The full eight years were nearly upon the students. They truly reached their peak, there was no more to teach. At the age of twenty, Daarion was an attractive young man, his flowing raven hair dangled just above his shoulders. Erwan was the same age as Daarion, his light hair was cut just below his ears, most girls swooned over the sight of him. Yara, a year younger than the two friends didn't change much, she mostly kept her chestnut hair from her face. Lyra became beautiful, nearly as striking as the princess, she was two years younger than the two young men, her positivity and cheerfulness sprouted joy throughout the hostel, even injecting a calmness in Haxios. As for the stubborn young man, Haxios, he was tall, but not much taller than Daarion, his hair resembled his short red-brown beard, unlike Daarion or Erwan, Haxios adored having a beard, akin to the people of his house.
The five friends enjoyed each other's company under the cloudy sky, in the lush garden of the campus.
'This apple is too sour,' Lyra puckered from munching a large bite.
'Come now,' Daarion said, rubbing an apple on his shirt. 'I've spent all morning picking them.'
'You should've waited a bit longer for them to become a bit riper,' Erwan's eyes watered from the taste. 'They're horrendous.'
'It can't be that sour,' Daarion took a bite. His eyes narrowed, he sucked in his cheeks but kept his composure, attempting to hide the young apple's taste. 'See, it tastes like a normal apple.'
The friends giggled with joy.
'Oh, how I'll miss this,' Lyra said as her eyes scrolled over the clouds.
'As will I,' Yara said. 'Eight years we've been together, to think in mere days we'll partake in our final trial. I'm not certain what I'll do then, we've been here for nearly half our lives. This place has been our home, to find another fills me with sorrow.'
Haxios growled as he scratched his beard.
'Then, let us enjoy it while it lasts,' Daarion said with delight, taking another bite.
The rest took a bite from their apples as well, their cheeks stiffened as they chewed.
The light steps of the princess neared. She was graceful, her shining dark hair floated with ease, her light skin sparkled in the sun, her light cornflower dress boasted her elegant figure.
Daarion pushed himself up, enthralled by the sight of Tessriel.
'Good day,' she bowed slightly.
'Come sit with us,' Daarion said.
Tessriel turned to the two paladins guarding her. 'You may rest as well. I'm among friends.'
The two paladins took off their helms and sat on the steps not far off. Tessriel sat beside Daarion, tangling her arm around his.
'Taste here, Princess,' Lyra tossed an apple over to Tessriel, smirking at Daarion. 'Picked this morning, or so I've heard.'
She took a bite, a bite not too small nor too big. Her lips puckered. 'Oh, no,' the princess swallowed. 'This isn't nearly ripe enough.'
'Yes, yes,' Daarion brushed his hand over his hair. 'I know.'
'You picked these apples?' the princess asked.
'I did. And I thought it would be fitting for such a lovely day.'
'A wonderful gesture,' Tessriel squeezed her arm around Daarion's as she took another bite, her reaction to the apple's taste stayed the same. 'But they are pretty horrible.'
They lay on the grass. Their chatters were ongoing for hours, they bickered, and they laughed. The princess rested her head on Daarion's chest as she dozed off in his arms for a short time.
The friends, along with the princess spent the following two days reminiscing about their journey. Yara and Lyra dragged Tessriel into their gossip, the two girls were very fond of small tales about Tessriel and Daarion, tales that made Daarion very curious but were chased away by the three girls.
On the third day, the students were woken up at dawn. Their last trial awaited. Paladins led the students to the throne room. Many tables were laid out symmetrically. The throne room was the only location large enough for the last trial to take place, it was also a fitting area for the trial.
Melga sat on a comfortable chair at the end of the steps, right in front of the king and queen's thrones. 'Find yourself a table,' Melga waved his hand.
The students did as they were told. As expected, the five friends found tables near one another.
'Welcome, students,' Melga stood. 'Welcome, to the trial of fears.'
The students stood in place, not a single word was uttered. Detla, along with Melga, truly did achieve great discipline.
