“They are waiting for you, Arkanah.” My brother, Zane, walked into my tent. Thankful I was dressed as I turned towards him. He looked as every Equaddian warrior should, dressed in leather armor that allowed us to move freely. Zane is every Equaddian women’s dream, with broad shoulders and a golden tan. He is almost six foot three, only four inches higher than me. His shoulder length brown hair, the color freshly ground coffee, was pulled back and his emerald green eyes shown like the sun.
“I‘d hate to make the people wait.” I smiled as I grabbed my sword, holding it high. “Today is a day of change, Zane. I can feel it in my heart and soul.”
“Well you need to get that heart and soul into gear. The Pantherian army will be nearing the battle point soon.“ He laughed, a deep sound that was as familiar to me as the morning sun, then tenderly admitted. “It is useful, sister, for your confidence to seep through out bond, because, though I hate to admit, I am a little scared.”
Out of the two of us, Zane has always been the one to want peace and quiet, never liking the idea of fighting. The only reason he was here with me now was because of me. He wanted to stay by my side through thick and thin. Me, on the other hand, I was trained to fight. I lived to fight beside my people, protecting them from the tyrants at our backdoor.
“You are not scared, Arkanah.” He whispered, his eyes glued to the floor.
Feeling concerned for my brother, I stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. Zane and I are twins, and the bond we share cannot be broken. I smiled a tentative smile, but I knew that there was a gleam in my eyes of fear and determination. “Yes. I am petrified. One would be foolish not to be afraid of dying, but the important thing is that you have to be strong. If the enemy should see that weakness in you, they may take it to their advantage. I will give my life to protect my people, and I know that the people will give their lives to protect their heirs. We are the last two, Zane. Our of our three older siblings and two younger, we are all that remain. We must defend our nation and our people from tyranny and those who want the see this nation shatter. Should we fail, my brother, then the world as we know it will burn.”
“I know. I love you, Arkanah.” He reached up and put one of his strong hands on my own shoulder, a symbol of respect to my people, and then he gripped my forearm with his left hand when I held it out to him. “Ride well, my sister.”
“Ride well, brother.” He followed me out to where I faced my people. Ares stood off to the side, looking battle-ready and tense. His golden blonde hair waved in the brief wind, making it look a little messy. His normally bright blue eyes were dark with anticipation of the up and coming battle. Ares looked much like Zane in a way, with broad, strong shoulders, his whole body muscled to perfection, and a golden tan. He was even about as tall as him. In his right hand he held the leather reins to my horse. One of the largest besides my brother‘s dun Quarter horse, Eclipse has a coat of fire and a mane and tail of silken magnolia. Though I can take my Arabian horse form anytime I wish, I choose to ride into battle on my Thoroughbred stallion. I swing my leg up and over the western style saddle, taking the reins in my steady hands and turning him towards my soldiers. I waited for them to quiet down before I spoke, and when I did, my voice came out clear and fervent like the first golden rays of the sun in the morning.
“My brothers and sister,” I looked over the crowd, all of them faces that I knew. Charlotte has two young fillies back home, with her husband taking care of them. Captain George of the third herd division has a niece that is about to get married, as well as an anxious wife that awaits for him either to come home safe or to receive notice of his death. They all hold their heads high, listening to their princess’s words. Behind me, I heard Zane mount up onto his dun stallion before he rides up beside me.
“You know why we are here. For as long as our ancestors remember, when Lady Epona first raised from the ashes like a great phoenix and taught our people how to transform, there has been trials and heart-aches. I stand before you today, not as your monarch or your princess. No, I stand beside you as a warrior, protecting what is mine and yours.”
My brother’s voice spoke out, strong and clear as the eastern wind that blows from the ice mountains. “We run into battle, our heads high and I hearts powerful. We may be a small nation, but we are large in bravery. The Pantherians will meet their match when we clash on the battlefield. I will not sugar coat the truth, for that is not why I am here. A prince must there for his people, for his country. Some of us will not make it out of there alive. Some will not remember what it is that my sister and I say here today, but they will never forget who we are.”
Then my brother and I both sang out together. “Ride well.”
