The War of Six Crowns: The Vanished Knight

The Elves

"How do you know?" Callan asked.

The girl shrugged and helped her into a tailored, but comfortable jacket that flared out a little at the hips. It closed with hooks and eyes, with no decoration except a small silver tree embroidered over her heart. Callan rubbed her hand up and down the smooth sleeve. It was soft and supple like satin, but lacked its sheen. At the same time, it was a little coarser and had weight and thickness to it.

"We've never retreated unless it was a trap; we're the company with the fewest casualties. When people see our banner, they tremble."

Callan looked up and smiled. "Impressive."

"Yes it is." Kaela handed her a pair of glossy black boots. "I hope they fit."

Callan pulled them on, ignoring the ache in her ribs. The boots fit perfectly. She stood up and tugged the sleeves and jacket straight. Using two long black pins, Kaela fixed her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck. When she finished, she circled around Callan, scrutinizing everything.

"I was worried it wouldn't suit you. But you wear the uniform well." She handed over a damp rag. "Now you only need to clean off the scales."

Scales? Callan touched her face. The balm had turned rock solid. She started to scrub, but realized the mask melted as soon as water touched it. After a short while, Kaela confirmed her face was clean.

Callan fingered her cheek. Not even bruised. With a frown, she gingerly felt along her jaw, seeking out the cut. She couldn't find as much as a hint of a scar. Only her sensitive nose reminded her of the torture her face had experienced.

"How?" she exclaimed.

Kaela chuckled. "Secret remedy."

As if miracle cures were an everyday occurrence.

"Well, Callan," Kaela said, holding up the tent flap, "let's go eat."

Callan followed Kaela out and halted in shock. The castle was gone. As was the school. And the road leading to it. Blossoming trees grew around the lush, spring-green clearing Darrion's company was camping in. The Cumbrian hills had been replaced by dark, frowning mountains in the distance.

"Coming?" Kaela called from a queue before one of five cooking fires set up in the camp.

Callan hurried to Kaela.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Kaela drew a deep breath.

Callan took a moment to absorb more of the beauty surrounding them. Birds chirped, some in familiar voices. The cool wind rained blossoms onto the black-clad soldiers sitting on fresh grass. The sweet scent of flowers and new life cleansed her soul.

"It's incredible," she whispered, awed.

The soldier in front of them glanced at Callan and did a double take. He tapped his buddy's shoulder and pointed at her. They grinned at her with something resembling pride and stepped out of the queue for them. Soon all the soldiers in line took notice of her and stood aside.

Kaela grimaced and led Callan to the pot. The soldiers straightened to attention and hit their hands to their left shoulders in some sort of salute.

Blushing, Callan looked to Kaela, who patiently beckoned her forward.

"What is all this about?" Callan asked. Soldiers close to the line stopped what they were doing to stand at attention as well.

"Men always say women gossip. But I swear that not even the court girls can spread a rumor this fast." Kaela picked up a bowl.

Callan's shoulders sagged and she followed Kaela's example. "What rumor?"

"About the lady who fought like the Fury." Kaela pinned a pointed look on her. "They're showing you respect."