What The Stars Withheld- Chapter 1

The morning air smelled of frost and pine, crisp enough to sting my lungs as I ran along the Soryn training grounds. An assortment of people from the Eryndel clan were practicing with weapons and elemental powers alike. I huffed a quiet laugh-as I passed a small group of children who were using makeshift weapons. It was obvious they were trying desperately to keep up with the trainees, falling multiple times in the process-aware of the need for breath control while running. Something everyone from Soryn-powers or not-were taught ever since we could walk. After all the old saying in our realm goes "If you can walk, you can run, spread your wings and fly". I shook my head, clearing my mind as I listened to the peaceful calm around me. My boots thudded against the earth, kicking up frozen dust, and I tried not to think about Lyren complaining about my speed. He’d shouted something about “control” and “patience,” but I didn’t have either today, or any other day-as he had dryly stated.

    The wind tugged at my hair and the hem of my cloak as if reminding me who I was, and I let it. There was a freedom in motion I couldn’t get sitting in a council room, pretending everything was calm. I felt a faint tingling in my fingertips as the breeze rushed by-fanning out my creamy blonde hair from behind me-and I made a circular motion with my index finger. There was a brief pause before I felt myself being lifted lightly from the ground, and it felt almost as if I were waltzing in the sky to a rhythm only I could hear being carried along by the wind. I glanced toward the distant horizon where Zythera met Soryn—far too quiet, far too orderly—and I wondered if Caeryn was already awake, probably meditating in that precise way of hers. I could see why she would need to. The entire realm was far too controlled and constrictive for my taste. I scrunched up my nose in distaste. How she hadn't died of boredom was beyond me.

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To be continued...