Thora shivers as the water runs down her back, freezing her to the core. She walks around the forest, trying to find her way back to her home, but with every step, she feels as if she is becoming more and more lost.
"I'm not scared," she murmurs to herself, "I'm not scared."
Thora finds an apple tree, it sits alone, the foliage thick and wide, stopping water from falling to the ground. Thora takes refuge under the tree and waits out the storm. Thunder rumbles loudly and lightning cracks across the sky.
"I'm not scared," Thora says as she opens her bag to find all her food ruined, she sighs and then carefully examines her quiver and bow. Her arrows are all alright, her bow is fine, thankfully not broken from her fall. She finds her dagger underneath her clothes, some still dry. Thora looks up to the shiny red apples hanging from the branches of the tree. She reaches up and grabs one down. When she bites into the red skin, the flavour explodes in her mouth. The apples are sweet and juicy, she picks more apples and places them in her now empty food bag.
As the wind blows all around her Thora catches a strange sound, it sounds like music. Thora stands as the notes sing towards her sadly.
"Is anyone out there?!" Thora calls, but her call is drowned out by the thunder.
Thora sits back down and listens to the rain and the wind and the music of the forest. By midday, the rain has stopped and the sky begins to lighten. Thora walks out of her shelter and looks around, but nothing seems familiar to her.
The wind gently breezes past her as music fills her ears, someone is playing the pan pipes. Thora follows the sound, her wet clothes stick to her and her legs chafe but she keeps walking, the music is intoxicating. Some small part of her fears that it is the Rotsep making the music.
She finds the source of the noise, it's not the Rotsep, it's a boy that she finds; he sits down at the base of the tree and blows music through his pipes.
Thora stays hidden behind a tree as she watches this boy, who seems to be around her age.
Thora is entranced by the music, she takes a step forward and sees that the boy's face is wet, not only from the rain but from tears. He leans his head back on the tree and sighs as more tears roll out of his eyes and down his cheeks. He is very well dressed, he wears deep brown pants, a black shirt; he also has a white cravat around his neck and tucked into a deep red vest.
"Why are you crying?" Thora asks stepping out of the shadows and towards the boy. The boy is startled by Thora's appearance.
"I'm not crying," He sniffs, wiping his tears with his sleeve, "What are you doing out here?"
"I'm lost," Thora says truthfully, "I got lost in the storm when I was thrown from my horse."
"I'm lost too," the boy admits after a moment of pause.
"Is that why you were crying?" Thora asks and the bow scowls.
"No," he says, "I'm not afraid of the woods."
"Are you not afraid of the Rotsep?" Thora asks, the name itself is enough to make her shiver in fear.
"The Rotsep is only a story," the boy scoffs, "he isn't real."
Thora looks to the toes of her boots.
"My father died," the boy says and Thora now stares at the boy sympathetically.
"I'm sorry for your loss," she says genuinely, she cannot imagine the pain she would feel if she were to lose her own father.
"People have been saying that to me for weeks," the boy says, "But they never seem as genuine about it as you just were. Who are you?"
YOU ARE READING
Daughter of War
FantasíaOne would think that Thora would be happy with her position; she is highborn with a powerful family name, and yet, Thora Illian's deepest wish is to be a warrior. Thora has a taste for adventure, for action, but her father would never let her wishes...
