A white horse with long mane and feathered feet is the first thing that we see, being at the head of the group.

It's rider's face is hidden by the shadows of a dark hood, and behind them, several men on dark horses. As we ride closer to each other, I see the unmistakable black eyes of the white draft, and I immediately recognize it as a Vann Hest.

Kaladin keeps his broadsword by his side as our clans pull to a stop in front of each other.

Lasreal pins his ears, and gives a small screech when he sees the other beast, and I try my best to steady him. The other Vann Hest flicks his ears back and roars back in return, a malicious glint in his fish eyes.

I see Adolin shiver at the sound of the beast cries, and Jed glances warily at me. Now they all know for sure that Lasreal is no ordinary horse. The other ponies shy and show the whites of their eyes, whinnying and quivering nervously.

Some of the men in front of us have the blue and yellow colors on with my kingdoms symbol of a rearing horse on their chests, but none are from my personal Guard. They have come far in search of me.

I catch the eye of one man near the flank, and his eyes hold an unsettling familiarity. He seems to have a small flash of recognition, but it is gone as quickly as it had come.

I had recognize him as soon as I lay eyes on him. My brother. He had died at war, I know he had! But this is surely him, right in front of my eyes, the man who taught me everything...

Lance does not wear my colors, but instead, bears the greens and whites of Whales, the stamp of an eagle on his broad chest.
Why Whales? Why not mine? Why had the bastard not come back to me if he had survived!

I clench my hand into a fist and kneed it into Lasreal's dark neck in frustration. Though I feel like an erupting volcano on the inside, I keep my face clean of emotions as I stare at him.

The man in the front on the white Vann Hest is also in the colors, but his clothing is made of far better quality cloth and his tight fitting shirt looks much more comfortable on the skin. He lowers his hood. His hair is perfectly black, with eyes as green as the lush ferns and trees around us. He wears a crown that fits his head snugly, and appears to be made of sliver that is twisted into an incredible pattern around his forehead. He looks to be about twenty-five years of age.

It must be the prince of Whales, the next in line beside his father  to rule the wealthy kingdom that lies in the hills near the ocean, a days ride from Nordic. Approximately a two days ride from here. It had been two since I left.

It infuriates me that the king had sent his son to come in search of me, most likely in attempts to impress my father. But what is most unimpressive, is the fact that he wouldn't come and look himself. How pathetic.

"Excuse us," The prince says with a slight accent. "Have you seen a young girl around here? She would have been riding by herself."

I swallow, in fear that his brief description would give me away to Kaladin and Adolin.

To my relief and utter shock, Kaladin laughs curtly. "Had I seen a girl," He says, staring at the man with narrowed eyes. "I would have killed her. But lucky for you, I have not."

The man furrows his brow, apparently insulted. "I beg your pardon, but you must have been born daft if you are talking to me this way. Do you know who I am?"

Kaladin sneers. "Oh yes, your highness, if you've seen one spoils prince, you've seen em all." My jaw nearly drops with how he addresses the prince, his own or not, he could easily be killed for his scrutiny.

The prince draws his sword, face red with rage, and Adolin and Jedediah do simultaneously, the metallic sound echoing off of the trees.

The prince's men follow suit, and I decide that I should draw mine as well so I do not look out of place.

Syl whips her bow out and trains an arrow at the man with a glare in a fluid motion.

Kaladin points his blade at the man on the big horse. "You do not want to quarrel with us. Now let us through."

The bridge of the Prince's nose is pinched in a silent growl as he glares at our leader. "I know the likes of you. You mercenaries." He spits. "I should have you hanged. " There is a muffled snort of laughter from Adolin, and Jedediah soon joins in. One of the horses whinnies.

"I'd like to see you try."

It is now getting difficult to keep Lasreal calm, as I had been mentally soothing him and holding him still, but he now stamps his foot and snorts impatiently. We need to leave soon or I don't know how much longer I can keep him, not with the white Vann Hest eying him up the way he is. He seems to smile at him and tosses his head in a ripple of white mane, giving a mocking growl, daring Lasreal to give a challenge to him.

Lance glances back to me, his eyes flicking to Lasreal. He must recognize him, he is the one who took me to catch him on a beach near Whales. I dig my nails into the palm of my crippled arm, trying to push away the faintness that I feel, and pull it closer to my body as he looks back to me. I feel my hand sicken with blood, and I nearly wince. Nearly. I need to know that this is real, and not a dream. It had been years since I had seem my brother. He had been killed. And he had chosen to let me think that way.

Bastard.

He glances down to my bandaged shoulder, then to my hand were scarlet had begun to visibly drip in between my fingers.

I grimace and press my hand flat against my stomach to hide his view of it. I am going to bleed to death at the rate I've been going the past two days. I feel my head swim, whether with fairness of lack off blood, or from this occurrence, I cannot tell.

Stop it.

I tune out what Kaladin and The prince were yelling at each other, lifting my eyes to Lance's once again.

Don't harm yourself Lyra.

I am too shocked to answer right away. No one had spoken to me like this since he left, yet another reason I thought he had died. I never bonded with anyone else enough to do it.  He must have had his mind block up so I could not reach him.

I do the math in my head to come to realize that he is twenty-four now, but his face seems more aged from unknown hardships. He has a dark beard around his mouth and chin, nearly unrecognizable from how he used to look.

When our people have a strongly profound bond with one another, we can speak like a rider does to his Vann Hest: through our minds and feelings.

You bastard. Is all I manage to say before looking away from him. If I had to look any longer I would not be able to hold back the tears that gather in my throat.

I hear his sigh echo around my brain. Lyra, I am sorry.

You should be. You left me alone. I thought you were killed when you didn't return with the others.

Well , I was not.

Apparently.

There is a long silence before I speak again. I missed you brother.

I sense the smile in his words. And I you, young one.

I almost did not notice that Kaladin had somehow resolved the fight with the Prince until Lasreal lashes out at the white draft when he passes by us. I manage to yank his head back before he got any flesh between his teeth.

We had somehow agreed to let them pass without harm to my group. Kaladin must me a smooth talker.

The Prince's bodyguard, a big man with rippling muscles shoots me a foul look that I ignore. My eyes are on Lance as he passes by, and his on mine.

Please, I beg. Just don't shut me out again. I couldn't bare it.

He nods the slightest, a ghosts of a smile passing his lips. I promise. You know how to reach me, and I expect soon. I won't miss your explanation as to why you are with this band of fugitives.

I tear my eyes from his back. And I expect the same from you.

The sound of his light, silvery laugh dusts the corners of my mind, and it is the last thing that I hear before I am pushed on to follow the mercenaries when Kaladin's sharp whistle cuts my thoughts.

Arse.

I nudge Lasreal forward, and I feel his displeasement with me for keeping him from his fight, but he moves on anyways. I had found my brother, and that is all that matters to me right now. Everything else is on the back round.