Ch. 1

The day had finally come.

When antsy Tribes collied once more. Where the loud echo of heavy steel against steel replaced the calmness of nature and the muddy land scape beneath their feet. She remembered the days watching the tranquil haze of the morning mist lift with the burn of the rising sun, idly humming a tune of her forefathers. Listening to the power of the waves crash in harmony on the rocky bank from the open ocean near by her village. The hours she would spend just threading and weaving the long strands of her yellow locks into a braid over her shoulder, enjoying the peace this time had to offer, and ensuring that each piece had it's place. With the decorative makeshift hair ornaments of the small, white may flowers and green vines that surrounded her in a bed of evergreen grass, a color that fell into a prefect contrast with her matching eyes. Her beauty, whispered among the tribes as a prize to be possessed. However, her spirit was that of a different breed - a breed in which no man could hope to tame, for Kelleigh had not only been raised in the art of war by her father, but on the opposite end of the scale was her contrasting cheerful and upbeat personality and thirst to learn new and foreign things. Already, knew more about the outside world that surrounded them than her father, or mother for that matter, ever would. This was what the King feared most of his daughters invasive, yet positive personality, it would get her into trouble one day, he was almost absolutely sure of it.

But now, the scent of the lush woods and salty sea ocean had faded to the unmistakable metallic flavor of blood that stained the place in which Kelleigh called her home. Into chaos and ruin, the battle cries of those she had known her entire life muffled under the stifling smoke that filled her lungs. Never had she dreamt of such carnage against her beloved village. They had taken up arms once more, this time to defend the legacy that flowed through her veins. She was the daughter of the King, a bloodline of warriors of brute strength and skill with their Caladblog replica unmatched in the secret of it's craftsmanship, for the Celtic steel had been forged for their clan alone, carved with the Celtic knots of their people in order to complete the ritual that bound them to the wielder.

She too, was ready for the fight that had begun at the outskirts of their boarders. Rebels of clashing Tribes in search of eliminating the power that ruled over them. Or was it for something entirely different? It was a question that would be - for some time - remain unanswered in all it's truth. It had been a long road of peace and harmony, a time of prosperity where the Gods could finally slumber peacefully knowing their children had come to terms on their own, trusting them was their biggest regret. For, is greed and power not what is natural in the nature that controls us all? Peace was a fairy tale. The King was well aware of this in her childhood preparation of the day that she now faced.

"Father!" she felt her heart thud loud in her own ears as the sight of her protective King clinging to the open wound stained with the red of his own blood. Her face dirty with soot from the thinning battle, the rebels were closing in and little time was left to fabricate action. But brute strength was in her peoples nature, and thinking before one acts was never a forte they possessed. To their last breath, they would fight. It was the lessons of old, and the Celtic legends of her forefathers that had carved the way for them now. But she had always been different and breaking the rules had always been some what of a habit, or so her mother had always scolded.

Kelleigh slid across the moist earth to her knees next to the wheeze of her dying King. A long curved staff like the backbone of a bow yet not string attached to either side, shimmered with the flicker of the destructive fire near by, as though it were made of a very rare, black crystal. A claymore sized to fit her grip with he Celtic knot of the royal house, heavy to any other who would dare try to wield it, along with it's sheathed matching twin on the leather holster designed to support both on either side of her hips. "What can I do?" she followed, a tear would never be shed for a warrior that met his end with honor on the battle field, but the proud memory of the valiant fight he had fought would be written by the Druids. History would remember him and the stories would be passed down through each generation. This time? It would be no different. Their bloodline will live on. The King would be sure of it.

"Listen to me, gal," he muttered, his lips spotted with drops of blood with each word spoken. He loved his daughter. He raised her to be strong. He raised her to be kind and carefree. He raised her to choose her own path when the time came for her to do so with the fire and pride of their people to guide her on her way. But this? This was too soon. His wife lie seemingly lifeless within arms reach, a Warrior Queen who had yet to reveal the fundamental necessities their daughter would need to understand the strife of the true face of the world she had been introduced in the blink of an eye. The secret she had yet to realise, and the cause of this war. "You must leave this place. Dechtire and Aiden are with you and are sworn your safety to me. It is important that you get away..." he coughed, wincing at the shift in his pain. His daughter leaning over, hanging to his dying words...they would be his last that she would remember. "They are after you...my daughter," with that, Kelleigh felt the air around her go stale, and the silence of the burning grass and wood around her had become a welcomed comfort to the loss that lay before her. The King lost consciousness and was surely gone from this world and welcomed into the gates of the Otherworld where the Gods awaited his arrival.

