The journey back to Caldris was widly diffrent from the tense, watchful ride to Valdrathar.
The oppressive presence of the Umbra Heralds was gone, replaced by the familiar camaraderie of the Caldrisian guards. The Silvershade Valley, though still bearing the scars of the recent ambush, felt less nacing, the shadows less deep, the silence less oppressive.
Perhaps it was the knowledge that they were returning ho, or perhaps it was the sense of purpose that now drove them, but the journey felt lighter, faster, despite the lingering unease of the coming war.
Kaelen rode at the head of the column, his gaze fixed on the horizon, his mind a mix of plans and strategies. The thirty-day reprieve granted by the Emperor was a double-edged sword.
It gave them ti to prepare, to rally their forces, but it also gave Xarnis the sa opportunity. Ti was a luxury they couldn't afford to waste, with the very existence of his kindom hinging on that simple mont.
Garron rode beside him, his usual jovial nature tempered by a quiet seriousness.
"The coming months will be entertaining thats for sure," Garron said, breaking the silence that had settled between them.
"certainly," Kaelen replied, his voice low and thoughtful.
The Voidwell's influence was a constant presence, a shadow lurking at the edge of his awareness, an itching in his fingertips that makes him feel like needing to reach out and do his duty.
Consu. Protect. And Repeat.
He could feel it tugging at him, tempting him with the promise of power. He could feel his heart grow colder, but his determination to rebuild was far greater than any internal conflict.
Kaelen's jaw clenched against the voidwell's whispers in his ears.
"You have to reach out for more" it said and continued to whisper "You have to protect your ho, and to do so, consu" .
They rode in silence for a while, and continued their journey as such.
Kaelen used the travel to prepare himself for the task at hand. His mind kept playing out various scenarios of their war against Xarnis. It was not looking as bright as what he needed or what he would like, the path was thin and full of thorns for him and his kingdom.
He would need to gather many more souls should he wish for his own power to beco even a percentage of what it had been during his last life and even then, Xarnis had far greater numbers, a clear military advantage.
He would need to pull a rabbit out of a hat this ti.
———
Garron would do his best to try and lift his spirits during the stops but they always seed to just disappear into thin air, the coldness of the Voidwell a stronger and faster corruption than even before.
It made his stomach turn. His mories continued to dwindle. He could no longer recall the details of his ti spent within the brothel re nights prior to this point, or more of how the laughter from his youth would sound when he and Lysa spent ti together.
They made steady progress, stopping only for brief rests and to replenish their supplies. The guards, though tired from the long journey, remained vigilant, their eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of danger.
They had not been gone long but with his dwindling mory, he feared that the roads ahead would not even be familiar any more, the scars of his first life was all that remained with haunting clarity.
Kaelen could feel the energy of the land shifting as they drew closer to Caldris.
The vibrant pulse of nature grew stronger, the whispers of the wind carrying a familiar lody.
It felt comforting.
On the final day of their journey, as the sun began to set, they reached the crest of a hill overlooking the fertile plains of Caldris. The sight before them was breathtaking.
Fields of golden wheat stretched as far as the eye could see, their colors ablaze in the light of the sun.
This is how it had been. The vision of beauty had been burned upon his retinas so deeply that it seed no loss of mory could ever take it away.
But it did.
The Verdant River, a ribbon of silver winding through the heart of the land, and further along the plains, stood Vernal Keep, the capital of Caldris, its ancient walls rising from the earth like the bones of a slumbering giant.
Kaelen stared at the vision before him, his eyes welling with an emotion he couldn't quite place.
He had once seen this landscape covered in smoke and ash, this very valley reduced to a charnel house.
"We're ho," Garron said softly, his voice filled with a mix of hope and sadness.
This was the reason they did what they did, what motivated all their moves. To have this remain alive, for as long as they could. Perhaps with enough chaos, with enough change. Maybe they both could stay alive forever.
But now as he glanced at his prince, all he could feel was worry for him and dread for himself, a fear of what his fate would soon beco.
Kaelen nodded, his heart aching for the mory of what his ho was, and of the dream that was now to beco his burden. He spurred his horse forward, the rest of the guard following, their eyes filled with a mixture of hope and anticipation.
They descended the hill, their hooves beating a steady rhythm on the soft earth, the scent of wheat and river filling their lungs. The gates of Vernal Keep stood open, the banners of House Verath fluttering in the wind.
Kaelen Verath, the Ash Prince, had returned.
Reviews
All reviews (0)