Cold.

It was the first word to come across the mind of the woman who sat staring with swollen red eyes at the pile of rubble that she once called home. A renown yet isolated palace that sat at the heart of her Father's quaint and harmonious kingdom, reduced to little more than a pyre for all that she cherished. The barren tundra proved unforgiving; sharp gusts of wind bit at her cheeks and flurries of ash stung her face. The rage that burned in her chest coupled with the deep pain of loss stripped her of all motivation in the hours past. She glanced down at her hands, to find them bloody and burned from burying whomever she could find. The hazed look in her Father's eyes, devoid of all life, kept its image in the front of her mind. She inhaled deeply, and exhaled sharply as she rose to her feet. She studied the scene, then closed her eyes for a brief moment. She would not forget how quickly her homeland fell. The dark and slim demons with wings like those of a bird, the blood that pooled on the floorboards, the flames that spread across the walls as if it were parchment set ablaze. As she opened her eyes, she turned her back to her home, taking nothing but a small pouch and her cloak, which adorned her family's crest.

She trekked through the bitter plain, her tattered and singed cloak fluttering behind her as she chewed on a sedge leaf in an attempt to sate her unsettled stomach. The sun had gone down, the silence of the night eerie and unsettling. She would make it to the treeline for cover before she stopped to rest. She was exhausted, and unsure of where to go for help. 

"Who would have done this?" She spoke quietly, her gaze locked onto the ground. She rubbed her hands as she walked to keep them as warm as she could. "Why?" She could think of no enemies her Father had. Her Kingdom was small, but alas, wealthy. The climate of her region provided the perfect place to cultivate herbs rumored to save men from mortal wounds and many ailments. Word spread quickly of this plant, dubbed 'soul sedge', and thus the backbone of the medicinal kingdom of Gentia was forged. Vast kingdoms with large and powerful armies quickly sought to establish an alliance with Gentia in hopes to have a ready supply of soul sedge for their soldiers. Alas, demand rapidly increased while supply dwindled. In order to produce more of the product, the cost of the herb rose greatly to cover the expenses of the land and labor involved. Such was the business of Gentia, and it did not appear to be a motive strong enough to incite the massacre of her family. 

She hadn't realized she was among the trees until she heard the distant hoot of an owl. Her body trembled and fought against her with every step she made, until she reached a patch of shrubbery just tall enough to hide in. Her legs collapsed, she fell to her side and lay in the brush, staring blankly ahead of her. 

Inhale. Exhale. Breathe in. Breathe out. In the silence, she could hear her heart beating, along with the rhythm of her breath. Quickly, her consciousness slipped from her.

It'd been two weeks since any word was received from Gentia, and with news that the Creoux were suddenly quite active, it was imperative that King Lucius's army be stocked full of soul sedge and ready to fight. The Creoux had been the crux of the Bediverean Kingdom and it's allies since the Kingdom's foundation two-hundred-forty-one years ago. It began with territorial disputes, and over the years, escalated to raids, assassinations, and full-scale war. Lucius had lost not only his Mother due to the curse of the Creoux, but his Father in the ongoing war as well. 

Lucius had not been outside the castle for any reason besides fighting on the front lines as a young prince. The curse cast upon him by the Creoux that killed his Mother during his birth, caused even his Father to fear him and his inhuman look. For that reason, it was imprinted upon him that he was never to leave the castle unless it was to defend the realm within its borders. The 'Beast Prince of Bedivere' was brought up as if he were a weapon, and with the recent passing of his father in the year 238, he struggled with the charisma his father had with the people. After all, it would be difficult to rule a expansive realm from behind castle walls. One of the two King's guards, Adrinae, acted as the King's voice, relaying Lucius's messages to the people in public assemblies and foreign conferences so that the people and allies may have some contact with the Bediverean government. Make no mistake- Lucius was well aware of external and internal affairs of the castle and its keeping. Ruling from the shadows would be impossible for most, but Lucius adapted well to his upbringing and did his best to keep to his late Father's wishes while being an able King. However, though years had since passed since Lucius's coronation, it still did not sit well with the people that they had never seen this new King. It troubled Lucius, but he found to keep out of mind the problems he saw had no solution. 

