Chapter 8 - Aston

The Forest was always eerie. Whether it be morning or night, cold or hot. The trees' shadows seemed to loom over me, making me seem like prey instead of the predator. Pulling my sword out of my sheath, I crept towards the bushes, where a deer stood, innocently munching on the grass.

Perfect.

I lowered my sword and picked up a dagger from my boot, instead. Carefully aiming, I threw it. The dagger flew threw the air, landing right on the deer's heart. It fell to the ground, convulsing for a few seconds before it lay, dead.

I quickly moved towards the deer, before anyone else could steal my catch. I picked up the dagger. Neatly skinning the deer, I dragged the meat back to where Storm still sat, reading his book. Next to him was a bag filled with more books.

I gaped, shock filling my features. Storm only spared me a smug smile before going back to reading.

I rolled my eyes. Even if I took those away, he would probably appear with more.

I set up a fire in the middle of the campsite, and grabbed two tents to put up. After making an ice sphere to cover and shield us, I cooked the deer meat and distributed a quarter to Storm and another quarter to me, leaving half for tomorrow. I would just have to preserve it.

Quickly freezing the meat, I dried the skin, which could be useful. By the time I was done, Storm was already cozy in his tent, a tiny light on, which meant he wasn't planning to sleep tonight. I couldn't possibly trust Storm to watch over, because he would just be absorbed in his book, oblivious to everything happening around him.

Once, in a war, Storm stood in the middle of the battlefield, clutching a book in his hand, and read. Arrows were flying his way, but he stood with a slowly-cracking ice shield around him. Typical. Wasting his energy for an ice shield to protect him and his precious books. I had to shatter the shield and pry the book out of his hands so that he could actually see the chaos happening around him. He almost got killed, but Storm still didn't look scared. He looked more interested in getting his book back.

Aspen, Wren, North and I were still betting on how long it would take for Storm to give up his books. Aspen and Wren both betted a few centuries, and North said a few decades. And me knowing Storm the best, said never.

I sat in the tent, but with the opening opened, so I could observe our surroundings. I still remembered the tales of the Forest fae that Wren would take the time to tell me about, when I was younger.

The Forest fae were said to be fae from all the Lands; the Summer, Spring, Autumn and Winter Lands. They were the ones who had been exiled from the rest of the fae, exiled from those that they loved and cared for. It was supposedly a punishment for the crimes that they had committed. It must have been really evil ones for them to be exiled.

Migdalia was the one who created what was known as the Forest fae. She set up refuge in the Forest, inviting other exiled fae to stay with her. Together, they made a home, a safe place. Wren never said it out loud, but his face always shined when he talked about the Forest fae. He looked like he yearned to join them, to experience their ways. But he was Crown Prince, he couldn't leave his kingdom, he couldn't be free. Wren had responsibilities and rules he had to follow.

Suddenly, I heard a faint sound a few meters away. I was already wide awake, and didn't think I could fall back asleep without finding out what was making the noise, so I pushed myself up and disabled the ice shield for a second so I could quickly step out. I prowled towards the area, and before I could investigate further, a big, dark shadow loomed over me.