The horses moved slowly through the snow as they approached the camp, the riders as exhausted as their steeds. Steam rose by their every breath, and Theodren fell off his horse, as did many others.

"Adrian?" Selena walked over with confusion in her eyes.

Step after step in the crumbling of snow, she firmly gripped the Greymer's paralyzed body; her hand shaking with more than just the cold.

"Bandages... we need bandages!" Selena announced to everyone, sending members to run about the tents searching for what she asked, and four to lift the large man toward a dark pathway in the mountain side. "Set up a raised bed for him inside!"

"What about the others?" Theodren asked, turning to the freed prisoners.

She was already rushing to gather tools in the medic tent, with Adrian's body carried not far behind.

"Surely you've bindings for them? A piece of cloth to spare? An herbal remedy? A dash of ground poppy seed?" Theodren sighed. "...Not even ale to numb the pain?"

Theodren was not having it. He took his weakened strides upward, reaching the cave. Selena was already tending to Adrian as he entered.

"You were so quick to see him fit. Why not even the slightest glance to the others?" Theodren slouched against the then closed door, a screech from its wooden frame.

"You see these bandages?" Selena held out clean linen cloths above her left shoulder, her right trying to remove Adrian's armor in search of each wound's source.

Theodren stood silently.

"They're all that's left. You brought back with you Zerethian armor and weapons.... I can settle with that, but right now, with not an untainted bandage in sight, that can't be helped." Selena placed Adrian's armor on a nearby table, a clanging sound as it came to rest on solid wood."You've led them to a red river. Only time can tell which of them will pass and drown."

Theodren slumped all the more, as though a boulder had struck his heart; consumed by heavy breaths.

"It's a wonderful feeling, isn't it?" She paused. "To see the pain in others, but caged to it? To hold back your grudges to bind the wounds of guilt?"

"What do you mean?"

"The head of this army is dead, Theodren, and his second in command is.. a cripple in my hands..." she sighed with closed eyes, and a grip ever firmer to her cleaning tool, "I might be the true leader, but I'm only the ideas whispered in the ear of the speaker. Without Adrian I'd only have you, and right now, out of all manner of concerns, I am not ready to gamble your chest piece."

There was a brief pause.

"Is that all I am to you? A toy in your desire for success?" Theodren stood up.

"You were," she turned to him, still focused on Adrian's wounds, cleaning them out, "but not as a child plays."

Theodren stood silent to listen, a remedy to his anger, and was quick to realize the weight of her position.

"When I first met you, I saw a blind man. Now, I see that you've swallowed your pride; the outcry to save your brother."

"What's your point?" Theodren asked, shifted to concern once more.

"You must lead them now. I can rely on no one else." She opened the doorway for him, shaking as she stood. "Now leave."
_______________________________________

Darkness: a cold; damp, lonely, and lifeless nothing. Valora's eyes woke to it, with a distasteful musk in her scent. The clanging of metal grew the more she moved; of chains strangling her wrists and ankles. Her back and chest bitterly ached, for she was perpetually slouched against a rugged wall.

Fear began to overtake her, remembering why she was there, but not where.

She looked to the left, and her eyes were blinded by the light of an opened doorway. A candle's light shined in front of her, housed neatly in a lantern of glass. Upon the sight, the heavy doorway was shut, a draft of cold air to her skin.

There stood a being a few strides in front of her, with a face she could not recognize. A metal clang banged against the stone brick wall as she laid. It became obvious by then, much as the thought haunted her: she was in a prison cell.

Footsteps gathered towards her, bent knees to her level. She could see the being clearly then; a pale faced young man with dark silky hair resting cleanly on the top of their neck, looking to be Theodren's age. They had the face of an angel, much as the dark cell cloaked it.

Her chains began to rattle, her voice quivering at the sight, much as it hurt to move. The being gently placed their finger on her lip.

"Shh." They said; a gentleness with unclear intentions, yet that of an elegant man.

"W-who are you?"

They sat there for a pause, staring. They brought out their other hand, dust flying around their palm, a formless cloud hovering above.

"Like a bird I fly, tending to the path I tread." The dust became a bird of prey, soaring and singing.

Valora's face lit up.

"Like a mouse I scurry beyond the winds that guide my fate, leaving null but the dust that flows in my wake." And there crawled a mouse of clay, walking across his arm and jumping off his shoulder, fleeing outside the cell.

Valora was both in awe and horror at the sight, a focused look trying to hide its desiring gaze. The light of the candle shined on her wide open eyes.

"Like a bear I stand alone, feared by all who oppose me," a tiny bear walked on his hand, falling on to Valora's, and up the chains on her wrist, "...and like a dragon, I am the king above all creatures; courageous, mysterious, and powerful, yet desire no crown." A tiny dragon flew around him, clay dust blown out its mouth as it vanished to nothing. "I am you, yet I am not you."

"Where am I?" Her chains clanged in an echoed voice within the silence.

"You're home." They crouched beside her, carrying a stare that seeped through the cracks of her soul.

"Where is she?" Valora screamed, moving left and right to try and escape her chains, only making them echo more.

