Katla stood at the entrance of the tavern, her legs quaking in excitement. The warmer than normal morning was fitting for her last day ever standing in the tavern. She whispered a silent prayer to the Gods, thanking them for the gift that had stumbled upon this town that would allow her to finally escape.
She stood there quietly, observing Cahir as he tied the healthy mare to the post. Katla could see the anxiousness settling in over the brooding and terrifying man in his attempt at conversation towards the Prophet. The girl had solemn spoke since his display of authority, and Katla could see that Cahir was unamused at the girl’s dismissal.
“I am going ahead, Althea. Try not to give her any problems,” Cahir stated pointedly. He gestured towards the horse, motioning her to mount. It was hard for Katla not to scoff at his request, but the Prophet was quick to grip the mare, and vault up onto the horse.
“Show off,” Katla muttered to herself.
Katla grew tired of watching Cahir’s pathetic attempts at conversation with the Prophet. The girl could hardly stand to look at him, and Katla could see that worried Cahir, even if his persistent frown seemed more menacing. She gestured towards him, and he obliged before giving one last look at the Prophet.
“My mother used to tell me if I kept frowning like that, my face would stay that way.” Katla put a finger between his narrowed brows, smoothing the area where creases were beginning to form. “You’re too young to have wrinkles.”
He swatted her hand away, adjusting the sword on his guard, “I am risking a lot having you take her. If you ruin this, you won’t ever make it to Vega. I’d advise you to not veer off from the course that I have set for you.”
“I get it. You have enough of a burden with the Vega King breathing down your neck. I know it wouldn’t be good if the King found out you had the Prophet in your hands, and she disappeared, right?”
Cahir scowled, and snatched the bag off her shoulder, “You have two days to reach the Arcturus and Spica border by horse. If not, I burn you on top of the very horse that you’re riding.”
Katla rolled her eyes, unphased by his threat. “You must be delusional to think I would do such a thing. You’ve not lived a day in my shoes, so you could never understand that I would absolutely die to just to get out of this place, Cahir. I owe you my life, and my loyalty. There is no amount of money that could add up what you have done for me.”
Cahir cleared his throat, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Well...just do your job properly and you will be able to be whoever and whatever you wish to be here on out.
Katla smiled, her cheeks warming. “Then we'll meet in two days. Try not to frown so much while we're gone!” Katla giggled, gently patting a hand on Cahir's arm. She walked over to the Prophet, placing hands on her hips as she stared up at the girl who refused to look at her.
“You're always frowning like him,” she gestured with a pointed thumb back at Cahir, “ease up, will you?” The Prophet took a sharp look, her cheeks flushing. For a moment Katla thought she would speak, but the gritting in the girl's teeth was a sure sign that she wasn't.
Katla promised Cahir that the Prophet would arrive safely at the border, but she did not plan to make it an easy one for her if the Prophet insisted on silencing herself.
The woods were still haunting for Katla, even after riding through them for the second night. Katla had avoided the Spican woods for years, only adventuring into them when food was scarce. She heard stories about these woods from Finn’s incessant gossip to his visitors, and nothing frightened her more than running into a Mara.
She’d never seen one before, but stories of these animal-like creatures distorting into haunting black masses chilled her. Even though Katla had decided to make the trip miserable for the girl sitting in front of her, hearing herself blather on about nonsensical things calmed her. It’s something she would never willingly admit.
“Y’know I’m kinda impressed. Not even one word out of you, not even to tell me to shut up. I would say that’s admirable. But you’re not even curious about where we’re going? Not even afraid about tagging along with a bunch of strangers?” Althea sighed heavily, frustration and annoyance noted in her breath.
Noises in the distance caught Katla’s attention, and she urged the horse to trot a little faster. “I have to say, if I were in your shoes, I’d have a million questions. I mean, you could be walking right into your death.”
A chill ran down Katla’s spine when the words came out of her mouth. Before the Vala ban had been removed, there were many Prophets who suffered cruel and public deaths. Their mere arrival was punishable without cause, due to a misplaced grief from the Vega King. There were no talks in neighboring villages that the Vala ban was to be removed. It came as a surprise to everyone when each kingdom sent word of its removal. Everyone seemed enthralled, but Katla felt more concerned about what was to come. The Kingdoms seemed to have something up their sleeves, and she felt delivering the Prophet was falling right into their trap.
“I’m not blind.” Katla’s ears perked at the sound of Althea’s feather-like voice. “What were the chances of someone stumbling upon me in these massive woods? I know he needs me, and whether it ends with my life or not, I’m still not disposable yet. In the meantime I get food and shelter.”
Katla whistled, “Wow, you’re the manipulative type, huh? You better be careful with that, though. That may very well bite you in the ass when you meet the Vega King.”
