11 Chapter X, Harsh Realizations

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Ugh. It's not even light out.

Knock. Knock. Knock

What time is it?

"Princess Alexandra Wren Gryffiths! Get your lazy arse out of bed!"

Arna?

The door opened and the blankets were violently wrenched off me.

"Arna?" I asked blearily.

"Of course it's me! Who else would be assigned the task of taking you to see Quinlin for training?"

I scowled and rubbed my eyes, not even used to the dim blue glow of the shifter's lantern. "I don't know, Dawn perhaps?"

Arna frowned as she grabbed my wrist - still sore from Arius' iron grip - and dragged me from my warm bed. "Dawnelle isn't awake yet. It's five in the morning."

"What?!" Suddenly I didn't feel half as tired, just writhing anger towards the shifter. "Do you mind explaining why you have awakened me after only four hours of sleep?"

"No." She said curtly. "I can only tell you that you are to meet up with Valora for some armor and new weaponry." She glanced at my sword that was lying against the wall. "I'm afraid that pointy stick just won't do."

In an hour, I was dressed in a black leather breastplate, a new sword at my waist, a bow and quiver on my back, and braided hair down my spine. I felt ready for anything. Mostly sleep. I'm still tired.

"So," I yawned. "What now?"

Arna shrugged. "We go-" she waved to a passing elf. "Hey, Emerys!"

The elf waved back and continued walking.

"Stars…" Valora rubbed her temple. "He must be what? Seventy?"

I turned my head to get a better look at the elf who had passed us. He looked no more than twenty-seven…

"Yeah." Arna agreed. "He turned seventy-three last week."

"What?" I stuttered, stopping in my tracks.

"Oh, yeah." Valora snorted. "You do know we're all technically immortal, right?"

"Umm…yeah." I lied. "So how old are you guys then?"

Valora snickered, and Arna elbowed her side. "I'm twenty-two, Alphyn and Leonora are twenty-"

"Quin' is twenty-two, Roan is eighteen, and I am seventeen!" Valora counted off quickly.

"Rhys is twenty-four," added Arna quietly. "Though he's not part of the cadre." she said hastily. She shifted uncomfortably under my scrutinizing gaze, her purple eyes turning a soft brown.

I ignored the shifting. "So…if you're in the great elven cadre, why are you guys so…?"

"Young?" Valora suggested. "Carefree? Innocent? Well, princess, we are what, the fifty-somethingth cadre?"

Arna inclined her head, affirming the statement.

"If we all die, the next one will be chosen over the course of seven years."

"How long have all of you been in the cadre then?" I asked.

Arna thought for a minute. "Quinlin was the first, six years ago. Then me, Alphyn, Roan, Leonora, and Valora."

"I see…There's one missing, right?"

���Hmmm?" Arna's eyebrows slanted. "What do you mean?" she asked sharply.

I bit my tongue, sure I had said the wrong thing. "Well…Val said over seven years, and there are six of you. Who's missing? Did someone die or…?"

Valora looked uncomfortable, though not as extreme as Arna, who was shaking slightly, pale-faced. "Before Valora impressed Avis enough to be let into the cadre, Rhys was the seventh member," Arna muttered, shivering despite the warm breeze. "He went on a mission for Alberic a few months ago and came back…different. Your father took Rhys straight to his office and hired him as head assassin, giving him the position right above mine. Upon his removal from the cadre, the position was left vacant, leaving the spot open for a new seventh member."

Then, in a small voice, she added, "There was also Za-"

Arna glared at her. "No. We are forbidden to speak of that."

My eyes got bright, ignoring the dark turn of conversation. "Can I join?"

Valora sighed, turning back to me. "We deliberately didn't tell you about the open spot just in case you were actually going to consider joining. Being in the cadre takes years and years of training, and you're never gonna beat Octavia."

