Embers and Ashes

Bonus #1

Melona

   The first thing that hit me was the sent of fir and snow. Crisp and brittle to the bones. Every breath achingly cold as it froze my insides as the inky black pealed away to show a small settlement below where Rhysand had landed us.

   This was a bad idea. I groan to myself as I pull the fur coat closer to my tiny body.

   A masive male with wedded wings peeking over his shoulders stood only a few feet away from the two of us. His expression as stern and unyielding as the grey stone he stood on. His hazel eyes blazed so bright I thought them closer to bronze.

   “Devlon”, Rhysand grinned like a feline as he addressed the male waiting for us.

   The Illyrian bowed his head to his High Lord, but glanced me over with distain.

   “Must you always bring one of your pets when you come”, he sneers and I nearly choke on the words.

   “I beg your pardon”, I ask shocked at the rude treatment. I was used to people not liking me by know, but to be thought as Rhys pet was demeaning and did not sit right.

   “I’d watch yourself Devlon when addressing the Darling of Dawning. Daughter of the High Lord of Dawn, and your guest for as long as she pleases”, Rhysand scolds as if addressing a faeling. Even if this male was defiantly much older then both of us.

  The male looked at me again and I keep my chin up.

   “Let’s try this again”, I offer and hold out my hand to him. “Hello Lord Devlon. I am Melona, and I am happy to be spending the next few years in your camp.”

   “No you’re not”, he answers gruffly and shakes my hand. More like pulls it out of it’s socket. “Or at least you wont be happy here for long.”

   “Well aren’t you a F-ing ray of sunshine?”, I snort but laugh softly when his eyes widen at my very unladylike word use.

   “Alright you two. Let’s not kill each other on the first day”, Rhysand warned. “Devlon, the Darling will be needing a tent. Be good and acquire one.”

   “I can get my own”, I huff as I pull my hand back from Devlon’s. I did not want him to baby me here. If I was going to live here. I had to play by their rules, had to live as they did.

   Rhysand hesitated but on reading my expression he nods silently. “As you wish.”

   “What is the purpose of her staying?”, Devlon asked  Rhys and he shrugs with his hands casually in his pockets.

   “She wishes to learn Illyrian fighting techniques. I’ve decided she will be schooled here. As payment from an old deabt I have with her father that needs to be paid. He requested this, and she has agreed to it”, a half truth, but it seemed enough for the war lord. “Now I have business elsewhere I need to attend to. She is your responsibility Devlon, and I suggest you do your utmost to keep her from trouble, and make sure she is well cared for or. . . well let’s just say there will be unpleasant consequences.”

   “I don’t need babysitting”, I hiss at my brother.

   “Things are very different from your home Court here Melona. You will need Devlon’s protection for now weather you like it or not. Trust me on this”, he warns and I have to let go of some of my pride to nod. “Learn first before you make any final decisions Mel. Cassian will be here in at the end of the month to check on your progress.”

   And with that smirk he slipped into the folds of black mist as he winnowed away. Leaving me in the middle of the mountains on my own to face the cold and cruel piece of the world.

   I turn to look at Devlon who in turn looked back down at me. His eyes not giving any indication of feelings, or thought. Centuries of war and bloodshed can do that to you I suppose.

   “He didn’t give you much of a warning did he?”, I ask.

   “No”, he answers. “I only got word this morning that the High Lord was dumping a female on my doorstep.”

   “I’m sorry for the inconvenience. I will do my best not to be a burden. I plane on doing my fair share of work in the camp. I don’t want any special treatment”, I offer to him. “Is there a temple or woman’s living area for widows or unmarried?”

  “The Matka tents at the edge of the village are often looking for fresh girls to train in trades, and medicines”, he answers.

   “Perfect. That is exactly what I am looking for”, I nod firmly. “Would you kindly show me where those are? That way you can get back to your lording over your camp, and needn’t worry about me.”

    So he turned and walked away. Realizing that the movement was the answer I chase after him. Taking my time to go around patches of ice and try to keep up as I tug my coat closer.

   I was thankful for the simplicity and durability of the clothing Rhysand had help me choose. Fleece lined brown pants and thick, the pine green wool knitted sweater and also brown fur lined coat and boots strapped to my feet. I was safely secure from the harsh elements and blended in well with the civilians. Even if I was much cleaner.

