To the Stars | Throne of Glass

53

Celaena stayed in Oakwald. She didn't dare set up a fire, not when it could attract much unwanted attention - the moonlight was bright enough. Far away from the city lights, the stars were more visible. Like vibrant, pulsing orbs of brilliant white light. No flame, yet it was enough.

The sky bled from red to pink and purple hues, and finally sinking into a midnight blue. Celaena watched as the colours played across the sky until she finally reminded herself to get some sleep. But not in the Assassin's Guild. Not tonight.

Celaena unrolled her bedroll, and lay on her back. Her horse whinnied softly, and Celaena drew two apples from her satchel. Feeding one to the mare, who hadn't once complained, she stuck the other into her mouth.

A chill blew past, and goosebumps prickled along her bare arm. Celaena started to regret not bringing a cloak; it was getting colder. Shivering, she brought the blanket up higher to her chin, and spat out the apple core. The mare nuzzled the remains of the fruit, before bowing her head and nudging Celaena's shoulder. Celaena rolled, stroking her muzzle. She was glad for some company, just a solid comforting presence, at least.

Eventually, the mare stepped away, and the trees quietened their rustling. Celaena listened to the silence.

Despite Arobynn, despite Ben, she was alone. It was a horrible truth she often couldn't bear. This was all a mask. A mask which covered the endless pain she withheld. 

In another life, it was a mask to bear the burden she carried.

Either way, there was loss. There was death. There was suffering.

Celaena wanted to scream, to cry, to roar. But in the deafening silence, she did nothing.

The silence droned on.

~

It was dawn, perhaps, when Celaena was woken by a rustling. It wasn't the leaves, nor the trees. Horses didn't rustle, either. It was the sound of cloth.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she reached for the sword. The idea that she only had a sword still wasn't as daunting as it should've been. She slipped out of the bedroll, careful not to disturb the mare.

She sat on the mat cross-legged. A young man who looked barely in his twenties stumbled into the small area she'd claimed for the night.

'What's a young lad like you doing out here at this time?' he exclaimed. His accent was indefinable but slurred - he was possibly drunk - and he carried no weapons, as far as she could see. He wore black robes, and her heart began sinking rapidly as she realised he was wearing the same dress that killer (that had tried, and failed, to end her that night at the Guild) had worn.

But... Lad? Celaena decided to play along. Twisting her voice, she warped it into a low growl. 'Is it forbidden to sleep in a forest? What are you doing here?'

'Me? I'm heading for Eyllwe.' 'Celaena slowly relaxed her grip on the sword.

The man gave a cheery wave. He had to be drunk.

Celaena dipped her head in acknowledgment. 'I'm heading for Rifthold.'

'It was a pleasure meeting you.' He walked past, hands swinging by his side.

A whoosh, and a thud-

Celaena rolled as the arrow struck the bedroll where she'd been sat a few heartbeats ago. Blood sprayed from the lips of the strange man who had whirled round as she rose to her feet, ripping the sword from his navel to chin.

The hidden archer found himself with her blade at his throat.

'Who are you?' She didn't bother to stay in the shadows, or lower her voice.

'Dammit, release me! I'm on yer side!'

'How could I believe that if you just fired an arrow at me?'

'Honestly, 'swear! I weren't gonna a-kill ya! Just injure!' His hand twitched by his side, and Celaena had his own dagger pressed into his neck with a blink. 'Shit to that,' she said.

'I swear on my life I weren't gonna! Swear on my life she's alive! She- Ael-' Crimson flecked her arms as he slumped to the ground.

'You swore on your life,' Celaena snarled. 'And Aelin Galathynius is dead.'

She sheathed her sword and went to the mare who was gently whinnying. 'Come on, beauty,' she murmured softly. 'We're leaving this place.'

~

Celaena Sardothien looked towards the Glass City. Oakwald a wall of trees behind her, she soaked in the sunlight as it bled slowly into view. She didn't know how many times she would stand here, looking at the place she called home. Perhaps eternity. A life in Terrasen seemed too far away to imagine.

Sinking to the ground, she dug her nails into the dirt, littered with leaves and pine needles. They pricked into her hand, drawing blood. She let it trail down her finger and onto the frozen soil.

For remembrance, as a reminder.

With a resigned sigh, she stood, and coaxed the mare onward.

If Celaena Sardothien had stayed longer, though, she would've noticed that the winds from the North carried not only the scent of pine and snow, but one of metal and blood.

***

achhhhhhhhhh... guys... i messed up... i've been re-reading the series non-stop, and i've just spotted a part which said celaena loved (like, literally romantic-loved) ben when she was 'too young to understand the impossibility of such a thing.' and archer only trained at the guild for a few months when she was thirteen. 

here, celaena and ben do love each other in a family-vibe way, and archer's at the guild two years early...

oh well... XD 😂😂😂 (oh wow I even bolded the emoji lmao)

normal emoji: 😂

bold emoji: 😂

hope you enjoyed! (is there a good synonym for enjoyed, cuz i don't know if you're bored from me asking that. hehe.)

also, to emphasise stuff, do you guys prefer to make things bold, italic or underlined? i don't know why, i really don't like to underline stuff unless it's a title. yano, at school, if we make a mistake, we're supposed to use a ruler and pencil to cross it out. like, heck what??? nobody ever does that tho cuz most people have friction pens XD. 

anyways, on with the story!