Octavia…Where have I heard that name before…

"Come on." Arna's face seemed to have resumed its original state, if not a bit pale in the morning light. "Let's focus on beating Quinlin with a sword before you start going on about rising to the top of the arena."

Arna and Valora bid me farewell at Quinlin's office, where the leader of the cadre was talking with Rhys.

I looked at Rhys differently, what could've happened to this young elf to make my father hire him as his personal assassin? What gave him that scar down his face? What did he do to deserve that?

Rhys smiled as I walked up, the scar making his grin lopsided. "Princess! Just the woman we needed to see!"

I walked over nervously, my feet dragging in the grass a bit.

Quinlin looked me over. "You got a sword? And a bow?! Good. Follow me."

I followed Quinlin through the valley to a small training field. Despite the early hour, around two dozen elves were sparring in the vintincy, the clashing of swords and the whistling of arrows filled the valley.

Quinlin and Rhys walked to the edge of the field, the other elves clearing a path for them. Rhys moved to the side as Quinlin drew his sword and struck up a defensive position. "Let's see what you remember, shall we?"

I assumed the same position as Quinlin, Sword out, knees slightly bent-

"Your right foot is too far forwards, and if you hold your sword like that, you'll break your thumb on the first impact."

Rhys snorted as I readjusted my stance, rolling his eyes.

Without warning, Quinlin struck at my left, which I parried clumsily, receiving a mark that would inevitably bruise later. I retaliated with a sharp blow to his legs, which he avoided with ease.

Only a minute later, he had me pinned to the ground at swordpoint, my blade lay forgotten a meter away.

"Victory." he gloated with obvious notes of pride.

Rhys walked over from the side and picked up my sword, twirling it in hand. "One for Greyblade, zero for the princess."

I glared at Rhys, then turned to face Quinlin; who was giving me the same look I was giving the other elf.

"What?!" I asked, surprised.

Quinlin rolled his eyes. "You barely tried. You were a better fighter back in Thaelin than you are now."

I shrugged and rubbed my eyes. "Sorry, I'm just tired. I don't appreciate being woken up by a shapeshifter in the early hours of the morning after partying until midnight."

He gave me a disapproving look. "I was up later than you were, and you don't see me moping around like a drunken fool. You need to master yourself, Alexandra."

I snatched my sword from Rhys. "Thanks, but I've had enough inspirational sayings for one morning."

"Again!" Quinlin barked, twirling his sword so it was nothing but a grey blur.

We sparred for quite some time, every time I struck at the elf, he blocked my blade and dodged my blows. Naught but once did I manage to maim Quinlin in any way, a small scratch on the left hand; the one he fought with.

Quinlin. Always. Won.

"Victory yet again!" He chided, haven beaten me for the seventeenth time in a row.

Sweat rolled down my face as I got up, vision blurry and mouth filled with blood. My head was sore from where I had fallen to the ground several times.

Quinlin brushed off a speck of dirt from his tunic, his electric blue eyes like fire. "Three, two, one-"

"Quin, stop." Rhys strode over from the sidelines from which he was watching. "If you keep at it like this, she's gonna faint." he reasoned calmly.

I glanced gratefully at Rhys, to which he smiled grimly

Quinlin sheathed his sword. "Fine, meet me here tomorrow, same time."

I spat the blood from my mouth and glared at the elf in front of me. "Just one question. Do you always beat women until they're on the ground, sword tossed aside like moldy sock? Or is it just your princesses that you treat as such?" I turned back around, not waiting for an answer.

He grabbed my arm and scowled. "I'll treat you however I wish. As of right now, you have done nothing to earn my respect."

I jerked my arm from his grip and stormed away.

I walked through the valley until I had regained my calm composure, but something kept nagging at me. Though I felt confident that I hadn't severely damaged my pride, I knew it in my gut that he had let me go.

"Good morning, Master Aenhrys!"

I said cheerfully skipped into Aenhrys' office, excited for our first lesson to begin. I was in a particularly good mood after taking a nap to make up for lost sleep, and a quick session in the library.

