Loyal

Chapter One

General key-
Italic- Trig
Normal- English
I also only use italic for typing trig in English. If I actually know the word, it'll be normal font.

Something was about to change.

It was like lightning in her bones, a tingling in her stomach. She knew something was about to happen.

Snow was snapped out of her thoughts by a sharp pain in her side, then in her head. Her feet were swept from under her.

"Focus," Anya snapped in Trigedasleng, hitting her once again in the head.

The pain ignited an instinct.

In a blur of movement, she had Anya pinned to the ground.

She then helped the woman up.

Anya's pointed face narrowed as her eyes turned to slits and her eyebrows creased into a frown, "What is wrong with you?"

That statement didn't refer to winning, and Snow knew it.

"Azgeda sent you here to train in our fighting style," Anya continued, "So pay attention."

To emphasize the last word, she slapped her staff into the ground. Snow knew better than to flinch, knowing it was just a distraction.

Even knowing it was coming, she let Anya's fist strike her lower jaw.

"Go hunt," Anya ordered, "Be back at dusk tomorrow, if you must come back at all."

That was Anya's typical reaction to Snow in training.

Snow had been studying the way Anya fought, and she had mastered it, but as long as she seemed incompetent, she wouldn't be sent back to Azgeda.

Which was her main goal.

Her father was banished, and as he was her father, she wasn't 'banished', she was just sent to other clans for her training.

It was essentially the same thing, but Snow didn't particularly care.

She pulled her white hair out of her face, revealing black eyes.

Most people called her strange. Many warriors in the ice nation had blonde hair, but never white, and with the Azgeda hair gene came the eye gene.

Yet hers were black.

Once her hair was tied back into a ponytail, little braids running through it, she grabbed her bow and twin swords, strapping daggers into their sheaths at each thigh and inside her boots at her ankles.

To conceal her white hair, which made her very recognizable, she pulled up her hood and slipped through the dark into the woods.

Snow lifted her bow as she dropped into a crouch, knocking an arrow into place.

Moving across much of the forest in this low stance, she released the arrow.

The boar didn't have time to squeal in alarm before the arrow pierced its heart, killing it instantly.

Snow doubted it even felt the pain before dying.

It was better that way.

But as she reached to retrieve her arrow, a loud boom sounded. Fire raced across the sky.

She looked up, the slightest bit of fear flickering into her eyes.

Then, the ground shook as something hit the forest a deal miles away.

Carefully stashing the boar in a tree and marking it in her mind, she raced over to see what the commotion was about.

She arrived in time to hear a muffled shout, then children screaming with joy.

It was mid morning. She had until tomorrow night to get back to Anya. She had time to watch them.

But she wouldn't. This would be a reason to send her back to Azgeda 'for her own safety'. So that her grandmother could shout at her about how everything in the world was her fault.

And if her 'loving' grandmother found out about this, she'd be concerned.

Not for her granddaughter, but for what might happen if her heir died, leaving her beloved kingdom to her banished son.

Yes, her grandmother was Queen Nia of Azgeda, her father Prince Roan.

Essentially, she was a princess. Lucky her.

"Snowflake!" Someone shouted in trig.

Idiots. If any of the new arrivals from the stars, the Skaikru, heard that, they would know there were others here.

Their biggest advantage was surprise.

Before they could shout again, Snow lunges down on them, covering their mouth.

The Trikru soldier punched her in the face, reigniting the pain on her jaw where Anya had hit her previously.

She fell backwards a few steps.

Snow had trained with eleven clans, as well as in Polis under the commander's leadership. Trikru was the last before she returned to Azgeda, to her grandmother's criticism.

So if she pretended to be weak enough, maybe she could stay.

The man had her pinned down in a few seconds.

In those few seconds, she'd studied his face, and matched it with his style of fighting. Trikru warrior, left side exposed.

"Who-" he quickly stopped as he saw her white hair and black eyes, "Princess Snowflake, forgive me-"

"In the future, I'd suggest you remember not to attack who you're searching for," Snow snapped, "and be quiet unless you want them to hear you."

The man nodded and began walking back, expecting her to follow.

Instead, she walked to the tree where she'd left the boar, following a few minutes later.

"You brought food," Anya observed.

Snow dumped the dead boar on the meat skinning table. A woman grabbed a knife, walking over and thanking her, "Mochof."

Anya dragged her back into the tent, "You were supposed to come back in two days."

"Well some idiot started shouting my name looking for me," Snow snapped back, "They said you wanted me back at camp."

"I sent no one after you," Anya hissed, "Don't accuse me of that which you have no proof."

Well yeah, sure, why don't you blame the the one who went looking against your orders? No, you blame the girl who thought she was following your orders.

"Idiot," Snow mumbled. She didn't know if she was talking to the man who looked for her, Anya, or herself.

"What?" Anya snapped. Apparently she heard that. Great, "You're spending the next week in conditioning."

Snow could fight back against the guards that marched in to drag her away and torture her to make her stronger, but she had to keep up the guise of being a weak idiot.

So as they dropped her into the dark cell, she smiled and closed her eyes.