J. Chansellor - Son of Erebus

She moaned and fought him, but he outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds — probably more.

"I have no intention to harm you, nor did I to begin with. I didn't see you," he spoke softly, feeling more sympathy than he cared to. As much as he disdained her world, her whimpering was woeful enough to bring any Adorian to his knees.

He noticed then that the animal he had been so certain was a wolf was in fact a dog. It rose and trotted alongside them as Michael carried her through the woods to his horse. "Is this beast a friend of yours?" he asked her.

"Koen," she whispered. It was the last thing she said before finally succumbing to unconsciousness.

He placed her on the horse first, pulled himself up behind her, holding her around the waist with one arm, and took the reins with the other hand. He had brought his horse to carry the spoils of his hunt. This was far from what he'd expected to return with.

It was not a short ride to the capital, but it went quickly as he was consumed with watching the horizon. His only thought was to gather his men as swiftly as possible and strengthen the border.

The cuts on her face and the bruising were plainly visible as they entered the gates of Cyphrus, but what caused him to wonder more was her clothing. Though she wore an Ereubinian cloak, her pants and tunic were human, typical of the poorer villages.

He slowed his horse to a trot just outside of the keep, stopping as a stable boy approached them.

"My Lord," he bowed, taking the reins in his small hands.

"Wake Jareth and tell him I need his men on the southern border." He turned to one of the two guards who approached as he dismounted. "Summon the Arch Elders. I'll convene with them after I have taken her to the healer." He didn't wait for their acquiescence.

Starting up the stairs to the massive double doors of the keep, a scant smile passed over his lips. There, sitting patiently, as though he'd known in advance where Michael was taking his companion, was the dog.

"Well, come on then, no sense leaving you out here alone."

After navigating a long hallway, he came to a narrow staircase that was easy to miss if one wasn't looking for it. At its base was a small room, lit only by the dwindling light of the hearth. In a chair nestled in the corner was an elderly woman, the healer Aulora, her head resting sideways where it had fallen onto her shoulder.

"Tu denai nordumbra led estrinigh," he whispered.

She looked up and studied the girl for a moment before answering him in the same tongue and motioning for him to set her onto the bed nearby.

"Is she human?" Michael asked.

Aulora ignored his question and began to tend to the girl's wounds, chanting softly as she worked. He'd turned to leave her to her art when the healer spoke, "She is not human."

He stared back at her, praying she'd give him a direct answer for a change. "Was she escorted, or did she enter alone?"

The healer hummed a bit more and then smoothed an unruly red curl from the girl's forehead. "No, this one is not human." After patting the girl's cheek affectionately, she pulled the cloak from around her and studied it in the firelight. He hadn't taken the time to examine it, but the markings he'd noted as Ereubinian also indicated authority. Feeling that Aulora had said all that she was going to, Michael took the cloak and started out the door.

None but Adorians were able to pass the divide. All others simply passed over it as if Adoria didn't exist. It had been this way for so long, thousands of years, that the time before the divide that protected them seemed merely legend.

While Michael waited for the elders to assemble, he walked the corridors, running through options in his head. He eventually stopped outside their chambers, waiting to be summoned.

Michael breezed through the doorway into their presence. There were twenty-four of them, both men and women. This had been the governing body over Adoria since the dawn of the first age of war, answerable to the man who once held the title of King. Michael, who currently held the seat of sovereignty, was the son of the Adorians' most honored soldier.

Gabriel, Michael's father, had led many battles and had protected many villages from ruin. He was the last to lead the Braeden — an elite group of male Adorians whose wings were removed at birth so they appeared to be human men. Trained from infancy, they were taught the art of warfare and the customs of Middengard, the human realm. Deadly accurate in their abilities to both wield a sword and shoot a bow, they'd held off the total captivity of man for centuries.

There had once been Adorian women in Middengard as well, but not many. The few remaining who were not killed had returned to Adoria after the elders decreed that the age of guardianship had come to an end, after Gabriel's death. Michael never agreed with this and still rode with his men, doing everything in his power to keep Palingard from Ereubinian reign. In the end, though, his effort simply wasn't enough.

The elders rose from where they sat several rows deep in a circular pattern that was sunken into the floor of the room, as Michael took his place at the center.

"My Lord, we have been informed that forces have been sent to the border?" Jenner's statement — more of a question — was spoken on behalf of the elders. Jenner functioned as the elders' voice much of the time, leading their discussions with Michael, and he remained standing after the others had reseated themselves.

"What you have heard is true. With the healer now is a girl I found near the southern stone, an Ereubinian."

"How can you be so certain she is Ereubinian, my Lord?" a voice asked from behind him.

Michael held up the cloak, clenching his fingers into a fist through the wool. "Not that Aulora needed to comment on her adornment, but she confirmed that our visitor is not human."

Jenner stood wordless for a moment, unable to argue with what Michael revealed. The healer was never wrong. She spoke very seldom, but what she said was never questioned. The Elder's eyes glazed over as murmurs and whispers floated through the room, filling the uncomfortable silence for several moments. "Are there any among us who are not accounted for?"

Jenner's question would normally have irritated him, but on this night, in combination with the Adorians laid to rest at the Torradh just days earlier, it infuriated him.

"Are you suggesting that one of them would betray me, lead an Ereubinian in, then leave her to defend herself, alone in the dark, in a realm she has never seen?" This had been a constant source of dissension for the council, leaving Michael pained as to how best to protect Adoria and yet maintain peace among the various provinces. "Do you believe Eidolon's dark grasp to have traveled so far as to corrupt one of our own? You would believe this before you would believe that they had found a way past the divide? Insanity does not begin to — "

Jenner cut him off. "My Lord, please, I meant no slight to you. This just seems to make little sense."

"Truly, it does not make sense for them to send in a seemingly innocent girl, one whom we would have little wish to harm. Do you not see the logic in this?" He pulled the sword from a sheath at his back and held it aloft for the council to see. "This sword was near her when she fell, she could not have come alone. Sending forces to reinforce the borders will not be enough. You know my sentiments on this." Frustrated, Michael sat down against the large stone that served as the centerpiece of the room. Sighing, he wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and stretched out his wings.

"You cannot lose your faith in the divide, my Lord." Jenner gave Michael a tight-lipped smile, but the attempt at placating him failed.

"This is what the council wishes, for us to sit back and let them destroy all that is left of our world? Or is there another option that you are failing to tell me?"