Dawn of Mist

by Helen Scheuerer

  At last, morning was upon them and the first gong sounded. Henri dressed in her training leathers quickly and rebraided her midnight hair down one side, as was Valian custom. Sahara was watching her, her expression unreadable. Reluctantly, she swung down from her bed and readied herself in silence.

  The quiet hung between them as they headed down to the main keep on the forest floor, where a crowd of Valians had already gathered. The sisters stood towards the front, as was tradition for the daughters of the reigning queen, but Allehra flashed them a glare.

  ‘If you’re not early, you’re late’ was one of her favoured sayings. Expectations were high for the Valian heir and her first-in-command.

  Now, Allehra turned to the crowd. Dozens of kindred-in-training and their mothers and mentors waited eagerly for her address, their faces etched with awe and admiration.

  ‘My kindred,’ Allehra said, clasping her hands together. ‘Welcome to one of the most important days in our year – the trials. The series of tests our trainees are about to embark upon has a rich history of honing the most powerful warriors in this realm, and eliminating those who are not worthy. Today, our candidates will partake in three rounds: weapons, hand-to-hand combat, and of course, the Crossing.’

  Allehra scanned the faces of the kindred-in-training before her. ‘To our trainees, I say this: do not hold back. Do not compromise. Demonstrate your strength at its fullest. This is your chance to show us your dedication to the Valian Way. A life in the Sticks awaits those who do not have what it takes. The first round begins in thirty minutes in Circuit One.’

  At her final words, the crowd surged. There was a massive push to leave the keep and get to the circuit.

  ‘Ready, girls?’ Petra grinned, grasping Henri’s shoulder.

  ‘Henri was born ready,’ Tilly quipped.

  The twins followed the rest of the trainees through the forest. Excitement buzzed through Henri. None of the others were showcasing their skills with katars, so she knew she already had an edge.

  She was going over her drills in her mind as they reached Circuit One. It was a small clearing in the forest, with a raised platform at one end. Allehra and her two best elite kindred made their way there and sat down, looking out onto the circuit.

  ‘Names will be drawn at random,’ Allehra said, reaching into a leather pouch. She selected two torn pieces of parchment. ‘Tilly and Rayner. You’re first.’

  Tilly palmed her fighting knives and grinned as Rayner entered the circuit, drawing her sword.

  Allehra’s voice was soft as she said: ‘Begin.’

  The sharp scrape of metal sounded as blade met blade. But immediately, Henri saw that Tilly was simply indulging Rayner. Tilly’s movements were effortless and Henri’s chest swelled with pride as her friend whirled her knives and blocked Rayner’s incoming swings. Even with Tilly’s additional dramatic flourishes, the round was over before it began, with Tilly disarming her opponent, the edge of her blade to Rayner’s throat. Allehra gave a single nod, signalling the victory, and both trainees bowed low to their queen before shaking hands and exiting the circuit.

  ‘You think she’ll be sent to the Sticks?’ Petra asked from behind Henri.

  Henri shook her head. ‘She won’t make the elite, though.’

  ‘You’re right about that.’

  Henri watched the next round impatiently. Two trainees sparred with spears. It was a fair fight; the two were evenly matched. Henri winced as one girl took a blow to the side of the head and stumbled. She’d left herself open to that – a beginner’s mistake. She should have known better. And sure enough, her opponent took advantage of her dizziness to deliver the winning strike.

  Henri and Sahara watched round after round. Every time Allehra’s hand disappeared into the bag, Henri held her breath. Waiting for her turn – and Sahara’s – was agony. Though, looking around at the trainees who were left, Henri couldn’t help but feel confident.

  Marvel’s name was called, and she bested her competition in mere moments. One of Allehra’s elites actually applauded as Marvel helped her opponent up.

  ‘Athene. Petra,’ Allehra’s voice called.

