Here it is, the long anticipated sequel to "Unbroken!" If you haven't read that yet, I highly advise getting through that first, otherwise this story will seem very confusing.


It starts as rumors, nothing more than gossip, and most don't believe the stories. The clans that are too far away to have seen it don't believe it, think it's all just a new tale to tell around the fire late at night. The further the tale travels, the more it twists into something unbelievable, little details changing as the story jumps from person to person until from a hundred it shifts into a thousand and then ten thousand, and warriors shake their heads when they hear mothers telling the story to their children. Those who lead the clans, kings, queens, chiefs and ambassadors, think the same thing their people do: it's nothing but a tale the Trikru started that has managed to trickle all the way to them. It happens, sometimes; a story will start in one clan and then will travel with warriors or tradesmen to others. It has happened more in the last five years than ever before, ever since Heda managed to unite all twelve clans under the coalition. The travel between clans still is infrequent, especially in the east where the Maunon still plague the clans around them, but even so gossip spreads. Perhaps, those far away think, it is merely a story meant to reach the Maunon, to scare them away. They do not see how a story could scare the monsters that have lived underground as far back as anyone can remember, but even after five years, none of them pretend to completely understand how other clans think.

/

The first wave of messengers sweep out in great numbers before winter has really begun to set in, and the clans all realize their mistake. Heda's messengers arrive at eleven villages to seek the leader of each clan, spreading their tales along their way, and that's when they all learn.

The stories, it turns out, are not just stories.

A great structure did fall out of the sky, dropping a hundred strangers in the middle of Trikru territory. Battles, most small in size, were fought between their Trikru sister-clan and the invaders, both sides losing fighters. The other clans know the ferocity of the Trikru warriors; it should have taken little work to destroy the invaders, but the messengers tell them news that makes them pause, makes them shift nervously when they hear it.

The invaders have tek. The same kind of tek that has been aiding the Maunon all these years, the kind that pierces through flesh faster and far deadlier than any spear or arrow. These invaders, these Skaikru as the messengers call them, use their tek to kill the warriors sent to retrieve the land they stole. Only a few weeks after the first round of invaders land, more contraptions fall from the sky, and now there are not a hundred invaders but hundreds. When the leaders hear this, many grab for the weapons strapped to their sides or backs, their palms itching to lead their warriors into battle with these invaders. How long, they wonder, will it be before they choose to try to steal land outside of Trikru territory? How long before they come for the other clans, for their own clans?

The messengers continue to tell of the invaders' leader. They tell of how she burned three hundred Trikru warriors alive, of how it is she that gives the orders that lead to so many Trikru deaths. Those listening hear the girl described, and they cannot believe it: this girl, this invader whose hair shines like the sun and whose eyes glow bright like the sky she fell from, she is the one that brings forth so much death? And yet they cannot doubt it, know better than to call the messengers liars because they know, all of them, that looks can be deceiving. Each remember a time when they laughed at the thought of a coalition, of peace reigning between the clans, and yet it was one other girl, whose strength was quiet but oh so powerful, who forced this peace into place.

Those listening to the tale wait to hear what their Heda has done to this invader who dared threaten her people, those she was born to and those who raised her, and when they do they cannot believe it. A truce was struck, the messengers tell them. Within minutes of Heda bringing down the might of the great Trikru army, instead the Skaikru leader presented her with a deal. Rather than fight each other, they chose to unite, to come together to take down their common enemy, the Maunon, the great threat that hunted them all.

Plans were made and an army of two peoples marched against the monsters within the mountain. The leaders of the clans listen as the messengers tell the story of how the greatest army their people had ever seen fought against those who had been picking off their sister-clan's people for years. Those in the room have to catch their breath when the story takes a turn and the messengers tell of the deal the leader of the Maunon gave their Heda in the middle of battle. The leaders all nod when they hear of how their Heda saved all of her people, though their hearts scream for the Maunons' blood. More than that though, they let out a breath of relief when they hear that the invaders were left behind to die by the hand of the monsters inside the mountain. Heda did a great thing, they know: because of her, not only will the monsters no longer pick off her people, but now the invaders will have been destroyed as well. They can rest easy, knowing their land and their people are safe.

It is not so.

The messengers' story does not end when Heda leads her people away. Instead they go on, telling of how the Skaikru leader single-handedly brings the mountain to its knees. Their words paint the pictures, and the leaders hear them and cannot help the fear that grasps like claws at their hearts. This one girl, this single invader kills hundreds, the hundreds of people who had been picking off their own for generations, and she does it with the air. Those who are telling the stories are some of the ones that were there, that returned to the Mountain after, those who had seen just how powerful Wanheda is.

Wanheda.