"I'm afraid the little one isn't here. The door is only open to those with the strength to reach it." They began, eyes peering away and then back again, "...and only the strongest will to surpass it."

Suddenly, her chains were broken free, clanging to the ground. The being released their hand to her once more.

"Take my hand."
_______________________________________

Step after step in the calmness of a grim grey sky of day, and a frozen white cast all across the distance; Sven could never grow used to the tedious sights and constant treading of it all. Pine trees cloaked themselves in that white, and the great mountains behind them stood tall with it as well, a large shadow in the morning. Slowly fading as the light continued to grow more present.

"Just a few more strides. Don't you worry, little lord." Valen looked back, his footsteps a consistent pace without struggle across the thick snow.

They were nearing the pine forest, a place no one would approach in the winter. The howls of wolves could be heard for miles from there, as it was their domain, but that was hardly what kept people away. It was not the wolves, nor bargs of the mountain tribes, let alone the white bears that walked about in the summer, but the great fridur: ice drakes.

Crumbling of snow became crunching of pine needles; they were in the woods.

"Any longer and my toes will fall off! Do you not know mercy, Valen?" Sven whined.

They had walked for many miles, yet aside from answering, Steffen hadn't said a word, his hands tightly kept in his pocket.

"Is mercy a friend of yours?" Valen looked back again, stopping in his tracks for once, turning towards the path ahead once more. "We are close."

They continued walking, a pause without anyone speaking, providing their footsteps greater volume crumbling in the snow.

"Wha' you plan to teach 'em?" Steffen crossed his arms across his waist.

"Oh, and the corpse speaks!" Valen continued looking forward, a glance with a raised eyebrow in surprise of how naïve Steffen was. "Just you wait."

Sven chuckled under his breath, like a fake cough.

Steffen smiled, if only for a moment, but quickly looked away; lowering his brow with clinched fists.

Sven looked ahead, and was awestruck. There stood walls of cracked stone bricks with ice and the weight of snow with a height no less than a wyvern; tall and proud. There stood a thick wooden door with reinforced with neatly scattered iron plates, with designs of a ship with a bear's head on the face of it, looking directly at them. The door was slightly cracked open.

"Well, you just gonna stand there and become food for a kaldur? It won't open itself." Valen said while grunting, pushing himself through the thick aged gate.

"You not worried about bandits? Surely such a place would be a beacon!" Sven said, hesitant to move near the door, walking forward and back again.

Steffen turned to Sven, not saying a word, just a look without any expression to it. He took his hands with a firm grip, throwing Sven through the crack without much effort.

"Could you not be more formal?" Sven attempted to get up from the snow inside the place, but was trampled by the weight of his baggage outside.

Steffen looked behind them, gazing down the tundra beyond; his hand beginning to shiver, but not from the cold.

"This place, Raedenson. Look at it." Valen stood by Sven, pointing him in each direction, seeing the damaged coating of ice and snow, with young pine trees growing inside. "Greymeria is already in ruin. The good that remains untouched has already been taken."

"Took a gamble to follow ye. Why we 'ere?" Steffen crossed his arms, concerned how they might survive the winter's cold, as they only had so much food in their baggage, and a dull ax to collect firewood.

"That is for Raedenson to decide." Valen walked forward, going uphill to a mansion above them; its walls thick with stone bricks and a door with stains of rot, and snow a blanket across the roof.

"What would I know?" Sven stood dumbfounded, following Valen as he opened the main door of the mansion, turning to Sven with a friendly smile.

"You're home." Valen turned to say.
_______________________________________

Outside the cell shined the bright light of a winter morning. The cold winds arrived merciless to the continually aching Valora, who in every step was anything but fond of the chills that met her pain.

"Fetch her a coat with a warm meal to follow. Guests should expect no less a gesture of good will." The being spoke with a loud voice to nearby servants. Valora's head was aching; still uncertain where she was. All she could remember was Ayda being taken away by Zerethian, seeing her screams muffled yet desperate to meet her.

The being dragged her on through pathway after pathway within dark corridors of thick stone brick walls, eventually reaching a room with an open window. The room seemed to be appropriate for royal guests, with a full-length mirror standing taller than them both, and a moderate bed of woven linen cloth with wool underneath it, and treated hide woven together at the base. Colors of grey, white, brown, and designs with purple and blue.

"Is this...my room?" Valora looked around, a confused look on her face.

"You'd be the first prisoner to on the same day receive it." The being replied, face still unrecognized. "No, this is mine."

They took off their hooded cloak, and her eyes were struck open.

Frightened, she fell to the ground, terrified at the sight. There he stood, the bringer of all horrid things; a large grin shined on his face from the light outside.

Standing before her was the one they feared and craved the ending above all others.. Almar...

"You cannot bear the sight of what is inevitable? Truly, as a warrior, I'd expect you stand on your feet!" Almar took heavy steps closer.

As much as Valora's urge to run filled her every waking thought, she froze, consumed by the weight of his aura.

"I jest. You've had a long journey. It's only fair I treat you well." Almar sat by a table, which creaked as he planted his feet. "Will you join me?"

