M
Maja
Southern Anirian Territory
Inarie
Maja did not like running.
There had been few times in her life that she had been forced to run, three that she could count. Once it had been from the Elves of the Falwood. A mission during her time at the Academy, a path that had gone entirely wrong. The other two times had been because of her own people; Anirians. The first had been after her deeds at the summit.
The second? The second was now.
When she had broken free of the Black Keep the Anirians had been inevitably told. Whether by magic or messenger, word had reached them quickly. It had only been a week since her escape, and it had only taken three days for them to find her.
A Dreadlord, or at least what passed for one had found her camp on the northern edges of the Falwood. He had swept down upon her like a hawk, launching fire and attempting to burn her to a cinder before she had wrenched his soul free. The magic he had carried now warded her, kept his compatriots at bay as she fled further and further into the forest.
The creature she had crafted with his spirit was strong, strong enough to hold off whatever number gave chase to her.
At least for now.
Maja could feel herself grow tired, could feel the weariness of her body. It had been three days now since she'd slept, two since she'd eaten even the scraps of what she'd caught in the woods. She was growing tired, exhausted. Soon even she would have to give out.
Inarie
Maja did not like running.
There had been few times in her life that she had been forced to run, three that she could count. Once it had been from the Elves of the Falwood. A mission during her time at the Academy, a path that had gone entirely wrong. The other two times had been because of her own people; Anirians. The first had been after her deeds at the summit.
The second? The second was now.
When she had broken free of the Black Keep the Anirians had been inevitably told. Whether by magic or messenger, word had reached them quickly. It had only been a week since her escape, and it had only taken three days for them to find her.
A Dreadlord, or at least what passed for one had found her camp on the northern edges of the Falwood. He had swept down upon her like a hawk, launching fire and attempting to burn her to a cinder before she had wrenched his soul free. The magic he had carried now warded her, kept his compatriots at bay as she fled further and further into the forest.
The creature she had crafted with his spirit was strong, strong enough to hold off whatever number gave chase to her.
At least for now.
Maja could feel herself grow tired, could feel the weariness of her body. It had been three days now since she'd slept, two since she'd eaten even the scraps of what she'd caught in the woods. She was growing tired, exhausted. Soon even she would have to give out.