And they returned it with a respectful bow of their heads with their right fists over their hearts. “Ride well.”

At the top of the hill, we awaited for the Pantherian army to get closer. We were downwind of them, watching as they traveled closer. I could easily spot their leaders out in front. Eclipse was a quivering bunch of nerves beneath me, so I placed my hand on his neck. I breathed in the scent of the earth, the damp leaves and musty decay of trees beneath the soil, sending it through me to him so that he could calm down. The battle clothes I wear are snug, providing protection as well as comfort and mobility. The pants are deer hide, tight on my thighs but a little looser in the calves. Knee high, brown leather boots were tucked over the pants legs, with two daggers placed securely in them. The top I had on was made of the same material as the pants, the sleeved two inched on my shoulders and the body of it cropped just below my navel. A leather arm band decorated both of my upper arms, engraved with galloping horses. War paint the color of pine needles curled over my skin, creating intricate twists and curls that started at my forehead and ended at my fingertips. My brown hair was pulled back into a high ponytail.
I looked over to Ares, who was knelt on the ground in his palomino horse form. He caught me watch him and he nodded his golden head in respect. Then he tossed his head, sending his snow white mane flying. I turned my head to my brother, who was next to me. “Are you ready?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yes. You have all of your weapons, right?” I saw all of his, but I double checked to make sure that I had mine. My ruby embedded and gold handled sword that belonged to my father was resting in its ebony sheath at the left side of my waist. The oaken bow was in my right hand with the quiver of poison-tipped arrows on my back. Two of the three daggers were in my each of boots and another was strapped to my right thigh.
“Yes. I have everything.” I looked back towards the advancing Pantherians and caught sight of their prince. He rode out in front, dressed in all black and riding a black Arabian stallion. His hair was the color of polished onyx and his eyes are just as dark. Beside him on a white gelding was a red haired woman to whom I did not know. She was fair skinned, using her hands as she talked to her prince. This was a surprise attack, and luckily they had not caught out scent yet.
Like a Equaddian is known for their speed, Pantherians are known for their sense of smell. Like their cat counter-parts, they have an extremely good sense of smell, sight, and hearing. Though not all of the Pantherians are actually panthers, they all can obtain a cat shape such as tigers, lions, lynxes. It is their royal family that is made up entirely of panthers. Equaddians are the same, but our name does not rely on the royal family. The whole Arabianna line is Arabian, proud and noble.
I held my hand up, waiting to give the signal. Just a little bit more and they will be in the trap. Another group of warriors were sneaking around the back as we spoke. I could just barely see them as the snuck stealthily. Then all hell broke loose.
One of the Pantherians let out a warning shout, letting the others know that they were being dogged. They all went into fighting mode, turning to meet the second division. That was when I let out the signal, and like bats out of hell, we raced down the hill to meet the cats.

I would tell you that I was not terrified for my life, but that would be an absolute lie. Heart-wrenching screams of torture echoed through the scorched trees, loud and long, filled with agony and pain. I do not really remember much about the fight, really. When there is a matter of life or dead, and it is your life on the line, fight or flight kicks in. I chose fight, and fight I did. I recall riding into battle on Eclipse, a warrior call in my throat. I saw their shocked faces when they realized that they were surrounded and my brother raced ahead of me to meet the panther prince head on, and from there on everything is bits and pieces.
Now the fight is over, and I suffer only a few wounds. There is a gash along my forearm where a tiger send his claws into me. Somehow the fight had moved from the field to the forest, and during the battle fire from a broken lantern erupted. The woods burned as the night began to fall, creating bright orange and red flames that were still licking their way up the trees. Everything was embers and ashes as I walked through the wreckage. The smell of blood and charred bodies lifted their way to my nose and bile rose in my throat. The warm blood of my people rested here and there where the fire did not reach, and then there was the cool blood of the Pantherian that seemed to want to melt me if I touched it. I was searching for Zane, Ares, and any other of my warriors when a gut wrenching yell rang through the seared forest.
