Chapter 31 - The East Wall

The city of Halrahh sat with its back to two large rivers and the great expanse of Lake Halruaa, a lake primarily known for its devastating waters and unknown beasts within. As the hooves of horses clopped against cobble paths that quickly transferred to the hollow wood of docks seated above water, Marcello proudly recounted its merciless nature.

“Lake Halruaa is impossible to navigate by air with our skyships. The winds that blow down from the surrounding mountains of our nation all meet there, and don’t even think about traveling straight through the center. Everyone who is anyone that dares issue trade on the lake sticks to the outskirts where land is still visible. Any deeper out and you have uncharted territory of monster populations. We’ll have to take a day of our journey to navigate it.”

Aven and Lucian shared a look behind the man.

“So we have to pass through it?”

“Well, adding a day is nothing compared to the several days it would take to go around and across one of the rivers. I can’t afford to be gone long.”

Aven could feel Marcello smirk as they passed by several crowds of Halruaans all going to and from various ships that lulled easily upon the lakeside.

All sorts of extravagant traders hauled their goods on carts and in crates from several large haulships, while locals flitted about the row of much more sleek ferry boats that lined a section all on their own. Crew could be seen cleaning decks and hoisting sails, while those on another ship loaded a procession of horses below deck.

Lucian paused to drag icy blue eyes across the crowded jetty. His features held a paler shade than usual, and Aven swallowed down the urge to reach across for his hand. “Well it’s certainly a good thing Halruaa is slave free. Wouldn’t want another slavers incident.”

“That’s right,” Marcello hummed, turning a gaze back on them. “I’m sorry, I forgot traveling by ship might open wounds, but there is no other way to the Pass.”

“No matter. Which ship is ours?”

“Pick one. We will board as any ordinary passenger.”

Aven was no keener to return out on open water, his fingers twisting into Jorak’s reins. He watched several giggling girls with frilly dresses and outrageously tall updos hand over a few golden pieces to a man leaned against a post before boarding across a small ramp to one of the ferries.

The ships themselves all held different themes. One bore sails that spanned out like fins, its wood painted shaded blacks and white, a tail extending from its backside. Another was long and slender, a blue serpent at its mast. It was the one furthest down the docks that caught his eye. Built a tad larger than the others, great wings shot from its sides, a great fiery beast’s maw engulfing the front.

“That one’s a red dragon,” Kendyll whispered as she leaned from her saddle towards Aven. “You’ve also got an orca, a behir, and a roc.”

“Do they all look that crazy?”

A laugh parted the young woman’s lips. “We like to travel in style.”

“I like to travel… safely.”

Without another word, Aven drew Jorak off towards the largest of the ships. He could feel Lucian’s gaze on him the entire time, even as all of them dropped from their mounts before the boarding ramp.

The man that awaited was dressed in light clothing. A loose linen shirt buckled by a sharp leather vest, his hair held in a ponytail by a patterned bandana. He sailed forth to sweep into a bow. “My lords and ladies. Welcome to the Red, I’m your humble captain. Seats are a gold each, steeds cost an extra two for below deck holding.”

“Four seats, the same for the horses,” Marcello uttered quickly, producing a small pouch and tossing it to the Captain’s grasp. “The rest is for you to set sails immediately.”

A grin twisted onto the man’s lips as he haphazardly counted enough gold to feed several families. His fingers pushed up to his mouth and a harsh whistle sounded free. “Load up boys! We move out in five!”

Aven watched incredulously as two deckhands leaped down to take three of the four horses by their reins while the captain swung up onboard. One of them reached for Jorak’s and Aven put himself in between. “I’ve got this one,” he uttered hastily.

The young deckhand regarded him with a shrug of his shoulders. “Suit yourself. Follow us.”

It took no shortage of patience to maneuver the wild stallion onto the ship, let alone into the cramped stables below. By the time Aven made it above deck, the crew of the Red Dragon had already pulled the ship from the docks and out onto the choppy lake. He hosted a fresh bruise at his ribcage, holding it as he found the others seated to bolted chairs at the far deck.

