Sunrise

The soft murmur of slumberous breathing hung in the air like the serenading strands of cicadas' song. It called me away from my thoughts, pulling me from the endless circling of warriors and the clutter of shields in the main hall. How could this child sleep so peacefully while her delicate life hung in the balance? Obliviousness must have kept her dreaming. Her young, infantile mind could not lock around the danger that was hastily approaching, no more than it could lock around the differences between her appearance and the features of her care givers. 1

The child slept amongst white linen sheets. Her skin was tinted the shade of new grass, sticking out against her bed cloths. If she had been awake, her large, almond shaped eyes would hold irises the color of periwinkle. Beautiful eyes that claimed the heart of all who gazed into them. That was why so many human warriors were willing to die for her. I personally was fond of the child’s hair. Her long mane of golden white locks fanned out above her sleeping head and weaved along side her tiny body, nearly to her knees. Hair just like her mother’s; like spun incandescent thread. 2

As my hand weaved through the silken tresses, I was pulled into memories of the first time I saw these strands. It had been the spring after I had turned seven years old and the year of Ezdorian’s first battle with the Fae. My father had been killed in battle and my mother perished from illness brought on by Faerie magic. I was alone in the world and sent to live at the Warrior’s Keep, a place where young boys go to train to be a member of the Ezdorian Court Guard. I cleaned and cooked for these boys and the men who were their trainers. In exchange, I was given shelter, food, and clothing. I was surviving, but not truly living. The boys were forbidden to show me any mind, all the other maids were adults, and I rarely left the Warrior’s Keep grounds, thus I had no friends and only a life of servitude to look forward to.3

When I was ten, the King’s daughter turned ten as well, and she came to the Keep with her father to choose the three boys who would one day be the three leaders of her Court Guard. These three would be bound to her in a state of almost matrimony, never marrying or having a family of their own and devoting their life to their charge. From that moment on, they would spend nearly every waking moment of their lives by her side.4

I had been told not to speak to the Royal family unless spoken to, so I tried to avoided them and scrub floors, yet the curious little Princess had found me anyway.5

“What’s your name?” she had asked me then, her voice small and high pitched like the song of a bird. 6

I had been stunned to see her standing behind me dressed in a fine blue gown, her hair long and almost white in the sunshine.7

“Alvira,” I responded, and I bowed so low that my nose nearly touched the ground.8

“Please, don't do that. Everyone does that. I’m not a Queen yet.” Her tone had been so nonchalant and, though it felt strange, I did as she told me. She had sat with me for a long time, talking about many different things. And then she asked the question that decided the rest of my life, though I hadn’t known it then.9

“Why aren’t you training and showing off like the others?” she questioned as she took a strand of my black hair in her hand and compared it to her own.10

“Because I am a girl, madam. I’m here to clean, not to train.”11

I can still recall just the way her face scrunched up at this. She had appeared about to say something when her father called her name.12

“Rania!” he had bellowed, and she smiled before running in the direction she heard the voice.13

When it came time for Rania to choose the three boys she liked best, I was serving wine to the adults. She stood strong like a tree although she resembled a flower, and spoke in a regal voice that I came to realize she only used in the presence of her father. 14

“I choose Abasi and Topi. And as the leader of my guard, I choose Alvira.”15

Not a soul was as shocked as I to hear my name. Her father had tried to dissuade her from her choice of me, an untrained girl, as a member of her guard, much less it’s leader, but she never faltered.16

“Then she can be trained, Father. It is all very simple.” Her diplomatic mentality and skills in persuasion bent him to agree at that time. And those very same skills served her well throughout her life.17

I did begin my training and, to the surprise of everyone, was a quick learner. Naturally skilled. When I wasn’t away training, Rania and I spent time together. She told me everything about her life and thoughts, and I shared everything with her. She was my savior, my future Queen, and most of all, my best friend. She was the closest thing to family that I had and the only true friend I had ever known. I was loyal to her for giving me all these things. As was expected, like any good warrior, I committed me life to hers.18

One summer after she and I had turned thirteen, we sat beneath one of the many oak trees along the outskirts of the Castle grounds weaving crowns of dandelions. There was a shadow in the near by wood and I drew my sword at first sight, prepared to fight for her safety. But she had grabbed my arm, stopping me in my tracks.19

“It’s just Lorcan. He comes to watch me sometimes. We are in love, Alvira. He’s the man I want to marry.” 20

I watched then as a tall boy stepped into the light of the forest. His skin was green as emeralds and etched with leaf like marks. Long hair the color of tree bark slide across his thin shoulders and high, sharp cheek bones framed lilac eyes. He was distinctly Fae; unnaturally thin and spindly yet beautiful for the same reasons. I knew then that Rania’s fantasies of marrying such a man were impossible, he being a mortal enemy to the Ezdorian Court, but I had enough of a heart to smile weakly and allow her to speak of him as she wished. 21