I turned my head towards the sound, but then it suddenly died. Someone else’s life as ended. I stepped over a fallen log, but then I had to leap out of the way of a flaming tree as it was coming down. When I leapt back, I rolled off into a ravine. I rolled over rocks and two bodies, one Pantherian and another Equaddian, before I hit the ground hard. I landed in a a small creek, surrounded by sticky red blood and crimson tinted mud. The wet sounds of someone taking their last breath met my sensitive ears, as well as someone whispering to them, soft words of reassurance. I crawled as quietly as I could underneath a bush so that I could see a little, afraid of what the scene would hold. There was a man who had his back to me. His shirt was torn, a slash going down from his left shoulder to his waist, showing a bit of ripped and bloody pale skin, Pantherian skin. I gripped the dagger that I had managed to keep with me in my left hand, wincing when a bolt of pain shot up my arm from a fractured bone in my wrist. Smoothly I swapped hands and got to my feet all in one maneuver, as quiet as the smoke drifting through the leaves. I stepped forward and heard the cat’s words.
“It is going to be okay.” He said. With his back towards me, he was in the way of the wounded soldier. I crept forward a little and caught a bit of the wounded man’s weak statement.
“Tell my sister,” there was a groan and a cut off shutter, “that I love her.”
There was something in me that snapped then, and I suddenly dropped my dagger. With those words, the man died, and a terrible pain exploded in my chest, almost unbearable. The black garmented man leapt over the body, but after that I paid him no attention. All of my attention was on Zane. His long brown hair was a mass of tangles and blood. He had a cut on his right cheek, a wound on his left arm, and worst of all, a jagged cut across his stomach, the most painful and mortal of wounds. I stepped forward, trying hard to keep my reserve, but it was quickly slipping. I looked up at the man who had watched over my brother in his last moments and caught the dark blue to almost black eyes of the Pantheria royal line.
Anger could not even replace the pain I felt. Red tinged tears fell from my darkened green eyes as I faced my sworn enemy with my brother in the middle. Choking sobs rose up my throat, making it hard to breathe. I fell to my knees beside the last of my siblings, stroking back his hair. The pain was still there, resistant to go away, like the burning flames of the forest, it simmered slowly in my soul, leaving behind torment.
“He loves you.” I heard someone say, but when I looked up, no one was there.
Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes to hours before we were found. I had laid down beside my twin, my head on his chest, crying until I fell asleep. When I woke, I was in Ares’s arms, being toted back to camp.
“Ares.” I managed to choke out, causing a fresh stream of tears to fall down my mud and blood caked face. “I’m the last Ares.”
All he could do was nod his head. His face was grim, masking the sorrow he felt. My brother and he had been good friends, knowing each other all of their lives. His eyes told it all, though, filled with an immense amount of anguish and suffering, more than likely similar to mine at that moment. I could not even feel my wounds, though I knew they were there. Infection had probably settled in due to the all or mud and other bacteria when I fell. There was like a huge gaping hole had ripped from my chest, leaving nothing but stark emptiness.
“I never got to say goodbye.” I cried, my lips and chin quivering slightly. I turned my face into the hollow of his neck, leaning my ear against his heart to be lulled to sleep my its steady beat.


I would tell you that I was not terrified for my life, but that would be an absolute lie. Heart-wrenching screams of torture echoed through the scorched trees, loud and long, filled with agony and pain. I do not really remember much about the fight, really. When there is a matter of life or dead, and it is your life on the line, fight or flight kicks in. I chose fight, and fight I did. I recall riding into battle on Eclipse, a warrior call in my throat. I saw their shocked faces when they realized that they were surrounded and my brother raced ahead of me to meet the panther prince head on, and from there on everything is bits and pieces.
Now the fight is over, and I suffer only a few wounds. There is a gash along my forearm where a tiger send his claws into me. Somehow the fight had moved from the field to the forest, and during the battle fire from a broken lantern erupted. The woods burned as the night began to fall, creating bright orange and red flames that were still licking their way up the trees. Everything was embers and ashes as I walked through the wreckage. The smell of blood and charred bodies lifted their way to my nose and bile rose in my throat. The warm blood of my people rested here and there where the fire did not reach, and then there was the cool blood of the Pantherian that seemed to want to melt me if I touched it. I was searching for Zane, Ares, and any other of my warriors when a gut wrenching yell rang through the seared forest.
