Waking up alone had been the strangest thing. No hooting, no nibbling at his ear, no dead mice dropped on top of him. Not that he particularly missed that part.

The silence had settled like an ominous foreboding in his chest. He ran a hand over his face, rubbing the remnant of sleep from his eyes. Instead of fretting over Nebula, who most likely could fend for herself, he should be glad that none of the Royal Guard had come to arrest him yet, which could only mean that Serande had not turned back on her offered protection.

Staring up at the slender vines coiling around the irregular wooden beams of his ceiling, he suddenly remembered the angelica roots Serande had given him for his mother. Perhaps he should pay a visit to his parents, make sure he warned them of what Xanthos was planning, in case the news hadn't travelled as far as the edge of the forest of Ilaros. The thought of the king's guards coming after his family was enough to chase him out of his bed.

He quickly washed up and put on a fresh set of clothes, one of the few he still had left. With all the recent events, doing laundry hadn't really been a top priority. For a moment he pondered if he should stow away the silver chain with the key to the Blackthorn vault, which he had been wearing since Antelisse had given it to him, but he didn't feel like parting with it. Even though what he'd found inside the vault had been horrifying, some grain of curiosity had remained. It might be a good idea to find out more about the king's dark past, if he was going to stand a chance against him.

After a quick and frugal breakfast, he packed the pouch for his mother, strapped on his bow, making sure his quiver was fully stocked, and exited the treehouse, carefully scanning the surroundings for anything suspicious. Everything appeared calm and peaceful, as if there wasn't a war brewing.

The skies were overcast, dulling the vibrant colours of autumn to various shades of muted ochre. Andor took a deep breath, allowing the fresh morning air to fill his lungs, and turned onto the pathway leading to his parents' house. A light breeze ruffled the trees, sending a flurry of leaves dancing around and leaving many branches exposed and naked, like long-fingered ghosts looming between him and the sky.

Only a few elves were out and about and none of them appeared to be fazed by what had occurred at the capital yesterday. From what he gathered, their animated chatter revolved mainly around the weekly market they were heading to and the wares they sought to either purchase or sell. This reminded him that this was exactly where his father would be headed right now. Olear never missed a chance of visiting the neighbouring villages on their respective market days, hoping to find clients for his arrows.

Andor usually accompanied his father to most of them, but that had not been possible today, since Andor had been too busy getting tangled up in more problems than he could handle. A slight feeling of guilt took hold of him, even though he knew that his father could very well manage on his own.

He quickened his pace, his feet gliding over leaves and moss, the trees flitting past him, and before he knew it, he stood facing his parents' house, the familiar sight suddenly making his chest constrict. What if his parents were forced to abandon their house? What if his father were caught up in the atrocities of the war Xanthos was planning? What if his mother and Tin were left without protection?

He forced his mind to stop right there. It wouldn't come to that, not if he had anything to do with it. If Serande was true to her word and wanted to prevent a war, none of this would come to pass. He needed to take one day at a time, not worry about a future that could change a hundred times along the way.

"Andor?" his mother's voice drew him from his gloomy musings. She approached him with a heavy satchel gathered in her arms, most likely full of wares from the market.

The long sleeves of her sage-coloured dress were rippling in the wind that had picked up its force, cutting through the half-empty branches. "I wasn't expecting you to come around today." A smile dawned on her face when she joined him at the door and opened it for him.

"I have some herbs Serande told me you wanted." He followed her into the house, the familiar scent of lavender, lemon, and verbena enveloping him.

"Oh, you mean the angelica roots?" She placed the satchel on the large table that stood in the centre of their main room and turned to face him. Some of her chestnut locks had escaped the bun on her head and she caught them with her fingers, tucking them back in.

"Yes." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small pouch, handing it to his mother. "She said to use them sparsely."

"Oh, I will." She took it, undoing the drawstring and peeking inside. "Thank you so much for taking the time to bring them over. I've been running low on angelica roots for a while and the local market doesn't sell the ones I need. I was there again today, with no success."

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the market today." His guilt suddenly made its way to the surface again.

"Don't you worry about it." Meril brushed over the skirts of her dress and then began to unpack the contents of the satchel. She pulled out a small jar of earthenware, followed by a pouch, which probably contained some herbs. "We all know these are busy days for you. Olear wasn't expecting you to go with him and Tin was more than eager to accompany him. Made him feel all grown up and important. It looks that business will be good today. With all those rumours of a war going around, people will want to be stocking up on their arrows."

"You've heard about that already?" A leaden heaviness coated the pit of his stomach.

