Wylde Magic | Book 3

Twenty One: Heralds of War

Our long night didn't end in the baths. 

After Yaz was confident that our trek through the woods was thoroughly washed off of us, and I do mean thoroughly, she took us to the armory. The attendants there were just as intrusive as the ones in the bath. Poking, prodding, and measuring every inch of us for accuracy and fit. 

The armory itself was huge. It looked more like a display for a high-end shop than a place to store and prepare the tools of battle. Wooden tendrils grew from the walls, forming hooks on which shining breastplates, deadly blades, and hinged armors hung. I could see through a far doorway the red hot glow of a forge. I could feel its heat, too.

The two fae who took our measurements and scrambled around the room to collect possible pieces were quiet as they worked. It gave me a moment to catch my breath and close my eyes, feeling for the magic around me.

Slipping into that state of calm, I nearly choked on the spells in the room. I had never tried meditating here before, and it was quickly apparent that the palace was built on years and years of magic that maintained the lifestyle that Baeleon and his court kept.

"You okay?" Schula asked, her attendant helping her step out of her boots to try on a shiny silver pair of armored ones.

"Yeah," I answered. "Just, this is a lot. Heralds of war? What was that about?"

Schula shrugged. "We knew we would be going into a battle with DuVarick. If Baeleon wants us by his side for it, at least we'll have help."

"I suppose," I murmured. I was never really ready for battle. After my first taste of it the day Thain rescued me from that wraith on the mountainside I knew that I would never truly be ready for a fight. A quality the fae didn't seem to share with me, or even Spaulder for that matter. But I would square my shoulders and do what needed to be done. 

Our hair was brushed and styled in tight buns while we were fitted for war. Yaz whispered with the attendants as to what King Baeleon wanted us to look like, and Heyra just observed quietly, as had been her nature since we met. 

"There," my attendant said, stepping back from me.

Yaz looked over, scrutinizing me up and down. "Yes, that will do nicely."

I looked over to Schula as her attendant stepped back too. Shining white breastplate with matching pieces over her thighs, boots, and partially gloved hands. Her fingers were left exposed for her magic to work freely. Under the armor was brilliant scarlet silks. There was no mistaking whose side she was on, despite her icy appearance.

Looking down, I had a similar appearance, though I had less armor. I was stuffed into skirts that reached the tops of my plated boots, flowing around me and reminiscent of the scholars of the palace libraries. My arms were bare and unhindered by armors or cloths, leaving me free to cast magic and ignite my flames without risk.

Schula and I exchanged a look. We were definitely going to be a statement next to Baeleon on the battlefield.

"Here," Heyra approached us, handing us each a large roll. At some point she had changed clothes as well, trading in her traveling things for a crisp red uniform akin to the palace guards. 

I took my roll eagerly. The first bite proved to be surprising as I hit a filling of cheese and sausage.

"What now?" Schula asked as she began eating her own roll.

"Now I get changed and you go with the Captain when he arrives," Yaz said. "We've already sent word that you're ready."

I took my next two bites quickly, hoping to finish before we were dragged off to the next place.