Althea’s slighted glare hid beneath the cowl that hung loosely over her head. Katla leaned in menacingly, “You wouldn’t know ‘cause you’re not from here, but that King is probably the worst of the worst. Under his rule, you’ve got all kinds of ways to die by his hand.” She snickered.
Althea’s head turned to face forward again, her shoulders pulling tightly towards her ears. “Don’t worry though, you’re the Prophet! Then again it has been two years since the last four arrived, and all of them are dead.” Katla waited for her entertaining friend to scream in horror, but she didn’t. Instead, the look on Thea’s face was one of amazement and relief.
“Are you saying that I didn’t arrive here alone?”
Katla’s brows knitted together in confusion, before she finally understood what Althea was asking. She ran a hand over her face in frustration, “That Knight sure hasn’t filled you in on anything. He sure left me with the shitty job. What can I expect though, I guess I need to pay my dues.” Katla shook her head and gave a pointed look at her, “That would be correct, you did not arrive alone.”
There was a glow to the girl’s face that she hadn’t seen from the moment Katla had met her. Katla had not felt that way in a long time, and she was a little envious of Althea’s resilient will. Katla had lost too many battles to find any hope in the world that she lived, and for that she hated Althea a little bit.
There was a brief moment of relief when seeing the distant yellow hue of what seemed to be multiple gaslights in the distance. For Katla, the distance was astronomical, being in the presence of the Prophet for her was becoming an annoyance, and she needed out. She sighed begrudgingly and gave the horse another kick to pick up the pace, but instead the horse jerked back, throwing both herself and Althea forward, nearly off the horse.
“What the hell horse? Are you broken?” Katla urged the horse forward, but this time the horse neighed in defiance, and took several steps back.
Althea looked back inquisitively at Katla, “Maybe she’s tired?”
“Like hell she’s tired! We just stopped a couple of hours ago! These horses are built for riding longer than that.” The horse’s snorting was becoming more aggressive and panicked, taking several steps backwards again. “Something must be spooking her,” Katla whispered.
“What is that?” Katla heard Althea whisper.
“What?”
Katla turned her head in the direction of where she could see the silhouette of Althea’s head facing. Katla could feel her heart thumping rapidly in her own chest, a sense of impending doom hovering over her.
“Don’t you hear that?” Althea whispered again, this time she was pressing her back against Katla’s chest, “It sounds like the trees are breaking in half.” The girl’s voice quivered.
Katla’s eyes quickly darted in the direction of the woods, searching. Her ears strained to hear, something, anything, but all she heard were the distant caws of the hungry ravens. She opened her mouth to speak, but the snide remark halted as she heard the creaks of branches. Katla thought that Althea had merely been exaggerating, but it sounded like trees were being crushed beneath the weight of something enormous; not branches, but whole trees. She looked upward towards the forest’s skyline, and she could see the tops of the bare trees moving.
Katla gripped Althea’s arm tightly, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “We need to jump and run towards the light.” Katla could see Althea’s round eyes through the darkness, fear seemingly darker than the night that surrounded them.
As soon as the girls had slid of the horse’s back, and Katla had unreined the horse, it took off in the opposite direction. For a moment Katla thought she should follow the animal, but her pridefulness reached towards the glowing lights miles ahead of them. Both women trudged through the snow, until hearing the shrill cry from the horse. They simultaneously turned to look at the scene behind them, both stopping in their tracks.
“Oh Gods, it was just a Sitka.” Katla gasped, placing both hands on her shaking knees. The horse had encountered a massive Sitka, its antlers braided in brush and leaves. The two animals stared at one another, the horse becoming more aggravated by the second.
“Come on, let’s go try and get our horse back.” Katla gestured towards the Prophet, but she stared fixated at the scene. “What’s wrong with you?”
Althea shook her head, the loose locks of her hair brushing against her face, “Something isn’t right.” Katla could see the girl’s hands trembling. Much like the frightened horse, she took a step back. “This feels wrong.” She whispered again, her breathing becoming haggard.
Katla frowned and turned to look again. The Sitka was indeed larger than anything she had ever seen before, but even the horse’s hooves beating against the snow didn’t even make it budge. The more she stared at the scene the more uncomfortable it made her, but she couldn’t understand why.
“Oh my God,” Althea gasped, her voice nearly on the edge of tears.
Katla stared hard at the scene before she finally saw it. The moon was bright this night, and the shadow that the Sitka cast, as large as it was, engulfed nearly twenty feet on each side. The mare’s shadow had been engulfed in the Sitka’s own. The terror Katla felt choked her when she saw the tendrils of the beast’s shadow being cast, the legs of the horse giving from an unknown force. The white furred chest of the Sitka cracked open, an inky black liquid spilling out from the cavity like thick tar.
Katla turned, grabbing the Prophet’s wrist as she raced towards the lights ahead of them. The shrill screech from the monster behind them echoed in Katla’s ears. She trembled at the sound, the fear suffocating her as both women trudged through the deep snow.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
