FALLEN | rowan whitethorn x oc

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR - i may have accidentally killed someone, sorry not sorry

The earth had not been pavemented, and her books -along with the everyone else's- was now dirty with the soil of a land of magic. Every strong building was made of either stones or bricks, some were a mix of both; tents were scattered not very far away from what Isabella could recognize as a lake, and around an outdoor fireplace. Balls of fire were magically turned on, one by one, appearing out of thin air and remaining floating in place until the whole city was lighted up, as Isabella and the others finally came to a stop.

She squinted at one of the balls of fire as it seemed to have waved at her. She instantly rubbed her eyes, her gaze fixed on the light.

Rowan gently bumped his shoulder with hers, catching her attention. She looked up at him, and found the tiniest of grins on his lips. He gestured with his head in the direction of the fireballs. "Fire sprites, some of the oldest of the Fae Folk,"

"The Fae Folk," She repeated, dumbly as her memory reminded her of Gavriel's tale told not long ago around the ashes of a dead fire. A tale about the origin of all creatures, and the first spiritual beings to ever exist, those that were older and closer to the gods than any living soul in their world, known as the Fae Folk.

He frowned playfully down at her, "They don't like us very much, but they are incredibly nosy, so every night they light our camp and keep company to the poor souls stationed here"

She feigned to look around, "It does not seem so bad,"

He looked away, "Just wait," He murmured, his tone suddenly sombre.

His words seemed to be a prophecy for doom, for as soon as they left his mouth, Isabella noticed the figures standing in front of them. Three of them were males, almost as tall and wide as Lorcan or Rowan. Behind them, a small group of spectators had formed, and were now studying them with interest. She could feel their keen eyes on her. Instinctively, she took an imperceptible step back until the side of her body was in contact with Rowan's, the warmth emanating from his body brought her a certain type of calmness.

One of the three males, a brunette with dark brown skin that glistened in one of the most beautiful ways due to the reflection of the fire against it. His golden eyes twinkled as his gaze travelled along everyone in her group, and then fell on her.

"The Lion, the Wolf, Commander Salvaterre, Your Royal Highness," He nodded at them, the only sign of respect to their titles. "And..." She noticed the movement of his nose, and realised he had sniffed the air. "A human," He finished, and based on his tone and the way his eyes focused on her companions, he had no interest in her. Thankfully.

"Orion, it's good to see you," It was Gavriel who spoke, his voice coated in feigned cheerfulness yet serious as he could not fully pretend.

The male, Orion, merely grunted in response. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your unannounced presence?" He asked, instead, flatly.

"We have come here with the intention of rest, and to help with the training of some of the soldiers residing here,"

One of the other males, a blonde with a scar running down one side of his pale face, fisted one of his hands while the other remained in the hilt of his sword seethed at his hip. He wore the same uniform as the rest of the Fae around him, the same clothes Isabella had seen her friends wear when she first met them before they ventured on their own, with the only difference being a golden jacket with blue embroidery. The colours of Doranelle.

"Our troops needn't of your services, they are already the best of the best," He said through clenched teeth.

Lorcan snorted at the male's words. "I bet that's why you lost a dozen of them in the last interaction"