Chapter 3: Dreams and the Queen

 

The soldiers had quickly loaded the children into wagons after that. Leliana never returned to check if her orders had been followed, and neither did the men seek her out to tell her they hadn’t followed her direction. Willow had luckily been sat next to Lena, yet she thought maybe that had been by design. She seemed to be the only person who would go near the girl, and even the soldiers were reluctant to load her into the wagon. Lena fell unconscious almost as soon as the wagons had begun moving, her head falling limply on Willow’s shoulder. It would seem that she trusted her, at least enough that she could rest off the obvious exhaustion that likely plagued her.

 

They traveled like this for a length of time that Willow didn’t bother to keep track of. Her mind was focused elsewhere. With each step the horses took, she was further and further from home. Further from her life, her parents, and the future that had been robbed from her. She had expected to grow up in Karin. To maybe find love there, to maybe raise a family there. She closed her eyes and thought of this now impossible future. There she was walking down a simple aisle, covered in flowers. A faceless person waiting for her at its end. She couldn’t make out the details. Sometimes they were a man, sometimes a woman. What was important was the person to her left. Her father walked with her, still towering over her despite her age. His face held a radiant smile, and tears trailed down his face. Her mother sat in the front row, a look on her face that only she could make out, but that matched every emotion her father obviously showed. Slowly she let the thought slip away, and thought further forward.

 

She could see her child being carried and played with by her father. He would have made an excellent grandfather, she thought. He had always been so gentle despite his large stature. There she could see the toys he would have built for them non stop littering the ground of the vague home she held in her imagination. At a counter in the kitchen of this fictional house she could see her mother making a meal, gray noticeable in her raven locks. Next to her was a small child, probably the child her mind had dreamed up. They were similar to the spouse from the previous vision, bouncing between looks and genders with no rhyme or reason. Her mother looked down at the child with a big smile, her face wrinkling up as she gently touched the child’s nose with a flower covered finger. Then too did this fantastical moment fade slowly away.

 

She wished it hadn’t.

 

What she saw now was nothing like the wonderful sights that her mind had gifted her. Here she saw her mother and father, their older forms, both slain in the same way they had been. She looked upon their broken bodies in shock and horror, but they were not alone. With them lay the body of her imagined spouse and child, still flickering to every combination of person. So too did they change how they had died. Burning, dismemberment, disembowelment, beheading, broken, crushed.

 

Beaten.

 

Taken.

 

Murdered.

 

She began hyperventilating. She collapsed to her knees in the bloodstained muck, staining her dress with the blood of her family. Tears rolling down her cheeks, even in her own imagination they were taken from her. Even here she couldn’t be happy.

 

Even in her dreams she was tormented.

 

She brought her hands to her face and wept. They were tears of anguish, of loss, of fear. Her hands and arms became soaked as her tears began to trail their way towards the ground. Suddenly she heard a sound behind her. The sound of footsteps. 

 

Slowly she looked up and behind her for the source of the noise. Standing there was a man in a long black robe. His head was covered in a hood, and his face veiled in shadow. He took a single step forward and shivers ran their way across her entire body. A soft purple light filled the air around her, it originated somewhere above her. She gazed skyward, and her eyes grew wide in shock.

 

There above her, maybe a meter over her head, was a strange symbol. It was a simple set of geometric lines in the shape of a rhombus surrounded by a circle. It was strange, Willow could swear she had seen the symbol before, it was faintly familiar to her. It pulsated that soft purple. Soon the light began to coalesce into thin drifting forms, like petals of lilac falling upon her. She felt an urge to grab one, and so cupped her hands to catch one. As soon as it touched her hands, the light began to be corrupted by a deep red color. It slowly spread to every petal and every beam, until eventually even the symbol’s purple was a blood red.

 

“Found you.” She looked back at the cloaked man who had spoken in a clear deep voice. It spoke to her core, something within her resonating with his words. He said nothing more as the dream around her began to collapse. Soon all that was left was the dull red of the symbol, and that too eventually faded.

 

She blinked once, and suddenly she sat forward breathing heavily. She was back in the cart, and she could see the last glimmers of the sun on the horizon. She felt strange. It was as if those fading beams of gold were speaking to her, gently whispering comfort.

 

She felt a hand on her shoulder. Quickly she looked to her left, her ragged breath still not leaving her. Lena met her eyes, two pools of smoldering blood red staring into shattered green. Wait two? Willow looked the other girl over, but she had not been mistaken. The bruises that had once covered Lena’s face were almost gone, only small bits of yellow marked where she had been so brutally beaten. Her straight and long nose was still slightly crooked, but it too looked like it had begun to straighten and fix itself. Now that her face was nearly injury free, Willow could truly look at the noble girl.