Even so close to shore, the waves lapped ruthlessly at the sides of the vessel, rocking it to-and-fro. Invisible winds worked against the rampant breeze that cooled off the normally stifling heat that seized Halruaa outside of city limits.

Lucian and Marcello shared glasses of wine, the Netyarch’s feet propped across the tabletop while Kendyll plucked up a bite-sized sandwich skewered upon a stick from a whole platter of snacks.

Aven fell into a seat beside them and grimaced with a ripple of pain scorching his ribs.

“I’m surprised you made it out alive,” Lucian purred around the cup poised at his lips. “That horse is as stubborn as you are.”

“We came to an understanding.”

“Come here.”

Aven slowly leaned towards Lucian as the prince passed his glass for Marcello to hold. Fingers deftly hooked around to push against the barbarian’s chest, feeling out each individual rib and Aven hissed out. “Ow. What are you doing?”

“Hush.” Lucian prodded around a few more moments before withdrawing to lean back in his seat. “Alright, you’re fine. Nothing is broken.”

A warmth tangled in Aven’s chest beyond the pain of his ribs. His gaze remained on Lucian long after he returned to his glass of wine and conversation with Marcello.

Thanks.

The journey across Lake Halruua drew into the hours of night. As the sun began to set on the horizon, bleeding colors of reds and pinks in fractured colors against the powerful lull of the water’s surface, Aven stood at the railing. A heavy breeze fluttered and whipped through curls, tickling his face with a soft, fresh mist. It was cool against the heat that droned on in the night.

Not that he minded.

His fingers curved against the golden metal railing as he leaned to stare into the black depths of the water below. He’d never been on a lake. It was a stark difference from the ocean where crystal water boasted wildlife just beneath its surface. Here, Aven couldn’t see anything. There were no cries of gulls, no breach of dolphins or fish. An eerie quiet of waves against the creaking ship was all that stirred.

The others had made their way to cots for the night, Lucian and Marcello hot in the face with alcohol. But not Kendyll. Whether she’d noticed or not, he caught her sneaking out only seconds after ‘calling it a night’. She had climbed her way atop the masts of the ship, lounging out peacefully as night consumed the lake.

Even from where he stood now, he could make out her outline up top.

A sigh brushed his lips. Admittedly, Aven couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t rest. The roll of the waves and creaking of the ship pulled tension tight through his muscles. There was very little that made him feel relaxed as of late, but being on open water was not one of them.

Ghostly wounds consumed his thoughts.

He went to push off the railing and find something else to occupy his night when something drew his eye back to the water. A sheen of something brushed the surface of the water, glittering in new moonlight.

Did he see that right?

Aven leaned further over the edge of the ship, his grip tight at the rail. Surely enough, a few seconds later, it breached the surface again, this time closer. What looked like a long slithering form reached for the ship. A snake maybe?

No.

He saw another. Great, long tentacles. They were barbed. That was…

Aven wrenched back as one of the appendages slammed against the side of the ship, lurching it to the side. Several crates began to slide across the deck and upon the mast, Kendyll gasped out for purchase.

As the ship leaned, water sloshed onto the deck. Lucian! I think we’re being attacked.

The groggy fuzz of a slumber buzzed in the back of his mind and he grimaced. Dammit. That boy could sleep through anything.

By now, the ship’s crew had stirred. Bursting from his quarters, the Captain snapped an order at a few deckhands before leaping up near the ship’s wheel and peering down into the water.

“Mother of magic,” the Captain cursed his god. “We’ve got a live one! Everyone hold onto something.”

Aven got the sinking feeling he was used to occasions such as this. He grated his teeth together, sliding down the leaning and rocking upper deck towards the stairs down below. Another crash collided with the side and there was a splinter of wood somewhere behind.

As he dove below deck, skipping several of the steps, he turned his gaze towards the small cabin rooms attached. At the very back, he could hear Jorak’s protesting cries. That horse was going to hate him.

He flung open the first door he saw and locked a gaze with Marcello. The man stood steadying himself against his cot as a cloak was drawn around his frame.

“Perhaps it was simply too much to ask for an uneventful ride,” he uttered dryly, still flushed from the day’s drinking. Marcello pushed passed Aven, paying him a brief glance. “Next room over, handsome. Ugh, though normally I would have loved a strong man to come to my rescue. Time to see what the hell we’re dealing with.”