The title causes the throats of those listening to close up. The title has not been used for years, for nearly three generations. Only two others before in their known history have earned the title, and those two who did were as ruthless as they were wise, as powerful as they were skilled. The title is given only to the greatest of leaders, the strongest of warriors, and is only a step below that of Heda. That this invader has been given the title makes all who hear it pause, makes the leaders listening grip tighter around their weapons.

The story goes on to tell of the bodies. Hundreds of bodies, all burned in a way no one has seen before. They tell of the marks, the sores that had long ago stopped oozing by the time Heda's warriors returned to care for the dead. They tell of the horror that was forever carved into their faces, the silent screams that filled the warriors' heads as they carried the corpses to the surface to be burned and put to rest. Mostly, they tell of how when they arrived, Wanheda was already there, staring at the door as though she were waiting for them. Goosebumps rise along the arms of those listening. They say she was silent as they worked, speaking only when utterly necessary, and tell of how she and Heda carried the bodies together to the surface. They speak of the shadows that flickered across her face as the fire raced up limbs and crackled into the air, the way the smoke curled around her as though the spirits of the dead were embracing her. The Commander of Death.

The last piece of news they tell is what many of those listening cling to. She didn't return, the messengers tell them, didn't return to her people once the dead were seen to. No one knows where she went or why she left, it is just known that she did not return. The Commander of Death has disappeared amongst the trees.

Good, the leaders think. Let her disappear, and let the winter have her. She may be able to defeat hundreds of warriors and hundreds of monsters, but she is still only human. Even the strongest person cannot survive easily on their own in the middle of one of the great snow storms. When foot after foot of snow falls from the sky and the wind howls loudly, blowing so fiercely that it is hard to so much as take a step forward, she will fall, they think. Warriors may not be able to kill Wanheda, but the winter surely will.

The leaders of the other eleven clans thank the messengers, give them food and shelter until they are ready to make their way back to their homes, and silently they pray to their gods and the earth to swallow Wanheda up, to strike her down before she can strike them down.

/

The winter does not kill Wanheda.

/

The second wave of messengers trickle into ten villages as spring continues to push away the winter cold. Snow no longer sticks to the ground, and the chill is beginning to be replaced with a fresh wind that blows in the scent of new life. In some clans, it is already hot, the bright sun beating down on bodies working and playing, all thick furs and heavy clothing tucked away safely until the next winter comes. It has been long enough that most do not think about Wanheda, had almost even forgotten about her. Surely the winter took care of her; what is the point of worrying?

The leaders welcome the messengers, just as they did a single season ago, and it is only then that they begin to remember the invading threat that was named Wanheda. Surely, they think, her body has been found, and Heda has merely sent these messengers to assure them all of their safety.

These are not the words they get, and the ones they do stop their beating hearts in their chests.

Wanheda is not dead.

Wanheda is not dead, but the Ice Queen is.

Wanheda is the Ice Queen.

Ubroukai, they now call her. The Unbroken: the one who would not bend, would not break before Nia, before the one who thought to crush her. The one who will never break.

The story is long, and just as worrisome as the first. More, perhaps. The messengers tell of how Heda showed up in Tondc one day, wounded. They tell of her attack, of how Queen Nia sent warriors to kill her, poisoning their weapons to be sure it worked. No one doubts it; it has always been known how furious Nia was when Ula declared Lexa Heda and not her. Everyone knows her hatred, of how she fought against the coalition not because she didn't believe in it like the rest of them, but because it was Lexa trying to unite the clans. Even more, everyone knows of what Nia did, kidnapping Heda's lover and torturing her before removing her head to give to Heda after uniting her nation with the coalition. Yes, everyone knows of Nia's cruelty and hatred, so though they are furious, no one is surprised to hear of her attack on Heda.

What they are surprised to hear is that when Heda rode into Tondc, she was not bleeding, not swaying in her saddle and dying of Nia's poison. Instead she rode in with her head high, her wounds already treated. The messengers tell Heda's story, tell how it was Wanheda who found her among the trees and took her back to her people to be healed. If not for Wanheda, their great leader would have died; few of the clans know what to make of it.

The story continues to tell of Heda preparing to go to war with Azgeda, to wipe them out for their treachery, for breaking the coalition. No one is unhappy to hear this: there is little love for Azgeda among the clans, and less love for its queen. The leaders listen, expecting to hear about how Heda destroyed her enemy, but instead the messengers tell of the arrival of two Skaikru warriors, one who was once Trikru but turned on his people. They tell Heda that Azgeda has captured Wanheda, has taken her prisoner; the leaders listening find both comfort and concern in this, knowing that while Wanheda is a threat, so too are her people.

