"Are you okay?" Yael asked gently when he saw Luren. "Congratulations," he added warmly, having just heard the news that Luren was pregnant, just like him.
"Thank you," Luren replied shyly, a soft blush dusting his cheeks. "How's the preparation going?"
"Everything's going smoothly," Yael beamed. "And the flowers in the glass greenhouse have started blooming. You can finally host a tea party there."
"That's wonderful," Luren said, smiling. "I'd love to host a small tea party for us, to
celebrate and welcome our little ones." His voice softened as he fondly patted his still-flat stomach.
Yael returned the smile and instinctively placed a hand on his own rounded belly,
now six months along.
"Hello, future mothers!" Clara suddenly popped in, grinning wide. "I still can't
believe it, Luren's pregnant! Two men, both expecting, standing right in front of me." She laughed in disbelief.
Luren chuckled. "You're right. I never imagined this would happen. I always thought I'd be the one making a woman pregnant, not the one carrying a child myself."
The three of them laughed together, the cold afternoon breeze rustling the flowers around
them
"Well, for me… my mother already told me about being an omega," Yael said softly.
"Our life in Elarion was really happy when I was a child."
Yael lifted his eyes to the sky, as if reaching for a memory long buried in the clouds.
"Wait…you're from Elarion?" Luren asked, shocked.
Yael turned to him, his expression tightening with sorrow.
"Yes. After the kingdom fell, the people of Elarion were taken as slaves by Velgarith. Those who could work were forced into the salt mines. My parents…they were both sent there. It was hell on earth," he said, voice cracking with the weight of memory.
There was a silence, thick and heavy.
"Are there still Elarion people there?" Luren asked, his brows furrowed.
Yael nodded slowly.
"Yes. I heard even the children are being sent there now… no one is spared."
Clara, who had been quiet, finally spoke.
"Then…what happened to the kingdom?" she asked gently, her voice filled with concern.
"The kingdom became barren… a wasteland," the man said softly, eyes distant with the memory. "But the third prince,
Prince Haelis he begged the King to let him take over. I believe… he's trying to bring life
back to it. To make it livable again."
"Third prince?" Luren murmured, brows knitting.
"He's different from his brothers," Yael continued. "He is an illegitimate son of the
King, born of a woman from Elarion… or so I heard. Maybe that's why he cares so deeply for the kingdom. Maybe… it's in his blood."
Clara and Luren exchanged a glance, something unspoken passing between them…understanding, surprise… perhaps even hope.
Suddenly, the sharp beat of hurried footsteps broke the moment.
"Where is His Grace?!" a soldier called out breathlessly as he ran in from the gate, his
face pale and urgent.
Roan came near him, eyes narrowed in concern. "What's happening?" he asked, staying close, always alert, always guarding Luren's side.
Luren turned sharply, panic creeping into his voice. "What happened, Roan?" He and
the others came running, their breaths ragged with worry.
The soldier's voice was tense. "Prince Claren and Prince Karin were attacked. The
carriage they were riding in was found abandoned at the edge of a cliff… and the palace soldiers—" his voice faltered, jaw tightening, "—they were all stabbed to death."
A cold silence fell over the group before Luren finally spoke. "Where did you find the
carriage?"
Roan clenched his fists. "It was supposed to be past the border by now. Ione should
have already arrived…"
"They already passed the border. The carriage was found near the Gravehollow Woods," the soldier reported, his voice tense.
Roan's eyes narrowed. "How did the carriage end up there? That place has no roads, no one goes near it." A chill crept down his spine as he sensed something was terribly wrong.
"We need to go there," Luren said firmly, already stepping forward.
The other three froze, stunned by his sudden decision.
Clara reached out instinctively. "No! Luren, please. Let's send others to look for them instead," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "You can't go. It's too dangerous…"
"No! Roan, get the war sled ready, we need to find Prince Claren and Prince Karin!" Luren commanded, urgency sharp in his voice.
Roan let out a sharp whistle, calling for Mara.
"You're not seriously planning to go, are you?" Clara asked, though deep down, she already knew Luren's answer.
"I will lead the search," he declared firmly, eyes blazing with determination.
"NO!!" the three shouted in unison, panic rising in their chests.
"You can't go in there..it's a dangerous place," Roan said, trying to keep his voice calm.
The Duke will be furious if he return without Luren here, I can't lead the search when
protecting him is my only duty. Roan thought
"We need to save Claren, he's going to be the Crown Prince! We can't let him die in the
North," he said, his voice tight with urgency.