'Here, your greatest challenge thus far is upon you,' Melga tapped his obsidian staff with his long fingernails. 'An elixir shall be given to you, all shall drink it at the exact moment I tell you to, consuming it will put you into a deep sleep, thus is the reason for the tables. The elixir will force the user to dream of their greatest fear, and only by defeating that fear, will you wake. The last one hundred students to wake will have the great honour of becoming a Valkan. Those who wake before will have the honour of immediately becoming a high-ranking paladin, with the option of accepting a small land.'
Daarion breathed deeply. He relaxed his body as he was taught.
'Let us begin,' Melga announced.
Senna, along with the other keepers of the hostel walked in with small wooden racks, with vials containing dark liquid placed upon them.
Senna approached Daarion, he took a vial. She pressed his hand and gave a light smile. She remembered the young boy who played tricks on her in the previous years, tricks which she despised, but now, tricks which she would long for.
'It seems all have an elixir,' Melga said. 'When consuming it, lie immediately on the table.'
The hall was silent. The dark liquid was coiling in their vials, provoking the students.
'You may drink,' the wizard's voice echoed throughout the hall.
Daarion drank the dark elixir, it was thick, it was bitter, it stung his tongue as it went down. He felt his knees weaken, his eyesight became blurry, he felt tired. He crawled onto the table, closing his eyes, a heavy sleep fell on him.
Daarion's eyes opened, they burned from the light coming through the tall windows. He rubbed his dazing eyes, attempting to find a grasp on the table as well, for he still felt somewhat weak in his legs, and his hands felt numb for a moment.
'Daarion?' Elandiël's smooth voice filled the hall. 'You're awake.'
Elandiël stood beside Daarion, he seemed worried. Daarion's eyes examined the empty hall, the tables had no students on them. It only had the student and elf as occupants.
'You've slept for nearly ten hours,' the elf's voice became softer. 'What did you dream?'
Elandiël rushed Daarion to Melga, who was busy writing on scrolls in the academic structure. On the way, many students stared Daarion down, as if jealous, some with concern. Daarion's friends stood nearby as the elf escorted him, at least Daarion knew his friends passed the trial.
'He's finally awake,' Detla growled, sitting on a student table.
'Ah yes,' Melga halted his writing, 'the last to wake.'
Daarion stood at the edge of the wizard's table.
'The lad is awake, I see,' Ûlma, as loud as ever, entered.
'Tell them what you told me, Daarion,' Elandiël took a seat.
The young man took a breath, his teachers calm but eager. 'I dreamt of a war. More like a battle, a battle of elves, dwarves, men-even dragons. The divine dragons fought alongside us, against the chaos dragon, Zûl.'
'The great war?' Melga narrowed his eyes. 'You fear another war?'
'No,' Daarion continued hesitantly. 'My fears are the serpents of the narrow sea.'
The teachers leaned in, confused as to what they were hearing.
'Go on, Daarion,' Elandiël brushed his hair.
'There were creatures,' the young man's body became cold. 'Creatures I've never heard or read of before, they were of shadow and flesh, they fought alongside Zûl. I stood atop a mountain, with the heroes of old. For a moment, I thought we won but, an immensely large white dragon came, it seemed decayed, it breathed white fog, and all in its path fell. That is when I woke.'
Silence. The teachers felt a cold shiver.
'The end times,' the wizard broke the silence. 'You dreamt of the end times. Or some call it the beginning.'
Melga stood, he thumped his staff on the floor. A book came floating from above, it fell before the wizard. The book had a black cover with strange inscriptions, unknown to Daarion. The wizard opened the book.
'The Valkan of death,' Melga read. 'The dragon of death. When war, suffering, and death rule among us, when there is no hope, nothing but fear, the Valkan of death shall emerge from the glowing moon. It shall cleanse the world of darkness until its task is done. From the carcass of death, new life shall begin.'
'I thought this was a mere myth,' Detla straightened himself. 'Stories to scare children.'
'Melga,' Elandiël stood. 'This was a dream, it might be that this is just a mere dream, or a vision. If I recall, wizards have the ability to implant visions in one's mind as they sleep.'
'Are you implying that I did this?' Melga's voice rose.