  Henri’s breath caught. She’d been so concerned with herself and Sahara, she’d forgotten to worry about Athene. Not that she needed to worry. Athene was one of the best in their group. But so was Petra …

  Swords clashed and Petra’s warrior cry sounded. Henri couldn’t tear her eyes away as the two girls struck and parried in a blur of steel. Their fight was a class above the rest. It was silent but for the clang of blades and the scuff of boots in dirt. Athene advanced, hammering Petra with blow after blow, but Petra met every one with a sturdy block and an answering strike. They covered the ground of the entire circuit, forcing one another back and forth before Allehra and her elites.

  ‘They’re evenly matched,’ Sahara muttered to Henri. ‘This will go on forever.’

  ‘Someone is always the stronger warrior,’ Henri replied, still not taking her eyes from Athene.

  ‘Depends on your definition of strong, Henri.’

  ‘What —?’

  But Petra feinted right, and in her arrogance, Athene fell for it. With a precise kick, Petra swept Athene’s legs out from beneath her and held her sword at Athene’s throat.

  The entire crowd burst into applause. Smiling widely, Petra helped Athene to her feet and the girls embraced with a laugh. They knew it didn’t matter who had claimed victory; both had proven themselves worthy Valian kindred.

  Henri clapped along with the rest of them, still not sure whom she’d expected to emerge victorious from that round …

  ‘Sahara and Henrietta.’

  The applause died and the crowd fell silent.

  Henri’s gaze shot to Sahara’s, but her twin merely shrugged and entered the circuit. She turned and waited. Henri’s heart was suddenly pounding. This was not how it was supposed to go —

  ‘Henrietta.’ Allehra’s voice was cold and stern.

  There was nothing for it. Henri unsheathed her katars as she stepped into the clearing to face her sister.

  Sahara unsheathed her sword.

  ‘Begin,’ their mother commanded.

  Sahara lunged. Henri was taken by surprise at the venom in her sister’s attack, but she blocked the blow easily, her training kicking in immediately. She moved like water, sidestepping and dodging Sahara’s strikes with little effort. And yet, something was stopping her from advancing herself. It didn’t feel right. As much as she longed to impress her mother, their queen … She was sparring with her own future ruler.

  She blocked another blow, the impact of Sahara’s blade against the sharp edge of her katar reverberating up her arm.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Sahara hissed in her ear as she swung again. ‘Fight me.’

  ‘I …’ From the corner of Henri’s eye, she could see their mother’s unreadable expression, but her hands gripped the sides of her chair so hard her knuckles had gone bone-white.

  ‘Henri,’ Sahara hissed again, delivering a kick to the back of her legs, sending her stumbling. Finding her footing, Henri nodded and faced her sister. This had to be done the Valian Way. The only way. She palmed her katars and advanced.

  Relief seemed to flood Sahara’s eyes, but Henri ignored it. She drove forward, holding nothing back. Sister or not, heir or not, the Valian Way meant strength against strength.

  Henri’s katars were a mere extension of herself and she relished every impact, every blow. The thrill of the fight coursed through her. But as Henri saw an opening to disarm Sahara, she realised something. Her twin was lagging, in a way that she usually didn’t. Surely she wasn’t tired already?

  Henri spun on her heel and leaped forward, coming at Sahara with not one but two precise strikes. Her sister fell, and Henri had her.

  A smattering of applause sounded, but it was clear the Valians didn’t know how loud to cheer for the trainee who’d defeated their heir. Sahara accepted Henri’s hand up with a brief smile and they too
k their places back in the crowd.

  ‘What was that about?’ Henri muttered to her.

  Sahara scowled at her and said nothing.

  Henri turned back to the circuit. Allehra’s eyes were like a brand on her.

  No one was banished to the Sticks after the weapons round, which Henri found unusual. More often than not, a handful of trainees were sent away with each passing trial. Perhaps they had a stronger cohort this year. She didn’t question it. There was no doubt that the next tests would divide them, though she was quietly confident in her own unit. She, Sahara, Tilly, Marvel, Athene and Petra had been training together forever.

  Without a break, they made their way to the living bridges, where the next trial would take place: hand-to-hand combat while facing the towering heights of the canopies. Henri grit her teeth. Hand-to-hand combat always yielded more injuries than the other trials. The year before, she’d watched one girl get her nose shattered. There was a brutality to using bare fists, something animalistic that had her wringing her hands as she waited for her turn.