I turned my head towards the sound, but then it suddenly died. Someone else’s life as ended. I stepped over a fallen log, but then I had to leap out of the way of a flaming tree as it was coming down. When I leapt back, I rolled off into a ravine. I rolled over rocks and two bodies, one Pantherian and another Equaddian, before I hit the ground hard. I landed in a a small creek, surrounded by sticky red blood and crimson tinted mud. The wet sounds of someone taking their last breath met my sensitive ears, as well as someone whispering to them, soft words of reassurance. I crawled as quietly as I could underneath a bush so that I could see a little, afraid of what the scene would hold. There was a man who had his back to me. His shirt was torn, a slash going down from his left shoulder to his waist, showing a bit of ripped and bloody pale skin, Pantherian skin. I gripped the dagger that I had managed to keep with me in my left hand, wincing when a bolt of pain shot up my arm from a fractured bone in my wrist. Smoothly I swapped hands and got to my feet all in one maneuver, as quiet as the smoke drifting through the leaves. I stepped forward and heard the cat’s words.
“It is going to be okay.” He said. With his back towards me, he was in the way of the wounded soldier. I crept forward a little and caught a bit of the wounded man’s weak statement.
“Tell my sister,” there was a groan and a cut off shutter, “that I love her.”
There was something in me that snapped then, and I suddenly dropped my dagger. With those words, the man died, and a terrible pain exploded in my chest, almost unbearable. The black garmented man leapt over the body, but after that I paid him no attention. All of my attention was on Zane. His long brown hair was a mass of tangles and blood. He had a cut on his right cheek, a wound on his left arm, and worst of all, a jagged cut across his stomach, the most painful and mortal of wounds. I stepped forward, trying hard to keep my reserve, but it was quickly slipping. I looked up at the man who had watched over my brother in his last moments and caught the dark blue to almost black eyes of the Pantheria royal line.
Anger could not even replace the pain I felt. Red tinged tears fell from my darkened green eyes as I faced my sworn enemy with my brother in the middle. Choking sobs rose up my throat, making it hard to breathe. I fell to my knees beside the last of my siblings, stroking back his hair. The pain was still there, resistant to go away, like the burning flames of the forest, it simmered slowly in my soul, leaving behind torment.
“He loves you.” I heard someone say, but when I looked up, no one was there.
Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes to hours before we were found. I had laid down beside my twin, my head on his chest, crying until I fell asleep. When I woke, I was in Ares’s arms, being toted back to camp.
“Ares.” I managed to choke out, causing a fresh stream of tears to fall down my mud and blood caked face. “I’m the last Ares.”
All he could do was nod his head. His face was grim, masking the sorrow he felt. My brother and he had been good friends, knowing each other all of their lives. His eyes told it all, though, filled with an immense amount of anguish and suffering, more than likely similar to mine at that moment. I could not even feel my wounds, though I knew they were there. Infection had probably settled in due to the all or mud and other bacteria when I fell. There was like a huge gaping hole had ripped from my chest, leaving nothing but stark emptiness.
“I never got to say goodbye.” I cried, my lips and chin quivering slightly. I turned my face into the hollow of his neck, leaning my ear against his heart to be lulled to sleep my its steady beat.


In my dream, it always shifted from one scene to another. The first one was of my and Zane playing in a field with out father. He was in his horse form, a aw-inspiring white stallion. Zane and I were no younger than perhaps five. We were prancing around, thankful to be out of the confines of the palace walls, when Pantherians attacked. That day our father was killed. The next scene was the day Ares’s father died. He was devastated and ran off to prove everyone wrong. Being the friend that I was, I went after him. When I had found him, he was beside his father’s body, years streaking his face. He had turned to me and then leapt after me. At first, I had thought he was attacking me, but then he ran past me and into a Pantherian who was about to kill me. Ares suffered a cut along his face, from his right jaw to the corner of his mouth, where it is now scared.
Just as the next sequence was about to take place, something tugged at me. I looked up and saw a figure standing beside my bed, his hand caressing my cheek. At first, I thought it was still a dream, but as I began to wake up more, I caught myself reaching for the stiletto laying on my bedside table.
