100 Tarken's chosen bride

A week passed.

Arazhan's gaze locked upon the soldiers past the massive window of his chambers. They honed and tested their swords, readying themselves for the war. 

He couldn't shake the question of why his grandfather had called for him so urgently. The Narva tribe chief was not a formidable opponent. The second-line commander was capable enough to take him down. His command was not required. It was also mysterious to Arazhan how he found out about the soul switch. 

"I should be mad at you for leaving without a word."

Arazhan heard a voice transporting him to the present. He could sense the sulking tone without turning to see the face. "Trust me, if I had wings, I would have soared to your side to get your permission, no matter where you were residing."

"That's not the reply I expected, brother." 

"That's not the question I expected either, Rander," Arazhan remarked, turning around.