  The rounds began all along the living bridges, pair after pair brawling before the fully fledged kindred and Allehra’s elite. There were shouts of pain, and thuds and screams as girls hit branches on their fall to the forest floor.

  Henri watched the organised chaos in awe. This was how Valia raised the most efficient warriors in the realm. Discipline. Pain. Endurance. These were her people. The girls who got through the trials today would be the women who became her fellow kindred, the elite who would watch her sister’s back when she was queen.

  Taking a measured breath, Henri took in the sight of the greenery above, golden beams of sunlight breaking through the leaves and branches. Again, she relished the whisper of magic against her skin. She wasn’t allowed to use her powers in the trials – Allehra had made that abundantly clear. Like I’d need them, Henri thought.

  ‘Henrietta,’ Allehra’s voice now called. ‘You’re with Priya.’

  Henri felt a stab of pity for her opponent as she stepped out onto the living bridge. Priya paled at the very sight of her. Henri had seen the girl in passing, had seen her train every now and then over the years. She knew in her heart that this trial would send her to the Sticks if Henri fought in her usual style. But perhaps … perhaps she could make it look like —

  ‘Do not hold back. Do not compromise. Demonstrate your strength at its fullest.’ Allehra’s words rang in Henri’s ears.

  She locked eyes with Priya, took a deep breath and mouthed: I’m sorry.

  It was late afternoon when Henri and the others began the trek to the Crossing. Henri’s body was still singing with the adrenaline from the fight, her knuckles grazed and stinging. She said nothing of Priya, who, lip bloodied and quivering, had been forced to hand over her training leathers in exchange for a simple cotton tunic and pants. Athene’s opponent had been sent to the Sticks as well. But they didn’t speak of it.

  Allehra had announced that eight trainees hadn’t passed the trial. Eight. But the Valian queen said no more than that. There had always been a silent agreement among the kindred that no further shame should be brought to those who failed by discussing their shortcomings.

  Sahara had won her trial, as had the rest of their unit. Their family was intact. As they wove through the canopies that stretched north, up into the Hawthorne Ranges, Henri pretended that it was just the six of them. She imagined they were on sentry duty or border patrol. All her life she’d waited for these trials, and now they were here … she wasn’t sure they were what she had expected.

  ‘Nearly there.’ Athene appeared beside her. Her braid had come loose; fiery red tendrils framed her face, and Henri had to stop herself from reaching out and tucking them behind her friend’s ears.

  ‘Nearly there,’ she said instead.

  It was a long trek, and Henri couldn’t help glancing at Sahara, whom she knew would be growing increasingly nervous as the falls drew nearer. How her sister had obtained a fear of heights living in Valia Forest was beyond Henri. But Sahara would be fine. She always was.

  Henri heard the falls before they came into view – the thunderous roar of thousands of gallons of water pummelling down into the King’s River below. The sight of the Crossing itself always took Henri’s breath away. A deadly abyss between two ends of the living bridges; a death sentence to anyone who fell. The sheer force of the falls thrilled Henri. Ancient magic coursed through the water, magic that called out to her and her alone.

  Allehra took up a vine and, without a word, launched herself across the chasm. Her swing was graceful and confident; she sailed across without effort, landing deftly on the other side. She waited.

  It was a race to see who could follow their queen first. Henri hung back with her unit and Sahara, who was noticeably paler. It was tradition for the heir to complete the Crossing last.

  ‘You’ll be fine,’ she whispered to her sister, squeezing her arm, but careful not to draw attention towards them.

  ‘Of course I’ll be fine,’ Sahara snapped.

  Henri frowned. What’s wrong with her? She didn’t offer further comfort or reassurance. Instead, she watched their peers hurtle themselves across the void.

  The first few made it, though not as gracefully as Allehra. The fourth girl, however, faltered as she leaped from the bridge and failed to gain enough momentum. Her vine didn’t reach far enough across the other side, so she swung like a weak pendulum in the middle. She began to scream.

  ‘Gods,’ Petra managed, staring out at the poor girl. ‘They can’t just leave her —’

  They didn’t. Allehra herself swung across to the trainee and used her own magic to propel them to the other side.

