Page 110 of The Daughter of the Scarred Elf

She wouldn’t have to deal with Sijur and the rune mark if she stayed behind.

But that also meant leaving everyone as they went to battle—Inkeri, Ivar, Herja, Gunnar, Eluf, and most of all, Blár. She was also very sure that staying behind would mean just waiting for the half-elf commander’s army to return for her.

As much as Kolfinna wanted to fall back on old habits and run away, she couldn’t. She didn’t want to leave Blár or anyone else. She didn’t want to face the half-elf’s people by herself. She didn’t want to sit back and do nothing to erase the mark binding her to Sijur.

“I’ll go,” she whispered.

Sijur smiled, a hint of surprise on his face. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, her resolve growing sharper and stronger. She met his gaze levelly. “I’ll go to war with you.”

25

They setout to the southern border in the morning, just like Sijur had said they would. Kolfinna’s nerves were shot through the roof, but she moved forward, one step at a time, refusing to look at the looming threats all around her—Hilda, the hunters, Rakel, the half-elf, Ragnarök, Sijur, and the list went on and on.

Putting on the heavy chainmail and metal armor with Rosain’s lion and rose insignia reinforced that she was going towar.

Her only solace was that she was traveling with Blár, Inkeri, Ivar, and the rest of their group. She didn’t want to be alone with the other members of the army, who very clearly didn’t want her there.

By the end of the fourth day when the party set up camp, Kolfinna was too worn out from riding her horse that she didn’t even think about anything but sleep. She yanked her metal helmet off her head and placed it by her feet like the others were doing.

The flames of the campfire rose, fell, and swayed in tune with the blustering wind. Kolfinna tightened her cloak over her body, the fur lining brushing against her cheeks and tickling her nose. Night canopied their camp. They would be on their wayagain tomorrow and according to Eluf, they would reach Fort Aggersborg in a day—maybe two if they took any more breaks.

Little pockets of soldiers were scattered in the open fields of dead grass and barren trees. Ivar sat across from the fire, taking an occasional swig from his canister. There was a slightly reddish hue across his cheeks and nose, which could only mean he was drinking. Herja was chatting with Gunnar while he sharpened his dagger against another dagger. Blár and Eluf stared silently at the fire, and Inkeri was stitching up a tear on one of her shirts.

Kolfinna carefully braided her hair, unbraided it, and braided it again. It was a nice distraction for what was to come. She had never been on a true battlefield before, so she could only imagine how chaotic it would be.

“Ivar, did you—” Inkeri’s words faltered on her lips. Her nose crinkled. “Wait, are youdrinking?”

Ivar smirked and brought the rim of the canister to his lips. “And if I am?”

“Ivar, we’re going to go into battle soon! How can you just …drink?”

“Easy.” He raised the canister, gave it a shake, and then took a swig. “Like this.”

“You’re such a moron,” she hissed. “So irresponsible?—”

“Oh, shut up,” he said with a scowl. “You’re not my mother.”

Kolfinna had to agree with Inkeri on this one. “Wouldn’t it be bad if we get attacked while you’re drunk?”

“I’m not drinking much.” He lowered his drink, his blue-green eyes appearing orange in the firelight. “I just need enough to calm my nerves.”

So even he got nervous during battle. It was reassuring.

Inkeri and Ivar both continued to bicker and Kolfinna watched with mild curiosity. Now that she knew they both liked each other—maybe evenlovedeach other—it was strange seeingtheir interactions. Especially since neither of them seemed to know about the other’s feelings, or they simply didn’t want to acknowledge them.

Kolfinna picked up a rock by her feet and twisted it in her hand distractedly. Carefully, she began chipping away at it with her magic. Piece by piece, it slowly transformed from a clunky, faceted rock to a very crude flower. The petals were deformed and shaped strangely, and the stem was a tad too thin, but it was better than when she had first tried to make anything with her stone magic.

“What’s that supposed to be?” She hadn’t noticed that Blár was watching.

“A flower.” She held out the rock for him. “Here.”

“A flower?” He took the carved rock and turned it over in his hands. “Not to be an asshole, but this is a shitty flower.”

Kolfinna frowned, her face flushing with embarrassment. She didn’t think it lookedthatbad. “I’m practicing my mana manipulation.”

“Huh. It’s a good thing you’re a soldier and not an artist.” Blár raised the rock toward the fire, twisting it around until more light caught against the rough edges. “Eluf, look at this?—”

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