“What have you got there, my Saber?” Her father asked in a kindly tone, his hair a dirty blonde and his eyes a shining blue, so different from her own dark hair and green eyes.

“A sword!” The 6 year old Säilä giggled, waving around the stick she had carved to a point with one of her father’s many knives.

“I’m going to fight the demons of the badlands with the Lü Sistre!” She swung a few strokes at the air.  “I’ll be their weapon smith too! I’ll be more famous than you, Father. One day, I’ll find Mother and bring her back to you.”

“Will you now?” Her father asked, wiping his hands off on his blacksmith’s apron and ruffling her hair. “You’ll have to practice more with the hammer to build up the strength. I’ll teach you how to smith when you turn 10, alright, my warrior? For now, practice with the sword you made.”

The delighted Säilä giggled and attacked the hay dummies her father had lovingly made for her, fighting away the demons of her imagination.

Those were the good days, before her Father disappeared and the house was destroyed.
 

Säilä awoke in a crater in the middle of a forest. This was not the same type of forest she had been in up above, but it was the type of forest you could only find in Välisaol, the human’s land. No birds sung as sweetly as they did in the Elven Realm, Éadra, or were the colors as bright. The shadows seemed stronger here, less light let in from the sky.

Säilä realized she was still pressed up against Queen Aluna, and pulled herself away, trying not to wake her.

Queen Aluna’s cloak had saved them. By some miracle, Säilä had managed to wrap it around them in the fall. The royal cloak was enchanted to save the wearer from any attempt on their life, be it a fall from great height, drowning, or even warning them of poison. The cloak’s powers were limited, however, as it could only save the wearer 12 times.

Säilä quickly pulled the arrow in her shoulder out, wincing slightly. She had trained herself to ignore most pain, but couldn’t block it out entirely. Säilä examined the wound, chuckling slightly when she realized it wasn’t poisoned. She wrapped it in some bandages she had stashed in her skirt.

The serving girls had been required to wear skirts back in Éadra, but that didn’t mean Säilä wouldn’t be prepared. On the inside of her skirt, she had sewn countless pockets, containing whatever she deemed necessary for when she ran away to join the Lü Sistre, the dream of every warrior women in the seven realms.

Säilä brushed Lady Aluna’s hair out of her face, rolling her gently onto her side, as not to wake her. The fabric around the arrow wound was eaten away. Säilä cursed. Why couldn’t the archer have hit the cloak instead of the mistress?

Acid was obviously on the arrow, but the shaft had broken off. Säilä would have to remove Lady Aluna’s dress the get to the skin and find the tip of the arrow. Finding what was left of the arrow was essential at this point. It was a war against time. Säilä fervently hoped the Queen would sleep through this.

Säilä expertly untied the back of the dress, stripping the Queen down to her undergarments. Säilä gripped a dagger in her teeth, ready to cut out the arrow head when she found it. If it was simply a normal arrow, the knife wouldn’t be needed, but she had a sinking feeling it wasn’t just an ordinary arrow.

Quickly, she found the wound. There wasn’t much blood, thankfully. Säilä cut away part of the undergarment to reveal the wound, wincing slightly. The skin around the wound was puckered, with green veins flowing outward like a ghastly flower. At the center was part of a broken shaft of an arrow.

Säilä grabbed a leaf and touched it to the shaft. The leaf immediately withered and died. “Damn them!” Säilä cursed. “It’s imbued with bloodstone.”

Säilä used the knife to carefully remove the arrowhead, careful not to touch the stone. Bloodstone was incredibly hard to craft, only possible using necromancy, and sapped the life force of whatever it touched. If it killed a host, the bloodstone would turn them into an undead servant of the maker.

Quickly, diligently, Säilä worked, aware that every moment she spent was another year of Lady Aluna’s life, praying to every god she could think of all the while. She worked to get every tiny sliver out, her whole being focused on this one task.

When she finally convinced herself that there was no more bloodstone from the arrow left, Säilä treated the wound with the last of her herbs and bandages, then rolled Queen Aluna back onto her back.

Lady Aluna still hadn’t awoken, and the color from her cheeks had vanished. She was much paler than her usual self, and her cheeks had sunken in slightly, making her look as if she had aged 10 years. She looked sick and sunken.