 

Her face was angular, but well formed. She had high cheekbones, and slightly downturned eyes, the inner corners sat higher than the outer. They were large and rounded, giving off a slightly innocent appearance, but her inner fire betrayed their appearance. Lena’s eyes truly did smolder, Willow could see it now. It hadn’t been something she had imagined. The noble girl’s eyes glimmered with light, glowing ever so slightly like the embers of a fire. It was truly like an inner fire danced in her sockets. All together, she was an ethereal beauty, and Willow could tell that she would only grow more so with age.

 

“Willow? Are you ok? Your breathing is rather… strained.” Lena looked Willow up and down quickly with a worried expression.

 

Willow responded in a shaky voice in between her breaths. “I-I’m fine. It was just a nightmare. But what about you? How long have I been asleep for your wounds to have healed so completely?”

 

“You’ve only been asleep for about half a day. The sun is setting, see?” She lifted an arm to point at the sunset. It too was void of most of the large scratches and signs of fractures that had previously covered its surface. All that remained was the blood and its stains on her clothes.

 

“I-I can see that. But your wounds…” Willow gazed upon her in disbelief.

 

Lena shrugged her shoulders and scrunched up her face in confusion. “I’m an Ashe.”

 

“So? What does you being an imperial have to do with that? Could you explain?”

 

“You don’t know? I know where you’re from isn’t part of the empire technically, but you’re close enough that you should know the stories.”

 

Willow held up her hands in defeat. “Well I don’t ok? Can you explain please? Because I’m confused as to why you aren’t on the brink of death anymore.”

 

“I’m an Ashe. Millenia ago my family was blessed by a god, or blessed by a random stroke of magic, the stories are never consistent on the origin. But the rest is well documented. A select few of us, one or two a generation, are not fully human. We are something different, something more. We are stronger and faster, and our wounds close at an exceptional rate. I was beaten a few days ago, and now I am nearly fine as you can see.” She held a hand to her chin and looked like she was in deep thought. “Actually what you probably witnessed wasn’t the half of it. When they were through with me originally both of my arms and legs were broken, and I couldn't see out of either eye.”

 

Willow looked at her in horror. Lena spoke so nonchalantly about being brutally beaten, as if it had been a mere inconvenience. “So you’re one of the few of this generation?” she asked.

 

“Not one of, the one of this generation. I am the daughter of Duke Calin Ashe, brother to Emperor Lieran. My father and uncle were the last of the bloodline till I was born. My uncle has no heirs as of yet, so I remain the only other true Ashe in the world. Of course the signs of the bloodline are not particularly uncommon. A few nobles, and even some commoners, are born with the hair and eyes of my family. However, these people never share the one thing that all true born Ashe’s have. Our immunity to magic of all kinds.”

 

“Magic?” Willow had only heard tales of fantastical sorcerers and wizards wielding the elements and shaping reality. Is that what the cloaked man had used in her dream? “Is it real?”

 

Lena smooshed her lips to the side. “Yes and no. Magic is not like what you’ve heard in fairytales. The only beings that can use it are the elves and the dragons. The dragons were hunted to extinction by my family a thousand years ago, and the elves don’t wield it directly. They forge it into their weapons. The way we test the heirs of our family is by cutting the babes with an elven blade when they are born. If they are cut, the child is illegitimate. If they are not, then they are a true Ashe.” Lena pushed a fist against her face and cracked her neck. “Sorry for the long winded explanation, but there you have it. In a few days you won’t be able to tell I was even injured. The lashing wounds would have scarred however, pretty badly too. They were too deep and sudden.  But thanks to your quick work, they’ll probably only leave faint lines, if they scar at all!”

 

“You’re welcome then.”

 

“So what about you? What’s your story?” Willow froze up for a moment as she remembered her dream, then the events that inspired it. She took a deep breath and spoke, finally letting it all flow from her. She told Lena everything. How she had been making bread with her mother when the raid happened. How her father had hid them in the cellar while he grabbed an ax he used to split wood to fight them off and lead them away. How she and her mother had been drug from the cellar, only for her to see her father broken and pinned to the ground by the sword and bone spears. She wept as she told Lena about how the elf had brutalized her mother with clean efficiency. How finally she was grabbed by the elf and put on a horse and taken from her only home.

 

When she was done telling her story, Lena pulled her gently into a hug. “I’m so sorry. Your father fought bravely. He must have loved you and your mother terribly.” She paused. “These people killed my family too. My father and mother were brutally slaughtered by the soldiers. Though it took nearly forty to take my mother down for good, and sixty for my father.” She said this with pride, her voice welling with tears. “My family are warriors to our core. I’m happy they went down fighting.” Willow squeezed the other girl tightly, not wanting to let go of this new friend. “Ow. Can we stop hugging now? My back is still shredded.”