'It's a plausible explanation,' Elandiël said. 'If it wasn't by your hand, maybe another?'
'I doubt it,' Melga waved his hand. 'A wizard's power in dreams can only extend to a mere glimpse, it also has to be truth, no mere vision can be conjured with a lie.'
Ûlma scratched his beard in confusion.
'That book,' Daarion said, 'when was that written, Melga?'
'This book was rewritten a few hundred years ago,' Melga rubbed the book, 'but the scriptures it was written from were centuries old, I have no knowledge of when to be exact.'
'Those who wrote the scriptures must've had a reason,' Daarion continued. 'It is likely that they saw what I saw firsthand.'
'Unlikely,' Detla said. 'In your dream and in the book, it said it kills all.'
'Not exactly,' Ûlma stepped forward. 'If I remembered correctly, the text said it shall cleanse the world of darkness. Perhaps some may have survived who wasn't consumed by darkness.'
'Hmm,' Melga stroked his beard. 'Perhaps. But the matter still stands on why did Daarion dream of it?'
'If it is to be a vision, there's only one who can conjure it on such a grand scale,' Elandiël said, concerned.
'Zûl,' Melga's head bowed down.
'Zûl?' Daarion asked frantically. 'But Zul was defeated, he was banished and chained by the divine dragons. He's not supposed to be able to do this. And why would he come to me?'
'Calm yerself, lad,' Ûlma said.
'We are not quite certain if it truly is him,' said Melga. 'If he broke free, we would've been warned by the dragons. But for now, Daarion, we do not have answers. Tomorrow you shall become a Valkan. I shall converse with the dragon tomorrow as well, it might have some answers.'
'I understand,' Daarion said. 'But what if my friends or anyone ask what I dreamt? What do I say to them?'
'Tell them you dreamt of the great war,' Elandiël spoke. 'For now, do not utter a word of the dragon of death, or anything of what we spoke here.'
Daarion nodded.
'You may go,' Melga said, 'many student eyes are already upon us.'
Daarion gave a bow, he headed to his friends.
'We need to inform the king's council,' Detla scratched a scar on his cheek.
The teachers gathered in a meeting room in a tower of the castle, most meetings of the king's council were held there. It was large, a sizeable circular table was perfectly fitted in the center of the room. Against the walls of the room were multiple tables with scrolls, wine pots, and delicious treats on platters. The room was well-lit thanks to the chandelier above the circular table along with the many mosaic windows.
The king and queen sat beside one another. The king had a goblet of wine that he drank from. Nestor, the king's right-hand man sat among them, he was tall with dark eyes and gracious walnut hair that reached just below his ears. Eadgar, a sturdy man with a bald head sat among them, he was the man who managed the coin from the city and nearby towns. Azil was also among them.
'So, you're telling me,' Ezlin said with his powerful voice. 'This boy had a dream of the end times. The great legend? Well, this is quite fascinating. And you have no answers at this moment?'
'Not yet,' Melga tapped his staff with his nails, 'tomorrow a dragon comes to shed its five tears for the Valkan transformation. I shall ask it for answers.'
'And this boy?' the king took a sip from his goblet. 'What will happen to him after the transformation? Will he be sent somewhere? To the dragons or elves?'
'I won't recommend it,' Melga said. 'If this was a message from Zûl or a different powerful source, we ought to keep a close eye on him.'
'Hmm,' Ezlin took another sip. 'What do the teachers suggest?'
'We suggest he takes the mantle of a dragon under one of the royal family,' Melga said. 'Maybe the queen's Valkan.'
Azil twitched.
'That's the king's choice,' Nestor growled. 'Also, does the royal family really need another Valkan? Azil is quite proficient as is.'
'To be honest,' Azil cleared his throat, 'I've served the king for twenty years, I have a family, and I long for a quiet life on my own farm. But that time still has yet to come, and I am certain this boy can ease the heavy responsibilities on my shoulders.'
'Before we decide on this,' the king spoke. 'Tell me about the boy's capabilities, how did he fair at the end of these eight years?'
