The air was getting warmer once again as the cold front passed over the small town of Fuulen. I stepped outside, smelling the air laden with pollen and joy in equal measure.

  What little training I had managed alongside my extensive rest told me that, while I had awakened my magic, I still had no way of controlling the beast. I called him names, asked for his help, even vaguely gestured to show him what I wanted. Regardless, he only had one directive: burn.

  I stretched both of my arms, exhaustion leaving my system by the second. The townspeople were crowded around something shiny in the center of the square. Maybe someone had unearthed an ancient artifact that would unknowingly doom the entire town... or something of the sort.

  I could make up stories all day to entertain myself. Nonetheless, I moved to investigate the commotion.

  Reality had once again disappointed my theories.

  “Hear ye, people of the town of Fuulen!” Barked a man clad in brigandine, bucket helmet gleaming in the sunlight.

  A banner flew in the wind behind him as his inferior held it steady. A symbol drawn upon the banner was one I was most familiar with: A throne clad in the richest finery, with a lonely gauntlet sitting atop it. The symbol of my childhood hero, Merric.

  “We are seeking the presence of one by the name of Marilleth. Should anyone recognize this arrow, please find words easy on your tongue.”

  He held up an arrow by the fletched end. Loosely carved into the shaft of a blood-tinged broadhead lay the name he spoke. The arrow that killed the trophy, now in the hands of this sergeant. Not one person spoke; The crowd was utterly unimpressed.

  The soldier on horseback growled,

  “I demand to see the owner of this arrow! On the name of Hanss Vuudweyen, duke of the northern fringes.”

  His posturing was pathetic. So quick to invoke the authority of the house without drawing steel first. How he had command over the small regiment behind him was beyond me.

  “His lordship has need of a new hunter immediately! The previous subject met his last, after trying to fake his expertise.”

  The reason finally came out. Whispers began among the crowd,

  “They think that they can waltz in here and make demands again?” A young man scoffed.

  “They want to take the best of us for their own gain?” Said another hunter, bow slung across his shoulder.

  The people were unhappy with the demands being made of them. Hunters were, after all, the lifeblood of this village. Taking away the best of them: Maids, smiths, men for their garrison. The nobility weighed on recent memory for them. Mothers and sons, fathers and daughters.

  “If you lot do not bring the woman before us, and in the event of her fleeing do not aid us, you all will be subject to the will of the Duke! I will return ere’ the sun retires!”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  He tossed the arrow in the direction of the crowd, and after pulling myself through the mass, jumped as high as I could to catch it. The horseman’s gaze burned itself into the side of my head, desperate to recognize what seemed familiar in me.

  “Well now... the exiled heir makes his face known. You are ever as graceful as the droppings of a deer.”

  Was that... truly the best he could come up with? Really?

  “Thy rose-gold hair is a blemish on the perfection of the house. I would slay you here if I had the authority. I suspect I will soon.”

  I would not take him so seriously, were I not meant to die in my exile.

  There was a reason that my father chose that day in particular, the snowstorm. Had Fray not intervened, I would be long gone. I wanted to teach the man what a proper insult sounded like. Something along the lines of...

  “Even a deer could shit better than your throat.”

  But I refrained. The short tempered commander could easily justify wiping out the entire town, even if it meant his own execution.

  The mass dispersed as the clink of chainmail moved into the distance. I held the arrow tightly in my hand, the very same that Marie had wept over. I slipped it into my belt so that it would not budge, and made my way back home.

  The door creaked open, a product of snow melting into the hinges. The smell of bread permeated the room, and Marie was carefully examining the contents of the oven, ensuring that they rose properly.

  “Marie, how are the rolls shaping up?”

  She turned with a smile, “They’re doing-”

  Silence joined the bread in its permeation. She glanced over at my belt

  “Is... is that...”

  I pulled the arrow out of its place, and held it out toward her.

  “How it came into my hands is complicated, but you should hear the story.”

  She grasped the arrow with white knuckles. The widest grin I have ever seen spread across her face.

  “Alright!” She bellowed between celebratory swearing. “What’s the story, Leonn? Did the duke find out? Did he kill that damn hunter?”

  I told the whole story. The knights, the demands, and the threats. She seemed a little less cheerful than earlier, unfortunately.

  “Leonn... I can’t express how much I don’t want to serve those stupid nobles.”

  The fact lightened my mood. With her skill, she should be beholden to no one.

  “I agree, but you know how nobles are.”

  “Yeah, you’re stubborn.”

  My eyes narrowed. “So are they. You’ll have to disappear if that’s what you wish.”

  Her shoulders dropped from the sudden strain. In no circumstance could she stay here, either in servitude or freedom. I knew what I would choose, but my shoulders felt equally burdened. Her gaze thinned as she studied the intricacies of the stone-tiled floor, avoiding both my eyes and the topic.

  “Doesn’t... that mean you have to leave too?”

  “At least you get the choice. They’ll want my head as soon as they have orders to take it. If we are both leaving though...”

  Marie glanced up at me as I trailed off. “Let’s run together.”

  We continued to discuss for a while about what it would be necessary to bring. A lighter load would allow us to move quicker, but then we would run the risk of being quite ill-equipped. Bring too much and we may just find ourselves captured. Moreover, how could we keep the town out of this?

  Eligor entered the room unceremoniously, having awoken from his afternoon nap.

  “What’s all this racket about arrows, an’ leavin? You’re not planning on weaseling your way out of our deal, are you, boy?”

  After a quick explanation of the situation Marie and I found ourselves in, he was lost in his wise old head.

  His arms folded, the wrinkles on his face twisted. eyes darting around the room as he stood in silence.

  “You two ran northeast, escaping into the neighboring Federation of Akkta’s sliver of the northern fringes.”

  He paused to think for a moment more, blanketed in a thin mist of sorrow.

  “Marilleth, you lived here alone, and had no family. I’ll handle things here. Take whatever you need, and I hope to see you again when it’s all over. I’ll be waiting right here.”

  I was surprised at how quickly he was able to formulate such a well-crafted plan.

  “Marilleth, you’re smart so I don’t think I need to tell you to head south.”

  Tears began to form in Marie’s eyes, and the old man looked as if he was nearing that point.

  “Leonn, you are stupid, so head south.”

  My eyes went blank, one last jab before I go, huh?

  “Both of you are now the hunted, so be wary of what tracks you’re leavin’.”