Page 1 of Her Ivory Flame

Chapter 1

Death searched for her, Death found her, and yet Death himself was not strong enough to take her.

The world thought death succeeded in taking her over a century ago and she had lived that lie every day since.

To her, being dead was better than trying to navigate the world since The Dissension, after her people were annihilated from the world and her home destroyed. They picked a side in a foreign war, and in the end that side betrayed them.

From what she was told, she was the last female to carry the Valkyrie blood, the princess of her people that had been killed in battle. Her blood held the only union between Valkyrie and Fae to history’s recorded knowledge and that made her a very valuable asset to their enemy.

She supposed that would make her Queen of Mydalsa now, if she ever decided to return to society. But to return meant picking a side again, and the only one she would choose would be the same one that betrayed her.

The world seemed at peace for now just the way it was, the spring sun high in the sky as she walked through the crowded streets of the nearby town of Helen on market day. She had to walk three miles to get there from her private home deep in the forest down the dirt road path lined with trees, but it was worth it for the vendors that came this particular day.

Her shoulder brushed against other townsfolk trying to maneuver around to her favorite vendors along the dirt path. The kiosks along the walkway were still old worn wood stalls with tattered fabric hanging from half rotten poles to keep the sun off them. She thought they had some charm to them, the hardship of being one of the forgotten towns near the border of Ambros was very apparent.

The buildings behind the stalls were made of old wood and frayed ropes that had been through a few too many storms to be truly livable, but the people of this town worked with what they had. Some homes had fabric for roofs, just like the stalls, but most had old splintered wood with straw patching the holes that developedthroughout the years.

She had her long white hair braided and shoved in her favorite leather hooded cloak, her simple green dress hugging her slim body; flowing lightly around her legs with each step. She wore her knee-high leather boots, a knife shoved in the side of one just in case any trouble found her.

No one around her would know who she was, the only possible tell of any importance was her hair color and she tried to hide that when she could. The white hair was connected to a rare fae bloodline on her father’s side, however it seemed there were more and more bastard children appearing around the country mudding up that theory. This meant she could play it off that way if she needed to, but so far no one asked questions.

She tried not to make friends when she was in town, the less people knew about her the better chance she had to stay hidden from both kings.

One of them she fought with and was betrayed by them, the other one tortured her for months after the war and was still looking for her. Her escape from his stone slab was her way of escaping death, but she knew he would try again if she ever ended up in his line of sight once more.

Living day by day was her way of coping with her trauma, thankful to wake up every morning and not be chained to that slab, making her appreciate the little things in life.

Today, she was soaking up the sun and breathing in the aroma of her favorite spice stall as she made her way closer to it.

Her eyes sought out the dark-haired vendor and watched her bottling up a variety of ground minerals in small glass jars across the counter. As soon as she stopped against the worn wood booth, the female looked up at her with a smile.

“Hello darling,” the female greeted her. “How are you doing today?”

“Good morning, Elias. The sun is out so I can’t complain,” she replied back with a friendly grin.

Elias was one of the few people in the village she would interact with in a friendly manner. Like most of the villagers here, the Fae female in front of her had tan skin and darker features with no scaled wings in sight. Wings were another rare feature among the race, usually only adorned to royal blood.

Her people all had wings, beautiful multi-colored feather wings that carried them into battles for centuries. Pure white wings used to adorn her own back when she summoned them before she locked up her magic so tightly she could hardly access any of it now.

“What can I get you today?” Elias asked, her hands setting down the glass bottle she was currently filling.

“Just some red salts, and some mint leaves.” She smiled and watched Elias move to collect the items. “Oh, and some ground vanilla too please.”

“So your usual order then?” Elias chuckled.

She just smiled and set down her empty bottles from her last visit for the vendor to reuse later and waited until she was handed a bag with three new small jars in them.

“Thank you.” She nodded her head and gave the female the three silver coins owed before returning to the crowded walkway.

She had one more place to go before she could start her walk back home. Unfortunately for her, it was on the opposite side of the market and she would have to walk past the Commander's Quarters to get there.

With a heavy sigh, she made sure her hood was pulled down on her face and wound through the sea of people trying to get their weekly goods. She hadn’t needed to venture to town for a few weeks, her personal garden and her trapping ability were enough to keep her sustained. Today though was a special day, it came once a year and it was her favorite day to look forward to.

Silas was going to be visiting today, and that meant she was looking to buy the best meat in town. There was one particular vendor she trusted, and only because she had helped the male years ago when a storm came through. It had almost killed him but after that, she knew he wouldn’t sell her bad meat like the other vendors tried to do.

Her heart soared at the thought of seeing Silas, her one and only friend, and the only one that knew who she truly was. He had saved her almost a century ago and she would thank him every day until death finally won their battle.

“Allie!” she heard her fake name called from behind her and she groaned with annoyance in recognition of the voice. No one knew her true name except Silas, and she was grateful for it.