 

Willow backed off quickly, and looked down embarrassed. But she was glad for the first time since this morning. She had made a friend.

 

She was no longer alone.

 

Suddenly the cart came to a halt, pushing the two girls back together. Willow peaked over the edge to see that the entire caravan had stopped. Soldiers and common men alike moved in well rehearsed actions, setting up tents and starting fires. It would seem they would be resting for the night. 

 

A soldier appeared at the back of the cart and unfasted the door that kept the children inside from escaping. He was an older man, probably in his late sixties. A thick and wild gray mustache and beard filled his face, and his long hair was similarly untamed. His eyes were a cold ice blue. He spoke in a gruff voice. “Out.” The children in the cart, Lena and Willow included, hesitated. He spoke again, more forceful this time. “Out.”

 

Most of the children followed suit after the second order, Willow hopped out of the cart quickly and without fuss. Lena did not. She glared the soldier down, refusing to follow orders. He sighed and ran his hand down his face. “Listen girly, I don’t care if I have to drag you out. I will do so in an instant. Lelianna said she was too busy to deal with you herself, so she asked me. I was gracious enough to oblige. I left a bottle of the finest elven wine for this, don’t make it difficult.”

 

Lena snarled. “Choke on your own tongue and die kidnapper.”

He blinked a few times, then a low rumble echoed from his chest. He began to chuckle, then laugh out right. He reached a gloved hand up and wiped a single tear away. “It’s been a while since anyone dared to speak to me like that! You got fire kiddo, that’s for certain!” He stretched and cracked his knuckles. “Listen, my name is Noran. I’m one of the commanders, just like Lelianna. Unlike her however, I have held my position for almost three decades. I do not boast when I say I am one of the strongest people that walk the land.” He held a hand up to his chin and nodded a few times. “So we can do this one of two ways. One, I knock you out and carry you to the tent set up for you brats. Two, you get out and walk there willingly and I share some of that wine I mentioned earlier with you. Maybe I even take you under my wing, you become my squire? What say you child of Ashe?”

 

“Go fuck your throat with a dagger.” Lena said, her voice cool and dripping with venom.

 

Noran doubled over in laughter, grabbing onto the cart to keep his balance. “Do you mind if I steal that one? “Go fuck your throat with a dagger” she says! Well I respect the balls kid!” He stood up quickly…

 

…and Lena slumped over on his shoulder. He scooped her up in one smooth motion, and began to walk towards the quickly forming camp, urging the children to follow him. Willow hadn’t even seen him strike Lena. She hadn’t even seen him move.

 

She followed quickly, and stayed as close as she could to Noran. He gave her a side eye. “You’re the girl that helped her after the lashing aren’t you?” Willow opened her mouth to ask how he knew about that, but he interrupted her. “Don’t bother asking how I know. Just say you are.”

 

“I-I am.” She said quietly.

 

“What? I’m old, you need to speak with force girl.”

 

“I am.” She said shakily, but in a reasonable volume.

 

“What? By Kala’s bountiful tits girl, speak up!”

 

“I am!” She said loudly, almost shouting.

 

He smiled. “Good. Don’t be afraid to speak, otherwise how will you tell your enemies how you’ll kill them?” She again tried to respond, and again she was interrupted. “Brave what you did. Brave and stupid. Reminds me of an old friend!” They were approaching a large tent now, the same one they had been held in earlier that day Willow realized. They walked through the flaps, and Noran threw Lena to the ground like her father would stack sacks of charcoal for his forge. Willow dropped to her knees and immediately pulled Lena’s head into her lap to check on her new friend. Reflexively, she glared up at the old soldier, he only chuckled in response.

 

Once the last of the children were in the tent, he turned and made his way towards the exit, dusting his shoulder and hands off as he walked. However, he stopped suddenly and turned back to Willow. “If you survive the trials and the Rite, come find me in the Caer. I’ll make a fine warrior of you.”

 

“Wait what trials? What rite?” Willow called after him, but he was already gone. What had he been talking about? What must she survive? She was torn away from those thoughts when Lena began to stir in her lap however. 

 

“What happened?” She sat up groggily, holding her head.

 

“He knocked you out just like he said he would.”

 

She groaned. “Dammit!”

 

Willow grabbed her hand. “Are you alright?”

 

Lena stood abruptly, yanking her hand away and running it through her hair. She puffed out her cheeks and pouted. “No I’m not alright! I’m the daughter of a duke, and Ashe! I shouldn’t be treated this way!”

