The Fifth Element

New Adventure

Hi all, so I am on my journey to get traditionally published and this is my new story, Bonds that Burn and Bind. I'm on a mission to get feedback from all you wonderful readers. My new story(which is the reason I haven't been updating anything else!) I haven't felt so passionately about something since I was 17 and wrote the first chapter of The Fifth Element. It has completely taken over all my writing time. Below is the synopsis. I will be updating it every week its called Bonds that Burn and Bind.

Description

Two hundred years ago, the Fae Prince declared a mortal woman would become his queen. All they had to do was pass his tests. But every girl who has tried has been returned in pieces to their family. Naturally, it has been some time since the prince's challenge has been willingly attempted, and 19-year-old Valentina Ashewood was not planning on ending this streak until she found herself on the wrong side of a forbidden border. Now Val must overcome three mysterious and deadly tests as she comes to terms with a dark secret from her past and her budding feelings for the Fae Prince himself. But if she fails, she'll not only lose her life but also doom an entire kingdom to a fate worse than death.

Chapter 1

I always carried at least one weapon when I entered the forest. Today I brought two. The extra weapon couldn't prevent my fate if I were to cross into Fae land —the border of which I would be treading close to today. But the weight of the dagger sheathed against my hip eased some tension coiling in my spine.

In the early morning light, the forest wore a mask of beauty and serenity, the opposite of the utter brutality I'd witnessed within its confines on countless occasions. However, I'd seen equal amounts of brutality outside of them, but of a different kind, and had, on occasion, been the source of the unforgivable.

My fingers drifted over the rough bark of a grand oak as I passed it. An empty wicker basket hung from the crook of my arm, quiver and bow slung over my shoulder. Sunlight flitted between the leaves and the branches, dabbling the ground with golden light.

In the distance, a wall of ever-present blue mist appeared, which ran along a thin strip of land, less than a quarter mile wide, that stood between Fae and mortal lands.  No-Land, they called it—since it belonged to no one.

I took out my ball of red yarn from the pocket of my trousers and tied one end to a low-hanging branch, while I noted a cord of fraying twine knotted to a nearby tree.

Steeling myself against the unknown, I stepped through the misty wall. A wave of magic washed over me, making my skin tingle and rooting me to the spot as it determined if I was a suitable candidate for the prince's challenge. Only those of the female persuasion and in their prime would be allowed to continue. I loosed a breath when it slackened its grip and allowed me to leave the bright forest behind.

Two hundred years ago, the Fae Prince declared a mortal woman would become his queen. All she had to do was cross No-Land into Fae land, then pass his tests. But every girl that set foot onto his lands —or what remained of them arrived at their families' doorsteps days later wrapped in a funeral shroud.

Naturally, it had been quite some time since the prince's challenge had been attempted, and I wasn't planning on ending that streak.

I unwound the yarn, dropping it behind me while my eyes searched the ground. Rare magical plants thrived here - fed by whatever created the swirling blue mist that smudged out everything more than a few feet ahead, dissipating slightly as it swirled into the forest canopy. No animals, magical or none, called this place home—kept out by whatever magic had let me in.  And only  the wind sang in this place.

I spied a mushroom, whose top looked to be encrusted in rubies, and snatched it up. Its name and properties came naturally to me as I slipped it into my basket.

Efa's Ruby— can be used to keep a hearth burning for several days without firewood. Useful, but not highly sought after. This would most likely earn me two silver thorns. I had gathered the pricing of most magical plants by wandering up and down Witch's Row.
"Great, 36 more of these, and I'll have enough," I muttered.

Per my family's tradition, I was required to obtain a golden rose coin the night before my wedding. It did not matter how I obtained it, just as long as it was through my own means and not through selling something I already possessed. It was a rite of passage for the women to prove we were clever, strong, or brutal enough to care for ourselves. The tradition dated back to a time I would have needed all three to survive—when my family was little more than thieves and mercenaries instead of lords and ladies. So, if I failed, I would not be allowed to marry, and I planned to become Lord Frederick Ainsworth's wife tomorrow.

Frederick was kind. He was steady, and his family owned lands farther than the eye could see. Fredrick would treat me well, and we would have a good life together. He wasn't the one I thought about when I slipped my hand between my legs at night, but the one who haunted my fantasies—I could not have. And I shouldn't want, at least, that's what I repeated to myself until it sounded true.

Two additional Efa's Rubies joined my collection, and I wandered around some more—finding only a pathetic excuse for wren's tail when another peculiar work of nature caught my attention. Blooming within the center of a dead tree that looked to have been cleaved in half by a giant's sword, sprouted a flower with multiple colored petals that shone like the panels of a stained glass window.

Joy and victory coaxed a smile to my lips. Finally, something of value. Something worth taking the risk of entering No-Land. The only problem...
I approached the tree, unhooking my cloak from my chin as I did. I tucked the white tunic that I had borrowed from one of my brothers into my elk skin pants, so it did not hinder me as I sized up the six or more yards I would have to scale. This was probably why another gatherer had not claimed the Witch's-Glass. None were probably as foolish as me to scale this height and risk snapping their necks in the process.

Witch's-Glass— can be used to heal wounds that would normally maim or kill. It would fetch me at least 30 silver thorns.
I examined the wood for any handholds I could use, but its surface was slippery and smooth, like a skinned squirrel. I would have to create my own.

Setting down my basket, I removed my bow and quiver and left them at the base of the tree. I plucked one arrow and unsheathed the dagger at my side. I dug its point into the wood, then the head of the arrow, bracing my legs around the trunk and alternating which one I yanked out and which I replaced. Inch by inch, I shimmied my way upward.

Sweat soaked my brow by the time I arrived at my destination and plucked my spoils. Clamping the delicate stem gently between my teeth, I proceeded with the same technique in reverse until I was close enough to the ground to let go and land on the mossy forest floor. I replaced the arrow and held up the flower, admiring its beauty in the dim light.

Maybe that's why I didn't hear her until steel bit into my neck, and a girl's voice, more venomous than a basilisk's bite, whispered.

"You're in my claim, girl."