Lorcan was there in the trees on the day that Rania was married to another man at the age of seventeen, wearing the band of silver in his hair that marked him as King of the Fae. I knew that Rania knew he was there, for she cried after her vows were said. Only I knew her well enough to see that those tears were not from joy, but from heartbreak. Lorcan waged war with the King of Ezdorian, in which our King lost his life and widowed Rania at the young age of nineteen. Even still, she was with child, thus the throne would have an heir and for nine months, I had scarcely left her side. 22

The child was born just three days after Rania’s twentieth birthday. The child, a beautiful girl, that Rania used her last breath to name Zora. Zora, the future Queen of Ezdorian and the only half Faerie child ever to be born. She is the product of my Queen’s liaison with Lorcan and also the source of our current war with the Fae. Lorcan’s wife, Talei, who could not bear him children, called for the death of her unfaithful husband’s spawn. He had obliged her, holding all the calculated coldness of Faerie King.23

“Alvira?” 24

Someone called my name from the door way, their voice thick with worry, and it pulled me from my recollections. I turned to see Abasi, my second in command, dressed in near full body armor. He held my own chainmail in his hand. 25

“The Fae army is rapidly approaching. Our forces have been equipped with iron armor and weapons as you’ve instructed. There is nothing more that we can do now besides fight and hope for the best.” Abasi’s eyes were careful pools of gray smoke. I claimed the chainmail from his grasp, slinging my arms through the thick braids of metal. 26

“Has Zora awakened at all?” he asked as I tied my hair back with a lather cord from around my wrist.27

“No,” I said, looking towards the thin, lithe child. “She hasn’t stirred at all. I hope she doesn’t. She doesn’t need to see war at such a young age.” I bit my lip with anxious fear. I had to protect the child at all costs. She was all that I had left of my best friend and Queen.28

The very idea of Zora never again opening her heavenly eyes sent a shock of revulsion through me, as if I had been struck by lightning. I lived to serve my Queen, and in her absence, I lived to serve her child. Fae or not. 29

“Tell me that this isn’t a lost cause, Abasi. Tell me that I can save Zora.” 30

I took his hand in mine, in need of comfort, but my eyes could not leave the child. From the leaf shaped shadows that graced the smooth skin of her cheek to the long and nimble fingers of her small hands, she was perfect in every imaginable way. She was so very odd compared to me, possessing none of the dark features of my woman’s body, yet she was more a part of me than my own flesh.31

Abasi squeezed my hand with his own, his palms callused and warm. 32

“If anyone could devise a plan to save her, it is you, Alvira. You have done all that you can.”33

“Let us hope that it is enough.”34

Light filled the sky outside of the castle window. Hazes and streaks of violet and silver Faerie magic flung to and fro accompanied with the cries of my comrades and our Fae adversaries alike. The battle for my world’s fragile center had begun. 35

I looked once more at the child before running my hand through her silken hair. There were no words that I could say. I refused to say goodbye, even though the chances of me returning to her alive were nearly impossible. If I were to die, I would die fighting for my loyalty to her. I would die for the child who had come to mean more to me than even my own life. 36

The three maids I had assigned to watch over Zora rushed into the room as Abasi and I ran from it. My sword was unsheathed from my side before my feet even hit the grass of the castle courtyard. 37

“Remember, Abasi. Don’t look into their eyes. Don’t allow yourself to be charmed.” It was a parting reminder as we sprinted into the onslaught of Fae. 38

The air smelled strongly of iron and blood, a choking metallic tang so strong that I could nearly taste it. The carcasses of the dead lying around me faded into nothing as I slipped into a state of adrenaline charged battle. The iron of my sword singed into the skin of Faerie after Faerie, penetrating into their emaciated appearing frames, their beautiful faces cringing with screams as their blood pooled black around their feet. 39

I avoided each of their eyes, swinging my sword at any movement my eyes caught. I didn’t worry about striking one of my own. The Fae all had such brilliant skin tones that it would be impossible to mistake a human as one of them. Skin colored rose, blue, golden, and even green fell by my hand. At times, I could feel the sting of their magic hit me. Somehow, I kept moving no matter what the curse or pain it caused. I fought with single minded fury, desiring only one outcome. 40

“Alvira!” 41

Abasi’s voice screamed my name. His eyes were locked on a Fae’s; a golden skinned female with hair long and white as new snow. I watched as Abasi, charmed, raised his own sword and thrust it into his abdomen. Crimson poured from the fatal wound as well as from his mouth. Light drifted from his eyes and he fell to the ground. 42

A new fiery rage coursed through my veins as I moved toward the golden Faerie, the murderer of my brother in battle. My concentration gone, I made the fatal mistake of looking into her pitch black, liquid eyes. My limbs went under her control and I was instantly paralyzed. My own sword rose in hands that were no longer mine and I pierced my stomach with the iron, cold metal sinking into me through my chainmail with a tearing sound unlike anything I had ever heard.43