    Many gave me looks as I past the tent entrances as woman sowed and corralled their young as they did the day work. Only as the evening sun started to set did the males start slipping back from their day of training.

   Any and all seemed to go out of their way to avoid their war lord as he cut clean through the crowded streets like the knives he no doubtable had hidden under his leathers. He truly was a menacing looking male. All sharp edged and unforgiving metal in every step. Judging by his three Siphons he was also quiet powerful by most standards.

   Of course not as much as Cassian, or Azriel with their seven. Still, considering that most only need one, it was impressive to see.

    The Matka tents where placed at the edges of the encampment with easy access to water, and the forest where they could gather their herbs and vegetation for tonics and salves.

    On entering the large tent we are greeted with five woman of various ages. The two oldest with their long braided cords lined with streaks of silver from maybe a millennia of living. The age a heavy weight in their eyes as their three younger females sit amongst them in study of different subjects. One with a book of herb, another with needlepoint, and another with heating a pot of oils to mix in blends.

   Each pausing to watch as their lord and a strange woman enter their workspace.

   “Lord Devlon”, the one in red addresses him.

   “Head Matka”, he nods in return.

   “What ails you?”, she asks. Wanting to get right down to the reason he was disturbing them.

   “This girl has become my charge by our High Lord’s demands. You is staying to learn our ways and was hoping to learn forms of healing and craft”, he answers as I offer a polite nod to her.

   “Is that so?”, she hums and looks me over. “Pull back your hood child. Let me look at you.”

   I do so. My long brown curls slipping past the rims of my coat and around my shoulders. Recently cut for this new start in my life. The female watched me. Examined me as did Devlon.

   “Why are you here?”, asks the Head Matka.

   “To learn to fight”, I answer plainly.

   “Why?”

   I pause in my reaction. Glancing to where Devlon watched with that unsettlingly sturdy stare. “I am coming out of a part of my life where I no longer want to be a pathetic frightened girl anymore. I will one day be responsibly for baring royalty into this world. I will be on constant guard against assassinations of not only myself, but my Faelings. I intend to fight back.”

   She presses her lips in thought.
   “You are very truthful”, she comments.

   “Why should I pretend to have come for any other reason?”

   “Not many are brave enough to share so openly their fears.”

   “I do not consider myself part of the many.”

   “Certainly you are not”, a slight bit of approval in her nod. “Why come to us.”

   “I do not want to be coddled. I want to be a part of the camp. I want to help others. I want to learn to heal as much as I learn to hurt.”

   She shares a glance with her companions. They all nod in agreement. Of one mind.

   “We will take her. She does not seek glory. She seeks to simply learn and live”, she says to Devlon who has not taken his gaze from me this whole conversation.

   “You may think her sufficient, but I still have my test”, he answers her.

   “Tests?”, I ask.

   “I do not care if you are the Mother herself come to judge us all. My time, and that of my men is precious. I will not waste it on someone who cannot handle the strain of it”, he tells me sternly. “The High Lords dog is coming in three weeks. This will be your trial period. You will strive in your studies and chores you are given to serve my people. If you cannot find your place by then, or I find fault, by then you will leave without fuss or complaint. If you do find a place and I find you tolerable, I will consider having you trained.”

   My gut turns at the idea of being turned away from my chance to overcome myself, but this was his home. His people. He had responsibilities he could not give up for my sake. I had to find my own way. Fly or Fall.

   “I agree to your terms lord Devlon”, I nod and once more we shake hands to bind the agreement.

   And so my trials began.

(Authors Note:

   Hello Dearies,

  I know this is not our regularly scheduled program, but I have been having some road block for Mel and Eris’ time line. While trying to overcome it I stumbled on some ideas for Mel’s past. So while I try to get myself back on track I thought I would do a couple bonus chapters of Mel’s time in the Illyrian camp of Windhaven.

  Maybe I will get to explore a bit more of who she is, and her relationship with her “children”. And apparently lord Devlon who will be putting up with her for a while.

  And which of us wouldn’t love to explore some of the Illyrian culture, and just spend some time with our big baby bats.

  I know this bit was short, but I hope to get into the more exciting parts next time.

Love,
Lady Thyme)