“Please, not her.” Säilä whispered. “Take me instead.” Her voice was getting louder now. “Not her. Take me instead, but just don’t take her!” She was shouting now, but she didn’t really care anymore. After years yearning to escape the realm she was trapped in, she had become attached to her royal mistress, though she had tried her best not to. It hurt to get attached. The world had taught her that. “Please…” Her boldness had left her at the thought of losing someone, her voice fading back to a whisper. Tear had started to roll down her cheeks, leaving lonely trails down her dusty face.

“…Not her.”

“I just don’t understand, Father. If the hard workers are rewarded so richly in the tales the bard tells, why hasn’t Mother come back, or we have had any good fortune?” 12 year old Säilä asked as she watched her Father work.

“Our hard work will pay off someday. Do not tempt fate by asking for the reward before it comes, or bad fortune will fall upon us,” he said. He was often talking about fate and the gods. Sometimes, if she was lucky, he’d tell her stories of her ancestors.

“But Father-” Säilä protested, dropping the stone she was using to sharpen the hoe her father had made that morning for a nearby farmer.

“No, Säilä. We shall have no more discussion on this topic.” Her Father said sternly. “Pass me that hammer, will you?”

“DRAGON!” Voices came shouting from outside. “DRAGON!!! SAVE YOURSELVES!”

Säilä jumped up. A dragon? A real life dragon!! She had heard stories about them.

“Did you hear that, Father? A dragon! We can use that spear you made the other day, and I’ll find my bow and my quiver!”

“No, my warrior. Now is not for fighting. We must find somewhere safe.”

“We are Välironds! We do not flee from battle!” Säilä said, enraged that her Father would suggest something as cowardly as running from a fight. He was the one who had told her the grand tales of the warriors before her!

“We shall today.” Her Father said, steel in his voice. “I am not doing this to save myself, my warrior. I am doing this to save you. Now grab any essentials and run for the forest. Don’t even think of disobeying me.”

Though she wanted to fight, Säilä did as she was told. She grabbed the essentials- a water skin, a loaf of bread, several knives, her bow and quiver, and her sword- and ran for the forest. She could hear screams behind her, but she didn’t look back. She never looked back.

The roars of the dragon, the crackling of fires, the screams of the men, the women, and the children all came from behind her. Säilä couldn’t look back, not now. Her legs kept moving forward, towards the forest, but her spirit wanted to tear itself away and fight, side by side with her Father, just like the old tales. She didn’t care if she died in battle! If she died fighting a dragon, all the better!

But here she was, running from possibly the fight of her life.

Säilä decided to wait until morning to move Lady Aluna. Now, she just had to prepare for the dangers of the night.

The shadow wolves lived in this forest, and the smell of blood would bring them. Legend had it, shadow wolves came from a different world altogether. Säilä had never seen one, but she had heard the tales from those foolish enough to stay in the forest after dark and lucky enough to stay alive.

All too soon, the heavy blanket of dusk fell, revealing the shimmering stars. Säilä finished up her defenses. A line of sharpened sticks encased the small camp, with a fire at the middle. She had not had any time to find any food or go hunting, but she had grabbed some dried meat that would last her until they got out of the forest. She had been in this forest once before, but those wolves hadn’t bothered her. Säilä didn’t know why they hadn’t eaten her last time, but now she wouldn’t give them a chance.

An eerie howl cut through Säilä‘s thoughts.

She looked around, only to see the shadows at the edge of the camp had grown thicker… stronger… and much more intelligent.

From the shadows of the forest rose the long, sleek wolves, their forms blurring as the moved,leaving streaks of their dark-light forms behind them. They did not touch the ground, instead walking on an invisible surface above it, and they could have blended in with the rest of the night’s forest, had it not been for their teeth the color of sun-bleached bone, and their eyes, all a glowing a deep red.

The shadow wolves prowled at the edge of the camp, not yet braving the sharp fence, but eyeing it warily. Säilä started to question the wisdom of sharpened sticks, as they were, after all, only sticks.

“Stay away.” Growled Säilä at the wolves. “Lady Aluna is under MY protection, and you won’t get her!”

