Dragonbound: Birthrights (Book 2)

Stella was sitting under the trees, smiling at Torin’s description of his time in Avestitia. Torin wrote in his book, still recounting most of his events over the past couple years. As he spoke with Stella, it helped him to remember things he might like to write down.

“It sounds fantastic,” she said. “Last I was there, it was beautiful, even during their war.”

“It was nice,” he agreed. “I’ve enjoyed seeing Kiaran and Brick again.”

“It is a shame I missed her crowning. I’ll bet the food was plentiful,” she mused.

“Miss Stella,” a boy panted as he raced up. He was still a child, just turning about thirteen. He bowed his head to them and said, “Jenin is arguing over the technique you just taught us. She says that you stand with your feet shoulder-width apart.”

“Oh,” she chuckled. “You only do that if your opponent—yes, exactly—otherwise, take the full, yes like that,” she nodded as he took the stance. “That is right, go on. We will have your lesson this afternoon.”

“Thank you,” he nodded and darted off.

“You have been busy,” Torin grinned.

“Well, yes. Of course,” she replied. “But not as busy as you.” She grinned slyly and asked, “How is Lianna? Pregnant, I’ve noticed.”

“And will be for another several months,” he mumbled. “She is sick rather often, but other than that, she is fine.”

The birds sang as they fluttered above. Stella looked up to them and said, “Your brother did not go, I take it?”

“No,” he shrugged. “Busy, I suppose.”

“As a king should be,” she replied sadly. She leapt to her feet and stretched her arms above her head. “I am becoming restless, Torin. Find us an adventure.”

“Well,” he groaned as he stood with her, closing his book, “I would, but I am afraid we’ll have enough adventures soon enough.”

She tilted her head slightly, her short ponytail falling to the side. “What do you mean?” she asked cautiously. “Well...I don’t really know,” he grunted. “But as far as I can tell, peace doesn’t ever last very long. And where there is war, I am sure we will be there.”

“Sounds likely,” she agreed. “But do not be so pessimistic. Sometimes, things end happily.”

“Do you believe that?” he asked skeptically.

She tightened her jaws and thought for a short moment. “No,” she said lowly. “Not fully.”

They walked back to their village, not having much else to say. Or perhaps they didn’t want to say it. The thought of a pending war was realistic and unnerving.

Raven and Kane spoke lowly to each other nearby. Kane stood away from her, looking irritated. Things in the tribe were stressful over the past year. Not many people had survived the attack from Murdock, and they had just relocated.

The relocation was stressful in itself, which had put a few elderly to death. But they had finally made it someplace safe, someplace the new king couldn’t find them. Not that they feared Davin, but a rebel group would prove pointless if the King knew where they were.

“Da!” Tallin squealed as he neared his home. Lianna stood outside the house, the red-haired baby bouncing on her hip.

Anytime Torin was near, the child would go mad until he gave her attention. He chuckled as he took the baby from his wife. Lianna rubbed her still rather small belly and took the book from him.

“She has been restless all day,” Lianna said.

“She will be a great huntress one day,” he smiled at her as she grabbed at his shirt collars. “Take after your old man, huh?”

“Yes, she will,” Lianna smiled, kissing the baby’s head.

When Lianna went inside, he faced Stella who smiled warmly at the baby. “She’s getting big,” she commented.

“That’s her job,” he replied. She laughed a little, but reflected a bit of nervousness. “...Are you alright?” he asked slowly, leaning in a bit.

She nodded, her eyes shifting to him. Her smile was forced at this point, making his heart ache a little. “I think I just need some rest,” she said, walking away.

That evening, Torin sat near a dying fire. Everyone had retired to their homes, most of them already asleep, even. Lianna was at home with Tallin, both lost in deep sleep.

But he couldn’t sleep. He sat with a heavy mind and a heavy heart. It was at times like these that he worried about being a father. He worried that Tallin might one day turn against him because he wasn’t her real father. He feared that she might grudge against his own children.

His ears perked to a pair of feet approaching. Quietly, Raven sat beside him, pulling a blanket tightly around her shoulders. Her hair was long and loose, fanned out across her back.

Neither of them spoke for what seemed like forever.

“What aren’t you telling me?” he finally questioned.

“...Just be prepared,” she said. He eyed her cautiously. “I can say little more. Just...be ready for it.”

“I could be better prepared if you told me what it is,” he pressed.

“I will when it’s time,” she said.

He looked back to the fire, both of them still and quiet once more. They remained as such for most of the night before turning in for bed.

Stella climbed well past Torin effortlessly. She carried a pack of fishing nets and used a spear to help herself up the hill. She glanced back at him and he smiled a little.

He couldn’t help but think about how sad she was just a few days earlier. She paused at the top of the hill, waiting for him. “Taking your time today?” she asked as he caught up.

“Yes,” he grinned.

They continued toward the river, quiet for a while. But the question still tugged at his focus. Finally, he said, “...In the time we’ve gotten to know each other...I’ve never seen you so sad. Are you alright, Stella?”

She held a smile, though it was subtle and unhappy. “I am fine.” Her smile warmed up a bit, “Thank you.”

They continued walking and he pressed the issue. “Want to talk about it?”

She sighed, looking to the branches above them. “When someone joins the Ajaret, the women are made to be barren. A pregnant assassin isn’t of much use,” she said. He frowned, watching her with a weakening heart. She shrugged, trying to ignore the thought. “It’s alright. I knew it was a cost for my position. From time to time I just think about what might have been.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he finally said lowly.

“It’s alright,” she shrugged again. “Let’s get some fish, right?”

“Right,” he said lowly, following her.

They spent plenty of time wading through waist-deep water, setting their nets. They spent hours jabbing fish with spears and preparing them to bring home. It was tiring, and Torin preferred just to go hunting. It was easier. Drier.

His hands were sore, he was soaked, and his boots squished as he walked. Stella laughed at his complaints and lifted a bare foot into view. “It is why I just go without shoes now.”

“I don’t like twigs jabbing my feet,” he grunted.

“A tolerance which can be built,” she replied simply.

They headed back, quiet a moment. Then Stella asked, “You hear anything from your brother?”

“...Mmm. No,” he shook his head. “I might be visiting him soon.”

“Send my greetings,” she smiled. “I’d like to see him again.”

“You can come next time. But this is a bit more personal.”

“I understand.”