Lucius had been at unease for some time, and the court could feel it. Though typically cold, his silent anxieties about the Creoux and the lack of response from Gentia was heard by all. Several days prior, he had ordered scouts to check upon the welfare of the wintry Kingdom to the northeast. Though he impatiently awaited their return, he could not help but conjure what could have happened. From his own experiences, he assumed the worst.

"Majesty, I insist one day your face will freeze like that. Quite scary already, best you not add to it..." A hearty and booming voice entered the room. Lucius knew by the footsteps who approached him, yet still turned to face Adrinae, curious as to what smug expression he wore this time. One side of his mouth was curled into a grin, and his warm brown eyes sparkled with sarcastic candor. 

"Sit." Lucius responded, moving a hand out towards a nearby chair.

"The falcons haven't returned from Gentia." Adrinae sighed as he sat back in the chair he pulled out. "Unlikely they've gotten lost. Fortunately, I've heard back from one of the scouts. A swift dropped this message this morning." He pulled a small folded script from a pouch and moved it across the table towards the King. Lucius pulled the letter apart, his eyes darting across the paper before his countenance fell grim. A heavy air came across the room, and soon Adrinae's face mirrored the King's. 

"The Creoux have attacked once more." Lucius spoke, his voice steely and harsh. Adrinae scowled.

"Are you certain?" 

"Total annihilation, no survivors; it reads. Who else but the Creoux?" 

"I understand the vile history of the Creoux but do you think it wise to draw such conclusions without evidence?" Lucius's burning red eyes shot up to meet his friend's.

"You think a castle of ashes and a field of dead not evidence?" He snapped. He took a deep breath and rose from the table to pace to the window, leaving Adrinae to sit in short silence. "My allies are slain amidst this war, and you think it not the Creoux, Adrinae?" Lucius growled, his back turned to his Chancellor.

"I beg your pardon, Majesty. I spoke without thinking." He apologized rather sarcastically.

"...Is there any word on remaining soul sedge?"

"No, the Scouts had already-" Adrinae stopped and Lucius rose his palm to quiet him. 

"We will depart this eve for Gentia. We must recover any and all of the herb to ensure my armies exact humility upon those wretched beasts."

"Do you believe any to be left after the Creoux's pillaging?"

"They could not have gone far. We move by cover of night. Gather the men, we leave once the moon has risen."

"Yes, My King." Adrinae immediately rose from his seat and rushed from the room. The King sighed, leaning his head back until he looked upon the ceiling. The blood of innocents had now been shed outside his realm, because of his bloodline. The war between the Bedivereans and Creoux had gone on for so long that Lucius had yet to hear a proper tale of the purpose. His Father had always been a poor storyteller. As a boy, he often wondered what his life would had been like if only he hadn't killed his Mother by cursing the world with his existence. The thought that a Kingdom of healing, a family of those that do good, were killed because of his war enraged him. His crimson eyes glinted with bloodlust, and it was there that he swore to himself that he would drench his lands until they were pregnant with the life they drew from the bodies of the Creoux.

