The campfire had burned low, all golden coals and wind-tossed ash, when Solaris approached the general.
Taranis knelt nearby, shoulders hunched. His wrists were bound, but not tight just enough to remind. The black collar still pressed against his neck like a verdict carved in bone. His mask, polished smooth and pitiless, lay beside him like a shadow waiting to return.
“Sir?” Solaris spoke softly. “Are we binding him again tonight?”
Grael didn’t respond at once. He studied the boy or whatever he was becoming with a gaze that weighed survival against prophecy.
“He walks beside the horse now,” Grael said. “Not behind it. That’s earned.”
“But still tethered?”
“Until trust is more than fire and fury.”
Solaris hesitated, then asked more plainly, “And the food? He eats with us now?”
“He eats what he earns,” Grael said. “He trains. He serves. He carries burdens. So we feed him as one of the line half rations until proven otherwise. If he bleeds for us again, the portions grow. But he’s no beggar. He earns it.”
Taranis stirred. His voice cracked when he spoke.
“Now I’ve got one foot in both worlds… the world of a chosen, and one of an outcast. One step wrong, and I’m whipped or worse. One step right, and they carve my name into stone.”
Solaris frowned. “But the mask…”
Grael stepped closer. He picked it up and turned it over in his hand.
“We remove it when he fights. When he trains. When he speaks with command. But in towns and camps?” He pressed it gently to the boy’s face. “It reminds him and us of what he was forged from.”
“Forged?” Solaris echoed. “Or broken?”
Grael didn’t blink. “Both.”
“And can he see through it?”
“Barely. But that’s the point. To teach him to listen more. Feel more. Trust the wind and the wolves.”
The fire cracked.
Solaris stepped back, watching as the leather straps were tightened once more.
“And when does it come off for good?”
“When the storm calls him by name,” Grael said.
“And if it never does?”
Grael didn’t answer.
The wind howled across the ridge sharp and ancient.
And far above, in the swirling clouds, something winged and watching passed through the sky without sound.
By E.L. Hewitt StormborneLore
Thank you for reading.© 2025 Emma Hewitt / StormborneLore. All rights reserved.Unauthorized copying or reproduction of this content is prohibited.
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To read more taranis stories please see The Prophecies and Tales of Taranis Unfolded
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