The Tuileflaith, an unrivaled bow for my unrivaled daughter

The King of Corbenic, Túathal, strode towards them in deep green royal regalia lined with gold. A sword hung from his side, no doubt used in many battles. A gold crown sat upon his head, nestled atop long, wavy, dark brown hair. His black-colored eyes held firm on the strange boy bowing aside his daughter.

“I missed you at breakfast, my snowflake, and now I see you with a boy. Should I be concerned?” Túathal wondered in a teasing tone. Despite his large size, a frame built for war, he seemed more jovial than intimidating.

“F-Father!” Aislinn stammered, her cheeks becoming the color of an apple. Rowan didn’t dare stand straight, even though his back was beginning to strain.

Túathal gave a hearty laugh. “Stand, boy. Tell me your name.”

Rowan stood up and held his hands at his sides. “Rowan, Your Highness.” He introduced himself in the most proper tone of voice he could. The king held out his hand, prompting Rowan to take it. The larger man stared into his soul, unnerving Rowan.

“A worker’s hand. A scholar’s eyes. The free gait of a man who seeks the horizon.” Túathal took measure of his daughter’s friend.

“Y-yes, well,” Aislinn tried to interject.

“Is he your companion for the Festival of Sídmaith?” The king inquired, never once releasing Rowan’s hand.

Aislinn’s blush deepened. “Yes! We were just discussing it. The second princess should have someone with her to celebrate our kingdom’s founding.” She went along with her father’s line of thought, anything to end the awkward encounter.

“I agree. I always felt bad that you never had someone on your arm.” Túathal spoke. His grip tightened on Rowan’s hand, a silent warning not to do anything foolish with his beloved daughter. Rowan’s own grip tightened, not as a form of disrespect, but as proof of strength and a backbone.

The king gave another hearty laugh and released Rowan’s hand. He turned to face his daughter and offered a warm smile. “I brought you something, a gift I know you’ve wanted for some time.” He waved a servant closer and received an ornate gold and silver bow with an accompanying quiver of arrows. “The Tuileflaith, an unrivaled bow for my unrivaled daughter.”

Aislinn accepted the bow and marveled at it. She felt the magic spark against her fingers. “Father…thank you!” She wrapped her arms around the king in a warm embrace. Túathal responded in kind. She released him and wore the bow and quiver on her back. “I’ll put this to use on our ride.”

“See that you do,” Túathal replied with a smile. He watched and waved as his daughter and her friend mounted their horses and rode out beyond the gate and his sight.

A question began gnawing at Rowan as he and Aislinn rode out of the capital. “The book never mentioned that your nickname is ‘Snowflake.’ Where did that come from? He asked in a teasing voice.

Aislinn blushed once again and glared at him. “I liked playing in the snow when I was a child. I would spend all day outside and would barely wait for my parents to wrap me in a coat. They said my hair resembled the pure snow.” She seemed embarrassed by her father’s doting nature.

Rowan briefly laughed. “I like it. It’s a cute pet name.”

Aislinn looked ahead and scoffed. “One that you shall never use.”

He chuckled in reply. “Fair enough, Snowy,” she briefly glared at him. “What’s the Festival of Sídmaith? I’ve never heard of it.”

Aislinn looked almost sorrowful. “That’s lost to time as well, is it?” She muttered. “It’s the celebration of Corbenic’s founding. We will mark the one thousandth year of her founding two days from now. It’s an important event.”

Rowan sensed her sadness. He lost his home to demons, and she learned that her home would disappear into time itself. “What should I wear to this most auspicious of events?” A bit of levity to raise her spirits.

“I believe a gag would suit you nicely,” Aislinn replied, barely able to contain her laughter.

“Hey!” Rowan snapped with a large smile on his face. The two laughed as they rode together. Aislinn enjoyed seeing Rowan’s spirit lift.

He looked past her to the great dragon carving on the mountain and felt excitement build inside him. “Hey, what do you know about that dragon on the side of the mountain? Information about it has been lost forever, and we only have half-baked theories.”

“Oh?” She looked at the mountain, then back at him. “That is a carving of the great dragon Raghnall. My ancestor, King Túathal’s ancestor, carved it in Raghnall’s honor after he appeared during a battle against Aonghas’s forces. They could not have won without Raghnall’s aid, and so he is honored to this day as a great savior,” she explained. “I’m glad to see he yet stands even in your time.”

“Yeah. He used to scare me when I was younger, but I got used to him when I grew up. Now I just think he looks really cool.” Rowan admitted.

“Cool? I would assume the stone is quite cool to the touch, given its great height.” Aislinn seemed bewildered by his modern terms.

“Oh, in my time, ‘cool’ is just another word for ‘good,’ something you like. It doesn’t always give a temperature reading.” He explained.

Rowan’s mood darkened as they crossed over a bridge, and he thought about his family. “My father’s garage is going to be built around here. My house is going to be way over there,” he pointed in the distance.

Aislinn pulled her horse closer to him so she could rest her hand on his shoulder. “Both will still stand when you return home. Your family will greet you warmly when you walk through the doors. I swear this to the depths of my soul, Rowan.”

He put his hand on hers and offered a smile. “Thanks, Aislinn. You saved the world before, I’m sure you can do it again.” He briefly chuckled.

“No, this will be the first time I’ve saved the world. You’ll have to become an actual scholar and write what happens to correct the fiction people have read about me.” Aislinn playfully reminded him.

Her hand lingered for a moment or two more before she pulled it away. They reached the edge of Siofra Forest. The horses stopped and awaited further command. “I sense dread, as though Aonghas himself has touched this sacred forest,” Aislinn told him. The plants looked stained with darkness, and the animals, if they still lived in the forest, were silent.

Aislinn dismounted, followed by Rowan. “Go back home, take your new friend with you,” she instructed her horse. The two turned around and galloped back to the castle. “We can’t risk them, we’ll go in on foot.” She led the way into the corrupted forest. Rowan fell into step beside her, ready to fight anything that might attack them.