Even if they were brothers, Luren knew all too well, if something happened to Claren,
everything would spiral into chaos. The King would be devastated. Craige…Craige would never forgive himself. Neither would he.
"At your service, Your Grace," Mara said, bowing low with solemn resolve.
"Prepare the fastest war sled," Luren ordered, eyes burning with determination. "We need one that can cut through the Gravehollow Woods, no matter the danger."
"Get the wolvesleigh ready," Roan said. It was the strongest and fastest among their war sleds, pulled by beastly northern wolves bred for harsh terrain. As Luren moved
toward the house, Roan leaned closer and whispered to Mara, "Send a message to
His Grace."
Mara nodded and quickly left.
"Yael, Axel, and Butler Serio stood silently, watching with heavy hearts as Luren and
the others left the manor, a mix of worry and concern clouding their eyes."
---
"Thank you, Your Grace," the people said as they bowed. They were helping to hand out food for the coming winter.
Some counties were now suffering from famine. Their food storage was empty because of greedy counts who had wasted the funds meant for supplies.
Every county should have had enough food saved for the harsh winter, but those selfish lords spent the money on themselves, and now their people were paying the price.
Craige stepped forward and spoke clearly, his tone serious.
"I will choose new counts after the winter. For now, I ask everyone to help one another so we can all get through this season."
The people bowed again, this time with stronger voices and hope in their eyes.
"Yes, Your Grace!"
They heard a faint sound—Habek cooed.
They looked up and saw the white dove fairy descending gracefully from the sky, landing
gently on Rolen's shoulder.
"Keith, let's finish up here," Craige said, his voice firm but distracted. As he passed by Keith, a strange heaviness tugged at his chest, an uneasy feeling. Something was wrong. Then he saw Rolen holding out a letter.
Rolen silently handed it to him.
Your
Grace, something has happened to Prince Claren. They were last seen near
Gravehollow Woods. Luren is leading a search party and we're heading there now.
Craige's eyes narrowed as he read. His jaw clenched. Without a word, he crumpled the
letter in his fist and hurled it to the ground.
"Light the purple flare!" he barked, urgency rising in his voice.
"Yes, Your Grace!" Rolen answered, quickly obeying, sensing the tension in the air.
Somewhere deep in the forest, near a cabin
surrounded by tall pines, a sudden burst of light painted the sky, a brilliant purple flare that bloomed like a lavender flower against the twilight.
They were sitting outside around a crackling campfire, the flames casting warm glows on
their faces.
"You're back in action, big guy," Venn said with a grin, his eyes reflecting the soft purple hue above.
Borg smiled, his rough features softening for a moment. "My favorite color," he said quietly, then stood, his heavy boots crunching against the forest floor.
Velzra, who had been staying in Venn's cabin, didn't fully understand what the flare meant, but the sudden movement of the men, their tense faces and quick pace, told him something urgent had happened.
Borg cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, a familiar fire returning to his
eyes. "Time to wake up my baby," he muttered with a smirk.
Without another word, he mounted a sturdy horse tethered nearby and rode swiftly into
the deeper part of the forest, the purple light fading behind him like a fading omen.
"What is happening?" Velzra asked, her voice laced with confusion.
"Come here, babe—the grizzly will come," Venn said, grabbing Velzra's arm and pulling her close to his side. A moment later, the ground began to tremble with heavy thuds.
Velzra's eyes widened in shock. "What was that?"
Five massive, bear-like beasts thundered past them, their heavy paws shaking the
earth. Riding atop the lead beast was Borg, sitting confidently on its broad shoulder. Behind them, several soldiers followed, men clad in Viking-like helmets, riding giant bull-like creatures covered in thick fur. Despite their size, the beasts moved with surprising speed.
"To the Gravehollow Woods!" Borg commanded, his voice carrying over the rumble as he led the charge.
Velzra could barely take her eyes off the scene. Her heart pounded. They had animals in their tribe, yes, but nothing like these. The size, the strength, the sheer wild power of those creatures, it was the first time she had seen such beasts, and it left her breathless with awe and a flicker of fear.
"Check the surroundings," Venn commanded, his voice sharp with urgency.
Velzra glanced at him, confused. She looked around, trying to see who he was talking
to, but there was no one else near them. Suddenly, the faint sound of a branch
snapping echoed through the trees, followed by the rustle of leaves.
Her eyes widened. "Did you hear that?"
Venn narrowed his gaze, watching a shadow slip between the trees.
"That guy…he's a beastmaster," he muttered, awe and a hint of unease in his voice, as Borg vanished into the forest like a phantom.