"You learn quickly, Amaryllis!" A tall man bellowed, his orange beard unable to hide such a grin. The lady smiled, panting from the vigorous training she had recently begun. Hilmir, the large man was called, rescued Amaryllis from the shrubs she had collapsed in shortly before she succumbed to hypothermia in her sleep. To her relief, Hilmir and his tribe, the Saksahanna, had just been passing through hoping to trade a year's worth of pelts for soul sedge when they encountered the fallen woman. They seemed to be good people- loud, friendly, and optimistic. They found their home in the far tundra and kept to themselves, surviving off the land and living primarily as nomads as they followed herds of reindeer and elk to draw from. Amaryllis thought herself lucky to have been stumbled upon by her saviors, and eagerly took up their offer to train her how to hunt and defend herself. She was clearly a sheltered and peaceful woman, as her first days of training were a cause of laughter among the tribe. She hadn't the slightest idea how to handle a claymore, let alone a bow. Though still too weak to aptly wield a claymore, she was rapidly improving with the longbow. Hilmir, the chief of the Saksahanna, loudly proclaimed his praise for her efforts. Even his daughter, Hana, sat clapping meekly from the mouth of her hut. Hana had recently bore a child, and grew lethargic and pale soon after. Amaryllis had been glad to give Hana the remaining soul sedge she had kept in a small pocket of her dress for emergencies, as a thank you to the tribe for saving her. Hana was now eating and moving, a great relief to her family and those in her community.

By this point, Amaryllis's hands trembled with weariness. She was awoken at dawn and trained until nightfall, when the chief rounded the tribe up for supper. They always ate together, sharing stories of their days, tall tales of the past, ghost stories and the matter. The group passed around portions of several roasted hares and pickled vegetables they'd bartered from merchants during their travels. As Amaryllis portioned her food, a young man began beating a drum, and he rose to stand by the fire. The children cheered, looking on expectantly. 

"Ah ha! What will it be this time, boy?!" The chief laughed, slapping his knee as he sat. The boy replied with a toothy grin, and began to prance around in a signifying manner, before rattling on about the story of a distant land.

"Here ye, here ye! All who draw near thee! The far off lands hath summoned! Yet Lords, their walls, they've toughened! Ye story of old tells a tale of gold, the Lords, they know to be bludgeoned!" The surrounding men and women cracked into a fit of laughter as the dancer pretended to be beat down. "Who thought they'd be wise? The Lords sought own demise! For the gold, they've advertised! They speak of wealth freely, for they hath become greedy...That gold is good as mine!" A cacophony of guffaws erupted once more, increasing in volume. A prodding elbow interrupted Amaryllis's focus on the performance.

"You are smiling, dear." Hilmir nodded approvingly, pleased with his observation. Amaryllis's cheeks flushed.

"It is hard not to when everyone is so happy." She answered, turning her gaze towards the giggling children across the fire. The Chief chuckled.

"Feeding a rowdy bunch like this takes a lot of work, you know. How about we take those new tricks of yours to the field tomorrow?" Amaryllis raised a brow in inquiry. "Join the boys and me on the hunt at dawn. It would be good practice!" He offered, and Amaryllis was quick to accept.

"It is settled then." The Chief pat her on the back, and returned to his game of poking fun at the dancer.

The men had set off as the moon was high, as the King had planned. For three days the procession trotted determinedly along the path to Gentia, led by the King. The King wore a heavy black cloak, adorned with a thick hood and deep red embellishments to conceal his sub-human appearance. The King's seal adorned his cape and steed, and the soldiers that surrounded him brandished the same seal on their armor. The small cavalry with their dark armor and red flags looked imposing in the daylight, as any traveler they passed looked frightful and wary. Lucius glanced towards the skies, searching for his eagle. It flew slightly ahead, riding the breeze and perching to the King on command for warning of any trouble ahead.

"Will we arrive before nightfall?" Lucius questioned his appointed guard and Chancellor, who rode adjacent the King's steed.

"Before the sun sets." Adrinae replied. They traveled forth, the accompanying guards keeping a keen eye for any sign of disturbance along their ride. The horse's sweat began to ice upon their fur as the group drew near to the walls of Gentia, a sign that the King welcomed. From the corner of his eye, he witnessed a soldier riding up to Adrinae, slowing only to speak beside the Chancellor. Shortly after, the advisor approached the King. "The soldiers report finding tracks at the rear, of both horse and men." He declared. Lucius furrowed his brow.