That’s when the first wolf leapt over the barrier.

Säilä stepped in front of Lady Aluna. “Not on my watch, you don’t.”

The wolf growled at her, not ready to back down.

“Look at you. You think you're fierce, but that’s nothing compared to me. I’ve seen a lot worse than you. If you think you can take me, then give it a try.” Säilä growled back.

The wolf growled again, this time mustering its courage. Säilä knew if the shadow wolf attacked and she showed weakness, all of the others in the pack would attack her too. She had to prove she could not be defeated by just some wolves, even if they were larger than your average mountain goat and made to kill.

Säilä held up her log. “Last chance to walk away from this.” She warned the wolf.

The wolf bared his teeth and jumped, claws sharp and teeth ready to tear.

With one sweep, Säilä hit the wolf with a hard thunk, knocking it over the fire, away from Lady Aluna. This wolf wanted food, so it was only instinct pushing him to eat, and she had just proven she was not prey. If he attacked again, only then would she be forced to kill him.

The wolf attempted to get up, but collapsed down again. If Säilä had to guess, she would say a broken rib or two was the injury. It whimpered, looking at its pack-mates. They turned and left, bounding away, tails low. Säilä had just proven she was not to be messed with.

The wolf whimpered again, and Säilä approached warily. The wolves eyes were a muted blue now, unlike the glowing red they had been earlier, and it lay on the ground. The wolf was different now, actually touching the ground, and the wispy shadow tendrils had calmed.

Säilä’s heart twinged a bit. Should she just leave him, or should she help him?

He whimpered again. He reminded Säilä of herself those years ago. Young, orphaned, and all alone. She could hear the emotions in his voice.

Säilä made up her mind. The world had not been kind to her, but she was not about to leave a creature in need to the hands of fate.

Säilä knelt next to the wolf and reached out a tentative hand to touch his fur. It was soft and warm, almost comforting. From her hand, a ripple effect went over the wolf’s fur, outward from underneath her hand. He became more real looking, less like the shadow wolf pack-mates and less translucent. He looked at her, his eyes now a calm dark blue.

“I shall call you Varjo. It means shade, or ghostly one in the ancient tongue of the Välisaol.”

The wolf panted slightly, his mouth opening to almost a grin.

“How may I help you, Varjo? This is only for tonight, afterwards, go back to your pack. I won’t separate you from your rightful kind, but I want to repay you for any damage done tonight.”

Under her hand, another ripple went through, and he became more golden looking. If Säilä looked hard enough, she might have sworn he was glowing faintly.

“What was that?” She asked him. He cocked his head in response, his eyes asking what was wrong. She knew that he was a wolf, and she shouldn’t trust him, but he was comforting, and his eyes spoke of an old soul who had seen much.

“Can I trust you, Varjo?” Säilä asked. The wolf looked at her with his deep blue eyes and slowly moved his head in what seemed like a nod. With a brief struggle to get up, he moved shakily toward Queen Aluna. A doubt passed through Säilä’s mind, but quickly passed.

Varjo curled up next to Queen Aluna, licking the hair from her face.

“Are you saying you’ll guard her for the night?”

Varjo looked at Säilä with a reassuring gaze.

“Thank you.” She said, then walked over and lay her head on Varjo’s flank, pulling her knees up to her chest and falling into a deep sleep.

Säilä ran from the screams of the townspeople, the roars of the dragon, the crackling of fires. She didn’t look back. If she looked back, she would be honor-bound to engage in battle, but she would not break her promise to her Father. She promised not to fight, to save herself, and if she ever found her mother, to tell her how her Father died.

There was a new sound now. A battle cry carried over the noise of the crashing. “FOR SÄILÄ!” Her father’s voice. That was her father’s voice!

Säilä had to hold back a sob. This was a battle that couldn’t be won with one warrior, and her Father knew that.

Other new sounds followed. Säilä could hear her Father yelling, the clashing of his signature great sword on the scales, the cries of pain and anger from the dragon. Säilä was at the edge of the forest now, and she halted. It would be so easy to just turn around, look at the battle.

A sound that would haunt Säilä’s nightmares for years reached the edge of the forest. Her Father cried out in pain.

