Page 115 of The Daughter of the Scarred Elf

She could only nod. The reins slipped from her trembling hands and she fumbled with the leather material for a few seconds, her heart hammering in her chest. This would be her first battle in a war. Would she find the half-elf there? What about Hilda?

“You’ll be—” Gunnar closed his mouth. He probably wanted to say something encouraging, but war was always chaotic and unexpected. There was no telling if she would truly be okay. So instead, he said, “Believe in your powers. Trust in that.”

In minutes, orders rang out that they would be joining in battle soon. Kolfinna’s palms dampened and her ribcage felt like it would constrict itself.

It wasn’t until ten minutes later that they entered the battlefield, with Fort Aggersborg in the distance.

Kolfinna could make out flying, winged figures in the sky, could see the devastation of the fields in front of the looming fort. Lightning cracked in the sky, followed by the smell of burning material, but the fae were faster and were evading it easily. Bolts of white light and thick, inky shadows waned in and out of the battlefield.

But one of the most confusing things she could make out were giant, stony, earthen creatures marching forward, swiping enormous staffs on the ground and decimating soldiers witheach swing. On top of the stone creatures sat winged fae clad in black armor.

A shiver ran down her spine and if she didn’t know any better, it almost felt like she had stepped into a nightmare. She had never thought to use stone magic in such a way. To make it a vehicle for destruction.

She could hear the sharp inhales from the people beside her. It was a terrifying sight to see—these horrendous giants. And even from the distance, she could make out the bloodied corpses littered on the ground by their feet.

“Onward!” Sijur shouted from somewhere ahead, and a hundred other battle cries joined him.

Kolfinna’s horse raced forward. She unsheathed her sword swiftly, her horse’s hooves clopping on the ground and joining the unison of rushing horses and shouting soldiers.

In minutes, she was in the thick of battle. The first warrior she met was an elf man with blazing red eyes and a mane of white hair. Her sword cut into his shoulder, and his blood-colored eyes turned to her. He didn’t even flinch, even as his blood danced over her blade, even as she yanked it back with a spray of blood.

And why should he? She could see the other wounds on his body from the battle were already healing themselves. It wasn’t enough to take him down. No—she would likely have to pierce his heart or behead him.

A blast of white light shot from his hand and obliterated her horse’s head in seconds. Kolfinna’s world spun as she was flung off her horse. She raised her arms to lessen the damage of the fall, but she still crashed onto the ground violently. She rolled and rolled and collided with a group of soldiers. She didn’t even know whose side they were on until she met the purple-colored eyes of a soldier through his black helmet.

His sword came down to meet her.

Kolfinna raised her own hand in time. A dozen deeply nested roots sprang from beneath her and struck the soldier in the chest with their sharpened tips. He faltered backward, his hands going to the dents in his armor.

She was already moving to the next soldier. Her vines whipped around her protectively. The other fae lurched back in surprise and she heard a few shouts and grunts when they were slapped across the face, or when the roots tore through their skin.

Kolfinna had improved her sword skills, but this was where she truly shined—when using her nature abilities.

Strike after strike, she continued to hit the elf and fae soldiers alike.

Streaks of fire and lightning sparked in her peripheral vision.

Waves of chilly air pervaded the battle, signaling to her that Blár was fighting. It calmed her nerves to know that he was out there, in this heavy battle. That he was well and alive, judging by the coldness of his powers. No matter how desperate the situation looked, so long as he was there, they stood a chance.

Kolfinna fell into a steady rhythm of battle; strike, strike, dodge. She barreled through soldier after soldier. Even as swords cut her or she was knocked down to her feet, she jumped back up and continued her assault. Her small scrapes healed almost immediately.

The elves were trickier to fight—they healed just like her. But she wasn’t trying to kill everyone she met. She was just trying to survive. Trying to make it past another soldier and then another.

Every time she faced a male elf, her mind stuttered at a singular thought: was this the half-elf commander?

But every time, the elf male wasn’t as terrifying or overpoweringly strong like the nightmarish man she had read about.Not this one, she kept telling herself.

And she truly hoped she didn’t see him at all.

“Kolfinna!” A flare of blue fire caught Kolfinna’s attention and Herja yanked her hand out of the chest cavity of a dead, burning fae warrior. Her bright blue eyes landed on Kolfinna, and the relief there was immense.

Strange. Herja was neverthishappy to see her.

“What is it?” Kolfinna shouted as she sent an elf soldier staggering back with a torrent of gnarled vines that tore at his helmet.

“There are sections of the battlefield that are marked with runes! The soldiers in those areas can’t use magic. We need you to break them!” Her words came out in a single breath as she shot balls of fire from her palms. “I can lead the way!”

Kolfinna whipped her sword out of a soldier’s leg and whirled around. “Let’s go!”

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