Page 66 of A Rising Hope

“I am just supposed to give this to you,” she mumbled, running up to me on bare feet. Our eyes met and a little chill ran down my skin. I knew her. A feeling so certain.

How did I know her?

She handed me a simple letter, unsealed, and a few stems of blossoming, beautiful wildflowers, the type that Gideon had gifted me so many times before. My forehead creased with deep lines; my brows bunched together. I opened the letter. There was only one paper in it, folded in half.

“What is this?” I raised my brow in question. But she was gone.

I twisted on my feet, looking around, but it was as if the girl had dissolved into thin air, carried away by the seashore winds.

My heart drummed against my chest as I opened the paper, recognizing the handwriting immediately.

My hand covered my mouth, and I dropped the wildflowers to the ground as I read Gideon’s message written with a deep, dark red ink reminiscent of blood.

So, Finnleah, Daughter of the Dead, have you won the war yet? I am getting bored waiting.

P.S. - Is it too late to ask what your favorite color is?

I am simply dying to know.

There was no doubt in my entire body that it was him. None.

There was no other person in this world that would, given the only opportunity to write to his wife, choose to write the most useless, obnoxious, arrogant words.

I wasn’t sure how he did it.

But he was alive.

He was alive.

And for the first time in forever, I could fully breathe.

His measly couple of sentences were all the reassurance I so desperately needed.

“Fucker! I am going to find you and make you pay for this!” I shouted from the edge of the cliff at the top of my lungs, laughing through my tears of relief as I dropped to my knees. “This is all you give me?!” I yelled to the winds and roaring ocean as I shook the letter. “Prick! How about something useful?” I cried out, and for a second, I could feel his wicked laugh echo in the winds.

46

ZORA

Orest’s brown mare huffed as he brought her to an abrupt stop. His eyes were lost on the horizon, like he was seeing something I couldn’t. I rose my fist up, halting the large Destroyer army that followed behind us to a complete stop. A wave of rustling metal, lines and battalions froze in the endless meadows of the Esnox plains.

“Something is not right,” Orest murmured, taking another peek at the silver tree line ahead. The young forest luring us with a reprieve of shade. A drip of sweat rolled down my neck as I too listened for anything out of place.

Orest only had a second to drop the visor on his helmet before a giant arrow scraped the metal edge of his helm.

“They are here.” My voice dropped to a threatening growl as a large Destroyer army appeared from the timberline. Their silver armor reflected the bright daylight above. Line by line, they marched forward in unison.

Loud horns accompanied by the zing of their drawn swords and daggers echoed through the air, playing a deadly war prelude.

Their archers blanketed the cloudless sky with a rain of burning arrows blazing towards us.

“Hold!” Orest shouted, his voice like an echo, repeated by the battalion commanders, reached the very last soldier, readying the army for the battle.

I dared to glance down the line where most of the Ten stood near their spouses. Armed and ready. Swords, shields, axes, spears. Not a hint of panic, nor of hesitation. Their faces illuminated with courage, bravery, and the absolute viciousness that they were about to bestow on the ignorant enemy.

Another round of scorching long-bow arrows flew towards us—another invitation to play. But our armies stood still, watching the deadly armies of the Destroyers march towards us.

I knew sooner or later we would have to face them.

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