Evony sat in the watchtower. One eye closed, the other looking through the scope of her rifle, just like she had been taught so many years ago by a man who had looked like her. The action was as familiar as breathing. For six years Evony had grown up behind the scope of a rifle. Of course, that had been for a completely different reason.

There wasn't much to see, but at least this way she wouldn't fall asleep while on watch. Evony leaned back, blinking her dry, tired eyes. The next shift couldn't come soon enough. She almost groaned.

Then, she heard it, the soft beat of wings. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, almost painfully fast. Evony drew up her rifle to shoot if need be, and she really didn't want there to be a need. She sucked in a breath and let out a short, sharp whistle: the call of a sparrow. She held her breath until, what seemed like an eternity later, a blue jay's call answered her own.

Evony relaxed her position and brought down her rifle. It was just a scouting party coming back. Elizeus' party, the thought made her blush. The older boy always did that to her, though she was sure he had no idea. Evony doubted Elizeus even thought of her. She sighed wistfully, glad finally that she was alone in the watchtower.

The trap door shot open with a bang. Evony was ashamed to admit that a scream, and not a small one either, erupted out of her throat. She scared too easily, which was probably one of the reasons why at fifteen she still hadn't been on a mission outside of gathering food and supplies at markets.

"Saints!" Exclaimed Quillan, a boy only a year older than Evony. He's already been on a mission. Evony thought bitterly. "You can really scream." He rubbed at his ears.

"Sorry." Evony murmured, a flush creeping up her neck. At that moment, she'd give almost anything to hide behind her long curtain of blond hair, but it was braided back and there was no place for Evony to hide from Quillan's green-eyed gaze. "I'll just, eh, be going now."

She made to move towards the trap door, but the watchtower was more of a watch-box, so Evony had to nearly climb over Quillan. She was certain that her flush had turned her tomato-red. She was glad to disappear quickly through the trap door, hoping that Quillan hadn't seen her bright red face.

As Evony's feet hit the soft forest floor, she heard Quillan begin to sing a ballad, it was a famous one about the fabled Lost Child--bastard heir of Astos. She paused for a moment to listen to it; Quillan was one of the best singers in camp and she could not resist hearing his voice.

"O Queen high up in the sky

Hold on to that child tight

Beware, Saint Zavian is nigh

O Queen keep close that child bright

O hold her well and tightly, Queen of gold

Protect her in your warm embrace

That Lost Child has a story yet untold;

O Queen, that Lost Child's our saving grace

O Queen your last act for country

Cradle your Lost Child with care

She will for us do a sundry

O Lost Child you will bring us from their snare

O Lost Child we saw you in her arms

When you grow big and strong,

We will be waiting for you with firearms

O Lost Child we will fight for you in the throng

O Queen you gave us your Child

Who survived the Unmaking and was lost

She will see these warlords' wrongs reconciled

O Lost Child we know you'll free us no matt'r the cost"

Evony didn't mean to listen to the whole song, but she did, leaning against the trunk of the watchtower tree; it was only when Quillan switched to a song about a pretty lady sitting alone in a glen did Evony realize she needed to get back to camp, there was more she had to do before the day's end.

Evony trudged back into camp, tired and not wanting to do her chores in the slightest. Her eyes found Elizeus first, just as they always did. He was at a table with Rhosyn, Asena, and his younger brother--a boy named Altin, who at thirteen was six years his brother's junior. Rhosyn and Asena were washing and chopping what looked like mushrooms and berries, while the brothers were boiling water to purify it.

Elizeus was so beautiful. Evony watched him as she walked. His white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows was in perfect contrast to his ebony skin. Evony could see the hard muscle of his arms move against the tight sleeves of his shirt. His eyes were the color of dark caramel, his hair blacker than a starless night. Evony wasn't sure if a small moan had escaped her or not--not that she cared all that much when she was looking at Elizeus.

One moment, Evony was looking at the older boy, the next she was falling onto the mossy forest floor, her foot throbbing. She'd fallen over a tree root. Immediately, Evony's face heated to the temperature of a raging fire. There were some escapes of laughter by onlookers and Evony's tomato complexion returned.

"Are you okay?" A deep voice asked softly. Elizeus was holding out his hand to Evony. She flushed an even more lurid shade of red, but took his hand nonetheless. His calloused hand was huge and dwarfed her own.

"I'm, I'm alright." Evony said, letting herself be pulled up by Elizeus. She was embarrassed to think about how she must look to him: a curvy fifteen year old who couldn't even get a word out properly. She was grateful that he didn't groan or give an indication of a struggle while he lifted her weight.

Elizeus let her go the moment she was back on her feet. It wasn't even a second before Evony missed the warmth and feel of his hand in hers.

"Thank you." She said softly, sheepishly, wishing again for her long hair to cover her face and all the emotions written there. All Elizeus did was nod and turn back to the table. She hated herself for the blush that rose across her cheeks as her gaze slid south.

Evony thumbed at her flaxen hair until it was free of it's braid and hung to her full breasts. She was sure others were still snickering at her fall, but better that than at the love-struck child, enamored with a boy who didn't even look twice at her.