The Fallen Prince

32

Rowan's POV:

When I hear people around us, I grab my sword, trying to focus because I am exhausted but we need to protect ourselves. I will not let anyone die, and I refuse to be taken back to Vayl.

Ciaran is beside me, holding his weapons and pulling the arrow back into his bow, blinking to wake himself up.

The sounds of hooves tell us that they are riding horses, and I know that we can use that against them. If we can kill the people and take the horses, we can get home much quicker.

I do like the sound of that, to be quite honest.

"Put the weapons down!" a familiar voice shouts, and both Ciaran and I instantly listen.

Uriel slides off his horse, and he is adorned in all of his armor. He rushes forward, ignoring the shouts from the rest of our group and embraces me in a tight hug, before attempting to do the same to Ciaran.

"Step back!" Kassandra orders, surging forward and shoving Uriel to the ground. "Do you know him?"

I push past Kassandra and reach down to help Uriel up. "Yes, he is one of the guards in Arlian. A damn good one at that."

Ciaran lights up when Patrick and Jameson reveal themselves, and he rushes forward to hug all of our friends. "How did you guys find us?"

"We saw fire and then thought it strange that people would be sleeping outside during the winter, so we came over here and found you. Our original mission was to go to Vayl and to find out information and kill as many of those bastards as possible, but now that we have you two, I think it is safe to say that we can go home and formulate real plans," Jameson says, leaning back against a tree. "Your father is a bit of a mess, Rowan."

I am not surprised, but it still saddens me to hear. My father has lost so much; his husband, who was his true source of happiness, and now myself. Not only that, but his sister is a traitor and Ciaran, a boy he has grown to care for, was taken away along with me to be tortured.

"We should get moving then," I say, looking up at the horses. "Ciaran needs to ride a horse, he has an injury."

Ciaran huffs. "I can walk," he argues, but Uriel has already pulled his horse toward us and gestured for us to get on.

"Get home, your majesty," Uriel tells us. "Patrick and Jameson can ride with you and I can walk back with this group, if that is alright with everyone else."

Everyone agrees, except for Ciaran, but he does not argue with me when I get on the horse behind him. The most important thing is for us to get home before more warriors are sent to Vayl and are met with violence for no reason.

Ciaran leans back against me as I urge the horse forward, the bitter air cutting through our clothes. We still have a few days of travel, because we cannot force the horses to run for a full day and I know that both Ciaran and I will be sore if we ride for that long.

We move all night, the moon high in the sky and our weapons on our backs as we do so. No one speaks, the only movement from Ciaran is the occasional grabbing my cold hands to warm them with his own.

When dawn breaks, we stop at a creek and let the horses drink after we break the frozen surface of it.

Since we all grow food in Arlian, Ciaran and I scrounge around, digging underground to find some kind of root plant that we can eat while Patrick and Jameson start a fire.

I show Ciaran what kinds are good to eat, and he seems to be enjoying himself. "This is a good root, since it is white in color and not green. The green ones are bitter," I explain, laying the fat, bulb plants on the ground as we dig for more. "Keep an eye on those or the horses will eat them."