'He's exceptional,' Detla spoke fast and proud. 'We've taught him more than any student has asked for, he's the top of his class, he's even nearly got the better of me once... once.'
'I agree,' Ûlma took a large sip of wine. 'He learned a lot more than any other student. The elf will agree with us.'
Elandiël nodded.
'Though his studies could've been finer,' Melga said. 'He did show promise to the very last day. He isn't much of the academic type but notably improved. I wouldn't recommend him becoming a Valkan for the royal family if I wasn't fully certain.'
The king became deep in thought.
'I agree with them,' Ava said, 'Tessriel has become good friends with Daarion. She said he has the capability of rallying those around him, he has this aura of trust with him. I believe she's fallen in love with the boy as well.'
'She's what?' the king accidentally pushed over his goblet. 'I won't have my daughter catch feelings for this boy.'
'She already has,' the queen smiled deceivingly, 'many years ago. Maybe if you would be more involved in her life you would've noticed.'
The king was silent. Only Ava, the fair queen had the ability to silence the king in embarrassment.
'Let the boy become a Valkan under the queen,' Eadgar circled his finger on the rim of his wine glass. 'As Azil said, let his responsibilities be shared by another. Having two dragons to do bidding has great power. What I heard already from the mentors is that this boy has already surpassed the normal student. It fascinates me to see what this Daarion can do with the abilities of a Valkan.'
'It's still the king's choice,' Nestor sighed.
'What say you, my husband?' the queen rested her hand on the king's, knowing exactly how to sway his decision.
'Of what I heard about this boy, he's quite the exceptional student.' The king scratched his unkept hair in thought. 'I'll have him as the queen's Valkan.'
The queen smiled in relief. 'I am content with this decision, however, I refuse.'
Silence. All eyes were upon her.
'I do not require a dragon at my side,' Ava said. 'I have much more to rule than just another man at my side. Let Tessriel have him as her dragon. They already share a bond and having her command him will prove to be effortless in the tasks the kingdom holds. Furthermore, I'll be more at ease knowing she has a Valkan at her side when I send her out in the kingdom.'
Nods and hums were answers, for the queen had always shown her tenacity among them. Not even the king could outspeak the cunning queen.
'Good,' Ava sat back in her seat, not even supporting a slight smirk. 'Then let it be so.'
The teachers were proud of what they have achieved. Nestor was the only one that did not approve, he shook his head as he drank the remainder of his wine.
'A fine decision my king and queen,' Melga bowed his head slightly.
'But he can only be named the princess's Valkan after the return from the mountain forge,' the king spoke. 'When will they depart?'
'In two days, my king,' Melga tapped his staff, 'but as you know, forging their armour may take months.'
'I understand,' Ezlin said.
As Melga and the other teachers spoke to the king and his council, Daarion told his friends that he dreamt of the great war. His friends comforted him, though he detested lying to his friends. They sat at their usual spot in the garden near the steps to the castle entrance.
The castle door flung open; her raven locks floated as she ran towards Daarion.
'Oh, Daarion,' the princess threw herself at him, she hugged the young man with passion. 'I'm beyond proud of you.'
She kissed him; he loved the taste of her sweet lips. Their friends quickly stood up, leaving the young lovers to celebrate their own way.
The two sat among the flower bushes. She spoke about her life that she would journey with Daarion on his duties. She did not care much for Daarion's dream in the last trial. She was proud and in love. He felt warmth, he felt wanted, he was in love.
The following day, in the early hours of the morning, the one hundred students were given noble clothes. The clothes were only given to the one hundred students destined to become Valkans. Outside the city walls, the students were led to large barns. Every barn had multiple horses, which every student was given. Daarion's horse reminded him of the old horse in the barn where he grew up. It was a courser horse with a shining chestnut coat. Daarion named the horse Autumn, only parting ways if the rider falls, or the steed.
The students rode in two columns, with the three teachers up front. A carriage was dragging behind, on it was an obsidian pot, a hundred vials in crates, a smaller obsidian pot, and stone pillars. They were led on a pathway through a forest, the forest was thick but overly familiar to the students, for classes were often sent through the forest to gather food and survive nights under the teachings of Elandiël.
