Chapter 4

The beauty of the castle lying before me was greater than anything I knew. The façade glowing white — how could it get so white? — and the towers climbing high in the sky. Our rich country overpowered by this green prosperity. Perfect lanes of trees, full of juicy fruits, gardens and fields colouring the landscape green, yellow and blue. This was the land of Veriton.

Alexander and I had run away. We had to see those creatures that children heard tales of, the beautiful Wilijies. Alexander stole two horses — well, he did not steal, they already belonged to him — and in the dead of the night we rode. (I remember now that the border-country between Veriton and Aarenion, our land, was then as green as ours and theirs. I wonder how it got to be so... dead.) We rode for three days, never stopping, just for an adventure Alexander had conjured for the sake of him soon to be a king.

The Wilijies are... beauty in itself. They look androgynous. Velvet black hair. Long graceful limbs. My mother used to say that they are the offspring of elves, the race that was endangered and exterminated by the so much more fertile humans. And the legend says that an elven man fell in love with the Wolfgoddess Fuor, the black wolf shapeshifter, whom treaded the earth when only a few elves still lived. The elf was named Wilij, the tale goes. Fuor rejuvenated the elven race with more fertility and an almost vicious look, like beasts of prey. Wilij's and Fuor's children were half immortals, not living as long as an elf, but neither as short as a common human.

Then, Veriton was peaceful. We were not harmed, even though we ended up in trouble — trouble that Lex caused. Soon the king came for us — for Alexander. I got a good beating when I finally came home, a week after my departure.

Huh, I could not sit for another week.

The beautiful man led me to the camp of the Moonsisters. I noticed many soldiers looking at me, almost staring. When I stumbled someone grinned, showing a lecherous smile.

"I told you that many will take joy in your mishaps."

I kept silent, afraid to stir anyone else to speak to me. I was afraid of their looks, not too few showed the same vision in their faces as the officer had had in his face when he first saw me — the officer I had killed last night. I walked with my head facing the ground, believing it would make me invisible.

"Here we are. Let me introduce you to the Wizers. This is Amram Lothansdaughtir, she ended up in some trouble and I think she will fare better here, than walking in the end of the army when we march. Amram, this is Joanja Greens, and here we have Goovar Berdesdaughtir. I trust they will see that you get a weapon and a shield, because there will be a... small skirmish today and you're expected to fight, just as everybody else. Now I bid you farewell."

He walked off, and I followed his back with my sight. I did not like how Joanja looked at me; I could see her in the corner of my eye, staring with a vision of hatred. When I turned to face the Wizers again I was toppled over by the weight of a sword and a large wooden shield.

"Prepare yourself for battle, Amram Lothansdaughtir..." Joanja almost spat out the last syllables of my name. "From now on you will not turn away from our gaze when we have your attention and you will every time refer to us as Wizer Joanja, or Wizer Goovar. Is that clear?!"

Goovar helped me up from the ground. "I understand... Wizer Joanja."

Joanja turned around, leaving Goovar and me alone. "Don't take her the wrong way, Amram, she seems not to care, but instead she does. Although there might be one objection from her side, she cannot speak of it, as it will judge her to be unjust."

"What injustice might that be?" I asked, trying to hold the heavy sword in my hand. I had grown weak in my hands, these last few days, away from home.

"You noticed that she spat out the 'daughtir'-part of your name, and she can never claim herself to be a 'daughtir' herself. That is the injustice."

"I am sure she holds greater power than me..."

Goovar gave me a hard look. "Most girls here — well, except me, but I am no girl any longer — they are... just like her. They will all envy you of your upbringing and your name."

"They would not like my father..."

"Yet you hold his name."

"Well, I did not ask for it."

"She will not live the day!"

"How can you say that? You do not know of her fighting ability", Goovar argued.

"I know this: She's a pain in the ass... She has been cuddled all of her life, she could have dealt with the man, lying on the ground, not making a noise. That would make her a nicer girl anyway... She knows nothing about pain, yet she killed a man just because he was kissing her..."

"Quiet now, Joanja. It is not wise to shout inside the thin walls of this tent."

I was standing outside the tent, hearing their argument. I started crying when I heard Joanja saying that I should have endured the officers 'caresses'.

"She will not live the day, she is not strong."

"Maybe you will be surprised..."

The rest of the girls in the camp glared at me. I supposed that they already knew of what had happened to me and what my family name was. I endured their looks; they were so much easier to handle than the men's. I did not bother to talk to anyone; I doubted that they would even answer me. Instead I took the time to try to prepare for the battle.

I figured that all the girls in this camp had magical powers, as the beautiful man claimed that I had as well. They would be able to fight with those powers, I presumed, but I had no idea what good my 'powers' would do in battle.

I did not understand what Goovar thought to be surprising of me. She wanted me to survive, that much was clear, but how to survive? I was good at fighting, but that was with a wooden sword — not with a real one in metal, so much heavier than a wooden one. I hoped that I would not stand in the first line, where the mortality rate was near to complete.