“Who are you?” I sneered as he jumped back towards the window, where he was silhouetted against the light of the full moon.
The visitor bowed his head and looked at me with sorrowful eyes. “You have been through so much, Princess Arkanah.”
“I will ask one more time. Who are you?” I stood on the floor now, the cool wood beneath my bare feet.
“I have to go, princess.” With that he climbed agilely out of the window and disappeared without so much as another sound. I ran forward and saw something moving like a shadow in the darkness, sleek and fluid. The man in my room was a panther. Ares came in, ready for anything. I turned towards him as he lit the lantern beside my bed.
“Is everything okay, Anna?” He lapsed into the informal use on my nickname when no others were around. He gave me it when we were kids, just colts and fillies really. He had told me that my formal names, Arkanah or Arabianna, were too much of a mouthful.
“Dreams, Ares. Just dreams.” I stared out into the night, expecting to see the reflection of cat eyes, but witnessed nothing but the moon shining in the night sky and a hungry owl hunting its prey. Was that what my visitor had been doing, hunting? I listened Ares close the door quietly before making his way beside me.
“I can save you from panthers, tigers, and lions; the dreams is what scares me. I do not know how I can stop them.” He was genuinely concerned.
“Mother wants me to take the throne on my next birthday.” I explained what she told me, how she was tired of war. Then I lifted my eyes to his, dead serious when I say, “Ares, I would honestly slit my own throat if I thought that if would end this stupid war. We fight because we avenge the deaths of our loved ones, so on it goes. I am haunted by dreams after dreams where I kneel on the blood-stained battle field, screaming out to Epona as I hold a child in my arms.”
I put my head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around me. “You are so strong, Anna.”
I turned my head to that I could look out and into the night, and I swear I saw a flash on gold eyes blink at me three times and then vanish.

When I awoke the next morning, I was sore and tired from yesterdays events. The shock that I was not without a brother was just now settling in and believe me, I felt it in every bone in my body; a stiff feeling of loneliness. It haunted my every thought, a dark shadow that lingered over my shoulder. The vast cavity in my chest still lingered. I looked out my window, memories of last night coming to mind; my dreams, the talk with Ares, and then my midnight visitor.
There was a pounding on my door that made me jump two feet from the floor. “Arkanah, open the door!”
It was one of the guards. Swiftly, I jerked it open, standing there in front of them in my floor length flannel night gown. Jorden was a member of the royal guard, part of Ares’s herd. He has bright red hair that curled down to his shoulders and bright sea green eyes. “Is everything okay, Jorden?”
“Lady Arabianna, you are needed in court yard immediately.” He said, his fist over his heart and bowing at the waist, as was custom for my people to greet one of the royal family. I turned and ran to my wardrobe, pulling out a kimono. The kimono was a gift from a trader a few years back. The fabric was a deep green tone that brought out my emerald eyes, and it had an aquamarine green emblem embroidered onto it, a rearing stallion, which is the symbol of my nation. It ended at the floor, with a split clear up to my thighs, it had no sleeves, and the neck wrapped around my throat.
Jorden shut the door and waited outside while I got dressed. I pulled the nightgown over my head, trading it for a turquoise tank top and a pair of white silk slacks. Next came the kimono over it, sliding silk over silk. I grabbed my amulet from the draw in my side table, wondering briefly why the thief from last night had not taken it.
I practically ran out of the room barefooted with Jorden at my heels. “What could possible be so important that you all had to hype up security?” I asked, eyeing the guards everywhere.
“Milady,” his tone made me stop to look at him. “Ares was taken last night, someone broke into the castle and kidnapped him.”


In my dream, it always shifted from one scene to another. The first one was of my and Zane playing in a field with out father. He was in his horse form, a aw-inspiring white stallion. Zane and I were no younger than perhaps five. We were prancing around, thankful to be out of the confines of the palace walls, when Pantherians attacked. That day our father was killed. The next scene was the day Ares’s father died. He was devastated and ran off to prove everyone wrong. Being the friend that I was, I went after him. When I had found him, he was beside his father’s body, years streaking his face. He had turned to me and then leapt after me. At first, I had thought he was attacking me, but then he ran past me and into a Pantherian who was about to kill me. Ares suffered a cut along his face, from his right jaw to the corner of his mouth, where it is now scared.