"Take me to them." He demanded, halting the procession as he followed Adrinae and the informant towards a muddied area, with prints meticulously preserved by the bitter conditions of the tundra. 

"It looks as if they were dragging something, Your Majesty. See here, the marks of shoes and hooves are well defined in this area... But in others, the prints are leveled out, as if something large had been pulled over." The soldier pointed to different places in the ground.

"Do you think it to be the Creoux?" Adrinae questioned, turning to face the King from atop his mount.

"No." Lucius responded, his voice deep but conflicted. He knew the Creoux to travel by horse if not by flight, and doubted they would move like a regular caravan. A gust of wind rustled the trees and fluttered the King's hood, carrying his command across the treeline. "We are to make haste towards Gentia." He urged, turning round. His legs pressed against the sides  of his steed, and with a slap of its reins it cantered forward. The soldiers followed suit, with Adrinae directly tailing the perturbed King.

"What a relief it would be if bandits turned to be the culprit of this tragedy." Adrinae stated. Lucius heard him clear, but made no comment. With some time, the group finally came upon the grave once known as Gentia. Ahead of them lie a mountain of rubble, with wooden pillars erupting from heaps of stone along with fragments of the remaining walls. "Search for survivors! Collect all soul sedge recovered and report any findings to me!" The soldiers scattered around the perimeter of the castle.

"Mere bandits would not be able to accomplish... this." Lucius commented with a disconsolate tone that paired to his expression. Lucius attempted to visualize the attack by taking into account the structure's condition, the flecks of ash that the wind carried, and the black marks upon the stone that could only accuse searing flame. Weapons lay on the ground, either dropped or broken with their blades snapped cleanly. The stables had no roof, and there were no horses in sight. Perhaps the horses were stolen by bandits after the attack, as no form of bandit would be able to break blades like twigs and obliterate a castle and its surroundings like it had. Lucius envisioned the Creoux sweeping with their leathery black wings, alike those of a bat, using their claws to tear apart anything they could touch. He imagined them using their magic to set a castle ablaze, to demolish walls as if struck by catapult, and, in their typical fashion, chase after and murder any and all survivors like sport. The thought of it angered him and forced his blood to rush, his teeth gritting until he was drawn from his mind towards mounds in the distance. As he focused on the mounds, he saw them to appear to be rather freshly turned dirt, and as he became closer, more of the mounds revealed themselves. He could hear the pounding of hooves behind him, which announced Adrinae's arrival.

"Graves?" The Chancellor questioned. 

"If not, what else?" Lucius responded rhetorically.

"Should I have the men unearth them?" Adrinae dismounted his horse, walking up to one of the mounds of dirt. "For the purpose of knowing if King Gentia is passed."

"I am not familiar with his face." The King answered, somewhat abashedly. 

"Hm...As nor I." Adrinae grunted. "Someone must have buried them, maybe there are survivors after all." 

"The stable is in ruins and the horses are missing. Along with the tracks, I wager bandits are responsible for the burial and the absent steeds..." As Lucius finished his sentence, shouts erupted from the other side of the castle.

"I'll investigate." Adrinae leapt upon the back of his mount and hurried off towards the source of the clamor, as the King scanned the skies for the eagle that was to warn him of nearby trouble. Unable to find the golden bird, he pressed his fingers to his lips as summons, but still, the bird did not return. He frowned, and took after the same path Adrinae did. He found him engaged in battle with a bird-like foe, several of his soldiers already lay slain on the ground. Adrinae struck the bird with a massive swing of his sword, his horse uneasy and stomping feet away from him. The creature screamed, spreading its wings as it recoiled. Lucius could never forget the unmistakable shape of that hellish creature- the large wings that connected to the back of its human body, with fingers that more closely resembled talons. The black eyes that resulted from the curse it caste on itself to attain such a figure, and the teeth it shared with those of a flesh-eating fish. Lucius galloped his stallion forward as the Creoux swooped in, slaying yet another of his soldiers. Adrinae was thrown aside as the creature struck him with a wing, and fell into the rubble with a grunt. Lucius drew his sword- the blade that once belonged to his Father- and stabbed the creature, dragging his weapon along its body with his horse as the driving force as the demon's guts spilled onto the ground. Its body fell forward, and even so, Lucius reared his steed, turning back to jump off his mount, his hood falling back onto his shoulders. He landed on the back of the Creoux, driving his sword through its skull. The bodies of his men surround him, and Adrinae rose from the ground with a groan to come near his King. 