The sun was high when they reached the edge of the forest, a wide-open land lay in front of them. The grass was soft, yet surprisingly short.
Melga ordered the students to stand in formation. The pot was placed further away from the students. The pillar was set on the opposite side of the obsidian pot. The smaller pot was placed atop the pillar.
They waited; the sun drew itself above the tree line.
A blur was caught far away in the sky. As it neared, the students became more vocal, awestruck them as soon as they could fully see the figure.
Before them, the dragon floated down onto the grass. The scales gleamed from the sunlight, its four legs were strong yet elegant, its wings were great in size, it had a lengthy neck, though its face was alluring yet frightening. The eyes were orange with pupils like a cat's. With every step, a rumbling thump reverberated. The dragon knew its own beauty, but it did not boast nor stretched its wide wings-it merely approached.
The dragon sat cat-like beside the obsidian pot. The three teachers bowed low; the students followed. The dragon acknowledged it and bowed its head in return.
The dragon then laid its head on the grass. Melga neared with crystal vials. Detla filled the pot with pure water. Melga nodded, the dragon winked its eye, a tear came from its eye. The dragon shed five tears in which Melga caught all of them in five vials, filling them to the top.
Awe was among the students.
Melga poured the five dragon tears into the smaller pot atop the pillar. The pot was nearly half full of dragon tears. The three teachers stood back. The dragon lifted itself, it eyed the pot with tears. A heat came from the dragon, from its mouth came fire, the fire engulfed the dragon tears. The pot was unharmed, obsidian was outstandingly durable against dragon fire. Melga went back towards the pot, he filled a vial with the dragon's tears. The tears were now many different colours, as if a rainbow was caught in the vial.
Detla filled vials with the pure water from the larger pot, then set them back into the crates.
Melga poured a thick teardrop into the vials of water. The water adopted the same colours as the dragon tears. He poured a drop into all the vials until the tears were depleted.
Every student was handed a vial containing the drop of a dragon tear.
'By drinking this, you revoke your family name,' Melga said. 'With this, you become a symbol of peace. You will become a dragon, a Valkan.'
Daarion was eager to drink but awaited the approval.
'Kneel,' Melga said. 'Recite your undying oath.'
The students knelt. They all spoke as one. 'Here I am. A dragon among all. Here I am. A protector for all. Here I am. The shield for those in need. Peace, I will forge. Justice, I will bring. Until my dying day.'
'You may drink,' Melga bowed with delight.
The students drank, none hesitated. Daarion always remembered the salty thick taste.
To the surprise of the students, none felt any different.
'The effects shall not commence within the first day of drinking the tear,' Melga announced.
Melga turned towards the dragon, he bowed low, all followed the wizard. The dragon bowed its head in return, it began walking off. Melga caught the sight of Daarion, then remembered.
'Valkan!' the wizard called.
The dragon halted; it turned back. It did not seem vexed.
Melga began speaking. The language he spoke was unknown to all that were present. The language felt powerful with elaborate words.
The dragon spoke back, with the shock of all the new Valkans. The dragon's voice was deep, the voice rumbled with every word. The words were long, slow, and above all beautiful to the ear.
Melga looked back, he signalled for Daarion to come forward. The dragon gazed at Daarion with intent, it growled. Voices crept into Daarion's head, unknown voices, not many, but still, he couldn't make out a single word.
The dragon spoke again. The wizard stroked his beard, intrigued by the words.
After a short while, the dragon bowed its head again and went on its way, its wings caused an extreme gust of wind. The voices faded as the dragon left.
Melga seemed deep in thought on the trip back. The Valkans still did not feel any changes, though they kept examining their hands for any alterations.
'Daarion,' Melga called the Valkan.
Daarion trotted his horse over to Melga at the very front of the company.
'How are you feeling?' Melga stroked his beard.
'Normal,' Daarion said.
'You've probably been wondering what the dragon said, aren't you?'
'Yes, sir.'
'What you dreamt might be a coming future, or so the dragon said,' the wizard spoke softly. 'It confirmed the statement in the book, when war and death rule the world, the Valkan of death shall cleanse it. The dragon believes that you might be a key to something greater.'