"The merchants from Valantes rarely spoke about anything else this morning. I was glad to be able to leave early." She raised her eyes to his. "It's not something I'm looking forward should it really come to pass. We healers will be among the first ones to be called into the king's service. They're going to have need of as many of us as possible."

"Can't you just refuse to go?" Andor blurted out, the thought of his mother having to work for Xanthos so unpleasant, he wished to immediately erase it from his mind.

"One does not simply refuse Xanthos. You know that he does not take well to resistance." Meril drew her eyebrows together and turned her attention back to the satchel in front of her. A small piece of cloth that looked like a scarf made an appearance as well as a few wooden kitchen utensils. When Andor said nothing, she let out a sigh. "I will be fine. We healers are highly sought after and he won't want to lose any of us."

She absentmindedly smoothed out a wrinkle in the scarf with her fingertips. "It's you I'm worried about. Since you've been chosen for the task of the sacrifice, life seems to have taken a rather unexpected turn for you. I wouldn't want for you to lose track of your path." She took a step closer to him, placing both of her hands on his chest.

Andor swallowed. He wouldn't be able to hide his racing heartbeat from her. "I won't. You don't have to worry about me."

"Do I not?"

He had sought to dispel her concerns, knowing she could sense the lie in his words. She always did.

Meril raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I wouldn't be your mother if I wouldn't be worrying about you." Her hands were warm and firm against his chest and the knot inside him seemed to losen infinitesimally. Meril closed her eyes and he briefly relaxed against her calming touch. A frown dawned on his mother's forehead and she pulled her hands away abruptly, her eyes flying open. "Andor," she whispered, her gaze finding his. There was fear in those dark green depths. "What have you done?"

"What do you mean?" His mother couldn't possibly know about him having freed Rose. She might have a gift of sensing things that were hidden beneath the surface, but she wasn't a seer like Serande.

"Your heart. It seems like there's a rift running right through it."

"My heart is just fine," he lied. His mother was definitely exaggerating. His heart wasn't that close to breaking point. Not yet.

"It might be many things but fine is not one of them." His mother lay her forehead in wrinkles. "Is it because the human girl escaped?"

"No, that has nothing to do with anything," he said quickly. The speed with which the news had travelled from the palace was truly frightening.

"I wouldn't be surprised if it did, since you were the one who performed the sacrifice. It would be only natural to feel guilty, but I am sure that the true culprit will be found in no time. I have heard that Eldoran has been tasked with finding the person and we all know he's skilful and efficient, not like his brother who's only thoughts revolve around violence."

Well, that sounded like all his current problems summed up nicely. "I'm sure he will," he said tersely, wondering what else his mother might have picked up on today's market.

"I'm sure the king knows that you are not at fault." She ran a finger across his chest, searching for an invisible piece of lint to be removed. "You did everything as was expected of you." It almost sounded as if she was trying to convince herself of the truth in her words. "Right?" She looked at him expectantly.

"Yes, I did." The words tasted like ash in his mouth, but he would not endanger his mother by confiding the truth in her. The less she knew, the better. He needed her to be safe.

"Good." She nodded with a slight tilt of her head, but he wasn't sure she believed him.

"I should go." He searched in his head for a credible reason to leave. "I need to see if my tutoring lessons are going to take place or if all these new developments will put a temporary halt to them, which wouldn't be good for the children, as they will only fall behind if they do not get regular practice."

"Of course." His mother's smile did not reach her eyes. A heaviness settled between them. It was full of unspoken words and hidden truths. "You shouldn't abandon your duties just to spend time with your mother." She ran a hand over her neck. "Just promise me that you will be careful."

"I'm always careful," he said with a wink.

"I shall hope so." She smiled and this time it was genuine.

"I'll see myself out," he said, heading towards the door. "And tell father that I'll definitely make it to the next market day."

"I will," he heard her say from behind.

Andor left his parents' house with a heavy heart. He loathed having to lie to his mother, but he couldn't risk her safety by confessing to her the truth about Rose. He tightened the strap of his quiver and decided that he might as well do what he said and find out about his tutoring lessons.

Keeping up an appearance of normalcy sounded like the best he could come up with right now, besides, the lessons were his main source of income and if they were suspended, he would need to find another way to support himself. Not that it would matter much once Xanthos found out about his traitorous deed. If it came to him being arrested, his income would be the least of his worries.

Forcing away those unnerving thoughts, he made his way to the training grounds, carefully avoiding the main pathways, just to be sure. He didn't need to push his luck.

The moment he had reached the entrance to the training grounds, he wasn't so sure that coming here had been a wise choice. It looked as if war had come to Elysse already. There were even more recruits and members of the Royal Guard present than yesterday, bows were being strung and swords sharpened. He caught sight of Nolar and Bragol ushering a group of recruits towards the long row of archery targets, while Findir pointed another dozen of them towards a large stall with piles of leather armour. Xanthos surely wasn't wasting any time.