"I apologize for my weakness..."

"No matter. I take it you are alright?" Lucius asked, his back turned to the man. He pulled his hood over the horns on the sides of his head that curled up towards his face, moving to check on his fallen men.

"Yes." Adrinae dusted his clothes off and readjusted the strap that draped across his tunic, holstering his sword on his back. To the King's fury, his men had been slaughtered and more blood shed on a place already titled a grave site.

"The Creoux... The day they besieged my lands, they wished for death, and with this... they have opened a Pandora's box." The King growled, articulating his malice. Adrinae listened to him silently, as movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. The King's eagle lie injured, its wing torn and bloodied but even still, desperate to get to the King. Adrinae grabbed the bird and pulled a cloth from the pouch on his horse's saddle, wrapping the eagle in it. 

"One survivor." Adrinae joked, offering a sad half-smile. He placed the eagle in his horse's pouch, allowing it to peer out. He and Lucius worked to gather the men that had fallen and placed them in a line among the rubble. Lucius gathered the materials for a fire and worked to start it as Adrinae covered the men in tinder. Night had fallen, and in the desolate plain the stars shone bright. The constant, biting breeze made it rather difficult to spark a flame, but even so Lucius was able to ignite a fire. Adrinae handed him a piece of wood from the castle ruins, suitable to use as a torch, and with it Lucius set the end ablaze. He stood in front of his deceased soldiers, and delivered a solemn prayer to Vardirdreki, the God who followed man from birth to death. He prayed for safe passage to the afterlife, as they had died well in battle. With the closure of his prayer, he tossed the burning wood onto the tinder that covered the men, and it quickly engulfed them. Smoke once again rose from the plains of Gentia, along the castle of that fallen Kingdom.

The adept hunters of the Saksahanna, clothed in white pelts, found the treeless terrain no issue when stalking their prey. Amaryllis took note of how stealthy the large men were, despite lacking cover to sneak up on the reindeer. They relied on their camouflage and wide boots that softened their footsteps. She was nervous- as the Chief insisted the men direct the prey towards her so that she may make the kill. She was humbled by the confidence he had in her, but it did nothing to build upon the confidence she had in herself. The deer remained unsuspecting as they grazed on the lichen, occasionally grunting at one another. A hunter drew close to the rear of a caribou, before launching his spear into its flank. The deer screeched, and the frantic stampede of the herd began. The hunters ran in, silently signaling to one another with the motion of their arms. Amaryllis clutched her spear, readying herself for the oncoming caribou. As the hunters maneuvered, the herd steadily thinned and scattered  in different directions. The men sprinted after the deer, targeting it with their weapons to slow and weaken it. The animal drew near, and with its presence Amaryllis could feel her heart pound in anticipation. As the sound of the mammal's knees grew louder, her grip on the spear tightened. It pivoted left. The men threw daggers to drive it right. Amaryllis darted towards the deer, keeping her steps light. She tightened her grip, the animal dropped its neck low. She raised her arms to deliver a killing blow.

