Horse hoofs pattered on snow. Tugged by reins they traversed the main road of the city. Artowen stared at his aunt’s back, faintly illuminated by dawn’s shy attention. A cloak wrapped around her, bundles of plain warm clothes, and animal fur laid underneath to fight off the cold. An unstrung short bow rested on her back. Her horse was packed with some supplies, but she was traveling light.

  Emerii also wore a cloak, her usual armor traded in for some leather and fur to keep her warm. Among her supplies was her armor bundled and ready for when the time for battle came.

  Artowen had also elected to not adorn something that would invite the chill to his bones. Even with the three horses much ground to makeup, he sought not to encumber them. They would be swift as hares in making it to Bardoo.

  A small crowd waited ahead of them. Artowen recognized all of them, though changed by the flow of time they were all people he knew well. His excursion into the city the previous day had seen him reunite with many of them and word had traveled to those he had not had a chance to talk with.

  He met them with a smile.

  Emerii laughed cheerfully.

  Aunt Idwyn sighed with a slight shake of her head.

  Their reactions brought even more joy to his heart and the crowd that had formed to see him off on his journey hardened his resolve. The meeting was brief for once, all knew the need was great.

  Making for the gate, Aunt Idwyn said, “Your friend has not joined us yet. It does not appear he is waiting at the gate either. Do you both still have faith he will come?”

  “Of course Lady Idwyn,” Emerii replied. “He has been waiting for this day as much as any of us.”

  Artowen nodded his head. “I trust him. I know he will not abandon us.”

  “Faith is important, in yourself, your friend, and god.” A slight smile appeared on Aunt Idwyn’s face but she said no more.

  A brief nod from the guards excused their exit from Liofeld. Ahead was a road that had been traveled little since the newly fallen snow. Even with the inconvenience they would move more swiftly on their horses.

  No one waited outside of the walls for them. The light that beat back night revealed no one as far as the eye could see. Royce was not awaiting them there.

  “I know it has been some time since you last rode Artowen, but do try to keep up,” Aunt Idwyn said with a scoff.

  She snapped the reins sending the horse charging through the snow, kicking up streams of white flecks as she galloped.

  Emerii followed.

  Artowen turned his back on Liofeld. When next will I glimpse your high towers, your hearts of gold, and fight against decay? When next will I witness the hope you represent?

  “I’m not looking forward to riding you,” Artowen muttered under his breath as he sent his horse after them.

  Rowain stared out the window to the western exit of the city. He could not see the gate from the study, but based on when they departed the castle they should have already passed through the wall.

  The Lord Captain walked through the door without knocking. Rowain continued to gaze outward as silence encapsulated the room.

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  “Is it truly wise to be carrying on in the way you are?” The Lord Captain asked.

  The King shrugged. “Is there any wisdom left in the world we live in?”

  “Don’t give me that,” He snarled. “Arty basically announced your usurpation with that proclamation.”

  “And? He is the Promised One.”

  “The circumstances of his destiny do not dictate that he become the mythical Drawalda. There is nothing in the prophecy that states that. Idwyn is just using it to elevate her nephew to the highest status possible, king of the realm.”

  “Even so, my station will not disappear.”

  The Lord Captain spat on the floor, a most ill gesture. “So you’ll be a client king? Or worse you’ll become an adjunct like how High King Eddgaar runs his empire?”

  “You know me too well my friend, I wouldn’t be able to hide my thoughts from you even if I desired it.”

  “Don’t call me that. We’re only united for the betterment of Welkia. You detestable child who even now curses his duty.”

  “It is better that I’m this way, Lord Captain. Arty is the best of us.”

  “But he carries no royal blood.”

  “Fitting then, that he will not be king but Drawalda, a position allowed to be possessed by one with such an origin.”

  The Lord Captain grunted, that was a sign that he was relenting on this issue. The man did not leave the room, however.

  “I’m sure you want to discuss Royce, but I feel there is no need.”

  “It’s too soon for him. I understand why you allowed it, but I cannot agree with such a decision. He’s such a feminine boy he’ll be captured by an Uxson in no time and sent to the Lost Lands to be raped for life.”

  King Rowain grimaced at such talk. The Lord Captain was one of the most reliable in the Dradris Kingdoms but was not what he considered to be an amenable person. In most ways, the older man rubbed him the wrong way.

  King Rowain cleared his throat. “Be that as it may, you know that he does not wish to be a Royal Guard. Some time away from the capital will do him some good, I think.”

  “Yes, with the way you let him go, I would assume you think that. At least you didn’t challenge me openly.”

  “Please, I’m not a tactless buffoon.”

  “But an unskilled one you are. Perhaps if you could summon a deity Welkia wouldn’t be facing the crisis it is in now.”

  The Lord Captain saluted and turned away. He left without being dismissed. It was the man’s parting shot, but Rowain could not help but feel a twang of pain at the tinge of truth in the jab.

  Please let your quest go successfully, stalwart Arty, skilled Emerii, tactical Royce, all-seeing Idwyn. Let your gifts and guardian deities bring you victory.

  Liofeld had disappeared behind them. Charging through the snow Artowen struggled with his mount. A tame beast by any measure but riding was a skill that he lacked. If he had stayed in Liofeld then perhaps he could have practiced, but for four years in Haoggen he lacked such an opportunity.

  The sun was cresting to the middle of the sky, which for most would represent time to stop for a meal and a break, but Idwyn’s posture showed she had no intention of such a detour. Their horses were not racing at such an incredible speed, but they were still gaining far more land than if they walked.

  Even on horseback, it would take a week in the snow to reach Tartos, the city closest to the border of Bardoo.

  Far in the distance, the terrain appeared jagged and uneven, but upon squinting Artowen could see they were huts covered in snow. A small village built on the side of a main road was not an uncommon occurrence.

  The village could hardly be worthy of the name, and it appeared to have sprouted up very recently. Squatters, beggars, refugees. That was the sort that sprung these places out from nowhere one day. Some townsfolk could be seen wandering and completing various tasks, while a lone figure stood holding the reins of a horse.

  The impression the figure cut was not impressive, but it was heartening. Artowen’s eye glowed, and Emerii laughed. Even Aunt Idwyn chuckled.

  Ahead, shivering in the cold, stood Royce. When he noticed the identity of the three riders, he began to wave wide to draw their attention as if they had not already noticed him.

  Approaching, the trio reined in and dismounted. Emerii and Artowen met their chosen friend with an embrace.

  “We knew you would come, Royce,” Artowen said, his warm smile piercing the freezing chill.

  “But why here?” Emerii asked.

  “I couldn’t risk my father stopping me again. I was barely able to secure a horse. This is the fastest route to Bardoo, so I knew you would have to pass through here eventually, making it the perfect waiting spot. Though I’ll admit that I was a little worried I’d miss you.”

  Artowen turned to his aunt, “See? I knew they could both push through. We need them.”

  She gave a smile, her favorite that never touched her eyes. “They have completed the trials to begin the journey, but much more fierce obstacles lay in our path. Please do not forget that dear nephew. Still, they have done good.” She approached one of the flimsy huts. “We shall take a short rest here to warm our bones. I’m sure Royce could use that as well. We will have a small meal and then continue with our journey.”

  The friends reunited and smiled at each other as they followed the Truthsayer.