Aven stood in place a moment as the Netyarch made his way above. Nobles… were so strange. He shook his head and spun from the room to stagger his way to the next as a hole blew right through the ship’s hull. The spray of water soaked him, quickly beginning to pour in.

This wasn’t happening. Not again.

Pulling the second door open, he found Lucian curled up on his cot. Not asleep anymore, his knees were drawn to his chest, blonde hair falling in curtains around his face.

“Aven.”

Aven crossed the room to come at his side, sinking down onto his knees. “Lucian what are you doing? The ship is-”

“Under attack? I hadn’t noticed.” His fingers clenched tight around himself with a soft tremble. “What is it?”

A good question. Aven grimaced, reaching out to overlap his large hand with Lucian’s, giving a gentle squeeze. He considered it a moment. The barbed tentacles. The size.. He’d faced something similar before. A memory at the back of his skull. He could hear the roars of a crowd. The creaking of a ship…

“A kraken,” Aven responded. Sure. “I’ve fought one before. Come on, we need to get you above deck.”

Lucian didn’t argue, slipping down to hug at Aven’s side as they stumbled their way through the lower of the ship. Already the water was up to their ankles. As another hit splintered against the side, Aven swung the prince onto the steps, dodging a crate as it hurled and shattered against the wall.

Above deck, the crew fired down weapons and flares of magic into the water, while others scrambled to remove the tentacles that held tight around the boat. Beneath the kraken’s grip, the ship was beginning to bow.

Aven spun on Lucian. “I’m going to help them. Find Marcello!”

Before the prince could protest, he was gone, sweeping up a blade and joining the crew in severing the kraken’s hold on the ship.

He managed to help lob one off, a horrendous cry bellowing from beneath the water as more water washed over the deck. One of the crewmates slipped, pinwheeling towards the edge before Aven caught her arm, heaving her to the side of a beam to grab onto.

“Hold on!”

From his right, blue static lashed through the air. Aven gripped the ship’s beam, steadying himself to look.

At the front of the ship, Marcello hovered in air, the ship rolling beneath him. Soaked and features contorted in something of irritation. Aven had only seen the Netyarch angry once, and this didn’t quite resemble that.

Another bolt of lightning flew out from his palm, splintering against the water’s surface and leaping across. The tentacles around the ship released, flailing in the air as the beast cried. Marcello fired again. Ruthless. Several bolts flew into the water, electrocuting the area, crawling up the sides of the ship.

The captain dodged a lash of the live water as it sloshed on board.

Then all at once, the ship stabilized.

Aven raced from his spot to lurch over the edge of the railing and into the water. He caught sight of a large eye blinking up at him before the squid-like beast tore off into the depths of the water, seemingly disappearing.

He sagged in relief.

“I am truly beginning to dislike sailing,” Lucian quipped as he came beside the man. A cold fury lurked behind eyes of ice, his hair soaked and dripping in his face.

“Me too.”

Marcello lowered back to the ship beside them, stumbling a step before Kendyll was there to catch him. She looked no better from helping the rest of the crew with Aven.

“You’re crazy,” she hissed out. “Are you two alright?” Her gaze rose towards Lucian and Aven.

Aven nodded. “We’re fine. I thought… krakens only lived in the ocean?”

“Lake Halruaa connects to the ocean,” Marcello hummed out. “Well then. I’m surely awake now. Lets go speak with the captain and assess the damages.”

————————————

By breakfast they had reached land. Parting ways with the Captain and his crew, Aven had spent half an hour alone coaxing Jorak into letting him ride. It was a relief to be back on land where rolling hills and fields took up majority. There was little to sightsee on the long stretch of land that parted from River Maeru.

The better part of the day was spent baking in the sweltering heat as the sun blazed down on their shoulders. Every now and again, Lucian conjured an aura of cold to tickle at his skin and soothe the red burns beginning to fluster at his skin. For a reason or another, Kendyll and Marcello seemed not at all bothered, smug in their own silence.