"Stop!!!" Hilmir's loud voice rattled across the plain. The caribou swung its powerful neck upwards, and Amaryllis's eyes went wide. She thrust her spear in its general direction, shut her eyes and braced to be trampled. As the antlers of the deer connected with her abdomen, she felt a sharp pain and was thrown to the side, only to land with a groan on the unforgiving ground. The men continued to chase after the deer and finish the hunt as the Chief made his way towards her. "Get up, we've to get you to camp." He sighed, grabbing under her arm and pulling her up. Her blood spotted the snow, and she clutched her wound as they walked back to the rest of the tribe.

"Sorry." She said meekly as Hilmir released his grip on her arm. He shook his head, rummaging through supplies in the back of his hut. He exchanged a few words with his wife, who went off to retrieve water.

"Use this and press it against your injury. The missus will be in to treat you." The Chief passed her strips of cloth, and folded so that it better suited the size of her gashes. "Hunting, nay, fighting blind results in serious injury, as I am sure you have learned." He sternly began. "I've only seen children shut their eyes when they flinch. Flinching most certainly will lead to your death, Amaryllis. Allow no fear to control you or this shall be the first of many wounds." Hilmir lectured as his wife returned. She knelt to the injured woman's side and the Chief left with no further word.

"Let us see." She said, pushing the girl's navy cloak aside and pulling at the torn fabric of her tunic. She ignored Amaryllis's wincing as she tend to her wounds, using the water to wash off the blood. "Fortunate you are to have rather shallow lacerations. Understand that your.. failures are not just your own." She commented as she started to wrap bandages around the other's torso. "We Saksahanna rely on each other, we are only as strong as our weakest. If one shall slip up, we all bear the burden. Remember this." The Chieftain's wife was a harsh woman, but all the wiser. Amaryllis was disappointed in herself, but also frustrated the Chief had suggested such a pivotal role in the hunt so soon. Suddenly, the elder woman reached for Amaryllis's chin, pulling it forth to look at her. "Wipe that look off your face young lass, who gave you time to sulk?" She secured the cloth Hilmir gave the girl over the worst of the wound, and finished wrapping the bandage.

"I'm sorry." Amaryllis sighed.

"Ah, for the love of Valdirdreki, enough. Rise, girl, learn from your faults and take great care not to repeat them. In any case, the boys surely have returned with some meal by now. Let us join them and prepare to feast." The Gentian girl obeyed and took the sagacious woman's words to heart, following her to spend the next few hours aiding meal preparation.

"Caribou is about finished!" A young man shouted from afar. Children began to gather tinder and drop it over the rocks that served as the center of the camp. Their mothers worked to start the fire to keep those around it warm, while the men continued to tend to the meal or maintenance their supplies. Snow began to fall, slowly, but in pebble-sized flakes. The children found it greatly entertaining, but as it began to accumulate on the tinder, the women further struggled to spark a flame. A rumble could be heard across the sky, that struck out over the clamor of the camp. Hilmir could be seen with a furrowed brow, staring up at the skies. Amaryllis thought nothing of it, and began to aid the women in their fight with the campfire. The men sectioned the meat and all began to find their places for supper, and so the fun of the meal began. The mother of a child who was fond of the white-haired woman presented jewelry she had made from materials she had collected, discussing its craft with the lady. The sky boomed once more, this time startling the people enough to briefly quiet the group, and it was only then the Chief's wife made a statement.

"A thunderstorm in the snow? I feel this a bad omen..."

"Unlikely but still possible, wife." Hilmir replied. The Saksahanna spoke more quietly among themselves, wary of what the weather would bring. The sky cracked open, deafeningly loud, and colored sparks shot from the clouds. The people silenced, staring upwards. A few alarmed men rose from the ground, as did the Chief. Within a few seconds of that ear-splitting boom, black devils dropped from the skies, and immediately, Amaryllis's blood ran cold.

"Run!!!" She screamed, her voice shrill and petrified. The people glanced at her, and as the demons began to swoop down, the woman gathered their children and sprinted for shelter, their fathers collecting their weapons and readying to fight. The forlorn look in Hilmir's eyes revealed a truth he had not spoke of, and he dropped his gaze to Amaryllis.

