Sutherlands
The sharp ends of the dead grass scratched my skin, but at least I was alone. Until someone called my name. I sat up to see a burly man march towards me, decked in metal armor. His red beard gave him a frown, and his thick eyebrows arched angrily.
I smiled at him. "Hey Bjarke."
"Rolling around in the dirt again?"
I grunted as I sat up. "Better than being around my father."
His shoulders sagged. "Ah, well, in that case, I have bad news for you."
"He wants to see me doesn't he?"
Bjarke nodded.
I looked at the castle on the other side of the hill, its black bricks matching the bleakness of the surrounding land well. It was my home, yet I tried to spend every waking moment of my life away from it.
The inside of the castle was even more depressing. Sure, there was a significant lack of sunlight, but that didn't compare to the death glares I collected. Cooks, cleaners, and guards alike parted for me like I had the plague, whispering obscenities in my direction, and sometimes even trying to trip me. Luckily, I've grown up with it long enough to know how to avoid it.
I knocked on my father's door, and his gruff voice ordered me to come in. He didn't look up at me as he stuffed clothes into a bag. "Start packing."
"For what?"
"I've decided it's time for you to get field experience. You're coming with."
My heart plummeted. "But this trip's three years long!"
"I'm aware."
"Can I refuse?"
His eyes hardened. I wished I could take my words back.
"Bold of you to think you're in any position to bargain." He stepped closer to me, forcing me to look away. "I'm doing this for you. You can stay here and be a scapegoat, or you can prove yourself to the Warriors."
I laughed. "I've worked my butt off trying to prove myself to them. It won't work."
He shook his head. "They may not like you, but they'll accept you. By the time we get back, you'll be a Crow."
That was the last thing I wanted.
Three days of rolling across the sea brought us to the island of Sølvefalske. Seeing it for the first time filled me with awe. My dad never told me how beautiful the sharp mountains and thick green forest were. For a moment, I forgot to be sad about being away from home, but then I remembered the purpose of this mission wasn't to explore the land.
We hiked a few miles into the woods until we found a good spot to camp. I was helping Bjarke with his tent when I overheard my father talking to one of his Warriors.
"If Wolves get close, head northeast for two miles. There's another camp. But it shouldn't happen. I'll be back before midnight."
Peeking over my shoulder, I noticed he was dressed in armor but carrying no weapons. He always carried a form of protection, so it was suspicious when he climbed onto a horse and galloped into the woods, alone.
I wanted to figure out what he was doing, plus this was a great opportunity to explore. The first chance I got, I snuck into the pitch black night, following the scent of my father's horse.
I walked for about an hour before spotting him, standing in a clearing with another man on horseback.
"Have a nice trip, Albin?" my father said.
The other man silently glared at him. I recognized the name right away: Albin McNeil, King of Sølvefalske, also known as the number 1 enemy of the Sutherlands.
My father chuckled. "Not talkative tonight."
"She's here," Albin said, sharply. "What must I do now?"
My father shrugged. "Act casual. I'll be sending in some of my men undercover. They'll handle it from here."
"When will it happen?"
"We should let the rumors about her stretch for a while. Since I'm a generous man, I'll give it a few years to divert suspicion from you."
"And… you swear to keep your oath?"
My father reached into his jacket and pulled out a small bottle. My nose caught the tangy, electrical smell of magic
"We both will," he said.
Albin extended a shaky arm to my father, who grabbed his hand and pushed his sleeve away to reveal his skin.
"Remember," my father said. "This potion will bind you. Break it, you drop dead. This is your last chance to walk away."
Albin shook his head. "There's nowhere else to go."
My father grinned. "I never thought you were smart, but you have good survival instincts."
He poured black liquid onto Albin's arm, who winced as it burned through his skin. I couldn't see well from where I was, but I knew it left a mark in the shape of a crow's head within a ring.
"And thus marks the beginning of a new era," my father said, putting the empty bottle into his jacket pocket. "900 years of bloodshed soon to be behind us. You will not regret this decision."
Albin touched the tender spot on his arm as he rode away.
"That was a stupid move on your part, boy," my father said after the King left.
I knew he was talking to me by the sharpness of his tone, so I stepped into the open. "Maybe if you told me what was going on, I would've stayed at camp."
"I was going to explain it all to you later."
I rolled my eyes. Of course he would've.
"Get up here," he said, extending his arm to help me climb into the saddle behind him. "I have just initiated the first part of our plan."
"Blackmailing the King?" I asked. "You could've just killed him."
"The only thing it would do is stain the grass. If Albin dies, the Queen takes over. We don't need the Royals dead, we need them to surrender."
"So you're forcing Albin to surrender with the Binding potion?"
Father scoffs. "Of course not! If Albin surrenders out of the blue, the people will be suspicious, maybe even rebel. If we want to end the fighting, we have to crush any hope the island has of victory."
"So, what was the potion for?"
He smirked. "To make sure the dear old King hands over the key to the Runestones."