Their group stopped only once in the afternoon for lunch and to allow the horses some rest. By then, they’d traveled far enough to catch a glimpse of the town of Zalazuu looming in the distance.

According to Marcello, it was their naval town. A host to the Halruaan’s army and fleet of ships that rested upon the Bay on the far end. Several of their most prominent skyships were also stored there. Nevertheless, it didn’t remain in their sights long before disappearing along the horizon as they moved on.

It was already nearing dark on the second day when the lush green plains of Halruaa turned dead and withered. Like a scar of the earth, everything in the area was dead. Trees long petrified jutted up and slumped over as mere logs. Where there was grass, it was coarse and sharp. Where there wasn’t, the soil was dry.

The horses kicked it up beneath their hooves like rubble, stamping it tightly packed down with the rest. Aven’s brown gaze flicked about the land with a frown at his lips. “What is this?”

“It looks somewhat like The Wastes back in Aeliorn,” Lucian noted as he passed on his cream colored horse.

From at the front of the group, Marcello didn’t answer, his single eye searching the horizon before a finger pointed out. “There. Up ahead there are some ruins we can camp in for the night. It’ll be better than out in the open.”

Aven followed where the man pointed. Sure enough, a crumbled building reduced to nothing but slumped over slabs of stone rested upon the scarred earth. In fact, there were several clusters of ruin making up what once was a small town.

“Marcello.” Lucian rode up beside the Netyarch. “I could simply summon us a cabin.”

“No. We’re nearing closer to the Pass. Patrols are likely to move through here, we shouldn’t draw attention.”

As he rode on ahead, Kendyll gave the two foreigners a sympathetic look. “Lets just settle in, you’ll have better luck getting him to explain then. But you’re right, Lucian. It’s similar to what happened in Aeliorn.”

Ten minutes later and everyone had dismounted among the first ruined building. The horses had been tied to a remaining column while Marcello summoned several light sleeping bags to lay out in a line beneath the starlight.

That left Lucian on fire duty.

He brazenly insisted on gathering any wood suitable for a fire, stacking the sparse twigs and logs in a pile. His knees bit into the ground as he plucked a sturdy stick from it, placing it atop one of the logs and whittling it down between his hands.

Marcello glanced up from his handiwork with a frown. “What are you doing? Just use a spell.”

“Absolutely not. If we aren’t making a fuss with a magical cabin, surely we can make a fire normally as well.”

Aven feigned the man a look of exasperation. “Just let him. It’s best not to argue.”

“If you say so.” Marcello clicked his tongue, falling onto his sleeping bag and pulling his knees up to his chest.

Lucian spent five minutes toying with the stick and log. Eventually he recoiled with a scowl. “You know what, I may have some oil.” He moved aside to dig through his pack, producing a small little bottle of oil and setting it to the side. Followed by a flint and tinder. “Preparing does payoff.”

“I’m sure it does,” Marcello lamented.

The prince wrinkled his nose towards the other before turning the bottle of oil upside down over the logs, slathering them in the fluid.

Aven felt his gut turn. “Lucian wa-”

Lucian had already plucked up the tinder and flint, striking the firestarter.

A spark flung free, striking atop the mass of wood and oil. Flames roared to life, a column of smoke lifting into the air. When it settled, Lucian stood with pieces of his hair seared at the front, his face covered in soot.

“…There. Now that’s a fire.”

Kendyll fell back on her sleeping bag in a fit of laughter as she hugged her sides. “Lucian! That was brilliant!” she laughed.

Aven shook the paleness from his features as he grabbed the prince by his shoulder, easing him away from the fire. “You did it. And we didn’t die. Good job.”

“Of course we didn’t die. You shouldn’t doubt me, I am capable of survival.” Lucian resigned to his own sleeping bag pulled up next to Aven’s, letting his head rest upon his shoulder.

The notion alone left Aven’s cheeks heating red, his large fingers coming up to brush through platinum hair.

“Anyways,” Marcello began, tugging a flask from his robes and lifting it to his lips for a long swig. He seemed to always be reaching for more wine. “About the land, it was caused by the Spellplague.”

“Spellplague?” Aven looked up in confusion.