'To what?' Daarion felt unease.
'The dragon is uncertain,' Melga said. 'The only certainty it has on the answers we seek are from the divine dragons themselves.'
'I see,' Daarion said. 'Did it say where to find them?'
'No,' Melga's head dropped, 'he said the divine dragons haven't been seen since the end of the great war.'
'Where do I find answers then?' Daarion spoke louder.
'The dragon said to wait,' Melga said. 'Answers shall find their way towards you. But nevertheless, you are special, Daarion. You are destined for great things.'
Daarion's head lowered, the eagerness for answers still not eased. 'There was one thing though. When the dragon saw me, I heard voices, voices I had never heard. Some were low, some were rumbling. The language was unknown.'
'Strange,' Melga twirled his beard. 'I've heard dragons have telekinetic capabilities. This is the first time I've encountered anything of the sort. I ought to do some research on this. As for what you should do... I have no idea. All we can do is wait for answers, as the dragon said.'
The remainder of the journey home was troubling for Daarion. He felt that a burden has set itself upon him, a burden that cannot be lifted for a long time. As the party neared the city, they heard the cheers, drums, and trumpets from the citizens. They celebrated the next generation of Valkans. Flowers were thrown at their feet; the flowers made a carpet reaching the castle steps. There, the king, and queen, along with their children stood to welcome them. Paladins were standing stiffly at the sides of the steps. The horses were taken back to the stables after the king greeted the Valkans.
They bathed for the last time in their rooms, they were given dashing clothes, the girls were given lovely gowns which they all adored.
A feast was held in the throne room, a more traditional, luxurious feast containing many nobles, elves, and dwarves from across the kingdom.
The five friends utterly enjoyed themselves, yet they felt sadness for leaving their home in a mere day. They sat around a table while drinking sweet wine.
'Well,' Erwan said. 'Why don't we have ourselves a drinking game? It's the last night we'll be able to be drunk, after all.'
'Not tonight, sadly,' Haxios took a last sip from his wine.
'What?' Erwan nearly spat out his wine. 'Never thought I'd hear those words being uttered by you.'
Haxios stood. 'May I have this dance,' Haxios held out his hand towards Lyra.
'Oh,' Lyra giggled. 'Of course.'
Haxios led her to the center of the hall where people were dancing to a slow lute and flute duet.
'How delightful,' Yara had a radiant smile.
'I didn't expect that either,' Erwan said jokingly. 'Never knew Haxios was such a romantic, I expected that much from Daarion.'
'Hey, at least I have someone to be romantic with,' Daarion said with a sarcastic grin. 'At least I don't hug my pillow while I sleep.'
'Oh!' Erwan said. 'So, you're watching grown men sleeping, are you?'
'No grown man would ever sleep like that with their pillow,' Daarion struggled to hold in his laughter.
They both broke out with laughter. Yara enjoyed the bickering of the two young men as well.
'Haxios isn't doing it for himself,' Yara said. 'He's probably detesting every second. He's doing it for her.'
They examined the two dancing slowly, wrapped in each other's arms. Lyra truly loved it.
'Yes, well how about that drinking game?' Erwan changed the subject to leave the two with no onlookers.
'Pardon me,' Tessriel spoke as she approached.
'Ah, Princess,' Erwan jumped with glass in hand. 'Care to join us on a drinking game?'
'Apologies, Erwan,' she said. 'But I want-.'
'Daarion?' Erwan sat down. 'Yes, yes. You can take him. I'll drink with Yara.'
The princess's lips sparkled with a dazzling smile. The two walked off.
'Enough drinking, Erwan,' Yara stood. 'Come, join me for a dance or two.'
'I'm not much of a dancer.'
'I'll teach you,' she pulled his arm, dragging him towards the music.
Tessriel led Daarion through the castle. She showed him the luxurious halls, as well as some sizeable rooms which he imagined himself owning such a room. They walked through wide, tall halls with her arm wrapped around his. She led him up many stairs, leading to the tall towers.
'How are you feeling?' she asked. 'Any alterations?'
