He had always been a steady initiate, ready to obey, to please. Wanting so much for his parents to be proud.
Would they be proud now? When he left her to die?
He spread his wings, assessing their capability. A strain, a pull, a reminder for caution, but the flesh itself seemed strong.
He tested, a quick flash of movement that sent a gust of wind about him, pressing down the grasses surrounding his feet, unused to such an action.
There was an awareness that the movement was not appreciated by his wing, but he did not crumple. Another and he lifted upward. And another.
The ground was leaving him, and he stared with determination as the Wall rose before him, growing shorter as he went with it. Even his good wing was tiring quickly, reminding him sharply of the weeks or disuse.
But he had to try.
He would not fit through the doorway, and this was his only option to follow her.
And he could not fail.
There was no current to aid him, only strain and muscles and determination.
But that was not always enough.
As he began to crest the Wall itself, a sudden agony lanced through his wing.
And despite his efforts with his uninjured side...
Grimult fell.
Hidden amongst the pages of the sages’ forgotten manuscripts also lay the beginning of the next tome...
Prologue
She had not expected it to hurt so much.
The door closing behind her felt so final, pushed by her own hands, blocking away the first person she had ever really loved.
She needed to get moving. All of this was for nothing if she stayed against the Wall, weeping quietly, waiting for something to mend that she doubted would ever fully heal.
She brushed at her eyes, pushing angrily at the feelings that threatened to overwhelm her, regardless of her actions. She had allowed herself to grow attached, and she must pay the consequence.
She would not need a heart for long in any case, so it was just as well that it stay with Grim.
The world was not so very changed beyond the Wall. More trees, tall and imposing rose like an impediment of their very own. Not too near the Wall, not enough that someone could use it as a ladder to scale the Wall itself. Saplings had not been allowed to take root, the border carefully maintained, which meant she would not be alone for long.
She swallowed, pushing away from the stone behind her. There was no distinct path to follow, simply the instruction that she should keep moving. It was an odd thing, to move on instinct rather than following a map long imprinted on her mind through years of study and instruction. Her youth had been spent proving she could recall every facet, every landmark that would indicate she was going the proper direction until she thought she would grow mad from the repetition.
Yet now she was simply told to wander, and that was an oddity to her.
Her eyes narrowed as something caught her attention just past the tree line. She drew closer, understanding coming slowly as she knelt down to investigate. Twisted metal in various stages of decay were all piled beneath a towering tree, only one truly recognisable for what it was.
The lanterns of the Lightkeeps that came before, abandoned almost immediately.
Hers was not there to add to the small monument, and for a brief moment she felt regretful at her insistence that they leave it behind, although she comforted herself that the state of her ribs and arm made carrying it truly burdensome. And she certainly could not have asked Grim to do even more.
She touched the previous ones in any case, feeling rather strange as she stared down at them. They were not worth anything, not really, but they were a remnant of her line. None else would remember them, knowledge of their existence hidden away in a sage's book, with little relevance to anyone else—most especially the people they had protected.
Their duty done, they no longer mattered. Whatever became of them was inconsequential, just so long as it was impossible for them to breach the Wall again, to return to a people that were never truly theirs and share too many secrets.
She closed her eyes. Hopelessness tugged at her, gnawing and persistent. Better not to think of the future, better not to imagine what came next, lest it overtake her entirely.
She glanced back at the Wall, the stones dark and seemingly as strong as it had been when first it was erected, large spikes punctuating the top to dissuade determined climbers.
The door could not open from this side, only the other.
But she thought of the rider poor Grim had killed. He had found a way. Maybe she could too.
She straightened. There would be time for mourning, for dwelling on the possibilities of her time to come and growing morose over the poor prospects before her. But not now. The light would not last much longer, and she could hardly be found in the dark.
She kept close to the tree line, uncertain how it would benefit any of them if she was to grow lost in the tangle of trees.
For the first time since she had set out from the keep, she felt truly cold. It was as if the loneliness that had been her constant companion through her formative years, sending chills and urging warmth anywhere she could find it. A favoured blanket, a roaring fire, anything to banish the feeling that she was halfway to the grave and no one would care.
There was no Grimult to banish away such sensations now. No charming smile in her direction that sent a surge of answering warmth through her entire being.
She was alone.
She drew her cloak about her as she walked, the shadows growing long, and she wondered at what point she retreat, find shelter and