“Yes. I imagine it affected Aeliorn as well. But a long long time ago, the goddess Mystra who created the weave from which all magic originates was assassinated by some of the other gods. When she died, the Weave was destroyed. All magic as we knew it was wiped out.” Marcello frowned. “Halruaa has always been a place of magic, it is a part of our everyday life. It runs thick through our lands, much like it does Aeliorn.”

“It is why we have always worked so closely together,” Lucian noted.

“Exactly. But unlike Aeliorn, Halruaa has always worshipped the goddess of magic. Her death and the plague sent our land into turmoil. It withered away and became entirely uninhabitable. Those who remained would fall gravely ill and more quickly than not perish. Mystra’s rebirth managed to restore much of our home, but as you can see, scars still remain, reminding us of what happened.”

“Was this town part of the world before, then?”

Marcello flicked his gaze to Aven and gave a nod. “These ruins are of an Ancient Netherese civilization that was more commonly seen in the era before the Spellplague. Those people have long since died out, their empires having almost entirely crumbled. Many believe they’ve gone entirely extinct.”

Aven could feel a headache coming on as he sighed, feeling Lucian discreetly twine their fingers behind them as if he’d sensed it too. “I don’t know much of any history,” he muttered to himself.

“Because you were a slave,” Marcello guessed. “I thought it was common for slaves to be educated? Even those in Calim are.”

His head shook. “I don’t think so. I was only ever taught what was vital for me to know to do my job. I fought. But…” Aven’s cheeks stained red. “Lucian started teaching me how to read.”

“If you could call it that,” Lucian muttered. “I’m sure toddlers could pick it up faster.”

Marcello leaned back with a hum. “Keep at it. People learn certain things at different paces. Kendyll can read something once and remember it for the rest of her life whereas I’m always stuck pouring over books until I can’t see straight.”

Kendyll smirked. “Not everyone can be a genius.”

“You’ve always been talented, Kendyll,” Lucian chuckled. “If I recall, you’re also quite good with instruments. I wish I had my violin. We could have played together.”

Aven turned his gaze to Lucian in surprise. “You can play the violin?”

“Of course I can. I have taken lessons ever since I was little. Perhaps we’ll play another time. For now… Marcello what can you tell us about Dambrath? I admittedly don’t know enough about it.”

“Mm, well, it’s ruled under a pretty harsh system,” Marcello replied. “Most of the people there have drow lineage, making them quite cruel in nature. They’re called the Crinti. For the sake of it all, its easier to call them half-elves, but aside from them, you also have the Arkaiuns. They’re the human population and unfortunately, they are vastly mistreated. The Crinti are incredibly racist towards them, often using them as slaves or locking them out of higher society.”

Aven withered at the idea, his eyes dull with irritation as he hugged a knee up to his chest.

Whether Marcello noticed, he didn’t let on. “Dambrath is also governed by a matriarchy, which means the women rule over society. And further than that, rather than a single governess, they have five. They’re called the Matriarchs. Each one of them has ruled over Dambrath since I can remember, but I’ve never actually met them. Unfortunately, as a male human I’m about as inferior in their eyes as I can get. Once we cross over into their lands, we’ll need to don disguises to fit in.”

“You mean we’ll need to become females,” Lucian prodded. “Surely I pass well enough as is.”

“You look nothing like an Arkaiun though. Aven would actually fit their genealogy quite well. But we’ll save it for morning. We should rest. We’ll need an early start.”

Aven practically slumped onto his sleeping bag. “Fine by me.”

Lucian smothered the beginning of a grin as it twitched at the corner of his lips before sliding into his own sleeping bag. He rolled with his back to Aven.

Soon, the fire was all but embers, the cloth of sleeping bags rising and falling with even breaths.

——————————-

Aven was kicked awake in the early hours of dawn. The sky was still coated in pastels and the remnants of night as a boot drove into his back.

“Get up,” Lucian’s voice hissed. “We have to go, now.”

Brown eyes blinked open tiredly, swimming with sleep as they came to focus on the blonde towering over him and wearing a scowl. “What…?” he got out in a low groan. Another sweep of a boot hit his back and Aven pushed up to keep anymore from following. “Alright! What’s going on?”

