Alianna blinked, trying to take in what Rionan was telling her. Storm magic – some sort of magical snare – a lightning bolt that whizzed past her, mere inches away, and would have likely killed her if it hit her. Right.
“Please let me introduce you when we arrive at the camp,” Rionan asked, his eyes soft. Despite the peril that had justpassed and the impending situation, she could hear warmth in his voice and feel a sense of pride in her chest. There was also another feeling that she struggled to place. “You have been so incredibly helpful to me, Ali, and aided in finding the artefact that could turn the tide of this war. I would like them to know who you are.”
She considered, noting that he had not mentioned their relationship. Despite his apparent warmth, there was a tension in his movements which she could not ignore.
“Alright,” she nodded, not questioning him as they strode forward together. As they rounded the corner of the pass, Alianna noted that about thirty feet ahead of them, the area seemed to open up and descend further downwards. She could see the faint glow of fires which had previously been hidden by the cliff faces and mountains which now surrounded them. Tents littered the area, some muchlarger than others. In the near distance, she thought she could hear the faint giggle of children, and a female voice ushering them to quieten down and go to sleep.
Rionan strode through the camp, looking ahead to the largest tent, which stood at its centre. Alianna looked straight at his back, following him like a puppy, avoiding turning her head to some of the faces that peered out of tents after hearing the commotion of the lightning snare.
“It’s Rionan,” she heard somebody whisper, “it’s Rionan, he’s come back!”
“Our Lord is here!” Another, older voice came. “Xanthia save us, he has returned!”
“He has somebody with him.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
Rionan did not look to the source of the voices. Alianna noticed that he balled one of his hands into a fist, releasing it and flexing his fingers. They arrived at the large tent, and Rionan ducked to step in, pulling the large canvas curtain aside for Alianna to enter behind him. In front of her stoodthree Xanthian males, gathered around a table. They all shared Rionan’s native features: a strange silver hue to their skin, pointed ears, and elongated canines. She noted that a map was splayed across it, with small annotations made over different areas. Dinner plates and wooden drinking cups rested atop the map, and she was reminded of her need for water, her dry throat beginning to itch.
One of the Xanthians turned his face to Rionan, rising slowly from his seat. His expression was one of shock and disbelief. The male was handsome – his short white hair was wild, like it had been whipped with stormy wind. It was not the white of an aged male, but a white of pure thunderous chaos, like he had been crafted by the god of storms and lightning himself. The same chaos was reflected in his eyes, which were a stark grey colour, and Alianna could have sworn she could see dark clouds swirling in his irises.
Alianna noted the jagged scars across the male’s nose and left cheek, shaped like a fork of lightning shooting down from the sky.
“Rionan,” the white-haired male whispered. “I knew it was you when I felt the snare go off.”
He stepped towards Rionan, eyes moving over him slowly, as if checking he was real. He offered a slow, courteous bow.
“Stand up, Ulreah,” Rionan answered. “You do not bow to me. I hear that it was because of you that as many of our people made it out of Savangrad. You have my endless thanks, my friend.”
Rionan did not move, but the storm god looked up, nodding his head curtly.
The second and third males now stood alongside Ulreah. The first had long dark hair, which was pulled into a bun on the top of his head, tied with a leather strap. His face was rugged, his shoulders muscled beneath his leather armour, and his observant eyes moved immediately over Rionan’s shoulder to Alianna. She saw a light gleam in his eyes, his nostrils flaring, and he tilted his chin in quiet acknowledgement. Astrange feeling of peace came over her, and Alianna knew without question that this must be Thallax.
The third male, who stood slightly shorter than Rionan, moved towards them. His eyes were on Alianna, not Rionan, and there was no light on his face. His expression was purely of interest, quiet curiosity. He had short, dark hair, speckled with grey. Fine lines framed his eyes, and his mouth was drawn. She could see from his demeanour, his frame, and the way he carried himself, that this man wielded intelligence and poise rather than weapons.
She saw Rionan go rigid and slide his eyes to the third male. The unnamed Xanthian flared his nostrils, inhaling deeply, his eyes roaming over Alianna before snapping to Rionan.
“You arebonded?” he questioned. “To a human?”
An animal’s roar ripped from Rionan’s throat as he rushed, teeth exposed, at the male. He grabbed him by his clothes, raising him from the ground with ease, and shoved him against the wooden pole which suspended the tent at its midpoint. The male blanched, colour leaving his face, as Rionan snarled, looking down on him with nothing but pure rage.
“He meant no ill will, Rionan,” Thallax interjected, although he made no move towards Rionan and the male. He was now cringing away from Rionan, feet dangling inches above the floor. “Korva has been studying for us, trying to determine where you may have been and the likelihood of your return. I am sure he will not mind me saying, hehad made little headway on his search for answers. Returning with human company is,” Thallax stopped, as if considering his words carefully. “An unexpected, but not unwelcome, surprise."
Rionan panted through gritted teeth, looking to Thallax out of the corner of his eye. Slowly, his face relaxed, and he let go of the male’s – Korva’s – clothes. Korva dropped to the ground with a thud. He coughed, straightening, and bowed to Rionan.
“I am sorry, My Lord. Truly. To see you return is a blessing indeed, but to see you return bonded to another was notsomething I had predicted.” He looked up to Rionan, eyes darting to Alianna in brief acknowledgement, although he did not break his bow. “My apologies.”
Rionan ran his hands over his shirt, considering Korva’s words.
“Your apology is accepted. Get up.”
Alianna noted the tension rippling off of Rionan, and she shifted uncomfortably. Rionan turned to her, reaching out a hand in her direction. Slowly, she stepped forward, bracing the stone under one arm as she interlocked her fingers with his.
“This is Ali. You are correct, Korva. We are bonded. Ali has been instrumental in helping me navigate the human realms, to find what we need, and requested that I bring her to Xanthia so she could help,” he scanned the group, eyes landing on Korva once more. “You will treat her with due reverence and respect.”
Korva nodded nervously, while Ulreah offered her a short bow, and Thallax simply studied her. The corner of his mouth turned up into a smile as he too scented the bond between Alianna and Rionan.
