If we would only unite… but I suppose that wish is an impossible dream. Nelgatans wage war with everyone, including each other.
Still, it doesn’t matter who she killed or who I will kill or what we drew from that dragon’s lair: Tira and I are shield sisters. We are each warriors in our own rights with our own deadly skills to bring to the table. She with her power of persuasion and me with the strength of my dragons. Neither of us relying solely on the strength of our arm.
“Are you nervous?” she asks, trailing after me as I start down the frozen dirt path that leads through our village.
I slide her a quick glance. “Were you?”
“No,” she says, her hair clinking slightly as she shakes her head. “But then I’d thought I was ready. It wasn’t until I was looking down at the man whom I had kissed, realizing that I was about to end his life.”
“But you didn’t hesitate,” I say, turning to her. I’d watched her coming of age ritual, her face had been impassive as she swung her blade down on her former lover and sacrifice.
“I knew I couldn’t, not while my father was looking.” Tira’s dark eyes dart around, taking in the quiet rugged houses making certain that we are alone. “But after the fact… while everyone was drinking themselves into a stupor I slipped off and was sick all night. Then I hid the evidence and came back. I think a part of me died when I killed that man.”
I lick my chapped lips and glance over my shoulder to the men in our village as they are lifting the unconscious Imperial off the back of my dragon. “Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be? We are to shed our innocence and become warriors. If we learn to hesitate when we kill, then we will be killed.”
“I know that’s what we have been taught,” Tira replies, her voice the barest of whispers. “But I don’t know if that is the right way.”
“You can say that; you’re the chief’s daughter.” I shake my head. “You can be forgiven if you question things.”
Tira’s lip quirks as she glances at me. “Laduga, your heritage is far more valuable to this tribe than my own, you just choose not to accept it.”
I shake my head so hard that it causes my twined hair to whip into my frost nipped face. “You know that I do not accept my mother’s blood.”
“Accept it or not, it flows in your veins.” She casts me a side glance before moving closer, dropping her voice. “If the people of our village learned about your visions, they would not allow you to become a warrior.” She pulls her lip slowly between her teeth. “You would never have to kill anyone if you didn’t want to…”
“Why are you suddenly so against me becoming a warrior?” I demand, backing away. My heart is beating harder as hot panic flashes through me. Is Tira threatening me? But no, she wouldn’t actually betray my secret and give me any reason to regret telling her. I know that she will always have my back no matter our disagreements.
“Because I wish that someone had warned me…” she shakes her head. “There is something that changes in you when you first take a life and I’m not sure if the change is good.”
“What are you talking about?” I shake my head as I move past her, actually I don’t care to know. I need to prepare for the ceremony tonight.
“The nightmares.”
“I have waking nightmares,” I spit. “You need to do better than that to scare me off.”
“All I’m saying is that it isn’t too late to start that garden and accept the destiny that you have been fleeing from, but after tonight it will be.”
I pause, turning to stare her down. The wind picks up her skirts causing them to flap around her legs. “Good,” I state solemnly.
Chapter Three
The Blood Rite
Ointmentdribblesdownmybrows, the droplets tickling the delicate skin of my temple. I repress the urge to shudder as I allow Gerta, an older woman of the village, to settle my chain mail into place. The metal is freezing against the bare parts of my skin that it touches past the sleeve of my tunic. However, its weight at least is familiar.
The women are chanting, and I feel a little useless as I’m tossed from hand to hand as they each do something for my appearance. One smears paint across my eyes and over my lips, another binds my hair into tight braids that cause my scalp to prickle. And finally, Tira steps forward holding my ax.
I take it from her and slide it into the loop in my belt, giving her a grim smile. If we were alone, I would ask her how I looked, but with all these women here I shall just have to trust that I look the role I’m meant to play tonight.
That of a killer.
But as much as I’m dreading filling that role… it is at least preferred to becoming a seer. A lesser of two evils.
The women’s chanting is drowned out by a dull ring in my ears. I remember being a part of Tira’s ceremony, being the one chanting and polishing her weapon, after all we are shield sisters. It is my fate to tend to her weapon and her fate to tend mine. It symbolizes how we will always be able to have each other’s backs on the battlefield.
I had watched her blood rite without flinching as she took the head of her captive and was declared a proper warrior amongst our ranks, one that will now be permitted to go out on raids with the rest of our mighty men and women.
And yet, now that it is my time to take my first life, I feel uneasy. Can I do this without flinching?