 

“Right? Pretty girls like you need to be treated right.”

 

Lena and Willow’s heads whipped around to look at the person who had spoken. Standing about two meters away were three large boys, all around sixteen years of age. They were in rough shape, wearing ragged clothes and no shoes. They were all around unremarkable, their brown hair and eyes giving off the appearance of a bull. The leader, the one who had spoken, was the largest of the three. His brown hair hung down in front of his dirty face, covering his eyes.  

 

A sly smile hung loosely on his lips. “Being taken by these soldier bastards was a blessing wasn’t it boys?” The other two nodded in agreement. “Free food, a warm place to sleep…” He took a step forward and motioned towards Lena and Willow. “Pretty girls. White haired noble, black haired commoner. Red eyes and green eyes. You two truly are a perfect pair. On the streets where I grew up, you’d be able to make quite a pretty penny if you know what I mean.” Willow did not know what he meant, what could he possibly be referring to. She looked over at Lena to try and read her expression, maybe she understood his meaning.

 

Lena’s face was twisted in disgust, she had clearly gleaned what the older boy intended, and she did not like it.

 

He took another step forward and spoke directly to her. “Oh don’t look so sickened love. You looked so pretty a minute ago, not at all like when I first saw you. Beaten and bloody, but there was something… beautiful about that look too. But I much prefer you at your best.” He took another step forward putting him within reach of Lena. He reached a hand out and grabbed a lock of her hair. “What do you say you become my girl? With my knowledge of the streets, my strength, and my fighting skill I’ll end up ruling the people here in no time. Be my queen huh? Like I said, I’ll treat you right.” He looked back and snickered at his companions, then turned back to Lena to wait for an answer. He was serious.

 

She spoke in a cool voice, her next statement a command not a threat. “I am going to break both of your arms and legs. Kneel and beg for forgiveness and I won’t kill you for implying that I am some lowly whore.”

 

He laughed. “Oh come on! I’ve seen plenty of girls with white hair and red eyes working the streets, get off your high horse.” He leaned in and whispered in her ear, loud enough that Willow could only barely make out the words. “You aren’t surrounded by stone and gold anymore princess. You should learn to use your body, that's all you have left.”

 

Lena responded in a matter of fact tone for the whole tent to hear. “Fine. If you have a death wish, I will be a gracious ruler and grant your request.” He laughed at that, only to be cut short as Lena punched him in the gut and sent him flying three meters in the air. His back touched the ceiling of the tent, and then he came crashing back down to the ground. There was a sickening crunch as he hit the floor, one of his arms had been broken. “That’s one.” Lena said in a calm, even regal tone.

 

She walked over to where he landed and kicked him hard in the gut. He went soaring through the air again, landing near the back. The group of children hurriedly ran away from the boy, speaking in hushed whispers. His other arm was now twisted and bent at multiple points. She stalked over to him slowly, swaying like this was just some common game. Or like she was a predator hunting its prey. Willow couldn’t tell which it was. “Two…”

 

The boy started crying, and begging for Lena to stop. He said he was sorry, that he didn’t mean it. She simply looked down at him with a small smile. “Oh it's much too late for that. Besides, I should thank you.” She stepped down so hard on one of his legs that Willow could almost see it shatter. Lena spoke to the entire tent. “Now they have the chance to meet their queen. And what happens when you mess with her.” She stepped down again, breaking his other leg. The boy cried out, screaming at the top of his lungs. “I don’t do lashings, or give second chances. You cross me…” She bent down, and with one fluid motion, snapped the boy's neck. “...You die.”

 

The dead boy’s two goons sprung into action, clearly not intelligent enough to see what awaited them if they attacked Lena. One swung wide for her head with a right hook, she neatly ducked under it. The second followed with a haymaker of his own, only for Lena to move just enough for it to completely miss her. The first tried to grab her, reaching his arms out to try and grapple the much smaller girl. Lena flipped over the top of him, and landed on his shoulders. She grabbed his head between her thighs, then twisted both of their weights. The cracking of his neck bones could probably be heard even outside of the tent.

 

She stood up, new blood coating her dress, and approached the final boy. He was on his knees begging for his life. Lena scoffed. “You should have done this earlier, then I wouldn’t have had to stain my gown even more than I already have.” Like a coiled snake, she struck quickly and lethally, twisting the boy’s neck and ending his life. “Honestly though, it wouldn't have mattered. I would have killed you bastards anyway.” She turned to the rest of the tent with her chin held up, and a sly grin on her face. “Now then…” She lazily stretched her arms upward.

 

“Who's next?”