I sank to my knees, my vision blurring long enough to lose sight of the Fae. I prepared for death to come swiftly, yet I lay in the battle field for ten long minutes before I began to slip. Slender hands grasped me beneath my arms and began dragging me into the near by wood. I wanted to speak, to tell this stranger to leave me, but I had lost too much blood. I was too weak to even move on my own accord. 44

Green skin flashed before my eyes and I felt panic rush through me. Was I about to be tortured? Was I not dieing quickly enough for these Fae beasts? Eyes hovered just above mine. Orbs of pale purple. Eyes that could only belong to one person other than my Zora.45

“Lorcan?” I managed, my voice scraping from my throat in a dry whisper. 46

He nodded urgently before speaking. His strangely accented voice spilled out wildly. 47

“Listen to me. You cannot die here,” Lorcan said, taking an ornate silver dagger from his boot and slicing his own arm. The black blood welled up at the wound and he squeezed the fluid into my gash. It burned with excruciating zeal at first, but then it subsided into a surreal numbness that filled my entire body. 48

“What did you do to me?” I asked, disbelieving as I seemed to heal at a rapid speed.49

“I gave some of my magic to you. Only enough for you to mend yourself.”50

“Why? You are the reason I was harmed in the first place,” I growled, sitting up and sliding away from him.51

“I am not. My wife, however, is. Talei called for war. Talei calls for the death of my child. I did nothing.”52

“Except allow her to do it.” The lack of pain morphed into a hollow lack of feeling. 53

“How do you believe I could stop it? Talei had her mind set and this is the result. Now, I didn’t save your life to argue who’s to blame. I saved your life so that you could save my daughters. Talei was the one who tired to kill you and she’s going to try and kill my Zora as well. Fight her. You’re the only one who can,” he pleaded.54

“She’ll only charm me again. How do I fight someone I cannot raise my sword against?”55

“If you survive a faeries charm they can never charm you again. Most do not live to test this theory. You have. Go. Please. Before it is too late. Zora is all that I have left of Rania. I’d like to hold her in my arms before the end of my days.” It was the break in his voice at the mention of Rania’s name that made me trust him. I could understand his pain. He had lost his lover. I had lost my sister.56

Full of frustration, I stood with sword in hand and gazed into his eyes fearlessly, almost daring him to charm me. 57

“When I kill your woman, I expect for you to call of your troops. Lorcan…if you betray me, I will have your head as well as your kingdom. Remember that Zora is the heir to your throne as well as ours.”58

Without another word, I ran from the woods and through the hoards of those still battling. I was running for the only place I could imagine Talei could be; the Castle nursery where Zora slept. I could hear the screams of the maids from the bottom of the stairs. They were not fleeing and for this, I was happy. I had at least entrusted Zora into hands that would endure pain for her protection. The muscles in my legs pumped harder as I pushed myself faster. The high pitched keening of a child’s cry pierced the air and sent chills of cold fear from the center of my crown to the ends of my toes. I pushed myself harder. I kicked the door in, breaking the lock and the hinges. Faerie magic dully resided in my veins and the fierceness made the limits of my strength bend, but not break. 59

Talei stood over the cradle where Zora wailed, surrounded by the remains of her maid protectors. My hand gripped the iron with the desire to burn Talei’s soft tissue into chards.60

“Step away from the child,” my voice seethed with venom.61

Her cold, black eyes glanced at me and a smug smile slipped across her lips.62

“She is beautiful. Just as the human witch that spawned her was. Such fine hair, too. I think I’d like to knit a scarf from this hair.” 63

She grasped a strand of Zora’s hair between her fingers, tugging just hard enough to jerk Zora’s head. I launched myself at her, looking into her eyes as she cackled. She had an intent gaze, as if she meant to charm me, obviously not recognizing me as the woman she had attempted to murder on the field. When I did not stop my movement towards her, the complacency drained from her face and was replaced by pure terror.64

I sank my sword into her chest, concaving the ribs in towards her center. She did not speak or cry out. She only looked into my eyes, shock and anger evident in her features.65

“Pity that your hair is too vile to be made into a scarf,” I said, a smile of triumph filling my face.66

She sank to the floor, her black blood like oil staining her hair and clothes. I went to Zora who, upon seeing me, seized her tears. She was unharmed and that knowledge overflowed my chest with elation so strong that I could have sung. Outside, the voice of Lorcan called off his Fae armies. Zora would remain safe. I lift the child into my sore arms, tucking her closely to my chest. She wrapped her small fingers through my knotted hair, just as fascinated by its dark color as her mother had been. Just like her mother, Zora gripped me from the borders of my humanity and placed me in a world as light and pure as air. She was a sign of new beginnings. Not only for me, but for all who followed her.67

“You are the sunrise, little one. You are my Queen.”68

I planted two small kiss between her eyes; one for myself and one for Abasi. One day when she was older, I would tell her of Abasi and how he gave his life for her. For the moment, all was well in my small stretch of the universe. My center was saved.69