As he sat up, he found Marcello and Kendyll quickly gathering their things, supplies being swung up onto horseback.

“Shh. Patrols.”

Lucian was always so cruel after being rudely awakened before he was ready. His hair stuck up messily on one side, his clothes rumpled from a hard sleep.

Aven wheeled his head around to look off in the distance where a cacophony of voices and hoofbeats sounded. Parting through the ruins were a dozen men on horseback all chattering amongst themselves.

In seconds he was on his feet, trailing behind Lucian towards Jorak and Soleil. Everyone mounted quickly, unsecuring the reins from their posts and ducking behind the ruined slabs jutting up from the ground.

Where they hid, Lucian outstretched his palm and summoned a cold mist to sweep over and shroud them like a fog. It billowed over the flat land.

Jorak cantered back and forth on uneasy footing and Aven ushered him still.

The voices neared closer. After a few minutes, the procession of scouts swept by the party hidden within the fog without an inkling to their presence and eventually they passed on without incident.

Marcello heaved a breath of relief, sinking his face into the neck of his horse tiredly. “I hate to say it, but if we’re up, we should go ahead and make for the mountainside. We’ll be reaching it shortly.”

“Fuck you,” Lucian muttered irritably, kicking Soliel forward out of the fog.

It took only a few hours of riding through the early morning before the sun reached its peak in the sky. The mountains that had loomed so far in the distance were upon them, and with it brought a cool draft of air that swept down from the snow-capped peaks.

Aven gave a breath of relief, eager to drink in the cool atmosphere as winds swept through sweaty locks of hair. “Oh that’s good,” he groaned.

“Careful what you wish for,” Marcello warned at the head of the group. He drew his horse to a stop, a keen gaze sweeping towards the clear path winding between the mountains. The Azhul Pass in all of its glory. One of the only ways through the great walled peaks surrounding Halruaa. “We can’t afford to go directly through the Pass. A guard post rests at its center. They’re currently under orders to bar all travel into Dambrath and considering we’re doing this in secret, I can’t simply ask them to stand aside.”

“You want us to hike the mountains?”

“I don’t want anything, Lucian, but we have no other choice.”

“Great. Anything else?”

“They’re steep, horrible to navigate, and blistering cold compared to the rest of the land.”

In anticipation, Lucian drew his cloak tighter around his frame. “Well then, let’s make it quick.”

And cold it was. They had barely begun to navigate the rocky slopes of the East Wall and Aven’s fingers were already numb. Cold winds washed down in gusts, blowing robes and knocking stones and rubble loose from the mountainside. Even with a cloudless sky and the sun’s rays beaming down, making the snow glisten like gemstones, no heat reached them.

Kendyll picked ahead of the group on her sleek Dambrathian mare, careful hooves placing down on uneven ground.

It was terrible to navigate. With little footholds and steep inclines, the lack of pathing was a battle for the horses. Especially Jorak. Aven had fallen behind the others, him and his heavy warhorse slipping and sliding with every step.

The stallion dug a hoof in and several stones knocked free, bouncing and bounding down the mountain. He gave a blustering breath, the heat of it rising in mist from his nostrils, and Aven touched the side of his neck knowingly.

“Uh… hey guys!” he called ahead.

Lucian glanced back from atop Soliel, a blonde brow raised. “Need something?”

“Yeah, uh. I know you and your pretty little horses are having a grand old time, but what about us? I’m a big man on a big horse. This isn’t working.”

“Well, big man on a big horse, perhaps try not falling.”

Aven’s cheeks flared red, the cold biting at them. “Great, yeah thanks. I didn’t even think of that. Lucian! I’m serious. We’re floundering back here.”

Lucian opened his mouth in a retort when Kendyll screamed out. Ahead, her horse slipped on its footing. It scrambled, a panicked bray crying out, but it wasn’t able to catch itself upright. They slid.

“Kendyll!” Marcello called out.

Kendyll was thrown off the equine’s back, rolling and striking a stone jutting out before crashing against a ledge below Aven. The horse landed beside her and kicked out to find its feet but quickly fell again.

