"We've told you a hundred times that the ogres won't come near you," Eliseo said patiently. "You probably won't even catch a glimpse of any of them."

"They're ogres, Nemir! Do you honestly expect them to organize an attack?!"

Nemir turned to his sister who began to giggle at once at his scowl.

"This is your fault!" he shouted.

She erupted into a fit of snorting laughter, rolling around on his bed.

"You know very well that I can barely hold a bow, let alone shoot one!"

Her ridiculous snorting and gasping didn't even make him smile. Instead, he marched over to the bed and caught his sister's arm as she beat one of his pillows into oblivion through her laughter.

"Get out," he said, pulling her.

"What?" she asked, looking up at him through her tears.

"Out!"

He tugged her to the door and shoved her through it, slamming it shut in her face. Nemir didn't regret it when he heard her hysterical laughter continue from the hallway.

He walked over to the vanity and sat down in a slump, looking at himself in the mirror. Nemir preferred gardening to hunting and singing to sword point.

Desada was the true 'son' in the family, that much was clear to everyone in Suvahl, but here in Tasnia, they seemed to be stuck on the idea of women in skirts and men on horses.

Horseback riding made his thighs hurt.

He sighed heavily as Eliseo came up behind him, binding his nearly shoulder length hair back with a thin leather strap.

"Don't worry," he said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You've hunted before. You're not completely useless."

He smiled at Nemir in his calming way, the edges of his moustache pointing up on either side.

Nemir sighed. Yes and on those occasions, he had been forced to accept his fate. One more time wouldn't hurt.

***

The summer sun shone down on their leave of the palace grounds. Nemir was surprised by the lack of ceremony. In Suvahl, no hunting party left from the palace without some sort of farewell.

He could only assume that Prince Allard rode off into the wild often enough that no one cared anymore.

The prince nodded at him and kicked his lovely mare ahead, assuming that Nemir would ride along after him.

It had been sometime since he had been on the back of a horse, but of course he knew how to ride fairly well.

The silver speckled stallion jerked a little, under his unpracticed legs but as he eased into riding again, he trotted up next to Allard on the path.

"So what will we be hunting for?" he asked.

Allard glanced over at him.

"I like to hunt Elk," he said easily. "They're big, and it's much more impressive when you drag one home."

"Ah, of course," Nemir said.

What was an elk?

The silence dragged on as they rode down the path, watching the forest grow larger and larger in the distance, until finally, they entered it. His legs were beginning to seize up and clench already.

"How much farther will we go?" he asked.

Allard raised a brow.

"Until we find an animal we'd like to shoot."

He glanced down at Nemir's awkward shifting.

"Are you done already?" he asked.

Nemir tried not to blush. He forced himself to sit still.

"I have been on a ship for the past week," he said defensively. "My legs are not use to this anymore."

Not to mention that his back was already killing him.

Allard frowned.

"We'll head back before the evening then," he said.

Grateful, Nemir sat up straight and focused on keeping up with the prince.

It had been so long since Nemir had been in a proper forest that the unfamiliar sights and sounds, under other circumstances, would have been peaceful and fascinating. After another hour on horseback however, his internal debate of whether or not to give up and simply ride back to the palace, kept him from noticing anything beyond his screaming muscles.

Was he really this out of shape?

His right thigh began to jerk spasmodically and finally, he jerked his horse to a stop.

"Prince Allard," he said, smacking at his leg until the muscle lay still. "I need a rest."

The blond prince raised a brow, but climbed off of his horse without a word.

He watched Nemir as he struggled to climb down with his stiff muscles and finally, with an amused smile, he came to help him.

"I take it that you're not quite the hunter that your sister described you to be."

Nemir sighed.

"Not at all," he admitted with a grimace. "She enjoys watching me humiliate myself."

"How charming," Allard said.

He watched Nemir as he stretched out, his back and shoulders cracking loudly.

"We're in the vicinity where I often find the deer and elk," Allard said. "If you'd like, we can continue on foot for a while."

Nemir looked at the prince. He didn't seem to mind, but Nemir knew he was truly ruining the sport for him.

"There's no need," he said. "You can go on ahead on your horse. I don't mind waiting."

The prince stared at him for a moment and then slapped Nemir so hard across the face that he stumbled and nearly fell.

Shocked, Nemir looked up at Allard, holding his stinging cheek.

"What's the matter?" Allard asked innocently. "I just wanted to show you how much I appreciate your offer."

Nemir stared at him, stunned, until the corners of prince Allard's lips tilted and he broke into a grin.

Despite himself, Nemir laughed.

"Now we're even."

Allard laughed and smacked him companionably on the back.

"Now forget about all that waiting business, will you?" He dropped an arm around Nemir's shoulders. "We are here to hunt, and that's what we shall do."

He tossed him an apple from one of their packs and led him along. Walking was such a relief that Nemir was tempted to kiss Allard—or more like, not be offended if Allard tried to kiss him again.

"Try to keep quiet," Allard whispered. "We don't have much time if we want to be home before dark."

They were leaving the trail now, and everything was quieter and louder at the same time. The air felt so still and thick that every noise was magnified tenfold by the silence.