All indecision left Säilä’s mind. No one could hurt those she loved. She dropped the provisions, grabbed her quiver, bow, and sword, and ran into battle, ready to kill this dragon, no matter what it took.

Säilä woke to the singing of birds and the panting breath of Varjo on her face.

“Get off, you!” laughed Säilä.

She sobered as she remembered where she was. She had fallen from the upper world, the land of the elves, with their Queen, who was currently in a sleep from which she wouldn’t wake. Säilä was without hope and needed a cleric or a healer the help with Queen Aluna, who wasn’t even Säilä’s Queen! Säilä answered to no ruler, but to the laws of her land, Välisaol, not Èadrea’s.

Säilä ate a morsel of the little she had left, and made a sled to pull Queen Aluna from sticks and what remained of Säilä’s cloak. She used the ashes from the fire to filthy Lady Aluna’s face and hair, as well as making sure that Lady Aluna’s hood covered her pointed ears. Hopefully she couldn’t be recognizable as an elf, but it wouldn’t stand a close look, especially with her royal white hair. No elf family had the same hair as the Castellar’s, whose white hair glowed in moonlight.

“Go on. Get.” She said to Varjo. “I said one night. That night’s up. Go back to your pack.”

Varjo’s ears flicked back and forth, as if deciding.

“GO!” She yelled. Säilä knew she shouldn’t take it out on Varjo, but where she was headed, the less attention, the better.

She turned and started west, toward the edge of the forest, not waiting to watch Varjo. Varjo would be best with his pack. She didn’t know what the change was between the fierce shade to Varjo, but surely it was temporary. If he stayed, who knew when he would snap back into a shade and attack her?

Still… those eyes. He understood her, she was convinced of it!

It could be a trick to get her to trust her, her warrior side argued. Don’t take chances don’t get attached.

Säilä shook her head as if she could dislodge the argument from her head. Just keep moving, and don’t be as weak as you were last night. She was lucky the wolf hadn’t attacked Lady Aluna. Just keep moving.

By noon she had reached the edge of the forest, and could see the ruins of her old town. They had decayed over the years, between rain and wind. The land had reclaimed part of the town over the years, but a few houses were vaguely recognizable, though most of what was left were the foundations and a few charred beams.

Säilä walked through the houses in almost a daze, remembering everything that had happened here. In her mind, she could see it all.

She saw the children running between the houses, laughing. She saw the girls shunning her because she would not play with their dolls, because she said she didn’t want a husband when she grew up. The boys thought she was weird because she was a girl, and to their knowledge, all girls did was served food and do chores. She had proved them wrong when she had beaten the strongest of them in a fight. She was too boyish to be a girl, and simply being in a girl’s body made her shunned by the boys. She was a shade, in between worlds.

Säilä saw the houses age, and the memories with them. She remembered sparring with her father, and the careful hours she had spent practicing every maneuver. She remembered trying to unravel the mysteries of the scroll she had found in the woods one day, hours of candlelight nights attempting to coax the letters into revealing their secrets.

The memories were more painful now.

She remembered the new caravan that arrived in their village and decided to stay for a few weeks. There was a girl who had caught her attention. The girl, Tana, was Säilä’s age, unlike the others in the village, and she had a certain quality around her that fascinated Säilä. Säilä had spent weeks getting to know Tana, who was kind, but had seen much with the caravan. She remembered the kiss, and she remembered what had happened when Tana’s older brother found out. The caravan had left the next day.

Säilä saw the girls throwing rocks at her, calling her a demon, and she saw the boys chasing her away. They didn’t want to play with her anymore. She saw the younger Säilä, sitting in the dusty corner of her tiny room, trying to convince herself that she didn't need them. After that, she barely left the house.

Finally, she saw the dragon swooping down on the town, and the bloody battle that followed.

Säilä jerked herself out of the memories. She didn’t want to see that again, one time was more than enough.

Säilä came upon her old house. The roof had fallen in over the years, yet, it was clearly still her house. The stone walls had helped preserve it. She pushed open the door, and it fell off its hinges. Säilä stepped over the door, into her father’s “metal room”, as he called it. The forge was cold and empty, the sword her father had never finished still lying on the anvil. It had been protected by the oiled leather her father had thrown over it. Aluna would be safer here, so she put the makeshift sled in the corner, out of view of anyone who might come poking around.

