Wingless Illyrian

Part eight

Decades passed and her training only got more intense. As she grew, so did her opponents. The males growing into seasoned soldiers twice her size. Yet that didn't stop her from training with them all. She learned different moves that would overcome their sheer size, using the weight they threw into their punches against them.
The movements were a fluid dance on light feet, hitting the most sensitive and less protected parts of their skin. When using swords every light hit pieced their armour and drew blood. She didn't need to inflict gaping wounds to take down her opponents. only a few small in the right places.

When she wasn't in the training rings, she was helping the women of the camp with their chores. Despite Devlon allowing her to train, their conditions had not gotten any better since her arrival. Her power stopped their need to enter the surrounding lands for any plants or herbs needed for cooking. A small favour that cut down the chore time by an hour per week.
Time that she had convinced Devlon to allow the women to learn a few basics in training. The argument had been long and gruelling, and only ending when Keena had explained that the High Lord and General would likely reward him for doing so.
And while  the amount of time was not the most favourable, she awarded herself the small victory.

The days would end with her falling upon the small cot she had since childhood. Which she was beginning to outgrow.

Cassian had been travelling between the city and the camps often. Both for his title of General, and to check up on his 'little princess' who had outgrown the nickname faster than he'd care to admit. Although in the privacy of their home he continued with the name, reminding himself of a simpler time when her only words had ever been up, down, hungry and dada.
How he longed for a day where he could forget his duties and sit with her in the grass picking flowers. His brothers would tease him for such 'feminine' thoughts. But there was no crime for wanting to spent time with his daughter, especially when she rarely returned to the city.

As if his wishes were answered, a faint tapping of footsteps came towards him. The sound echoing through the townhouse. He was supposed to be working, preparing to visit the future camps for inspection. But one day. One day longer wouldn't hurt them.

"Are you going to make me walk all the way to you before standing up?" A smirk graced her lips as she threw herself into his open embrace.

"I wasn't expecting you to come home today, not that I'm not happy to see you." He added quickly.

"Males are insufferable." She huffed as she took the seat beside him, careful not to touch the wing that he had been resting over its back.

"You are too young to be thinking about them. Especially anyone in that camp," she cut him off with a playful glare.

"I'm eighty seven years old. Barely a child, father," she said teasingly. "But that isn't what I meant." 

"Who's giving you trouble? I'm sure I can knock them into line." 

"They are still against me completing the rite. Devlon would allow it if it weren't for all the other camp lords. I'm beginning to think that they're afraid of being bested by a female." Cassian rest his chin atop her head with a sign. As much as he wanted her to compete, to earn her place in his legions, the fear tugged at his insides. The danger of the rite, even for a fully grown male. Not only was the environment against them, but every other Illyrian competing to reach the top of the mountain by the end of the week. 

"Progress with the camp lords have been slow, but your presence is helping. They are just stuck in their traditional ways. Which is no excuse," he added quickly, seeing her glare. "Give it a few more decades, some are uncomfortable with the thought of sharing the tradition with someone," he paused, not wanting to upset his daughter. She was an illyrian, just not in the way of decent that they accepted, not that it would help with her being a female."

"I know. To them, I'm an outsider. Someone to steal their secrets and sell them to the enemy."

"Rhys is doing all he can without causing a war between us. We can't deal with their unrest, not if war is coming." She nodded sadly, knowing that he was right. 

"Are we certain it's coming? Killian overheard the elders saying that the threat was only against the humans."

"There would be no point in only coming to claim the human lands, not when we are on the other side of the Wall. Even if that weren't true, we would ready the armies to fight."

"Even with the Treaty forbearing us to intervene with mortal affairs?" She pulled out of his grasp, getting a better look at his expression.

"Even if the Treaty forbids it."

"I want to fight."

"Hopefully it won't come to that. I don't want you seeing that, not for a long time. And since when is Killian listening to the words of the elders, I thought Devlon had told you both to stop spying."

"He was trying to find out if we were being put in the same patrols. We're of age to begin helping."

They remained on the couch for hours, shifting the topic of conversation to something lighter than war. Keena had forgotten how much she missed her father's comfort. It was different when he was at the camp, the mask of constant indifference in place. Even behind the walls of their private cabin he refused to settle. Any sign of weakness could lose the slight hold of authority he held above the warriors. 

Mor returned hours into the day nursing a headache, a lasting gift from the late night of drinking she had done the night before after returning from the Court of Nightmares, which she had been overseeing since Rhys as thoroughly engaged in the offshore threats. The other High Lords had assembling their small armadas in the cities, as the shadows continued to tell Azriel during their reports. Something Keena had never truly understood. Sometimes they had a mind of their own, and other times he had full control over how they moved through the air. 

A.N The next chapters should be more interesting. This was just a very short and awkward way to skip time.