• Prologue

    Sir Arnold Beetroot was proud to say his life was simple and normal. He was a large bull like man with a pot belly, a bald head and a large grey moustache. He was the headmaster of the only Ithin Murien school for nobles and royals, Ithilien Mar. It was a strict boy’s only school which was big on history and rules. Every morning he would get up at the same time, put on the same clothes (a black tunic and black breeches) and eat the same meal in the same place.
    One morning however, in early September he woke early to the sound of knocking on his bedroom door.
    “What?” He groaned from his bed.
    A calm but clear voce replied, “Messenger from Valaneisia with an oral message.”
    Arnold cursed under his breath as he struggled out of bed, a messenger from the capital couldn’t be ignored, and an oral message couldn’t be thrown on the desk and read latter. In a minute he was fully dressed and opened the door with a big yawn. In front of his stood an elf who was tall, dressed in pure green and far to skinny (in Arnold’s mind) to do any hard work.
    The elf gave him a brisk salute at least he knows his manners thought Arnold, as the elf said, “ His royal majesty Paul Ithili lord of the lands in Ithin Mur and high king of Pauleneisia sends his greetings.”
    “WHAT!” Shouted Arnold at the top of his voice, “What the hell happened to Elendien?” The news itself had to be horrible, if that was the start, Paul, the previous ruler’s only son had been opposed to the actions of many conservatives (Arnold included) and wasn’t popular among them.
    “His majesty was shot by enemy mercenaries while on a hunting trip, captured during the same incident were lord Raoul,” Arnold swore again, Raoul was one of the more conservative barons around, the elf glared at him but continued, “along with Aragom high king of elves and his two sons Tsirion and John.” Arnold didn’t interrupt, instead he just stared and the elf, unconscious that his mouth was hanging loosely open. When he had recovered his wits he replied calmly, “you’re joking, this is just a prank right, to get me awake to hear your message.”
    The elf rolled his eyes and replied, “Sadly I am not joking.”
    “Tell me your bloody message,” Arnold bellowed at the messenger grumpily.
    “Have you heard what happened at the battle of Arkins?” The elf asked, to Arnold’s irritation.
    “I don’t want to gossip I want the message,” Arnold bellowed in his face.
    “Very well my lord, I was just getting around to it,” the elf stated, slightly offended, “As I was saying, at the battle of Arkins, Axail, who is Paul’s great grand daughter, the next youngest to be specific…”
    “Isn’t she only four?” Arnold asked, interrupting yet again.
    “Shut your trap and listen,” the elf retorted, starting to get angry. The elf glared at him for a long while before continuing, “Well I’m not sure how it happened, but she wanted to see war, so she took her tiny dagger, and hid in Elendien’s saddle. At one point during the battle Elendien tripped and would have gotten stabbed by one of the dark unicorns, but she grabbed her dagger and slashed at its horn, its horn got cut of and after it separated from the unicorn’s body, it exploded.”
    The elf paused and Arnold asked, “What exploded?”
    “The dark unicorn,” The elf replied. “Now let me continue,” he said as Arnold started to open his mouth. “Now Elendien offered her anything she wanted, and she said that she wanted equal rights for everyone. Now before Elendien died, he passed that law, so I’m sorry but you now must take girls and commoners into your school or suffer the consequences.” The elf finished.
    “WHAT!” Arnold bellowed. This was insanity, he thought, nobody could make him do that!
    “However my lord,” the elf began to speak, “the king offers you another solution, here in the north you run the royalty school and northern inhabitants with girls, and in the south a school for southern inhabitants is set up.” The elf finished timidly.
    “Fine,” Arnold snapped, by now he realized that the best way to get rid of the elf was to agree with it.
    “You have to sign this form,” the elf declared, pulling a scroll out of his belt and handing it to Arnold.
    Arnold singed it promptly with a quill from his desk, handed it back to the elf and slammed the door in his face.