"I'll not let you be part of another tragedy. Leave this place." He demanded. His heavy tone left no room for argument. He began to jog, claymore in hand towards the beasts that had begun to rip at the huts they carefully constructed. "You will not die here, Princess." He finished, and with a warrior's yell head into the battle of defending his people. Every fiber of her being told her to flee, but her heart commanded otherwise. She too reached for a weapon she knew to be more skilled with, a bow and arrow, and shot up at the demon birds. With a steady hand she aimed, and her arrow pierced into its flesh. To her surprise, it seemed to of done nothing but provoke the bird, that now dove towards her. In her peripheral, she saw another demon caught itself ablaze on the central fire, and now spread its flames throughout the camp. The woman and children that hoped for shelter in their homes now fled from them, and one by one she saw them perish. Rage consumed the Princess, and she dropped her bow to dash for a sword, in which the bird that pursued her changed direction. Her heart skipped a beat as it dropped to the ground and walked towards her.

"I see there were survivors, after all." The beast spoke, curling its thin lips into a sickening smile, that hid its shark-like teeth. "I find you to be far more entertaining than this flock." Even the voice of this creature Amaryllis found to be sinister. The creature chuckled, flexing the talons it had for feet into the earth. It then raised its wings, stretching to its fullest span and with it the surrounding demons had retreated to the skies. With a movement that could have been missed if she blinked, it lunged towards her and sunk its claws into the flesh of her shoulders, taking flight. Hilmir came back to charge at the bird, leaping to deliver a hefty blow with his blade. Amaryllis stabbed at its legs with the sword she had grabbed beforehand, but it only strengthened its hold and dug its talons deeper into her body.

"Amaryllis!!!" Hilmir shouted. Increasingly injured and at an angle where she strained to breathe, she attempted to speak back, but could not draw breath. As the people below her grew smaller, she  fought to keep her wits about her and devise a plan to free herself.

Upon the deaths of his small guard, Lucius intended to follow the tracks of the bandits in hopes that they would provide him some information regarding the attack. He inquired about who of the castle was buried, and if there were any survivors. He had many a question for the bandits, and in return for their answers would grant them clemency for their misdeeds. In the case the bandits had collected any soul sedge, the King was willing to trade the horses he dragged along, that once belonged to his men. And so, he had followed the prints with Adrinae's aide for nearly a day now, after stopping for a short rest. Their steeds grew weary, as they'd lacked sufficient water for some time now. As the two men agreed to search for a creek, they came upon a battered woman with her two children, covered in soot and clearly exhausted.

"What ails you, lass?" Adrinae asked, as the King pulled his cloak to conceal his head.

"Hell on Earth, good sir. Hell on Earth! My tribe is in great peril; our homes set ablaze..." The woman began to weep with her children. The King moved his horse near, looking ahead to see what appeared to be fog in the distance.

"What happened?" His gravelly voice rumbled.

"These... These beasts! They came as if from a storm and ripped our home apart before...Even my husband...!" She wailed, dropping to her knees. Her children hugged her from each side. The Chancellor glanced back at the King, and the two mirrored dire countenances. 

"Would you be willing to lead us there?" Lucius requested, and the mother contemplated with glassy eyes, embracing her children tightly.

"I cannot subject my children to such horror any further, I beg your forgiveness. If I may be of use I could provide directions..." The woman bowed, dropping her head.

"Raise your head, that would be of great help." The Chancellor smiled comfortingly. 

"Past these trees, upon the slope to the west. The smoke can be seen from here..." She whimpered. Already spotting what they had presumed to be fog in the distance, the two men knew exactly where to go.

"Take this mare as a token of our gratitude. May you find peace." The King offered, reaching for the lead of the horse tethered to his own steed. The woman rose from the ground to accept the horse, bowing her head as she did.