"Me? Why what? I don't understand!?" she screamed, shaking the motionless body of the brute of a man, his deep blue, green and red tartan sash and kilt of their family colors soaked with the blood of his enemies - remained still. Bright evergreen eyes darted to the two lingering near by, abiding the instructions given to them before the passing of their King. To take her and protect her, keeping what they knew from her and others they may encounter on their travels that would exploit and be used, what she has yet to understand about herself.

"Come Princess, we need to go now, there is no time to waste," Dechtire stood from her keel, reaching to coil her thick fingers around Kelleigh's upper arm to help her to her feet. Aiden followed suit - bittered by a shameful ordered retreat, he sheathing his sword and readjusting his kilt swiftly, taking the lead toward the narrow beaten path. The sound of rocks under his feet told him that shore was not far and to the boat that tied vacant until it was needed. The fog was thick, and the yells of their enemies drew closer when Kelleigh did as she was instructed, holding back forbidden tears and lifting filth caked fingers to the thin golden crown, woven like branches to a blue gem at her forehead, to remove it from her brow. She was no longer to be what she had grown up to be. Instead, she was just Kelleigh. A simple girl. Until she would return and rebuild what was stolen from her. She knew this now as she placed the valued trinket on her King's chest as a final farewell.

Enduring the pain of loss in silence, Kelleigh stepped before the plump hand maid in pursuit of Aiden whom had gone on ahead of them. "This is against our laws you know," she muttered, feeling the same bite of bitterness Aiden felt in turning his back on the closing battle. "I would fight to the last breathe, he knew that, so why send me away now?" her thoughts had been more of a questioning interrogation aloud as she cast a sharp glance over the soft curve of her bare shoulder to the maid in toe. Of course, there had been no response, as her face had been painted with the gory images of war no handmaiden should ever witness...nor a Princess for that matter.

When the fog lifted just enough to make out the silhouette of Aiden readying the small vessel, complete with the supplies they would need for the journey to...where ever the currents would take them. From there, where the wind blew. Extending a rough hand to help the young woman into the boat first, next for the handmaiden to follow. Once both woman were situated, the large Celt untied the thick rope that secured boat to shore, tossing it in the hull, and placing firm hands against the sturdy wood, and digging his feet in against the rocky bed for a running start.

However, just when things had grown far too quiet - the sharp whisking sound of an arrow narrowly missing his ear, Aiden grunted with all his force sent the vessel deeper into the vast body of water. The splash of him rushing to catch up had signaled the approaching rebel force to the beach. "Hurry Aiden! Get in!" Kelleigh leaned far over the rail, extending a hand for the brute to take in order to hoist himself over the side. Arrows soon began sailing through the thick fog, impaling in the wooden body afloat with one arrow head deflected by the fitted decorated metal forearm protector around the lower half of her arm. With all her remaining might, Kelleigh used her strength to help lift a man twice her size into the safely of the boat.

Both panting, crouched low where Dechtire had already done so under Aiden's shield she had found among the supplies. The whip of arrows growing more faint the farther the ship carried them away from the burning shore of her homeland. Once green and lush, now scorched and burned to the ground. The mere thought had caused her blood to boil to a simmer. "One day, we will return..." she huffed.

"Yes, but until that day comes...you are not a princess. You are Kelleigh. You are not a warrior you are a simple girl not to draw attention to ourselves until the time is right." Aiden reminded her of her fathers last wish. It would be in these next weeks that she would use to mourn not only her father, her King...but her people as well.

Lifting herself with tired muscles, just enough to peer into the swirling grey abyss to the last she would see of her home until then.

"Goodbye..." she whispered.