    Chapter I
    Eight years after the nervous elf messenger brought the angry school messenger the message, Axail Ithiliali sat excitedly in her bedroom in the royal palace of Ithin Mur in the glorious city of Valaneisia. She had grown up out of the city in a small town by the sea and was not used to the towering city. The skinny yet fast, short but solid girl who had long light brown hair and fierce brown eyes was excited to finally be recognized as an heir of Ithilien, first ruler of Ithin Mur. She was finally going to Ithilien Mar, the royalty and nobility school and had her own room in the palace. Over the years it was tradition that the children of the ruling family would live apart from the bustle of court until they were twelve. In her opinion that was ridicule but she kept it to herself.
    “Axail, we’re leaving in half an hour okay?” The voice of her father echoed through the hallway.
    “Okay papa,” she answered, then replied excitedly, “I’m just opening it!” She stared at “it,” it was a perfectly rectangular brown letter with a silver seal in the center with a picture of a book upon it. She took a deep breath, this was the moment she had been waiting for her whole life; the beginning of her training to become a knight and latter, if she was ambitious enough, General. She refused to set her sights on the throne, as a seventh child, even a war hero, all her brothers and her elder sister would have to die, or she would have to challenge them all to single combat.
    She pealed the letter open slowly, trying not to damage the seal. After a few seconds, and with some paper still stuck to the seal, with a wide grin she pulled out the letter. The paper was very thing and the writing was in dark blue ink:
    To Axail Ithiliali, seventh child of Michael Ithili son of Erich Ithili son of Paul Ithili king of Ithin Mur. We send you greetings. We have accepted your application form, please arrive no latter than 10 in the morning on September the 12. If you wish you may bring a pet. Bellow lies a list of thing you will require, please note that you may bring your own clothing and items that you find necessary.
    Yours truly, Sir, Harold Westock, vice Principal.
    Please note that you will require:
    (Books smile
    An All Round History of Ithin Mur, by Elrick Tarnum.
    The Purest Blood, by Thomas Conly.
    The Mystery of Magic, by Carol Worly.
    Mathematics, Logic and Science (The basics), by Marisa Goletskon.
    The Species of Ithin Mur, by Anna Bazlum.
    Victories and Defeats, Deaths and Glories, by Olie Ozorn.
    The Skies of the Night, by Henry Paldock
    A Field Guide to the Care of Weapons and Armor, by James Richie
    (Items smile
    A sword
    A bow
    A set of 12 arrows
    A horse
    A saddle and briddle
    A velvet cloak (dark purple) with white fur trimming the edges.
    Several plain black tunics.
    A belt (black with a silver buckle)
    Several pairs of pants (1 brown, 1 black 1 white, 1 green)
    Socks (any color)
    A pair of leather gloves (black)
    A pair of velvet gloves (black)
    A pair of fur mittens (white)
    A pair of leather boots (black)
    A pair of velvet boots (black)
    A pair of leather boots with fur liners (white)
    3 winter dresses (1 White, 1 black, 1any other color)
    3 summer/spring dresses (1 White, 1 black, 1any other color)
    A trunk
    A set of quill
    Several bottles of ink
    Several rolls of parchment

    Axail looked at the long list, folded it up and put in the pocket of her tunic. and headed down to the front hall. It was a non court day, so nobody would be around.
    She turned a corner and was almost bulldozed over by her father. “Axail,” he said panting, “I want just looking for you, not like you’re usual self, half a minute late.”
    “Papa, I was reading the letter, we can’t go shopping if we don’t know what we’re getting,” She replied confidently.
    “Then how come your grandma says she’s going for a new saddle and comes back with five dresses?” He asked. Axail turned away at the mention of that, she knew perfectly well that her grandmother meant to do that and it was no accident that she always saw (as she put it) ‘such wonderful deals, and such nice salesmen.’
    Avoiding her father’s question, she asked, “Where are we going first?”
    He father thought for a moment the said, “I think we should go to the bookstore first.”
    “Fine with me,” she replied cheerfully, happy to be out in the sun.