Just as the next sequence was about to take place, something tugged at me. I looked up and saw a figure standing beside my bed, his hand caressing my cheek. At first, I thought it was still a dream, but as I began to wake up more, I caught myself reaching for the stiletto laying on my bedside table.
“Who are you?” I sneered as he jumped back towards the window, where he was silhouetted against the light of the full moon.
The visitor bowed his head and looked at me with sorrowful eyes. “You have been through so much, Princess Arkanah.”
“I will ask one more time. Who are you?” I stood on the floor now, the cool wood beneath my bare feet.
“I have to go, princess.” With that he climbed agilely out of the window and disappeared without so much as another sound. I ran forward and saw something moving like a shadow in the darkness, sleek and fluid. The man in my room was a panther. Ares came in, ready for anything. I turned towards him as he lit the lantern beside my bed.
“Is everything okay, Anna?” He lapsed into the informal use on my nickname when no others were around. He gave me it when we were kids, just colts and fillies really. He had told me that my formal names, Arkanah or Arabianna, were too much of a mouthful.
“Dreams, Ares. Just dreams.” I stared out into the night, expecting to see the reflection of cat eyes, but witnessed nothing but the moon shining in the night sky and a hungry owl hunting its prey. Was that what my visitor had been doing, hunting? I listened Ares close the door quietly before making his way beside me.
“I can save you from panthers, tigers, and lions; the dreams is what scares me. I do not know how I can stop them.” He was genuinely concerned.
“Mother wants me to take the throne on my next birthday.” I explained what she told me, how she was tired of war. Then I lifted my eyes to his, dead serious when I say, “Ares, I would honestly slit my own throat if I thought that if would end this stupid war. We fight because we avenge the deaths of our loved ones, so on it goes. I am haunted by dreams after dreams where I kneel on the blood-stained battle field, screaming out to Epona as I hold a child in my arms.”
I put my head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around me. “You are so strong, Anna.”
I turned my head to that I could look out and into the night, and I swear I saw a flash on gold eyes blink at me three times and then vanish.

When I awoke the next morning, I was sore and tired from yesterdays events. The shock that I was not without a brother was just now settling in and believe me, I felt it in every bone in my body; a stiff feeling of loneliness. It haunted my every thought, a dark shadow that lingered over my shoulder. The vast cavity in my chest still lingered. I looked out my window, memories of last night coming to mind; my dreams, the talk with Ares, and then my midnight visitor.
There was a pounding on my door that made me jump two feet from the floor. “Arkanah, open the door!”
It was one of the guards. Swiftly, I jerked it open, standing there in front of them in my floor length flannel night gown. Jorden was a member of the royal guard, part of Ares’s herd. He has bright red hair that curled down to his shoulders and bright sea green eyes. “Is everything okay, Jorden?”
“Lady Arabianna, you are needed in court yard immediately.” He said, his fist over his heart and bowing at the waist, as was custom for my people to greet one of the royal family. I turned and ran to my wardrobe, pulling out a kimono. The kimono was a gift from a trader a few years back. The fabric was a deep green tone that brought out my emerald eyes, and it had an aquamarine green emblem embroidered onto it, a rearing stallion, which is the symbol of my nation. It ended at the floor, with a split clear up to my thighs, it had no sleeves, and the neck wrapped around my throat.
Jorden shut the door and waited outside while I got dressed. I pulled the nightgown over my head, trading it for a turquoise tank top and a pair of white silk slacks. Next came the kimono over it, sliding silk over silk. I grabbed my amulet from the draw in my side table, wondering briefly why the thief from last night had not taken it.
I practically ran out of the room barefooted with Jorden at my heels. “What could possible be so important that you all had to hype up security?” I asked, eyeing the guards everywhere.
“Milady,” his tone made me stop to look at him. “Ares was taken last night, someone broke into the castle and kidnapped him.”

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 25.02.2010

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This is dedicated to my sisters, and to all the people on booksie who read this and said that it was good. It is by the comments and pressure of my readers that make me continue to write.