Aida was being dragged away by her mother as Bael lead the horses away. A scowl spread across his face as he stared ahead. She was insufferable sometimes. She just…she just said that they died, with no emotion showing on her face. She just looked at Ganger with a blank expression, like they just hadn’t watched their brothers get torn to shreds not even half an hour ago. She was a completely different girl to the one he had to tear away from the border and certain death. He suddenly came to the realisation that it was probably just her method of coping, but he shook his head.

She had been trained to be a courtier by her mother. She had to be able to deflect the rumours and snide comments. To counter against the blatant attempts on her life. But the blank look…was that truly necessary? They were talking about their friends…their brothers…about their family. But her face had been icy and her eyes hard as stone. She’d never worn that face before when talking of their family. He realised it made him mad as he neared the stables and handed the reigns to a small stable boy who only nodded before scurrying away.

He turned his head to glance at a frozen puddle and stared at his reflection. He laughed cynically. The epitome of beauty he was. His face covered in splatters of mud and his clothing still felt damp. The cold was really starting to sink into his bones now and the icy breeze that always blew through the camp only made it worse. He felt numb. He was glad for the cold. It meant he could still feel something. It wasn’t like he’d seen people die before. Hell, he’d killed people with his own bare hands. But this was different.

These were his brothers.

He gritted his teeth and stormed toward the barracks. He needed a strong drink.

A gentle but firm hand on his shoulder stopped him and his blood turned cold…Astra. How could she have found him so soon? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, turning to face the priestess.

“I didn’t think you’d be back so soon. How is everything?” she smiled, and it lit up her face. Bael’s heart thundered in his chest. He couldn’t tell her now. He needed to get away. Even though they were out in the open, he suddenly felt that he couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was suffocating.

“Bael? Are you okay? You’re really pale…” she frowned, causing a small furrow between her brows as she placed a hand to his forehead. “Your temperature’s normal.” She withdrew her hand, instead eyeing the cloak. She tutted as she felt the wet fur. “Get changed before you catch a cold. I want to talk to you after…” she glanced at the tent that served as a makeshift temple where five other priestesses filed in. “I have to go, but you will tell me why you’re glaring at everything and scaring everyone away.” She shook her head and walked off, pulling her black hood back over her head as she neared the temple, curtseying to the statue of the Mother. She murmured a prayer before kissing its forehead and walking inside.

Mother be damned, he thought, looing skywards. Where was she when two good men were just killed. Where was she when he lost loved one after loved one. He straightened his back and stalked into the barracks. He’d never been a devoted worshipper. He knew Her powers were real, he’d seen magic, the priestesses used it. But to believe that she controlled everything and had a path already laid out for everyone even before their birth? He scoffed as he sat at his bed and reached for his casket of ale. Fate, destiny, whatever the priestesses called it, it sure wasn’t something that he believed in. He commanded his own fate, and no one would tell him otherwise. For good measure he cursed Her again and drank deeply of his ale. He then lay back on the bed and sighed.

He was abruptly all too aware of the deathly quiet that descended upon the camp and finally mustered the strength to walk out the door. Men were pale and stood transfixed on the cliff face. His eyebrows rose as he gazed at them but when he looked for himself, he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. The colour left his face and his whole body began to tremble at the sight lay before him.

It was too late.

They were here.