Chapter 8 – Hahna
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(AN: This chapter was kinda edited???)

A golden haze covered the green fields of Cyrodiil.

The quiet rustling of leaves in the breeze gave off a calming atmosphere.

As the sun slowly set, the laughter of small children was heard.

Even without a single city in sight, a small clearing could be seen, nestled between a few trees.

A large figure walked toward the camp, carrying a goat on his shoulders.

Two young children stopped playing in the clearing, and ran over to the figure in delight.

“Pa, you’re back!” one of them said, with an excited look on his face.

The figure chuckled. 

“Yes, Frey, I’m back.”

A short, slim figure stepped into view.

She smiled at the father, and greeted him quietly.

The lively scene became darker and more foreboding as the sun set. 

“Father! Tell us a story!” the other child says, looking hopeful.

“Okay,” he chuckled, looking amused. “Come here.”

The twins both gathered around eagerly, with interested faces.

Their mother stood by, watching as she sharpened her katana.

“So what month is it,” he started off.

“First Seed, of course,” Frey said, with a confused look on his face.

“That’s right. Now look up at the sky.”

The children did, but their confusion only increased.

“Look over there, by where the sun set.”

“What’s over there Pa?” the little girl asked, her confusion growing rapidly.

“That’s where this month’s constellation is,” he replied.

“You see, every month there is a different constellation. People are given different signs depending on which constellation they were born under.”

“Wow,” Freyja said, completely immersed.

“Right now, we have the Lord constellation, which is one of the Warrior’s charges. It always comes in First Seed.”

“What’s a charge?” Frey asked.

“There are three guardian constellations. The Warrior, Mage, and Thief, and they each guard three charges. They each have their own month.”

“There are twelve total of the ones we see every night, but the Serpent stalks them all, trying to devour the charges. The guardians always stop them though, that’s their job.”

Both children nodded vigorously, looking very interested.

“What sign do I have?” Frey asked.

“You were born during Evening Star, which is when the Thief dwells the skies. It is said to give a person good luck.”

“Cool!”

“I myself was born as a Steed, that’s why I met your mother. She has the Apprentice.”

“What does that mean?” Freyja said.

“The Steed is restless and likes traveling, and the Apprentice has both an affinity and a weakness to magic,” the father said, looking amused.

“Is that why she likes magic?”

“Yes, It’s part of the reason why she’s a spellblade.”

The father sighed, and looked wistfully at the sky, as though wanting something else up there.

The mother walked over, and sat by him.

“Eirik, should we tell them what else comes with the Thief?”

They both looked worried, and deep in thought.

“Not yet. You know what happened to Ailidh.”

She nodded, with a sorrowful look on her face.

“She was only thirteen . . .”

“What are you talking about Ma?” Frey asked, with a mildly confused expression.

“Nothing you need to worry about, Frey,” she replied, plastering a smile over her grief-stricken face.

He shrugged, and went to go play with Freyja.

As the children eventually got tired out, their parents kept talking throughout the dark night, the stars moving slowly through the sky.

The blue sky compliments a peaceful environment, small cloud patches drifting lazily across it.

The green forest is still, with almost no wind.

Despite the calming atmosphere though, faint shouts can be heard, and the sound of carts rattling over stone paved roads disrupts the environment.

Several startled birds fly up through the trees, escaping what might be a dangerous threat.

As the carts continue steadily through a small town, a disturbing sound occasionally comes from the mountains beyond the trees.

A large array of soldiers guard the execution.

The distant sounds become louder, and a large black figure comes quickly from behind them. 

It’s thundering wings disrupt what was going to be a somewhat peaceful mass murder.

Large, red eyes give off satisfaction as the village crumbles beneath the sky.

I wake up yet again, and immediately start freaking out.

‘Why can’t I just enjoy a single full night of sleep!?’ I think to myself, trying not to scream

‘This is getting out of hand, especially since I keep having different variations of that one dream.’

‘And why did I have to remember that one time with the constellations? Why would I even imagine that? There aren’t any stars over here!’

After another few minutes of very loud and buzzing thoughts, I finally calm down.

That is, right before Frey lets out a huge snore, quickly startling me.

‘Ugh, life hates me.’

I roll over on the bed, and try to get comfortable to sleep again.

Unfortunately for me though, my thoughts like to keep me occupied.

I quietly grumble, and lose another few hours of sleep, before finally being able to rest.

You guys are starting to haunt me . . . I literally kept waking up every five minutes to the sound of typing and the weird sensation that my last chapter was awful last night. It's scary. (⚆_⚆)

But enough complaining, hope you enjoy the book! It's going to get a lot more bloody soon . . .

And please, PLEASE leave a comment! I want to know what you guys think, and how I can improve. Be the person that tells authors what they're doing wrong.

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