Säilä scouted for a weapon that had not been ravaged by the weather, but with no avail. The dragon had torn apart the weapons room a long time ago, and the instruments of battle her father had spent so long making had been reduced into so much as scrap metal. There was not a single weapon left.

She needed a weapon, and she supposed there was enough material here to do it herself. Säilä had never made a sword without her father’s help before, but she had to try.

Säilä grabbed some iron ore her father had in a back room and searched for dry wood in the various houses that hadn’t been too damaged. Eventually she found enough, and returned to the house. In the road, she found something particular. It looked like a scale, and Säilä soon realized that was exactly what it was. She hunted around for more, and found seven scales in total. In the road, she also found the fragments of a sword, shattered into four pieces.

Back in what remained of the house, started the fire with flint, and worked the bellows until the fire was hot enough. Sparks flew into the sky with every pump, and the fire grew. Sweat beaded on her brow. She first smelted the iron ore, extracting the iron and working it until it was acceptable, then hammered the iron into a sword like shape, putting in the fragments of sword she had found in the road as a reminder of her past.

Säilä then held the scales in the fire with a set of tongs. The emerald scales turned a bright red in the heat, and Säilä worked even harder to increase the heat of the flames. Through much hard work, the fire caused the scale to become malleable. Säilä hammered it into the sword her father had started. Säilä wiped her arms across her brow, which was slick with sweat.

After several hours of work, night had fallen and the sword was almost complete. She hammered all seven scales into the iron, and the mixed to make something new. Säilä cooled the hot metal in the trough filled with rainwater. The metal glowed in the moonlight and the light of the stars.

Säilä sat down for the first time in hours. As she sat, her fatigue overwhelmed her. Her arms ached from exhaustion, and she suddenly realized that she had not eaten all day.

Slowly she got up and retrieved her last bits of food. Säilä knew she either had to get food at the next town or go hunting. She had not intended to spend so long here, it was only half a day's walk to the nearest town. Säilä knew sleeping here would bring nightmares.

To settle in for the night, Säilä jammed the door back in place, using several of the planks that were in a better state to hold it in place. She then reinforced the walls and hid Queen Aluna under her father’s old bed, as hers had fallen apart.

Hands clasped on her chest as she lay on the cold stone, Säilä gazed at the stars, watching the sparks from the dying fire spiral into the night.

“Father!” Säilä screamed, pulling back her bow and shooting several poison dipped arrows, one after another, hitting the dragon’s wings.

“SÄILÄ, NO!” Her father cried on the ground, a gaping wound on his chest, the armor he had hurriedly put on strewn across the sunbaked earth.

The sight of her father lying on the beaten road, his blood staining the earth, enraged Säilä further than she had ever been.

She screamed at the dragon, not words but a funnel for her fury at the beast. She was no longer a 12 year old girl, but a beast herself.

Säilä threw herself at the dragon, dodging powerful blows from its spiked tail that shook the earth, biting from its gnashing teeth, each razor sharp tooth able to impale her and drain her lifeblood, blasts of fire that scorched the earth so that it may never crack again. She was no child, but a hand of the gods to strike down this mighty beast.

As the dragon’s head snaked out to bite at her, she launched herself onto its head, screaming with as much wrath as the dragon. She landed on his head and slashed furiously with her sword, but every blow glanced off the shiny scales.

The dragon whipped his head back, throwing Säilä off, but she was ready. She landed expertly, digging furrows into the ground as she skidded. It snapped at her as she flew, a single tooth tearing through the flesh on her side.

The dragon glared at her, the orange eyes speaking of unmistakable power and the will to watch civilizations burn and eons die. Those eyes burned her home, and those eyes would watch her family burn too. The gods knew she was not about to let that happen.

“Not today, Dragon.” She growled. “And NEVER AGAIN!”

Säilä threw herself at the dragon a final time.

She roared and struck at the dragon’s face with all her might, shattering her sword and impaling the dragon, forever sealing its eye to the world.