Nemir realized how loudly his leather boots were crunching into the soft forest floor and tried to lighten his step. He looked at Allard's feet, trying to mimic the way that he walked, rolling from the heel to the ball of his foot.

It helped a little, but he was still fairly sure that the horses were quieter than he was.

For some time, they crept in silence, until Nemir's thighs began to ache again.

Really, how long had he been this out of shape for?

He thought back to the gardens and the sanctuary back home wistfully, remembering how much time he'd opted to spend there before he was sent to this forsaken land.

Okay, maybe 'forsaken land' was a bit harsh, but it was different and that was bad enough.

He sighed heavily.

Allard shot him a look and he sighed again—more quietly of course.

Suddenly, Allard stilled, his eyes glued ahead of him.

Nemir crept forward, trying to see what Allard was staring so intently at.

He caught a glimpse of soft brown fur and for a moment he thought that it was a horse, but no, it was too big. And then he saw the antlers—large and reaching.

He gasped.

"What's that?" he squeaked.

The creature started, looked straight at them, and then leaped off at break-neck speed.

Nemir stared after it, his mouth hanging open.

"That was amazing!" he exclaimed.

He looked at Allard, the grin slipping off of his face.

"That was an elk," Allard said simply.

"Ah."

Nemir cleared his throat awkwardly.

"We could—follow it," he suggested.

Allard sighed loudly and pushed himself up from his crouched position.

"Is there a point?" he asked.

He dusted off his pants.

"Let's just head back."

Nemir tried not to look too excited by the suggestion. He dropped into step next to Allard, offering him a hesitant smile.

Truth be told, he had never been on a successful hunt before, nor did he really care to be on one. He much preferred controlled environments to the wild, and relaxation to adrenaline rushes.

They reached their horses much faster than Nemir expected to and probably only because they were putting so much less care into keeping quiet.

Nemir practically ran to the stallion in relief. At the last moment, his foot caught on a stray branch, sending him sprawling across the path.

He spat out dirt while Allard stood back, laughing loudly. He didn't bother trying to hide it, but he at least had the decency to help Nemir back up to his feet.

"So tell me something," Allard started as they began their trek back up the path, this time on their mounts. "How often do you go hunting back home?"

Nemir laughed.

"I don't," he said.

"Why am I not surprised?" Allard muttered.

Nemir couldn't help but laugh. This was nothing compared to his previous hunting escapades.

"The last time I went was more than three years ago. My father wanted me to go," he said. "After that, the royal hunting party made a personal request to my father that I not be forced to join them again."

The other prince howled with laughter.

"The whole hunting party?" he asked.

Nemir nodded, still smiling.

It was more of a joke than anything. In fact, Nemir had been the one to suggest the idea.

His father hadn't listened to him for years, especially when it came to sports, but he couldn't ignore so many of his own friends when they begged him so fervently.

"It was for the common good," Nemir said solemnly.

They were both still smiling when they emerged from the thinning trees around them.

Nemir blinked away from the evening sun which blazed down on them in a deep orange. He turned his face from it, finding that Allard had stopped. He was staring ahead, a guarded expression on his face.

Nemir followed his gaze, finding the sun striking several figures in the distance.

At a first glance they appeared to be normal, they seemed human, but even from this distance, their size could not be ignored.

A soft chill ran down his spine.

The men and women alike, wore only what looked like tattered rags of what once might have been clothing, draped over their exposed bodies, hiding only the most important parts. Strange piercings adorned their muscular, tanned bodies. They all had long hair of varying, vibrant colors, tied up in intricate knots that hung all the way to their hips nonetheless.

The group of them as one, seemed to sense the presence of the two princes. Together, they all turned and faced the boys.

None of them moved; their bright eyes fixed on the two in silence.

"Let's go," Allard whispered.

He nudged his horse into motion, Nemir close at his side.

In complete silence, they rode past the group. Nemir couldn't help but glance at them as they did. They were all still watching. The silence was more unnerving than even their intent, narrow eyes and the bones pierced through their flesh, glinting white in the sun.

As the group finally fell into the distance and out of sight, Nemir inhaled a deep breath, realizing he had been holding it the entire time.

"They don't usually come this close to the palace, or the cities," Allard said.

"Is that so?" Nemir asked. Then why were they here? His stomach was still twisting anxiously. Until they were on the palace grounds again, he doubted that it would stop.

They didn't look quite as hideous as Nemir had expected them to look, but they were even more intimidating, if that was possible.

"Can we hurry?" he asked.

Allard glanced at him and began to nod but as he did, his eyes drifted over Nemir's shoulder, his jaw slackening. He whipped out his sword and before Nemir knew what was happening, they were surrounded.

His heart ricocheted into his ribs as his eyes locked with the large ogre before him. He looked almost straight into the large green eyes, despite the fact that he was on horseback and the other was on foot. The monster grinned down at him, displaying a set of pearly white teeth and Nemir was positive that he would die from fright.

Suddenly, he was struck across the back of his head. As his face drew near to the grassy earth, everything went black.