  ‘Another one for the Sticks,’ Marvel said, chewing her bottom lip.

  From afar, they watched their peer strip down and hand over her training leathers.

  Four more followed in her wake.

  The line had grown short, and soon, it was just Henri’s unit left. Marvel went first with an exceptional swing, then Tilly, then Petra, who let out her now infamous warrior cry as she soared through the air.

  Henri watched as one of Allehra’s elite pressed a new vine into Athene’s hand.

  Her friend winked. ‘See you on the other side.’

  Before Henri could answer, the red braid had whipped away and Athene was sailing across the falls.

  Henri swallowed. It was finally her turn. She stopped herself from looking back at Sahara, and focused on the distance across the spray of water ahead. She’d done this countless times before. She loved the thrill of it. This moment was hers.

  She accepted the vine and launched herself across the void.

  Her swing was perfect. Henri knew it as the water misted her face and Allehra and the others came into sight. She landed soundlessly on her feet, where Athene and Tilly grinned and clapped her on the back. She’d won every round. A place aboard the ship to Havennesse was hers.

  Now, there was one more to go. Henri could just make out Sahara on the other side, the vine in her hand. She started her run-up. Full of grace, Sahara soared towards them – the epitome of the Valian Way, one hand even skimming the falls as she glided past. She was incredible —

  But something was wrong. Henri felt it in her bones and in her magic.

  Sahara locked eyes with her for a split second, and Henri’s heart stopped. She saw Sahara’s grip slip —

  No —

  Henri threw her magic outwards. It shot towards her twin with an intensity Henri had never experienced before. It was as though it channelled her ancestors’ magic, held in the bridge upon which she stood. She sent it flying towards her sister, her future queen. Her power wrapped around Sahara and the vine she held, keeping the momentum of her swing going. Henri made sure her own movements were subtle, hopefully undetectable, as her magic brought her sister sailing towards them.

  Sahara quickly masked the confusion on her face as she dropped gracefully onto the ground before Henri. There was a cheer fro
m the other trainees.

  Allehra narrowed her eyes at her heir, and then her gaze slid to Henri.

  She knows.

  Henri held her breath. She’d broken the rules of the trials. It was an offence punishable by banishment, or worse. She could feel Allehra’s magic simmering with fury, but the Valian queen said nothing. Instead, she turned to the cohort of trainees.

  ‘Congratulations,’ she told them, her voice projecting to the far reaches of the bridges. ‘You have survived the trials. Which means you are now officially kindred of this forest.’

  Rowdy applause sounded. Beside Henri, Tilly put her fingers between her teeth and whistled loudly.

  ‘After the feast this evening, you will be presented with your leathers,’ Allehra continued. ‘These signify your entry into the most powerful army of warriors this realm has to offer. You will wear them with pride.’

  Athene elbowed Henri in the ribs. This was what they’d been training their whole lives for. Almost.

  ‘What of the journey to Havennesse?’ Henri called out.

  Allehra’s cold eyes met hers. ‘Those chosen will be notified tonight.’

  Henri and Sahara accepted their official kindred leathers before all the citizens of Valia. Cheers echoed through the forest. There was no greater sight than the heir and her first-in-command taking their rightful places among the kindred, and among those travelling to Havennesse for additional training.

  Henri’s gaze slid to Sahara. She needed to talk to her twin about what had happened at the falls. But there was no time.

  Henri, Sahara, Marvel, Tilly, Petra and Athene had all made the cut for the upcoming journey. A thrill of excitement shot through Henri, leaving her thoughts of the Crossing behind. She turned to Sahara. ‘We’ll get to see Eydis,’ she said.

  Sahara smiled widely. ‘And her dogs.’

  Eydis was their childhood friend, as well as the crown princess of Havennesse. It had been two years since they’d seen her last and Henri missed her. Eydis was a strange girl. She towered above the Valian twins, but often hid her lanky frame with enormous men’s clothes. Sahara and Henri usually joked that the winter princess preferred the company of her hounds to that of people, but whenever the three of them were together, their laughter echoed through the halls of Wildenhaven.