Young Writers Society

Author's Note: 2,264 words

The landscape shifted so slowly that sometimes she suspected she was running in place. Yet Eremia, ever since she left the borders of the Confederacy for the first time in her life, never felt any farther from home. The Doves never strayed away from the gaze of the rolling hills - the hills blocked the group's vision, splitting the landscape into two pieces - but Eremia couldn't imagine that The Confederacy she knew lay on the other side. Hence, she kept her gaze on the opposite side, watching the dry plains with an interest the dulled little over the hours and days. It was quiet; it was almost picturesque; it was completely foreign.

In the mid-morning hours of one particularly sunny, hot day, however, she awoke to find Katerina kneeling patiently beside her, looking down on her in her sunny smile. This was normal, as creepy as Eremia found it; Katerina didn't much understand the concept of personal space. It was the way that Katerina's eyes darted around and her smile seemed forced that caught Eremia's attention the most.

"Jonathan wants to see you," Katerina said, noticing that Eremia was finally awake.

Eremia propped herself on her arms and blinked at the light rushing in from outside. "Why?" she said, thoughts dulled by the haze that ate at her senses.

"We might be in trouble?" Eremia wasn't sure what made her bolt upright - that Katerina drew out the "might," that Katerina laughed uneasily, or the thought of Jonathan wanting to see her.

Regardless, Eremia pushed herself forward, carrying her blanket with her as she scooted along the wagon floor. True to Katerina's word, Jonathan stood just outside of the wagon. Bow strapped to his back, the sun making the drops of sweat on his arms glisten, Jonathan had a surprisingly happy expression. Specks of dust spilled off his hair as he waved to Eremia. "Doing well?"

"Yeah," Eremia said, trying to force some energy into her laconic voice. "Is something wrong?" She noticed that he looked paler than usual.

Jonathan shook his head, catching Eremia's stare. "Only the training," he said. "I didn't sleep. I would've, but Alarick wants a team. There's a village under attack."

In the back of her head, Eremia remembered that Alarick had mentioned something about raiders harassing the towns in one of his previous meetings. "I suppose you wanted to let me know?" she said, slightly confused. Her stomach grumbled and her head faintly ached (it had gradually adjusted to the rough floor of the wagon), but both weakened in each moment she watched Jonathan smile.

"I'd like you to come," he replied, holding out a hand. "You are being trained."

Eremia instinctively reached over to grab the hand, but Katerina pulled at her sleeve. "What?" hissed Eremia.

Craning her head, Eremia saw Katerina lean over and start to whisper, though the latter started shaking. "It's dangerous, and I don't want you to get hurt."

"Will you be with me?" Eremia said, eyebrow raised. Katerina had, for the most, stayed as Eremia's protector - leading Eremia around, introducing her to people, conjuring magic whenever something bumped in the night (though Katerina pretended she wasn't doing anything). By all accounts, Katerina was a competent mage, capable of alternating between icicles that were as sharp as arrows and bolts that scorched the ground. Sure, since talent in one class of magic diminished one’s potential in others, she wasn't especially strong in either. But she could fight, and that’s what mattered. Besides, Eremia's training had honed her accuracy and toned her muscles. Why was there any reason to be afraid?

Katerina shook her head swiftly. "They want me to scope the number of raiders."

"In that case, with your skills, I should be fine," Eremia said, placing her hand on Katerina's paw and nodding affirmatively.

As Katerina's teeth clattered, Eremia felt like her words did not have much effect. Still, Katerina clutched Eremia's hand. "Okay, I won't stop you," she managed to say, words rattled. "But there's something else. You need to watch out for someone."

"Who?" Eremia said. She turned her head back to see Jonathan's hand retracted. Jonathan, arms crossed, stood patiently.

While Katerina drew in a breath, a horn sounded over the campsite. The surroundings exploded into a fury of activity, soldiers marching from their tents in full gear and walking in the direction opposite the hills. Jonathan shrugged and reached out a hand again, doing so in more urgency.

"You'll know them when you see them," said Katerina eventually, breaching the impatience that swelled up in Eremia.

Eremia accepted Jonathan's hand, pushing herself off the back of the wagon and stepping neatly on the ground. She turned around to help Katerina step down, holding both of the latter's hands. On landing, Katerina mouthed a few goodbyes and ran off, waving towards a few soldiers in the distance. Eremia only hoped that Katerina was alright, or would be; she felt confident enough in herself.

"I'll take you to my tent," Jonathan said as they started walking in the opposite direction. "There should be food."

Stomach grumbling, Eremia nodded. She suspected she might lose the food, so to speak, in a fight, but she wanted to be totally alert and ready during the combat itself. It was also a chance to spend some time with Jonathan, which she happily admitted to herself.

Horns blared off in the distance - they sounded fainter, but no less urgent. Keeping up with Jonathan proved tiring for Eremia, who had to deal with his long and frequent strides. "How has your training been?" Eremia finally asked, though she knew the answer. She simply couldn't come up with anything else to say.

"Worse than usual," said Jonathan, cheery tone blunted. "He wants to train me fast."

"You would think he would have something better to do," Eremia replied, smelling the musky odor of the countless fires in the camps being stamped out of existence (the burning material being a replacement of wood she'd rather not specify). "Katerina said he sleeps at odd intervals in the day."

Jonathan shrugged before gesturing for the soldiers walking across the path to get out of his way. "That's normal for him. Been so for most of his life."

"Where did he get his own training from?" Eremia said, ducking between two people carrying a saddle.

Another shrug. "He doesn't want to tell me. Just that it's from Elchanan."

"The country of lions?" Eremia shivered. She'd always heard about the nation in the whispers in conversations around the castle. Elchanan periodically harassed the north of Exedor, brining their large armies and bravado. Otherwise, she knew little about them, except the country ran itself strictly, and devoted most of its resources to building an army.

