Wingless Illyrian

Part six

At the time, saying fourteen years old had seemed like a good idea, far enough away that they didn't need to worry about it but close enough that she wouldn't argue. However, now with that date only a few days away to say Cassian was stressed was an understatement. Azriel and Rhysand were better at hiding this than he was, and Keena could see that he was worried, although she didn't voice anything.

Her training with her powers had stopped to an almost halt as Cassian prepared her for the camps.

Whose dumb idea had it been to agree to taking her to the camps? That's right, his.

He'd given her a small knife and sheath for solstice, she had practically jumped on him as she strapped it to her thigh over her leggings.
Mor had tried to get her to wear a dress but to no avail as she'd changed as soon as Mor'd left the room. Azriel had gotten training leathers made to fit her small stature, and Rhys had given her a book-nothing to do with war-with a short letter to one of the camp lords stating she was to start training with the boys.

That had been months ago, now they were preparing to leave for the mountains. Rhysand had put all of their belongings into one of his magic worldly pockets. Azriel and Cassian were armed to the teeth in weapons, more than she had ever seen on a person at one time. They looked like warriors. And Rhysand. He looked like a High Lord, not the sophisticated one she'd grown used to, but one that wore a mask that promised death.

She looked at the men, trying to picture them with the flower crowns she'd continued to make them, or with the dozens of flowers she'd braided into their hair when she grew bored, or the males that had given her lessons for years but never raised their voices.

Cassian knelt in front of her, holding her hands between his.
"Are you sure you want to go?" He asked her one final time. She nodded her head determinedly.
"Kee, when we get there we have to wear a mask. We have to act all mean and scary, and we can't help you once you step in the ring, but that doesn't mean we love you any less than we do now, than we did yesterday, than we will tomorrow."

"I know, but I want to train. I want to prove myself to them." She smiled as she spoke, pulling Cassian into a hug.

"I love you, princess."

"I love you too, dad, and you two too." Rhys and Azriel each took their turns ruffling her already messy braid.

"Now look what you've done, it looks like she's been dragged through a hedge." Cassian untied the string of leather and began redoing her hair.

"Stop, it doesn't need to be perfect. I don't want to look like a little princess, they'll never take me seriously." She strapped the knife to her thigh. Cassian withdrew his hands and messed up her half-done hair.

"Are we ready to go, half the day is already gone. We don't want to be arriving in the dark." Rhysand said. Keena broke away from Cassian bouncing in her feet with excitement.

"Wait, I forgot Mr Bumble." She was halfway to the stairs went Rhysand called her back, holding the old stuffed dog in his hands.

Keena had been given the dog by Cassian when she'd first arrived in the city. He'd takes her into a dozen stores while she cried until finally they had found something that seemed to settle her.
"Thank you, I'm ready now."

Rhysand winnowed them all to the camp, with the help of Mor, who quickly winnowed back to the city, not wanting to be in the war camp any longer than was necessary.

The Illyrian camp was nothing like she'd expected, even with Cassian's warnings she'd never expected it to be so dull, like all of the colour had been drained from the world. She walked in formation behind Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian trailing. She watched from behind Rhysand as another Illyrian approached them. He was older than the males she was with, more serious-looking than she liked. He seemed less content with their arrival as his eyes landed on her.