Their Prophecy

Headache

In Analise's short time studying under Brentik, the most recently elected Chieftain of the Northern Tribe, he'd chosen to evade topics that led to discussions of war or politics.

He'd taught her much about the elves, their purpose, the reasons why they chose to create a society apart from other creatures, as well as their ability to use the language of the Gods, otherwise known as Evoko. In their song, they can call forth whatever elemental ability that particular elf is born with--earth, water, wind, or fire. Sometimes, an elf finds themselves tongue tied, unable to weld the ancient language at all. In rare cases, an elf might be able evoke multiple abilities.

Analise could call on a fifth element.

Brentik had been baffled, hearing her song, watching it call forth a terrifying power, one that sent sand flying up into the sky, her eyes turning that shining white--and there was no name for what she was doing.

He had never heard that song before, one announcing a true queen.

It was threatening.

Dark.

But there was no denying that she was utilizing Evoko.

And though he didn't recognize what it was she had called forth, he was certain it was something dangerous. Powerful.

Rising from the ground, entranced in her own song, he'd wondered if the girl had realized she'd been floating there, hands drawn outwards, head tilted back. The pressure of it, pushing downward, intense--he'd found himself hitting his knee, the weight of it forcing everyone downward with the same sensation as a Purebloods' command. Finite. Undeniable.

Ominous, her song had sent a rush of goosebumps across his skin.

Brentik had never felt something so frightening in his life and he was battle-hardened, a warrior.

The whimpers of the other elves, the ones who had never experienced such a thing, were tangible. He'd grit his teeth against the sound, stomach twisting with anxiety at the fact that he couldn't help.

Chieftain or not, he was no match for Analise Thanisius.

When her feet had touched the ground once more, the wind dissipating as the song came to an end, sand falling from every direction, and the girl had mercifully turned on her heel and departed. Brentik had been too stunned by the forced bow to properly deal with the outraged elves coming at him from all sides, all of whom had surrounded him once the threat was gone, demanding that he do away with the dark elf.

They were calling her a dark elf.

Accusing her of wielding dark magic.

Demanding she be exiled from the tribe.

Cast out.

The girls father may have been too busy tending to his bond to respond to the outrage but the Rosario brothers had no problem flashing silver eyes, breaking up the crowd with ease as they moved to Brentik's side. The Councilmen had looked outraged by the way they flanked him--they thought they'd brokered some kind of deal without discussing it with them, that the brothers were protecting Brentik.

They were mistaken.

Luca Rosario's hand had clapped down on his shoulder, leaning close, eyes piercing. "That is my neice."

"Our niece," Xavier corrected, his hand now clapping Brentik's upper back.

"She's a good girl," Luca stated, his hand tightening at his shoulder in a way that was painful. Threatening. "I expect her to be treated with the utmost respect within your territory."

"Don't worry, Luca. I'm certain he's capable of smoothing over this little misunderstanding," Xavier said with a grin. "Can't you, Chief?"

"Either he fixes this," Luca said, his smile matching his younger brothers, "Or I will." Brentik kept a carefully calm expression, aware of the proximity of their teeth.

Brentik had sat up most of that night, pondering what to do to handle this mess. He thought of Eos, of all of her kind words she'd used in the past to describe those brothers, the ones who just seemed to keep putting him in questionable situations. Between being placed in charge of assimilating Analise who was, by all rights, an abnormal child even compared to the average Pureblood, into the unwilling eleven community and using Brentik in a ploy to gain weaponry access from varying allies by fabricating a war between the brothers, he found that the Coucil was asking more and more questions about their political situation. Questions the brothers would kill him for answering truthfully.

What is the girl?

Why are you so closely affiliated to the brothers?

Why aren't we limiting their access to our land?

Are you our Chieftain or a pawn for the Purebloods?

Raking his palms over his face, Brentik thought everything he'd achieved in the past year. Facing representatives of the Circle, somehow managing to win autonomy over their land, creating an open lane of communication with the Coalition of Equality--the only thing that was stopping him up was Analise.

The wildling that could sing.

The should-be toddler with terrifying capabilities.

Was it possible for her to be a darkling?

If so, he'd decided, it was better to find out sooner rather than later.

Rising from bed in the middle of the night, he'd made his way to birthing ward of the hospital and found a trustworthy nurse with curly blonde hair and caring blue eyes. "Why?" Azalea had asked, confused by his request for charmed water.

It was used on each elf baby as soon as they were born, even before their parents could hold them.

It was the most important test for an elf to pass.

The only test that truly mattered.

He knew no other nurses would be here at this time but still glanced about to make sure a certain jungle cat wouldn't overhear. Kai took to lingering near Azalea, typically sauntering about somewhere close by, keeping a careful watch on the young elf. Companions tend to do that. When he was certain they were alone, he said, "Analise."

Azalea's eyes widened but understanding crossed her features.

With a tight nod, she left to retrieve what was necessary and asked for no further information.

The less she knew when it came to the Purebloods, the better.

Now it was late morning and, staring at his watch, he clutched the small vial of charmed water in his fist, aware that the little girl was thirty minutes late for her lesson.

Young as she was, she'd always been punctual, prepared. She enjoyed learning, was chalk full of questions, curiosities.

Thirty minutes was unlike her.

He was wondering where she might have gone, whether she might forego their lectures in totality moving forward--but he wasn't left wondering for long.

Panting like a fool, one of his recent recruits barged into his tent, not even bothering with a salute as he spluttered, "Chief, please! You have to come! There's been--it's, uh, it's hard to explain!" Frazzled, scrambling, he motioned for Brentik to follow and, standing up, he felt a sense of impending dread sweep through him, the familiar ache building just above his brow.

He had very little doubt that this had something to do with his missing pupil.