Deep beneath the castle of Aldoran, Lind stirred from his slumber. The blue and gold of his scales caught the weak light of the setting sun, throwing glittering and dancing shapes across the cave walls. He lifted his heavy head towards the cave entrance, and gazed out to the sea that lay peacefully past the rocks and crags of the hill.
Far above him, he could hear the frantic footsteps of men and Beastman alike. The sounds only softened at night, but never fully stopped. The dragon was used to these sounds and signs of life living above, detached from his own lifestyle as time moved quickly around him. But something had changed recently. The footsteps were louder, and bore the clang of metal. The scent of steel and sword oil drifted down the passageway that led up into the halls of the castle. The guards were doubling, Lind knew. Soldiers were amassing, the army was being organized. Lind rumbled, long and loud, and the sound echoed in his cavern. The last time this much activity happened in the castle, the dragon himself was summoned to act as a tool for war. Lind lay his head back down, and curled his long tail around his body. His strong wings draped over his scaled back, and his shining golden eyes slowly closed.
The one who had the power to command him was but a child. He knew she was young still, naïve and innocent. Lind had no need to be concerned.
The ride back to Aldoran was swift, far too swift for Loren’s liking. She was loaded onto a carriage with her pack thrown by her feet. Half a dozen armed guards bearing the colors of Aldoran surrounded her carriage to ensure that the princess would reach home safely. Her friends had been left behind in Rhodia as the convoy sped off without them. Loren didn’t know if they would follow her all the way back, or give up on her and her fool’s errand and part ways.
Loren sighed as she sat in the carriage, swaying slightly with every bump in the road as the cart’s wooden wheels rolled on. Loren thought of Cassendir the scholar. There must have been so much added knowledge in his books already, he could sail back to Kespia and share his findings among the other learned men. He would become popular there she imagined, as Kespia was infamous for rejecting outsiders of all kinds. Knowledge and information of the outside world was craved, yet so few people were willing to leave their familiar sands.
Perhaps Kae and Ma’trii would cut their losses and take what they could before returning to Kilrough Forest. That was their home after all, they had a life and routine among the trees. If it wasn’t for Loren’s insistence, the two would never have left the familiar scenery. They wouldn’t have had to risk their lives chasing after a prince they never knew nor cared about, and wouldn’t dare set foot in the Plaguelands of their own accord. Kae wouldn’t risk her life. And for who? Loren?
Loren felt a pang in her chest as she thought of Kae, the strong and steadfast hunter that she was, the brash and willful girl that she knew, turning her back on her. With every step Kae took to walk away from Loren in her mind’s eye, Loren felt hot tears forming in her eyes. She didn’t understand. They had only known each other for a short while, but the thought of Kae suddenly absent in her life was painful.
The princess’s eyes flashed open as she felt the rhythmic movement of the carriage stop. When she lifted her head, she saw the familiar portcullis of Markholme, being raised into the gate with difficulty.
Loren sat bolt upright on the hard bench of the carriage. They passed under the raised portcullis, and she saw guards begin the long process of unwinding the winch to lower it again. She had fallen asleep on the journey and had missed any opportunities to escape completely. Whether the princess had fallen asleep from the emotional or physical fatigue, she couldn’t say.
The carriage was pulled more slowly up the cobblestone avenue towards the castle. Men and women, human and Beastman alike stopped their activities and gawked at the envoy as they rode past. Loren hung her head, trying to keep her face hidden from view, but she knew it was a wasted effort. Everyone in Markholme knew what the crown princess of Aldoran looked like.
Shame burned in Loren’s chest and on her face in a furious blush. Her parents must have organized a massive search for her when they found her missing from her room. It felt like ages had passed since she left Markholme with Kae and Ma’trii. Loren chanced a glance at the people watching her, and was met with concerned and disappointed stares. Whispers drifted from the crowd, just loud enough for Loren to hear.
“Why did she leave?”
“Foolish girl, Sagna near declares war and she decides now is the time to run away from home?”
“Isn’t she the heir to the throne? If her mother dies and she is no-where to be found, what will become of Aldoran?”
“Has she no heart? Her own mother lays dying…”
The townspeople believe Loren had shirked her duties, and had run away on a foolish whim. No one would believe that she attempted to set off on her own quest to bring those same people who dared attack her family and friends to their knees. These people would never understand what Loren aimed to do for her family, for her kingdom, for