"Thank you, thank you so kindly. Gods be with you." The woman said graciously as she placed her small children on the mare's back. The King nodded in response with a tug of his hood, and quickly made way to the land beneath the fog.

"That was awfully generous of you." Adrinae commented, riding beside him.

"I needed to lighten my load. Time is of the essence." Lucius pushed his horse into a gallop as he finished speaking, and the horses he pulled behind fought to keep pace.

"Ah, that's more like you." Adrinae joked, raising a brow before he pushed his horse onward to catch up with Lucius. The tribe was closer than estimated, and they arrived quickly. To their relief, there were many survivors, unlike the Creoux's typical fashion. Each member of the tribe was able to describe in great detail of that past day. The two outsiders saw it appropriate to help lay the slain to rest, but the Chieftain insisted on a burial specific to their traditions, exclusive of the Bediverean royals.

"You are the King of Bedivere, are you not?" The Chief, bruised and bloodied, wondered.

"Yes." Lucius answered shortly. He did not enjoy being pressed on the matter.

"And you?" The orange-bearded man pointed to Adrinae.

"The King's guard and Chancellor, Adrinae Mycenri."

"I see. I welcome your presence in my tribe of the proud Saksahanna, but I apologize for our poor state. Those creatures may have dropped from the heavens, but they are certainly from hell. I am Hilmir, Chieftain of these people. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty."

"I take no pleasure in seeing such decimation, but I am relieved a genocide did not take place here. The beasts that attacked are known as the Creoux. They are a people married to black magics, a group that my bloodline has warred with for centuries. It is well known in my Kingdom that those beasts leave no man, woman, or child, living. I empathize with your tragedy. However, I must ask, how is it you are still alive? Surely the Creoux did not make an exception to their method for your tribe." Adrinae shot a tentative eye towards the King as he spoke, a look in which he ignored.

"I am glad you asked, for even I am not certain why we were spared. One demon landed, and with it stole a woman. After that, the attack ceased. Every monster disappeared with it." Hilmir tucked his thumbs in his belt, shifting his stance. "Certainly you have heard of the tragedy that befell Gentia?"

"...Yes, I have seen it myself. I take it your people were the visitors that buried the dead and took their remaining horses?"

"No, Your Majesty. It was the Princess who buried the fallen, the very woman stolen from our camp that became our salvation... Or perhaps sacrifice a more suited word. Though, I cannot answer for the horses." Adrinae turned towards the King, expecting a reaction of some sort, but the King was still.

"Are you sure it was the Princess?" The Chancellor ascertained.

"As sure as the emblem on her cloak and her mannerisms fitting. The lady could hardly handle a blade yet spoke and moved with such grace. I pray no harm comes to her..." Hilmir trailed off.

"She was wounded before she was taken; though my husband speaks of her grace, it could not save her from the antlers of a caribou. My silly husband took the gentle lass on a hunt. I wonder how she fares." The Chief's wife spoke.

"Surely we cannot permit such foe to do as they will with who seems to be the sole survivor of our great ally?" Adrinae directed his statement towards Lucius.

"Precisely. In what direction did the Creoux leave?" The King inquired.

"I only know of the direction from the one that took flight with the Princess. I attempted to slay it, but unfortunately I am not blessed with flight. It headed southward. The rest scattered into the skies." The Chief answered with subtle shame.

"Very well. Take these, you will make more use of them than I will." The King released the remaining horses that were leashed to his stallion, and took off in the aforementioned direction. Adrinae's eyes darted between the King and Chief, in which he quickly thanked the Saksahannans for their help.

"My King is most gracious for your direction and you have his sympathies in your time of need. Please accept these royal steeds as gratuity. I hope you may find them useful!" Adrinae's voice increased in volume so that the tribesmen may hear him as his horse trotted after the King. The Chief sighed, and his wife mumbled a quiet prayer for the impulsive men beneath her breath.