    At the bookstore they ran into Azail’s mother, who was browsing through the selves of manuscript. There they got all her books, a few scrolls, several large bottles of ink and some scrolls. They went to the seamstresses next and got all of her clothing.
    “You won’t be needing a sword, you already have one, but a new bow wouldn’t hurt, yours is getting far to small, well get the arrows from the royal armory, same as the saddle,” he said, consulting the list, “and we’ll have to go to paradise meadows tomorrow to get you a proper steed, maybe a unicorn or a winged horse.”
    As Axail entered the archery store, she spotted the elegantly pointed ears, angular face and short black hair that she knew so well. Her friend, prince William of Forestan (a minor elfin kingdom in Ithin Mur) was a popular elf who was kind, handsome and fairly smart however he was (as Axail never hesitated to point out) slightly vain and didn’t always think through things.
    “Axail!” he exclaimed when he caught sight of her, “good to see you, haven’t seen you in an age!”
    She smiled as she strode up to him, it was true, she reflected, they hadn’t seen each other in a long while. “Oh they keep one busy in the palace,” she replied with a casual shrug.
    “I’m sure they do,” he replied slightly dismissively, “anyway, we got here yesterday, couldn’t see you cause we arrived late, and tomorrow we have to ride all the way to paradise meadows tomorrow, it’s ridiculous we should have gone there on our way here!”
    “I think that your father didn’t go to paradise meadows on the way here cause you would have arrived after the gates closed,” Axail commented, almost, but not quite, sighing aloud at his failure to see logic.
    William though for a long moment then he simply said, “I see.”
    For a few minutes they wandered the shop sometimes picking up bows and putting them down again. Eventually the left the shop, both with a bow and William with a nice quiver of swan fletched arrows.

    The next day Axail, her father, William, and his father rode out towards paradise meadows. William and Axail were riding palace mounts since they would be buying proper steeds there. Axail wasn’t fond of horses and even less fond of the work they evolved, however she knew that no leader would go to battle on foot except by sea or on steep mountains.
    Though her legs were sore within an hour of riding, Axail had an enjoyable time riding through the stunningly beautiful field of untamed wild flowers. She and William raced back and forth as their fathers talked about this and that.
    As they reached paradise meadows Axail was overwhelmed by the sight. Sprawled out in front of her lay rolling hills of bright green were over a thousand unicorns, pegasuses and horses grazed. At the edge of her eyesight where the hills got gradually bigger and were almost small mountains stood a single long skinny speck of black in the distance.
    “How come there isn’t a padlock or a fence?” William asked, “What keeps them here?”
    “Will,” Axail replied sternly, “nobody keeps them here, they are here of their own free will, they are not our slaves nor our servants nor our subjects but our friends and allies who help us out of their goodwill.”
    “Yeah right,” William said snorting.
    “William, you must respect your mount or you will be thrown off,” his father said sternly, much to Axail’s delight.
    “How do we pick our horses,” Axail asked, though she wasn’t to sure about horses, she wanted a decent one.
    “You open your mind to the horses,” her father replied, “and reach out with your consciousness.”
    Though Axail’s shock wasn’t as evident as Williams (who had his mouth hanging wide open) she was stunned. From a very young age every child was taught to shield their mind from magicians, and until they were properly trained to repel such attacks, they shielded their consciousness at all times.
    “But father,” she stuttered, “what if we’re attacked?”
    “Here?” He asked.
    “Good point,” Axail realized he was right, the chances were non-existent.
    She took a deep breath thinking how silly is this, I’m afraid of opening my mind to some horses. NO I AM NOT AFRAID. She breathed out, and opened her thoughts to the horses around her. It was a peculiar feeling, she would say afterward, it feel sort of like your running, but never moving, only spreading larger.
    Axail was concentrating so hard that she never noticed the thousands of horses turning their heads and gazing at her. Most of them put their heads down immediately about a hundred seemed to consider for a moment before returning to their grazing, five or so trotted forward a few steps before changing their minds and going back. Two alone galloped towards her a gorgeous pale white unicorn with silver hooves and a clear silver horn. Beside her galloped a golden brown stallion with gold hooves.
    Both horses slowed to a trot when they neared and they rubbed their heads against Axail, nearly knocking her over.
    She felt their consciousnesses rub against hers and they spoke in her mind, my name is WingFoot daughter of WatterWind, the unicorn whispered.
    And I am SunFleet son of FleetFoot, the stallion declared. We know who you are, their voices blended, you are the one!
    Why do you mean, she answered pulling away in shock.
    “You know,” Axail’s father’s voice interrupted her thoughts, “you should have both, two horses will do you well, especially for long journeys.”
    When she looked up she saw that two horses stood by William, an arrogant looking unicorn with a red coat and a golden horse and a proud looking female unicorn with a silvery coat and a pale golden horn.
    He looked at her and grinned, “This is FireHoof,” he indicated to the male, “and SilverEye,” he patted the female.
    “This is WingFoot,” Axail said, rubbing the horse’s belly, “and FleetFoot.”
    On the ride back they were both silent, communicating with their horses inside their heads. Axail was shocked by the depth of the horse’s minds; befored she had thought them no more than ordinary beasts.