The Road to the Southern Borders

The sun hung high over the kingdom of Valerya, casting golden light over its sprawling landscapes. From rolling fields of lavender to dense, ancient forests, the land stretched endlessly before us as we traveled southward. The roads, paved with smooth stones, wound through hills and past villages that seemed untouched by time.

It should have been peaceful—a scenic journey filled with quiet contemplation.

Instead, I had the misfortune of riding alongside Valtor.

He rode beside me, his storm-gray eyes occasionally glancing my way as if studying a particularly annoying puzzle he couldn't solve. The air between us was thick with unspoken words, and tension coiled between every glance.

I ignored him. Or at least, I tried to.

The rhythmic clopping of hooves filled the silence until Valtor finally spoke. "You're unusually quiet."

I scoffed, keeping my gaze on the landscape ahead. "Maybe I'm enjoying the silence."

"That would be believable if you ever actually shut up."

I turned to him, raising a brow. "Oh, so you do listen to me. And here I thought my words went to waste on you."

His lip curled, not quite a smirk, but close enough. "Unfortunately, I'm forced to hear every unnecessary quip that comes out of your mouth."

I placed a hand over my heart in mock offense. "How cruel, Your Highness. And here I thought we were becoming friends."

Valtor leaned forward slightly in his saddle. "We are not friends."

"Yet here we are, riding together through the countryside, having a lovely conversation." I waved a hand dramatically. "Sounds like friendship to me."

His gaze darkened, but before he could retort, Seraph's voice rang out from ahead.

"Aric, why are you dressed like a priest?"

I blinked, looking down at myself.

Right.

Unlike the others, who were clad in regal riding attire—tailored jackets, breeches, and polished boots—I was still wearing the white robes of the Priesthood of Knowledge: flowing, simple, and painfully out of place.

I shrugged. "It's comfortable."

Herold cackled from his horse. "No wonder people keep staring at you. They probably think we've kidnapped a holy man."

I sighed, adjusting my grip on the reins as I glanced around. He wasn't wrong.

In every village we passed, people lined the roads, eager to catch sight of the heirs of Valerya. Banners of noble houses fluttered in the wind, cheers erupting as the villagers called out names.

"VALTOR! VALTOR!"

"PRINCE SERAPH!"

"HEROLD, BLESS US WITH YOUR MAGIC!"

Seraph and Herold, never ones to let a moment of praise go unappreciated, grinned and waved at the crowds. Seraph even sent small sparks of lightning into the air, drawing delighted gasps from the children.

Elara, riding gracefully beside them, blushed as a group of villagers bowed deeply in her direction.

And me?

I heard the whispers.

"Who is that?"

"There are only twelve heirs, aren't there?"

"Why is a priest traveling with them?"

"He looks clean though. And holy..."

I slumped slightly in my saddle, sighing. "I knew I should've changed."

Valtor hummed, clearly amused. "You do look ridiculous."

I shot him a glare. "And yet, I still manage to look better than you. Tragic, really."

He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "Do you ever stop talking?"

"Do you ever stop glaring at me like I personally offended your entire bloodline?"

The corner of his mouth twitched, but before he could say anything else, one of our attendants rode up beside us.

"The reason Prince Aric has not been formally introduced to the people yet is because the Queen planned to announce his title during the Festival of Lights."

I perked up at that. "Oh? So I have to wait until then to be officially acknowledged?"

That was fine—I'd rather stay a commoner a little longer. Besides, I wasn't fully adjusted to this new royalty life yet.

The attendant hesitated. "...Yes."

Seraph, who had leaned back to listen, smirked. "Oof. That means you're basically just a really well-dressed commoner until the festival."

Herold snickered. "No wonder people are confused. They're probably wondering if you're our travel chaplain."

"Fantastic," I muttered. "Not only am I an unknown prince, but I also look like I'm here to bless your sins."

"Then you must be terribly overworked," Valtor said dryly.

I narrowed my eyes. "I take it back. You should go to confession first."

Herold nearly fell off his horse laughing. Even Seraph gave me an approving nod.

Elara, ever kind, nudged her horse closer to mine. "I think you look fine, Aric."

I sighed dramatically. "At least one of you has taste."

The teasing continued, but as we moved deeper into the southern lands, the mood subtly shifted.

The cheers grew fainter. The faces of the villagers we passed became more wary, more guarded.

Something was wrong.

The Queen had warned us that disturbances had been reported near the borders, similar to what we had faced in the forest. But seeing it firsthand was different.

Shadows stretched unnaturally along the roads. The air felt heavier, charged with something unseen. Even the animals in the fields seemed restless, their movements jittery.

I felt it deep in my bones.

Something was waiting for us.

And I wasn't sure we were ready.