The old elf snorted but didn't look up from his desk. "I would say good morning to you as well, princess. If only it wasn't three in the afternoon."

What can I say? I'm not used to waking up at five in the morning after partying.

"Sorry, Aenhrys…" I muttered.

The old elf looked at me disapprovingly, his grey eyebrows furrowing. "Master or Professor." he scolded with the smallest hint of a smile on his angular elvish face.

I decided to go with the more honorific term of 'master,' and politely apologized to the elf.

Aenhrys pursed his lips and waved aside my apology, announcing, "The first lesson you will learn from me: you must be constantly aware of where you rank at all times. I could be the difference between a moth and a dragon. One may be of no concern, while the other may be a matter of life and death."

I looked up at Aenhrys, who was staring sternly at me over the tomes and papers on his desk. "I will do well to remember thy wisdom, Master Aenhrys."

The elf humfed, shuffling a stack of already perfectly straightened papers between long, branchlike fingers. "Never mind that now," he said. "We have important matters that we must attend to." He stood up and walked across his study, nudging piles of books and boxes of fragile equipment along the way.

Striding over to a smaller door that was half-covered by a midnight blue curtain, he thrusted a magenta tinted lamp into my hand. Aenhrys took out a long silver key from his cloak; unlocking the door which seemed to lead down a spiral staircase. Not quite unlike the one I had seen in my first vision.

Aenhrys started to descend down the stairs, disappearing around the corner. I shrugged, thinking it best to follow the old elf. Even if I didn't fully trust him. Let alone understand what the hell was going on.

"Master Aenhrys?" I called, trying to keep pace with the elf. He may look old and withered, but he was clearly just as noble and agile as the other elves. Proven by gracefully leaping down two, three, four stairs at a time.

"Master Aenhrys?" I called again, hoping to get at least a meager response. "Master, what does this have to do with my visions?"

The elf still gave no response, never breaking his relentless pursuit down the stairwell.

I sighed and followed.

After half an hour later of breathlessly trying to keep pace with Aenhrys, running down hallways and corridors, (Honestly, I didn't know the difference) up and down staircases, and through dimly lit dungeons and great halls; we had finally arrived at a small wooden door.

My jaw dropped as the door opened.

I was standing back in Aenhrys' study.

"What was all that running around for?!" I demanded in outrage.

Aenhrys looked at me sternly over his rectangular spectacles. "I was simply conducting an experiment."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. "And did you reach a conclusion to said experiment?"

"Yes, I did. I have concluded not to instruct you in my art. You are simply too impatient and tiresome."

My jaw dropped. "Me? Impatient? You led me through the entire fricking mountain without an explanation!!!"

Aenhrys looked at me with the same calm expression as he always wore. It's the most memorable thing about him. It's the look of someone who is morally disappointed, but refuses to tell you why. The expression of someone who refuses to be angry.

"Alexandra, did I tell you to follow me?" He asked politely.

I frowned and thought back to the beginning of the 'lesson.' "No. You just handed me a lamp and frolicked off down a staircase."

"Exactly. You were never supposed to follow me. But your curiosity got the best of you. You were simply too hasty to start. Prophetic work and historical study take years of practice. No civilization is built in a day. It takes countless years of labor to achieve such a feat."

"So…this was all a…test?"

The old elf nodded and walked over to a bookshelf whereupon he began to pull down dusty tomes and frayed scrolls off the shelves.

I moved to his side. "Master, what can I do to make up for my mistake?"

He pursed his lips and handed me a lofty stack of books. "Read these, and only when you can tell me a satisfactory recap of the first age of elves, can you return."

My knees buckled under the weight of the books. "Yes, master."

I sat on my couch, reading 'An Advanced History of Thelnilin, for the Accomplished Scholar.' that Aenhrys had been kind enough to bestow upon me.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I moved the silk ribbon to mark my page and walked to the door, curious as to whom would be visiting at such a late hour. Arna perhaps? Maybe Roan? He had taken the liberty of visiting at this time before.

