I glanced at Simon and Roxanne who were armed from head to toe. Two swords strapped to Simon’s belt, a bow in Roxanne’s hand, the quiver with dozens of arrows peaking from her back.
Royal steel or not, I was the only one incompetent with any kind of weaponry—I was the burden of this trip.
“Let’s be on our way, we cannot waste time,” Roxanne said, ordering her horse into the woods, away from the castle, away from Faris—towards the inevitable, towards the Royal palace filled with Wurdulacs.
Chapter 30. Ash.
The first snowdrops fought their way through layers of snow, bestowing us with its glory. The melting snow crushed under our horses’ hooves, turning to water.
I had never been fond of springs; they had always made me feel as though new beginnings were upon me, and yet my life would turn for the worst. How I wished this spring brought peace—not sorrow.
Francis shot glances in my direction as he rode alongside me, letting Roxanne and Simon take the lead on our journey. I replied to his glances with my own, forcing a soft smile on my face that he certainly saw through—just like I could see through his.
Roxanne and Simon did not pretend to be anything but heartbroken: Simon deep in his thoughts—unlike his usual chatter and joy—Roxanne with cloudy tears in the corners of her eyes that she refused to let loose.
Only nature allowed the music into our silent travels, calming my racing heart so slightly—at least for tonight.
It was agreed to spend the day at the cabin—let ourselves and our horses rest before tomorrow, instead of rushing into the palace with no way of escaping under the sun's powerful rays—only Moon knew in what hurry we would have to flee. Only Moon knew whether we would be able to flee at all.
“Wait,” Francis hissed, bringing his horse to a halt before the last turn to the cabin. Simon and Roxanne froze in place before us.
“What’s wrong?” I whispered, looking in every direction for danger—I found none. “Francis?” I added when he didn’t reply.
His eyes planted onto the ground before us, I followed his gaze, finding nothing unusual.
“Francis?” Roxanne drew one arrow, setting it onto her bow as she glanced around the woods.
“Someone was here.” Francis ushered his horse to pass Roxanne and Simon, straight down the path towards the cabin. “Stay here,” he threw over his shoulder, disappearing into the woods.
Roxanne rushed after him, Simon and I followed.
The meadow stood silent under the Moon’s gaze; the cabin—
A gasp pushed past when my eyes landed on Francis’ childhood home.
“Dear Gods...” Roxanne palmed her mouth as her eyes grew bigger.
“Fuck—” Simon let go of the hilt of his sword, dismounting his horse.
Francis froze in place before his home.
The cabin—or rather what was left of it—stood in the center of the meadow, its roof burned to crisp.
The wooden walls blackened with ash; the remains of books lay on the ashy snow, their pages turned into nothingness. And only the metal chimney in the center of the disaster stood untouched.