'No,' he said. 'They said it only starts developing about a day after drinking the tear. But some might feel it within mere hours of drinking it.'
'That's good,' she said.
'How's that good?' he asked, curious.
'Oh, no reason,' she had a seductive look in her eyes. 'Here we are.'
She opened a large door. The room was sumptuous. It had the sweet smell of peony perfume to it, the same aroma of the princess. A large wooden chandelier illuminated the room. An immense bed was on the far side of the room covered in colourful bedding.
'Is this your room?' he asked, stunned.
'It is,' she locked the door behind her.
'It's quite impressive.'
She took his hands in hers. She stared deep into his.
'I've thought about this many times.' Her heart was thumping. 'I want to be with you, before your body changes, before you leave, before-.'
He kissed her with passion. She tugged on his shirt, unbuttoning it quickly. Her hands caressed his body, feeling each bump of muscle. He pulled on the excessive strings on the back of her dress, allowing her to breathe freely, yet heavier. Tongue to tongue, kissing eagerly. Struggling, they fondled at her dress, unable to release her body.
'Rip it off,' she whispered heavily.
'What?' he asked.
'Rip the bloody thing off,' she whispered aggressively, yet seductively.
A tear, all that remained was a thin layer of gold chiffon. Awestruck him, for he saw her striking body. She leaned closer, undoing his pants with a bit of struggle. The force of beating hearts piled the room as he lifted her chiffon. He gazed for a moment; never had he been enthralled by such a sight. He moved closer, his tight hands, brushing over her soft arches. Her whimpers, soft and alluring. She took his hands in hers, moving back she led him atop her on her bed. Her body was beautiful, elegant, and soft. His body was strong and hard against hers. He felt her and she felt him. They fought on. He saw the pain, the pleasure. He held her close.
There was love.
Her eyes opened. He lay beside her, at peace. His eyes opened; he saw her with disordered hair.
'Morning,' she whispered.
He kissed her. A knock came from the door. She jumped, she grabbed sheets and covered herself.
'Quick,' she whispered again. 'Go hide on the balcony, you're not supposed to be here.'
He grabbed a sheet, opened the balcony's door, a cool gust came through. She slid his clothes under her bed and opened her door. A servant with a basket of fruits came in, placing it on a wooden table.
'Your bath is ready, your grace,' the servant gave a slight bow.
'Thank you,' the princess pulled up the sheets, covering more of her body. 'I'll be there in a moment.'
The servant left, rather not asking about the chaos the room was struck by, or the absolute mess of her hair.
Tessriel opened the balcony door. Daarion rushed in, shivering.
'It's cold so high up,' he said.
She covered him with her warm body and bedsheets.
'Better?' she asked.
'Much better,' he hugged her.
'You ought to get yourself clean and ready.'
He got himself clothed and opened the door.
'Wait,' she said. 'This might be a farewell, for now.'
He pulled her towards him, he kissed her, a kiss that consisted of a fragment of love. He saw her eyes, eyes of the sky, her soft pink lips. Her hair, raven, and floating in the breeze. Her whimper through the kiss, etched in his mind. He turned. She saw him descending the stairs and a slight feeling of loneliness struck her heart. Though she knew he would return.
He left for the hostel. He took a long bath while Erwan still slept, for it was still the early hours of the morning. He dressed in comfortable new clothes that were laid out on his bed.
The Valkans were called out to the steps of the castle. There they stood with all their belongings in large leather bags. The citizens of the city gazed upon the Valkans in pride. The king and his family came forth.
'And so, it is,' the king spoke. 'The Valkans are born, and in their birth, peace is manifested. We gather here to witness their departure towards their destiny. May they spread peace, and justice throughout their journeys.'
The king bowed; all followed the king's bow. Tessriel bowed as she met eyes with Daarion. He saw sadness on her face, yet a faint smile was given to him. He lingered, fixing his eyes on the princess, and absorbed her features. He bowed his head, departing with the company on horseback. The young Valkan looked back, the princess stood alone at the top of the castle steps. He knew he would return, if only to gaze upon her a single time.