Marcello leaped from his horse in an instant, abandoning it where it stood as his hand lashed out. “Hold on, don’t move!” He worked fast. His magic lashed out, forcing the great mountain to part to his will. Stone and rock trembled and shaped into a clean staircase.

No one else had a chance to react as he raced down them, skidding before his sister on his knees. “Kendyll,” he hissed out, helping her sit upright.

She grimaced, a line of blood trickling from her temple. “I’m okay.. It’s okay, really Marcello.”

“No it’s not, you’re hurt.” His gaze fanned down to the twisted wrist held protectively at her chest and drew a wand from his robes. “This will help.”

By now, Lucian and Aven were there to help. As Marcello used the wand to mend his sister’s wounds, she was passed off to them as his attention turned on the horse as well.

“…You should have left the falling to me,” Aven murmured to the girl as she leaned to him.

She spared him a teasing glare, still shaken. “Very funny, mister charming.”

In no time at all, Kendyll was helped back onto her horse, only this time at Marcello’s side due to the man’s insistence. Everyone took care to move side by side, traversing the mountain together rather than at their own pace. It was slower, but safer.

They’d made it halfway up the mountain when Lucian shuddered. His porcelain skin was blistered red from the cold at his cheeks, nose and ears. Aven was quick to pass over his cloak, draping it upon the prince’s shoulders and refusing any argument.

Several more arduous hours dragged on in the frigid cold. With none of them too used to the bitter temperatures, Marcello swore up and down until they finally came to the top of one of the lower peaks leading into the swamp linking Dambrath and Halruaa.

Almost invisible in the dwindling daylight, the second he reached the top he flung from his horse, his boots crunching into snow. “Oh, that’s it. That’s it!” he laughed out. Marcello spun on a heel as the others joined him. “Lucian, fuck being discrete. Get me inside a cabin right now.”

“Gladly,” the prince uttered. He threw out his hands and knitted his eyes in focus as a symbol of conjuration appeared on the ground a short distance away. Its soft blue glow reflected against the snow, and in seconds, a cabin began to materialize, building itself plank by plank.

Aven dropped next to them. His fingers curved numbly into Jorak’s reins as a hand rose to cover his mouth as he coughed. “I’ve got the horses. You all head inside.”

Marcello didn’t argue. In seconds, his steed was passed into Aven’s grasp, his cloak rippling and disappearing behind a closed door. Kendyll followed. She passed by Aven and brushed a hand gratefully to his shoulder.

It left only him and Lucian.

Lucian’s gaze locked on him before narrowing. “You sure? How are you feeling?”

“Like hell. We just hiked a mountain in the freezing cold, how am I supposed to feel?” As he spoke, he led the horses to the side of the cabin and began to loop their reins around the attached posts. Thankfully, Lucian’s cabin graciously came with a small overhang to protect the animals.

Once he was done, Lucian motioned him inside. “Well I’m sure Marcello can boil us some of the soup he packed. Come on.”

“Actually,” Aven began with another rough cough. “I think I’m going to just call it a night.”

They pushed inside the cabin and the cold practically melted from their bones. Built with everything needed for survival, the cabin boasted a small seating area by the fireplace as well as a kitchen accompanied with a functioning furnace and stove top. Two doors led into respective bedrooms.

Lucian paused just inside the doorway, watching as Aven made his way into the first bedroom without a word, swinging it shut behind him.

“He’s not going to eat?” Marcello asked from his place nestled against the fire. His hands were just inches from the flames, numb fingers slowly defrosting. “I was going to make us something to eat before bed.”

“Apparently not.”

Kendyll dripped out of a majority of her wet clothes and collapsed on the couch. “I don’t blame him. Has he ever even seen snow before?”

Lucian slid his jaw, abandoning his own damp robes as well by the door. “Not like this. Start up the food, Marcello. I’m going to check on him. He was coughing.”

“Aren’t you cute when you worry. Scared your big handsome lover is sick?”

“He’s not my lover.”

The door slammed shut behind Lucian as he stomped into the room Aven disappeared into. His gaze followed a line of clothes leading to the bed before finally falling to rest on Aven who blinked miserably at him from beneath the covers.

“Lucian…” he murmured.

“Hmm?”

“I lied. I don’t feel good.”

