Disclaimer I: This takes place before, during and after Badon Hill. I own nothing except a few characters and parts of the storyline. Because I have my creative license, I'm keeping our favorite knights alive, possibly.
Disclaimer II: The characters are out of character, I'm not happy to admit it. I can only hope that they are true to their character sometimes. Sorry for that.

Freedom and Faith

The carriage bumped along the rarely used path causing the people inside to gasp. The loving couple that had taken me in when they found me six years earlier when I was nothing more than just a baby exchanged nervous glances. The rarely used path and the fact that it was night time was bad enough, but rain poured down onto the carriage as well and created a nearly impossible feat to move two feet forward without a hitch. The driver probably would of pulled over but he knew how important it was that we reached the next village before day break.

My would-be mother Gladys grabbed onto my hands and smiled, her eyes showing fear and worry clearly. I tried to issue a strong smile but my lips were trembling. I was afraid of storms. And even at a young age, I knew that we were in impossible conditions to travel.

Clarence, my father figure, knocked on the top of the carriage, signalling to our driver to just pull over. It would be suicide to try to continue in the conditions, we would try again the moment the rain let up. But the carriage did not slow down. Instead, if seemed to speed up. Clarence mumbled to Gladys to move over and sit with me while he poked the upper half of his body out of the window.

When he came fully back in, his upper half drenched, his face was pale.

"The driver is gone." Gladys gripped onto me and Clarence opened the carriage door, to try to climb to the driver's area and grab the reins.

When he would get up there, he would see that the reins had dropped between the horses and would know that there was no hope. He used his elbow to break through the top of the carriage and climbed back through. Wrapping his arms around his wife and myself, we would wait for the impact that we knew was to come.

The carriage flipped countless times before it finally stopped. Water was pouring in and blood dripped into my eyes. Gladys had died on impact, her neck breaking without feeling any pain. Clarence had wood imbedded into his side and was fading fast. I wiped the blood from my eyes and looked around, hopeless.

Clarence nudged a leather bag into my line of sight and I grasped it. Inside were the contents that he was trying to deliver to the nearest village.

"Run... Loraina." Crying, I made my way out of the side of the carriage which used to be the top. The horses had come unattached and were nowhere to be seen. I stumbled away from the wrecked carriage, unsure of where I was supposed to go, what I was supposed to do.

My feet ached after hours of travel, the rain having stopped and the sun coming up to peek from around the trees. My stomach grumbled and my legs ached. My dress was torn and blood caked every visible inch it seemed. My hands clutched onto the leather bag Clarence had pushed towards me, feeling confused and lost.

No signs of life had greeted me, no trail and no person. I perched myself against a tree and tried to wipe the tears from my eyes with a dirty hand. When my eye sight was clear, I gasped. A man with blue skin stared at me, a wicked looking dagger in his hand and symbols painted onto his face and arms. I'd never seen a person look like that, like some sort of creature.

The man spoke, his voice very fluid but his words foreign. He moved forward and I did as well, intrigued by this being infront of me. He spoke again but I shook my head, not understanding.

"I cannot understand you." My words came out scratchy but he nodded his head, apparently understanding me. He motioned a hand forward and in my childish innocence, I moved forward and grabbed his out stretched hand.

He led me towards an entire village of the strangely painted people. Forward we made our way until we stood infront of another man who seemed to be leader of the group. They spoke in their language, quickly and using a few hand gestures to get points across. Then the leader looked at me.

"What happened?" His English was strangely accented but I understood it.

"Our carriage tipped. My parents died." They spoke in their language again before the man turned towards me once more.

"You'll stay with us."

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Moving quickly and without sound, I made my way through the forest, my bow strung and waiting. A deer, in the distance, stood unaware of my presence. Lowering my body, I took aim and let the arrow fly through the air. It hit the deer and one of the other hunters rushed from the other side of the woods and finished the creature. I made a hooting sound and then laughed, making my way towards the village again.

My second father, Gasvin, watched me proudly as I emerged back towards the fire. I ruffled one of the children's hair as I passed and made my ways towards the hut where I stayed.

I had been apart of the Woads for almost eighteen years. I had learned their language but remembered my own, I learned their ways and forgot my own. English civilization was the farthest from my mind on most days. My brown hair was often wild and always tied back by a simple leather string, my vibrant blue eyes were what put me apart from my adopted kin.

Once inside my hut, I washed the blue off my face, chest, and arms. A weathered and tathered leather bag, my only connection to my past, sat untouched on a makeshift shelf near my bedding. I never even opened it, not knowing what use it would be now.

My father was related and closely associated with the leader of the Woads, Merlin, and that gave me standing within the clan. I was taught to hunt, to heal, to fight with the best of the warriors. Never had I used my fighting techniques in more than just sparring, my healing being used on the warriors that came back from attacking the people that attacked us. Sarmatian knights under a Roman leader, I thought I had heard it all.

My father walked in was I combed my hair slowly, staring at the small fire that was in the corner of the room.

"They are sending a search party out, for your cousin Ravidan. Do you wish to be included?" He spoke as if he already knew the answer, which I'm sure he did.

"Of course. Ravidan is my closest friend now, how could I just let him be left on his own?" He nodded and left the room, not speaking again. In the past few years as I became more active in the hunting and searches with our kind, my father would get more and more nervous about me. Being his only daughter, he worried on me constantly.

The search party gathered together as the darkness started to fall. Seven of us were to set out, tracing Ravi's last steps in hopes of finding him alive. With our weapons strapped to us, we started away from the village, each with our own blue symbols drawn on our skin.

My father's dagger rested on my hip and my bow and arrows waited on my back. I walked slowly, inspecting the ground closely with well adjusted eyes. I heard a howling from a wolf a little ways away and I turned slowly. The white creature stared at me, his head cocked to the side.

"Arden, be quiet." The creature bowed his head but followed me slowly. He was not a pet, for creatures are never pets but help. He followed us silently, every now and then catching up and nudging my calf lightly. The others were used to my companion and did not seem at all shocked when I would bend back and run my fingers over his nose, something no one else would dare.

The sound of hooves alerted us all and Arden began to growl. I swatted his nose and then pointed backwards. Understanding, he ran the way I pointed, away from the hooves. He wouldn't dare come back either, unless I called for him. He knew his place with us.

The hooves got closer and we started to spread out to search for the source. A low whistle from one of the older warriors alerted us that they were coming from the east. We drew our weapons and waited, only to attack if we were attacked.

The guards would ride right between the group so we parted and hid behind trees. We could see them clearly, even in the dark, and we knew that they would hardly be able to see us. As they got closer, I became stiff and twirled the dagger around slowly. The guards that rode in behind the first group had torches which lit up the entire area we were in. I held my breath, hoping that we would remain undetected.

I do not know who attacked whom first, but I know that the grunts and war cries caused me to jump a foot into the air. I ran from my hiding spot, as did the others and started to fend off the guards from the warrior they had knocked to the ground.

Either a boot or one of the horses's hooves hit my head and I fell, my vision blurring and then going black. I could still hear the commotion around me, the grunts and yells from my kinsmen. Then it was mostly quiet, except the congratulatory talk from the guards. I groaned as one of them nudged me with their boot. I expected to feel a knife being lodged into my side, to be killed as I could only suppose the rest of the group had been, but instead I felt a rope being tied around my wrists.

Worse than being killed for a Woad was to become a prisoner.

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this, review and let me know. I'll be updating as much as possible.