"Lost your way?" A familiar sneering voice cut through his silent observations.

Andor reluctantly turned his head and there was Gilren stalking towards him, the insufferable swagger in his stride more pronounced than ever. He wore the dark blue tunic of the Royal Guard and aside from his bow and quiver tied across his chest there was a gleaming sword strapped to his belt, his hand ostentatiously resting on its fashionable hilt. He looked ready to walk onto a battle field.

"Not more than you." Andor straightened his shoulders, shooting him a levelled gaze.

"I'm just where I want to be. Got an early promotion to join the Royal Guard. I'm running drills with the new recruits." His thin lips spread into a smug grin, the scar on his cheek curving like a snake.

"If you expect me to congratulate you, you're in for a long wait." Andor made no effort to keep the ice from his voice.

"I don't need your well wishes." Gilren's fingers tapped against the hilt of his sword. "But you'd better watch your mouth if you don't want to give me a reason to arrest you. Not that I would need to search very far, since you obviously failed your given task." He raised his chin, an icy glint in his eyes.

Andor gripped the edge of his bow as a ray of panic surged through his veins. Was it possible that Gilren knew about him freeing Rose or was he just bluffing? Whatever it was, his path would need to be denial.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Andor said with as much calm as he could muster.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. The human girl, she escaped, remember, which means you must have messed up the enchantment."

A shudder of relief went through Andor. Gilren didn't know about him freeing Rose, at least not yet. "You know very well that's not what happened. Everything went exactly according to plan and I performed the sacrifice just like it was expected of me. The Council, Serande, and the king himself have been entirely satisfied with my performance. It's not my fault that someone else decided to mess with it, endangering the future of our entire realm. Only a reckless and entirely stupid person would tamper with something as sacred as our most ancient laws." Andor cringed internally at his own words, but he needed to make this convincing.

"Reckless and stupid indeed." Gilren eyed him with unveiled contempt. "Be that as it may, my father won't be as negligent as you. He'll bring the human back and she won't be able to slip through his fingers like she did through yours."

Andor had to fight the urge to jump at his throat and strangle Gilren while shouting in his face that he would rather cut off his father's fingers one by one than allow him to get them anywhere near Rose.

Instead he said, "So what are you still doing here? Shouldn't you be alongside your father like the obedient son you are? Or did he not have enough trust in your abilities to take you along?"

Gilren opened his mouth, but Andor, unable to stop himself, cut across him before he could respond. "Must be very frustrating, being deprived once again of the chance to become the hero of Elysse, always second, always in the shadow of someone else." The moment the words were out, he knew he should have kept his mouth shut, but it was too late for that now. His anger was a living fire-breathing dragon inside him.

Of course it was utterly stupid of him to fan the flames of hatred between them. They had burned brightly ever since Andor had laid eyes on Gilren's sister Itariel and turned into an all-consuming purgatory after her tragic death.

The knuckles of Gilren's hand around the hilt of his sword turned white as he drew in a menacing breath. It was probably only due to the fact that they were at a public place with hundreds of witnesses that he hadn't punched Andor yet.

"You are so full of it," Gilren hissed through clenched teeth, "and one day your arrogance will be your downfall." He pushed his shoulders back, the midnight blue tunic stretching across his muscled chest. "You won't escape the punishment you deserve for what you've done, no matter how highly you think of yourself."

Andor wanted to say that he didn't think highly of himself, quite the contrary. He was rather sure that whatever evil fate awaited him, would finally level the guilt he carried around with him, for Itariel's death as well as for what he had done to Rose.

"Only in your dreams," Andor ground out, his eyes narrowing.

"Gilren!" A call from the training grounds made Gilren turn his attention away from Andor. "We're waiting for you," said Bragol who had a bunch of recruits lined up behind him.

"You're lucky I'm busy now running the drills, but this isn't finished." The threat in Gilren's words was as clear as a mountain lake. "I'm on my way," he called to Bragol and then he turned away from Andor without another word.

One thing was very clear. His tutoring lessons would be the last thing taking place on the training grounds. And with Gilren's new promotion, he needed to watch his every step even more carefully now. He looked up into the sky as if he expected Nebula to come flying towards him, but of course, she was nowhere to be seen. As much as he was usually annoyed by the insufferable bird, he now truly missed her.

A feeling of loneliness and despair took hold of him. He feared that he didn't have the strength to overcome the insurmountable obstacles life kept piling up in front of him. And what he feared most was that those dear to him would pay the price for his failure.