Throne of Glass; The Task from Nehemia

Marina Blue-Blood

The full moon illuminated the river water as Marina Blue-Blood from the Blood-Blooded Witch Clan soared through the nights sky. Tilting her broomstick she headed towards the sparkling water, picking up speed as she went, until her fingertips were nearly touching the small waves that was being emitted from the river. Small fish were swimming under the water, there scales shining from the light of the overhead moon. A small barge came into view, nearly all of its lights dosed. Maybe she could find a taste snack onboard. Her iron nails and teeth tingled at the thought of human blood.

Onboard the small barge, Chaol sat with his head in his hands. He had tried so hard to forget that the woman he loved was an assassin ever since she had brutally killed Archer. He had deserved it, however it was the look of enjoyment as Celaena had killed him that haunted Chaol's dreams. He ran his hands over the two thin scars on his cheek that Celaena had given him and winced, remembering her horrible words on that terrible night. Celaena was up on deck, the wind ripping through her hair. The bodies of the guards had been disposed of however the boat still smelt like blood. Celaena wrinkled her nose- blood smelt to familiar for her liking. The bargeman, whom Celaena had long forgotten his name, was whimpering at the helm of the boat. If Celaena went anywhere near him he would burst into tears.

Marina sniffed the air, it smelt like humans and so her stomach growled like a lion. She patted it: "Now, now, not much longer my sweet." She told it, grinning to herself. This was going to be fun. Her raven hair flowed out behind her as she dived towards the boat on her broom. 

As silently as a mouse, Marina landed on the far deck- away from the humans. She sniffed the air again. There were one, maybe two humans on board, much to her annoyance. However, Marina could smell something else, something she hadn't smelt since ancient times. Fae. 

She licked her blood red lips and grinned, how she loved the taste of Fae blood. She hadn't had the pleasure of tasting it for 500 years. The Fae was her's. It would not escape her.

~

Chaol knew something was wrong. Everything on the boat seemed far to quiet and still for his liking. Heaving himself up from the floor and grabbing his sword belt he went up deck to find Celanea. She was leaning over the railing of the barge- her blond hair being whipped about by the strong winds. 

"Celaena!" He called to her. She didn't move. "Celaena!" Chaol called again, walking towards her. Still she didn't look up. 

Suddenly she turned to face him, her eyes haggard. "That is not my name." She whispered, as if she was talking to herself. "

"What?" Asked Chaol, completely unprepared for this suddenly change in attitude.

"That is not my name." She repeated, her voice growing in strength. 

"Cealena..." Chaol began, but she cut him off with a terrible scream that made the hair on his arms and neck stand up from fright.