The sun was barely up by the time Prince Archer and his 14-year-old squire Ernest started their journey by the edge of the Forest. They were riding horses side by side; the prince riding his trustworthy chestnut-colored stead, while Ernest is on a black horse lent to him by his father. They were both wearing simple garments, and both carrying swords. Archer could tell that the boy was nervous. It was, after all, his first time to join in a trip to the Forest that may last for weeks. The lack of guards to accompany them seemed to be adding up to the boy’s fear.
“Are you alright there, Ernest?” he asked the squire kindly, looking over at him.
The boy nodded his head, his black hair falling on his eyes. “Yes, my Lord.”
“Theobald, remember? You must remember to call me that,” he reminded Ernest. It was what they had agreed on. The prince will go by the name of Theobald, while the squire will retain his name. They would introduce themselves as bro
THE SMOKE was coming from a bonfire outside a small brick cottage. The house was surrounded by different plants of varying colors and sizes. Prince Archer hopped down from the horse, and helped his squire get off the animal, gently holding his arms, avoiding his festered wound as to not cause him any more pain. Letting the boy lean on him for balance, he called out. “Is anyone there? Can anyone help us?” He heard shuffling from the inside of the tiny house, and small, quiet steps followed. An old woman peered from the door, her eyebrows furrowed, trying to see who was calling. Archer slowly walked towards the woman, his left arm across Ernest’s waist. “Please, help us. My brother is wounded, and he is becoming weaker. We need a healer. Please help us.” Peering over them thoughtfully, the woman gestured to the house. “Get him inside, and fast.” ONCE inside, the prince looked for a place to sit Er
DINNER was a tense event, with Old Maude’s infrequent questions, Archer’s short replies, and Aurora’s complete silence. The prince had fed his squire Ernest earlier, having moved him to a cot on one side of the cottage. He could see the boy now from where he was sitting: asleep, body hunched like a little child. A thick brown cloth was draped over him, yet he was still shivering. Archer could feel the guilt eating at him whenever he sees the boy’s pale pallor. Had he not insisted on bringing him along on his adventure, he would have been safe and sound at his family’s estate. Old Maude noticed his frequent glances at the boy, and tutted. “Now, do not worry so much about your brother, Theobald. While it is true that he should have been brought to me right away, I will try my very best to make sure he lives. Now, only if I still have the flower of bastion…” “The flower of bastion, my lady?” the prince inquired. He had never heard such fruit before. The old woman nodded. “It’s what I u
PRINCE ARCHER had been walking for nearly half an hour, his sword on his right hip, his bow and arrow and some nets and traps on a knapsack on his back, when he spotted Aurora, her bright red hair glimmering under the rays of the sun. She was crouched on one of her traps, holding a fat, brownish rabbit. “Aurora!” he called. She turned to look at the sound of his voice, her eyebrows furrowing. Despite her unwelcoming expression, he still felt joy in his chest upon seeing the lady again. He jogged towards her, only stopping when he was an arm’s length away from her. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “I told you to stay in the cottage.” Archer grinned stupidly at her. She sounded angry, yet she still was the loveliest woman in his eyes. “Your grandmother said the Forest was huge, and I could hunt somewhere different from you. I swear that I did not know that the trail I was following was the one you took as well.” Aurora purs
THE sun was just beginning to rise on the east when Prince Archer, disguised as Theobald the son of a smith, and Aurora began their journey to find the fruit of bastion. They each have a burlap sack containing provisions. Both are carrying a sword, and Archer also has his bow and arrows with him. He was about to mount his horse when Aurora stopped him.“The trail is too narrow for a horse,” she explained. “We would have to walk to get to the Heart.”Archer nodded and followed the lady. Her bright copper hair was tumbling down her shoulders. They walked in silence until they reached the clearing where Aurora had caught the rabbit the previous day.“We were here yesterday,” the prince noted. Aurora gave no response.Archer tried again. “Will we take the same trail yesterday, where we caught that deer?”Still no answer.The prince took a deep breath. “Why do you hate me so?&rdq
PRINCE ARCHER WAS ALONE in the shelter when he awoke the following morning. Aurora was no longer in his arms. Outside, he could hear the sound of firewood crackling, and could smell the aroma of roasted meat.Getting up from the floor of the tent, the prince-in-disguise held the back of his neck, cracking it slightly to alleviate the dull pain he was feeling on it. He must have fallen asleep in an awkward position. Walking outside, he caught sight of Aurora sitting in front of a fire roast, turning over the heat what looks to be some sort of bird meat skewered on a piece of stick. She looked up at the sound of his footsteps, and, catching sight of his face, flustered a little and turned her eyes away from him immediately. Archer walked towards her and sat on a flat rock in front of her.“How are you this morning, my lady?” he inquired politely.Aurora shrugged, handing him a cooked piece of bird meat on a stick. She cleared her throat. “I have hunted to break our fast, as you can see.
IT WAS more than a day and a half of walking later when Aurora stopped outside of an enormous cave.“We are here,” she said simply.Prince Archer glanced up at the cave. It was a huge, glimmering grey rock. He could see the abundance of green moss by the entrance to the cavern from where he was standing. It was eerily quiet; only the occasional titters of a distant bird breaking the silence. Even the wind seemed to stop moving.Aurora looked at him. “Now, we enter. It is quite huge inside, with rock formations everywhere. But I have been here quite a few times, and I know the way. Follow me closely, and you shall be alright.”The prince nodded.The lady walked towards the cave, her footsteps wary. Archer expected it to be completely dark, but there were crevices at the roof of the cave that gave way to rays of the midday sunlight, illuminating the area. The air inside was cold despite it being the middle of the day, and the prince could feel the hairs on his arm stand up. Aurora was a
“HURRY, MY LOVE! I can hear them!”The lady’s hoarse shout can hardly be heard amidst the heavy pouring of the rain. The trail they were braving through was slick and muddy from the torrential rain that has been ravaging the land for days, and their old horse, stolen from the stable they chanced upon, could barely keep up with the speed they need.The man with the reins clenched his jaw, tightening his hold on the ropes. He and the lady have been on the run for several days now, and their pursuers have caught up with them. He was physically exhausted, but his resolve was as strong as it has been since they began to run; as strong as it was on the day he met and loved her.He could feel the lady trembling, her lithe body pressed against his back, her dainty arms wrapped around his waist. He knew she was strong; had known it since the day he looked into her defiant eyes. But she, like him, was tired. Not just physically, but ment
THE rain was pouring hard on the stone roof of the Tower the day that King Alaric of Vrasambail, the Third of His Name, died. It was early in the morning, barely a quarter after the eight hour, and Prince Archer, the eldest born of the King and the long-dead Good Queen Amarantha, was alone reading in his chambers in what is commonly referred to as the Tower but in actuality was the residence of the royal family of Vrasambail when Lucius, the King’s squire, brought him the dire news. “My Lord,” the 15-year old stocky lad with a mop of brown hair began after a cursory bow, “the King had passed in his sleep. Elder Anselm sent me to let you know.” The scripture of the kingdom’s mountain clans that the prince had been reading fell to the floor. With the King having been in a sickly disposition for several months now, he had thought that perhaps the pain of his passing would be significantly lesser than it would have been had the death been a compl