The Warriors of Bhrea: The Lost King

Chapter 1

The voice of Lauren Strauss' mother called up from the floor below, loud and clear despite the numerous doors that closed her off from the rest of the house.

"I hear you up there, my beautiful child. Get down here!"

Lauren looked up into the mirror she had been hunched in front of for the past few minutes. Faint circles surrounded her eyes. Her chestnut brown hair was a tangled halo about her head. To top it off, every glance at a light source sent sharp pain piercing through her brain.

It was that damn dream again.

The same one, becoming ever-more frequent. A drifting tower, a spinning wheel, the din of a thousand voices, calling her name... It was the dream that had plagued her since childhood, though at least then it had been rare. Now, at age twenty-one, it was almost a nightly occurrence.

A bottle of extra-strength Excedrin sat to the side of her. After collecting her thoughts, she reached for it and deftly opened the lid. She poured two into her hand, looked at them for a moment, then poured one more. It was one of those mornings. Popping them into her mouth, she swallowed and prayed they would work quickly. Today was a day she wanted to at least partly enjoy.

After taming her hair and slipping into a festive summer dress, she descended the stairs to the aromas of butter and sizzling meat.

The kitchen was filled with the sounds of clinking dishes and food frying in a pan. Keren Strauss was bustling to and fro, removing pans from the stove and putting the food on plates. Her lithe form seemed almost unnatural in such a domestic place. To Lauren, her mother always belonged in an adventure movie—fighting off enemies with ease and grace. Even now, as Keren carried a large bowl of fruit to the table, her arm muscles threatened to stretch the seams of her blouse to the breaking point.

"You didn't have to do all this for me," Lauren said, staring at the feast that already lay on the table.

Keren turned. Her gray eyes were lined with small crinkles, but that was the only sign of her age. Otherwise, her hair had no sign of silver, nor had she lost any of her perfect posture. Lauren's eyes unconsciously flicked to the faded tattoo on her mother's left cheek—a remnant of her mother's youth, she was told.

She suddenly swept Lauren in for a hug before she could move further.

"I must do everything right for my daughter on this special day." She squeezed tighter, saying, "I am so proud of you." Releasing Lauren from the embrace, her hands rested on her daughter's shoulders. She bent slightly to meet Lauren's eyes.

"Your father would be proud of you too."

Lauren looked away. She hated to talk about her dad. She especially didn't want to discuss him when she was supposed to be happy all day.

Keren gently placed her hand on Lauren's face and turned it back toward her, looking intently at her with her gray eyes. They were eyes that Lauren inherited. That was where the similarities ended—Lauren much more resembled her father than her mother.

Lauren could sense the swell of emotions surging through her mother—sadness, hope, love. She relaxed and did her best to smile back.

Keren scrutinized her daughter further. She missed few things, even if Lauren used her most clever tactics to hide them.

"You have been having that dream again, haven't you?"

Lauren winced. Her mother could still tell it had been one of those nights.

"Do I really look that bad?" Lauren asked, not wanting to hear the answer.

Keren did not look back while she continued to get breakfast ready, now pouring tea for the both of them.