I sighed as I opened the door. Arius.

"Greetings, Princeling."

Arius inclined his head graciously, his chestnut hair falling before his unblinking eyes. "Greetings, Alexandra."

I gave my best impression of Roan's unnerving smile. "Tell me, Arius, has your sour tongue come to gloat? Or are you here to receive the well-deserved punch in your perfect teeth?" I don't know where the bitterness and badassery came from, but I was loving it.

"Actually, Al-"

I cut him off, "Oh where are my manners? Come in, your highness."

Arius inclined his head again and made his way inside, lounging against one of my armchairs.

"Would you like something to drink? Poison, perhaps?"

Arius pursed his lips and gestured for me to sit down, which I didn't. He took a deep breath. "Allie-"

"Alexandra."

Arius rolled his eyes. "Alexandra, I didn't mean for last night to happen, I'm sorry for what I said-"

I laughed. More of a cackle if anything. "Oh oh oh! Finally! Yet another apology that I don't give one damn about. You broke a part of my heart I didn't even know I had until you waltzed on into my life! AND ALL YOU CAN SAY IS SORRY?!" Rage, anger, sadness, heartbreak, betrayal; all of the emotions that I had kept bottled up now flooded out of me. The tears that I hadn't shed when my mother died, the lion that didn't roar when I was reunited with my father, the wolves that never attacked when Arius left me on the dance floor.

Arius looked at me dumbstruck. "I broke your heart? I broke your heart?! I didn't even know you had a soul! Who could ever love such a sorry excuse for a princess?!" He shouted, a mock grin on his face.

"Is this a game to you?!" I screeched in horror.

Arius laughed evilly. "You don't know a thing, do you, girl? How dare you speak to the crowned prince like that!"

"Stop laughing!" I cried, tears streaming from my eyes, soaking into my robe.

"Know your place, Alexandra!" Arius barked. "If you had any sense, you'd go run off as a peasant's whore housewife like you belong!"

I looked at him with a hollow stare as his face paled, as his hands rose to cover his gaping mouth, as a fresh film of tears covered his ever-changing eyes.

"I'm sorry." he whispered, horrified.

"Is that what you think of me?" I asked just as quietly, my voice unwavering. "An idiot girl whose fate is to live the life of an indecent, whoring peasant? Is that what you think of me?" I leaned closer, not caring that my hand was glowing like it had done long ago in Thaelin. "Let me tell you something, princeling. I am the princess of the high elves, heir to the golden throne of Thelnilin. A descendant of a line tenths fold longer than that of your petty monarchy. I am the lost princess, the warrior blessed by Theia, a future queen of elves. How dare you insult me like that?!"

Arius shrank beneath my towering gaze, crystal-like tears rolling down his flushed cheeks. "Allie, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that! I was angry-"

"Well you can't really blame me now, can you? The only one you can blame is yourself." I knew he didn't mean to say it, but frankly, I didn't care. I twirled a lock of hair around my finger in mock boredom. "You know, Arius, I really felt sorry for you. About your father and all. But now, I see it, you're just weak."

I didn't care about the hurt that was shining on his face, the diamond-like tears rolling down his cheeks. All I cared about was him getting the hell away from me. "Allie…"

"Goodbye, Arius."

He gave one, long, heartfelt glance. Full of remorse and longing, sadness, and sorrow. But as the prince had said, I didn't really have a soul, did I? Just a stone-cold, pretty face with no more joy or emotion than a statue. I was probably just another one of his experiments. Just another thoughtless princess to fool around with for his pleasure.

Arius slowly turned around and walked out the door, which I locked behind him. I leaned against it and sank to the floor, sobbing quietly in my arms.

Deep down, I hoped that Ari was doing the exact same thing. In this battle, we had both come off worse than if we had left each other well enough alone. And it was all my fault.