"I guess," Jonathan said. A pause. "Terasu's leaving you alone, right?"

Eremia shook her head, respondingly slowly. "No? Why would she?"

"It's nothing," said Jonathan quickly.

She wanted to ask further questions, but she couldn't. By now, the soldiers had massed into crowds. At regular intervals, men and women would break off from the gatherings and ask Jonathan questions as they walked, such as about the enemy forces, how many people he was planning to bring, and the strategy. He answered simply and quietly, citing estimates and drawing points in the air. Eremia felt out of her element; he knew everyone, and he blended right into the choas. She was out of a place, an anomaly that people gave odd glances and ignored.

However, despite the interruptions, it wasn't long before the two arrived at the equivalent of an open-air mess hall. It was a few tables stretched out on the earth and surrounded by empty benches, the soldiers having mostly abandoned it in their haste to get ready. From the center of the space, a black-haired woman weaved around the tables and waved towards Jonathan.

"Eremia," said Jonathan, stepping aside and gesturing to the woman, "this is Lyness, my second-in-command."

"A pleasure," Eremia said sweetly, shaking hands with Lyness, who had a firm grip.

Lyness let go first, turning to Jonathan. "Is this your girlfriend?" she said innocently, winking a few times.

Jonathan blushed. "Yes, we're close. Do you have to mention it now?"

Lyness's smile hardened into a frown. Eremia was surprised at the swiftness of the transformation. "If you bring her, you'll have to keep her safe and do your job."

Annoyance burrowed into Eremia's heart. "I can take care of myself," she said, glaring at Lyness.

"You?" Lyness retorted, facing Eremia. Jonathan pushed himself between the two, stretching out his hands to keep each of the two back. "You're just a girl."

Oh, Eremia realized – this had to be the person Katerina had told her about. Eremia didn’t like her already.

"When The Doves found you, so were you," Jonathan said swiftly. He craned his head to look into Lyness's eyes, and Eremia imagined his stare hardening. "She can fight. I'm too tired - I need help."

"Fine," Lyness said at last, her hard gaze morphing into a frown as she turned away. "But I won't excuse your sorry ass if you're too busy to be at the front lines with me." She walked off.

Jonathan took a deep breath as Lyness exited. He looked around the table, finding a piece of meat and bread laying at one corner. Only after Jonathan stretched himself to pick up the food and hand it to Eremia did the latter speak. "Does everyone hate me?" she said.

Sighing, Jonathan sat down on one of the benches and covered one of his eyes with a hand. "It's her job to order everything; she wants to do it."

Eremia looked down at the food, wondering why it had been neglected. The prospect soured them in her mind, hungry as she was. She knew that she had to eat them, since there likely was little else - still, she decided to distract herself and Jonathan, so she didn't have to think about it. "Given her name, I suppose she is a lioness?"

"Yes," Jonathan said. "Alarick came up with the name himself."

"Did she not have one?" Eremia said, taking a bite of the meat. It was gamey and stringy, but otherwise fine.

Jonathan massaged his right temple while staring at the wood. "He found her in a bush. Don't know where, don't know when. She was a baby. She's been around longer than most the rest."

"And she happens to be your second-in-command?" Eremia said, raising an eyebrow as she ate the bread. It was bland.

"I work better with others," he replied. "She doesn't like me much."

Jonathan stood and began to walk again, still pushing on his temple. Running briefly to catch up, Eremia quickly finished off the meat and teared into the bread. It was undignified for her to eat so messily, but she reasoned that she didn't have the time to eat any other way. "Is that why I have not heard of her before?" Eremia said between bites.

"Yes," Jonathan said, stopping in front of group of horses. Numerous riders were already saddled and prepared, watching him patiently as he stood there. "I have enough problems right now."

Eremia swallowed the rest of the bread. Now, as she saw Jonathan clamber onto his brown horse, she had a feeling that she guessed Katerina had earlier. "Will I?" she said, gesturing to the horse. Her teeth started to clatter, and her heartrate tripled. The enormity of what she had become a part of finally weighed on her.

Pointing to the back of the saddle, Jonathan nodded. "Get on," he said calmly, noticing Eremia's growing panic. "We’ll be fine.”

The mass of faces turned their eyes on Eremia. Her skin felt clammy, her breaths ragged. A loud voice in her head demanded that she walk away - this was war, and she, despite her knowledge, had no place in it. Another voice piped up and pointed out that it could both literally and metaphorically keep her closer to Jonathan. Besides, Eremia knew that she and Jonathan were both competent, and her confidence used this to egg her on. So, after a minute spent looking as calm and casual as possible, eyeing each person and their horse while nodding in approval, Eremia went to Jonathan's horse.

Jonathan smiled, lifting her up with his hand. She took her assigned place, whereupon she tried to keep her balance against the saddle's back edge. When Jonathan pulled on the reins and the horse trotted forward, Eremia found keeping herself stable was futile. Blushing, she wrapped her arms around Jonathan's chest, (though she was frustrated by how dusty he perpetually was). If Jonathan noticed the gesture, he didn't respond.

In any case, Jonathan urged his horse on, its pace increasing to a gallop as it was followed, and eventually overtaken, by the mass of other riders. Jonathan rode at a steady pace, disregarding the raised spears and eager shouts of his own soldiers. She wondered if it was for her own sake, or if it was normal for him. The cloud of dust obscured Eremia's vision, but a few harrowing glances (as the effort threatened to pull her off, which was not an experience she wanted to go through again) behind her suggested that they were hurtling away from the camp. For the most part, she stared to the side to avoid being battered by the wind and dust, watching the landscape roll by unsteadily.

She hoped, by the Creator, that Katerina and the others would be alright.