Heda knew this too, they quickly learn. Rather than go after Nia, Heda leads her army to the Skaikru village, prepared to keep her own people safe. Once again she strikes up a deal with them, combining their armies to go after a common enemy. The messengers are again those who were there, warriors who followed Heda into this battle, and they speak of the hatred between the two people. They speak of the unease, of the tension that rolled between Trikru and Skaikru as they traveled together. Those listening hear of how each side pushed against the other, of how each expected the other to turn against them. They expect those telling the stories to tell how it came apart, how their weak truce unraveled and of the great battle that took place once it did.

That is not what they hear. Instead the messengers tell of Heda, ever strong, ever ferocious as she leads the two armies. They speak of the Skaikru leader, the one who takes over with Wanheda gone, the woman who happens to be the Commander of Death's nomon. Little is said of her, other than that she is a great healer, and she managed to keep her people in line. It was really Heda, the messengers say, who kept the two people from rioting against each other, who kept their sights set on the true enemy. Heda leads them to Azgeda, and it is Heda who realizes just how deeply Nia's treachery runs.

She is the one, they tell the leaders and listeners, those who are hanging on their every word, Heda is the one to interpret the message. No one knows how she does it or how Wanheda left it, but it is Heda who realizes that Azgeda has guns, has the Maunon's tek. When the leaders of the other clans hear this, they are in an uproar, drawing their swords or grabbing at spears, their hearts screaming for the traitors' blood. The messengers give them the moment of fury, and then they continue with their story.

Heda devises a plan, and her mixed army of Trikru and Skaikru attack Keerie, the village Nia is hiding out in. They attack and they break into Nia's army, beating them back and striking them down. The victory is assured, they all know it, and Azgeda is going to fall right after its queen does beneath Heda's sword.

But it is not Heda's sword that brings Nia down.

The listeners go silent as the messengers describe Wanheda as she demands the challenge against the queen who captured her. None of them know what to think, who they want to win. Nia is a blight, a terrible mistake of a queen who needs to be destroyed, but Wanheda is a danger, perhaps a greater danger than any of them have ever known. To wish for one's death means to wish for one's success, and they have no desire to do that.

Any wishing any of them do make is of little importance, and has no effect. The messengers continue their story, telling of how Nia and Wanheda fought, how three peoples circled around them as they did so, of how Nia threw taunts and threats and how Wanheda stood her ground. Nia strikes Wanheda, but Wanheda refuses to go down, and soon she is striking back. They continue until one takes the other down, Nia pinning Wanheda to the ground and the leaders believe that's it, Wanheda is dead, until she isn't. Once again Wanheda surprises them, and Nia is the one that ends up on the ground, gasping for air around blood that bubbles against her lips until she goes still. Nia is gone, and Wanheda is queen.

That shouldn't have been the end of the story, but it is. Heda had gone to destroy Azgeda, but when Wanheda rises, she declares peace and Heda accepts it. When Wanheda nearly dies of the poison Nia had cowardly used on her blade, Heda and her brother and Wanheda's nomon save her. The messengers speak of those hours of not knowing whether Wanheda would make it, and the leaders are surprised when they read the concern that still lingers in their eyes at just the thought. They are not surprised when they learn she has made it – at this point nothing seems to be able to kill Wanheda – but the next words out of the messengers' mouths shock each leader to their very core, shake them as deeply as they can be shook.

Heda and Wanheda are in love.

Neither speaks the words around their people, the messengers admit, but it is nevertheless clear when they see the two together later. Heda remains by Wanheda's side as she heals, refuses to leave Keerie for two weeks even after they have seen to the rest of the traitors. They are inseparable, in a way the warriors have never seen before. They put their people first, yes, but now Wanheda is Azgeda and their people are one. They have won over their people and have won over each other, and it is clear to those who listen to them speak, the Trikru at least have accepted them, accepted this bond between their Heda and this girl who was once invader and is now queen.

Many of those who listen to the story become uneasy when they hear this. The leaders shift or clench their jaws; some wonder what kind of spell Wanheda has managed to cast over Heda and her clan. They cannot see how this girl, this one who is still such a threat to them all, can be allowed to live, let alone be liked and respected. They can feel the messengers watching them, waiting for a response that they will undoubtedly report back to Heda, so they nod and say nothing, but inside they feel the fear twisting and turning, settling over them like a second skin.

They think one thing: Wanheda is a threat, and one that must be seen to.


Again, if you haven't read "Unbroken," I would suggest reading it before getting into this story. While this prologue gives a very basic summary of the major events of the first story, there are many characters and many other smaller plot points that were introduced in "Unbroken" that have pretty major roles or lead up to certain plot lines in this story, so without already being familiar with those I'm afraid you'll be a little lost.

I hope you enjoyed this little bit! I will be getting the first actual chapter up later tonight, so you won't have to wait long for more. In the mean time feel free to let me know what you think about this prologue, and to those of you who celebrate it, have a Happy Thanksgiving, and to those who don't, I hope you have a great day in general! Thanks all!