A sigh parted from Lucian as he moved around the other side of the bed and slid in beneath the covers beside him. “I know. Let me feel your forehead.”

Aven wriggled close to him, bare beneath the blankets save for his linen underwear. As he pressed close to Lucian, Aven’s skin blazed with heat, yet he seemed to be seeking it more than anything from the petite blonde.

The hand delicately pushed to Aven’s forehead despite it. “Not that it was hard to tell, but you’re feverish.”

“Then you should go,” Aven whined. “I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I’ll be fine.” Lucian leaned over to replace his hand with lips, kissing Aven’s temple. “Wait here. Marcello is making some soup. I’ll come back with a wet rag as well and we’ll see if we can’t get your fever down.”

He went to push up from the bed and Aven wriggled an arm free to grasp him. “Wait.”

“What is it?”

Aven sailed forward in a haze to tenderly kiss Lucian’s cheek. “Thank you.”

The prince swallowed, giving a slow nod as he eased Aven to lay back down. Without a word, he swept from the room and back into the living space of the cabin.

As promised, Marcello boiled a few servings of the soup he’d stored away for the trip on the stove while Kendyll snored softly on the couch, already asleep.

“How is he?”

“As expected. He might be as hot as the furnace.” Lucian drifted over to sit in a chair, watching Marcello stir a wooden spoon through the brother. “Didn’t know you cooked.”

“Oh absolutely not. The-” His cheeks flustered and he sighed. “The Castellan pre-made some meals for us to warm for the journey.”

“You told him? Marcello I told you not to tell anyone.”

“No. Listen, you weren’t raised with him, I don’t expect you to understand, but Lucian there are several things about the Castellan that you simply can’t help.” He turned from the pot and lifted a finger. “One, there is not a secret in the world that he will not find out about.” Another finger went up. “Two, no demand in the world will ever make him tell you his name or age. Three, he can and will help us even if we tell him not to. Oh. And four, he never takes days off.”

Lucian smirked. “Can I have him then? I’d love to be babied.”

“Piss off, he’s my surrogate father. Get your own.” Marcello poured a bowl of the soupy broth and slid it towards Lucian. “Now go take care of your idiot.”

“Goodnight Marcello.” Lucian swept the bowl into his grasp and quickly wetted a rag out in the cold snow before making his way back to Aven.

Inside the room, Aven had turned into the pillows, the blankets twisted tight around his body as a cough rattled in his chest. He scarcely heard Lucian until the bowl settled to the nightstand and the bed dipped beside him.

“How are you feeling?”

Aven flicked a droopy gaze up and pouted.

A laugh vibrated in the prince’s chest. “That’s cute. I suppose you aren’t used to being sick. Come on now.”

The both of them shuffled about the bed as Lucian draped the rag over Aven’s forehead, helping him sit up against two pillows as the bowl of soup was shifted before him.

“What if I vomit.”

“Make sure it’s not on me. I will kill you.” Lucian dipped the spoon into the broth and brought it to Aven’s lips. “Try just a few.”

Aven resigned. He opened his mouth and warmth exploded against his taste buds, scalding the back of his throat as he swallowed.

“Good?”

A soft nod. “Good.”

Lucian summoned another spoonful and repeated the process. A total of five bites were managed before Aven’s stomach turned and they abandoned the soup.

“Lucian… Am I going to die?” Aven groaned as he sank into the bed, his face several shades of green beneath pallid features.

“No, it’s likely just the flu.”

“The flu!? That sounds bad. My mom died when she got sick. So did my brother.”

“…Aven. You’re not going to die. Just get some rest. The flu is very common.”

Aven sniffed and rolled onto his side, squirming until his arms roped Lucian into his blazing warmth. “Stay with me.”

Lucian strained against strong arms as he tried to find a comfortable position to lay. “I will. Just let me-”

A breath blew several strands of blonde hair into his mouth and he sputtered, turning a blue gaze towards the man. His words died in his throat as another heavy breath followed. Aven’s eyes were closed, his head nuzzled close to Lucian’s. Asleep. He sighed, leaning over to peck his lips against Aven’s hooked nose.

“Goodnight Aven.”