The Princess of Terrasen

Ch. 2

Ok, so the italics are going to be leading up to how Aiyra Whitethorn Galathynius got captured the way she did in the first chapter
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Gav" Aiyra whined "I'm bored..."
Her cousin looked over his book at her, completely unamused
"So? I can't magically prevent that can I?"
"But there's no one around to play!" She scowled, grabbing his arm and trying to pull him off his chair.
His eyes softened at that. Her mother had done her best, but her magic was unstable and other kids were afraid of being killed by her magical explosions. Even now, at only eight years old she was lethal. Even Gav was at risk, but he never seemed to care.
"Well then," he yawned, stretching and then standing up "what do you suggest we do?"
"Can you shift?" She asked innocently, already bracing herself for the 'no' she would undoubtedly receive.
Gav just rolled his eyes at her and in a bright flash of light, turned into a lion- his favourite form.
He bent down a bit and she climbed up, running her fingers through his tawny mane.
"Can I braid it?"
Gav turned his head slightly to stare at her but blinked, just once. Yes, then. They had established a code for when they were forced to sit in formal dinners with no end in sight. She slowly started braiding it as Gav lay down. He huffed to get her attention and glanced at his book, lying open on his chair. Aiyra grabbed it and placed it in front of him, turning the page whenever he signalled her to, braiding his mane all the while.
They sat like that in peace for quite some time, until her aunt came in.
Her Aunt Lysandra was where Gav had gotten his shifting abilities from, Aiyra and her had spent many a night sitting on the rooftops and talking.
"Gavriel, Aiyra, you're both late for training."
"I don't want to go" Aiyra said, not willing to get up until every strand was braided.
"I understand the sentiment, Aiyra but your father will have my head if you're not there for training"
"But then Gav's going to open all the braids!"
Her aunt fixed her son with a warning stare
"No he won't, will you Gavriel?"
There was a flash of light and Aiyra slid to the floor, landing with a slight bump. Before she could say anything, Gav reassured her that he wouldn't even think of undoing them. In human form, half of his short golden hair was braided. His Ashryver eyes were laughing as he screamed
"Race you!"
His legs were longer and he was usually much faster, but today she only lost to him by a few seconds.
Her Uncle Aedy was talking to her father in the courtyard, her mother stood to the side, watching Aiyra and Gavriel arguing about who won.
"Rowan, Aedion," she said "save this for later"
Her father turned toward her and his tattooed face broke into a smile as she launched herself at him
"Daddy,"
He hummed and she said
"I don't want to do weapons today."
He drew back from the hug and opened his mouth to say something along the lines of 'you need to train with weapons as well, you can't rely only on your magic', but she beat him to it.
"I want to see what my animal form is"
Gav had already started sparring with his father, the sounds travelling over the stones.
Her mother walked over
"It'll likely be a hawk or maybe a swan, from Mab's line."
"A swan?!"
"It's not that bad" she laughed
"Yes it is! Gav will never let me hear the end of it"
All she said was
"Think of something that calms you, focus on that and shift"
Aiyra closed her eyes, listening to the quiet song the wind sung, smelt the scents of the people she held dearest, scented that song of freedom in the whispering trees. Her magic rose, a wave against which she had no power. Nonono. Now was not the time for a magical episode. She withdrew from that power, that curse, panting.
"Your magic is necessary for the shift, darling. Use it." Her mother's turquoise eyes bore into her own, full of understanding
"But-"
Our shields are strong enough to prevent any real damage, Aiyra." Her father's mouth quirked up into a smile "we're not completely defenceless"
She nodded, she'd heard the stories. Lorcan, another one of her uncles appeared, interest sparking in his eyes. He was the only one who refused to be called 'uncle'.
Uncle Aedy and Gavriel had stopped too. All watching her, curious to see her shift. She went back to that calm, quiet place. Her magic rose again but she stood in front of that colossal, endless, powerful wave and quickly took out a handful before it could strike. She felt a surge of power and panicked. But she realised what it was.
The shift.
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Aella Astern strapped weapons all over her body.
Daggers on her thighs, two swords crossed over her back, hunting knives for close range combat on her arms, light armour covered her lithe body. She set a crown on her head.
It was to show she was the General Commander of the mightiest kingdom in the Northern continent. And to show her power, the might of her magic.
The pale gold armour showed her fire magic; the war crown, a writhing, molten silver- represented her ice. And the wind that always surrounded her and her alone sent its own message.
The blades hidden in the soles of her boots were built to flick out when she moved her ankle a particular way. It served well for beheading the very few Valg that escaped the Torre Cesme healers centuries ago.
She arranged her mouth into a cruel, lazy smirk, a wolffish glint in her eyes. She debated putting on her cloak but decided that she would prefer it not torn to shreds.
Aella Astern stormed down the halls, slowing her pace to a stalking prowl as she neared the rendezvous point. Her cadre was already there.
Jaena's mouth was set in a firm line, even as her eyes glinted in anticipation of the upcoming battle.
Waylay was equally standoffish, her muscular arms crossed over her chest, a light scowl playing about her mouth. Waylay was the only one of them who never seemed excited for battle. Where their animal bright eyes would shine with thrill, hers were hard and solemn. But no one could question her place in the cadre- not when Aella had seen her literally rip a male's limbs from his body for taking advantage of a drunk Jaena.
Kamien was already smiling. Her face was the portrait of ease, even though the tension to enter battle emanated from her frame.
Sebastian was calmest, his bloodlust expertly contained as he leant against the wall, studying Aella as she entered.
Aella herself allowed that battle calm to envelop her, allowed it to slip over her like a calming northern wind.
When her eyes opened, they were no longer simply  alert, but raging, cold and cunning, a silver beacon of light in the dark.
Jaena'a darkness swirled around them. Aella wasn't sure why her magic manifested as a dark force. As far as she knew, the dark god of death had never blessed her ancestors. Because now, their magic was passed through their parents. Aelin of the Wildfire had banished the gods, doomed them. No one was chosen to bear a god's power anymore, it passed through their ancestry now.
Some said Aella herself was a god due to her endless well of magic.
The darkness faded. They no longer stood in Deanna's palace but in a city off the coast.
Rosk.
Where an army stood to meet them.
Sebastian turned to her, a smirk playing about the corners of his mouth
It seems they got your message
Aella snorted. But they made a good choice. At least they would go down with their honour intact.
And her silver eyes held a fiery red glow at her magic built up, readying to blast the city off the face of this world.
She didn't really need much time to gather that much magic, but for once, she decided to play. She drew her hunting knives, smirking, before she joined the fray. It took her a few moments to sense the rhythm and flow of the battle, then she was simply another current in the sea. Twirling, slashing and snarling, she didn't halt for a minute. Her opponents didn't even get the chance to fight back before her knives were there, slashing across their throats.