Valora, legs shaken and mind without the will to respond, she slowly returned to her feet.

"Well, that's a start." Almar began, revealing a smile, when a knock came from the room door.

"Proceed." Almar turned to the doorway, a still sophisticated tone, as polite as before she knew who he was.

There arrived a wooden cart with metal plates, not a hint of rust or stains. The food was steaming, with a small bowl of expensive sauces and herbs. Various steamed vegetables were cut and neatly spaced on separate well designed and polished ceramic, likely from Drakari or further south; a fortune to the common peasant. There were cut pieces of white bread spread with seasoned butters; salty, sweet, and spiced. A silver goblet was placed on the table, with a servant arriving to fill it with what one would expect; expensive wine.

"Dismissed." Almar looked to the servants, four in total.

Each held a rather clean persona for servants, with clothing no commoner could afford. Woven colors in complex patterns, and washed faces with combed hair. Each one of them looked at fitting age; understanding the complexity of proper stewardship, yet retaining the energy for hard labor.

The servants bowed in respect, gently closing the door behind them with not a voice to be heard, just the slight creak and bolt of the door behind them.

She was starving, but would not admit it. Her growls, however, did not permit such trickery.

"I'm not too fond of meat, and for you it isn't much of a choice. That's one thing we have in common." Almar gave her a stern look, focused on his place and cutting with his utensils while glancing back at her.

She remained unchanged, making Almar provide a brief snark.

"Prisons aren't known for their meals. Behave and you might have it again." Almar sat the opposite of her, grabbing a piece of bread and dipping it in the sauce, holding it close to his mouth. "I'd suggest you savor it while you can."

Valora just sat there, blank. She would not turn her body directly towards him, let alone her seat at comfortable dining distance. She negated consistent eye contact, still in a trance of her stresses. All he received was an occasional glance; either at him, the food, or the doorway.

"It's not poisoned. That much I can assure you." Almar sat back, as though relaxed. "I've need for you yet."

Valora did not move, but found enough courage to speak, though soft.

"What do you want from me?"

"A desire; one that will arrive soon." He took a gulp of the food, a sip of wine to down it. "Do you shun hospitality? Take up a cup."

She muttered under her breath, turning to her side.

"Well done...you know quite well this isn't for you." Almar smirked, holding a meal knife on his right hand, a small seasoned vegetable on his left. "Royalty... A sputter to say it. The weight of gold, a beauty that cages the world. I envy to defy them as you do, something your father fails to grasp."

She glanced his way.

"Intrigued already, or is it the concern of Aran?" she turned away again, shaking. "My, but hadn't you sought to leave him?"

"It's not something you'd understand." She spoke softly again, a gripped fist, yet weary eyes.

"Oh, but I do." he gave a warm smile.

You could hear footsteps outside, the commotion of nobles and Zerethian. Valora turned her gaze to it.

"Guilt.. it's a spiteful thing... It punishes you for not doing what you could, yet fails to fathom that the world refuses to let you..." She peered up, brief as it was, as he continued. "I could cure it all if you join me."

Valora stood up at that remark, snatching a dinner knife and pointing the sharp end against his neck.

"Cure?" she stabbed him. "Cure? Is that what death is to you?"

The knife was dented, and Almar simply stared.

"Does it hurt?" he asked with weary eyes.

She gripped her fist, turning her back to him, holding her breath as though tasting bitter air, "why'd they have to die?"

"You say that as if you cared about them. Them of all people." Almar gently smiled, walking over to stand by her side. "They used you like a pawn. You were just a weapon."

Valora continued to evade the further he pursued her.

"You've not figured out why I brought you here, have you?"

Valora would not reply, focused on him with constant alertness despite her pain.

"I don't care to know!" Valora lashed back at him, her hair flung forward by her rage, redness overtaken on her pale face, her blue eyes like a tint of red overtaken by flame.

"Oh, but you do. Your little game of men; each one desiring to know why longer than any these fools could ever dream of considering." Almar stood up again, walking over to her and placing his hand onto hers. She refused to grip back.

He guided her to the open window, the cold breeze shining to them both. Her long silky darkened brown hair flowed cleanly behind her, exposing her pointed ears with a soft appearance to them, just as her face. Even to Almar, one could not take away a glance to her beauty, even in her unfortunate state.

"I've witnessed your struggles. How the poison was cured, how it overtook you... and the look of your pitiful eyes to see your father again. I've seen it all unfold. That poison of yours? It's a part of me, and so I am a part of you."

Valora's eyes widened at that last remark.

Almar turned back from the sights outside, looking to her face.

Valora took away her hand, walking back to face the doorway.

"You wish to escape it, don't you?" He said softly.

Valora maintained her distance, refusing to look his way, "leave me be."

Almar walked over to her, standing a respectable distance as he looked down towards her left glanced eye, her body shaking.

"That can be arranged, but I want you to know...I'm willing to help you."

At that moment, Valora's pain vanished. She turned to him, shocked and confused. He opened the doorway and walked out, a grab to her hand as he looked back to her, his royal robes as sophisticated as his stride, a guided path back to her cell.