Chapter 8: Border

Atop a mountain cliff, a man covered in bandages looked down towards a vast expanse of woodland.

Behind him were the familiar lands of man, war-torn and on fire, yet, “civilized.” Ahead of him however, were the uncharted wilds.

Dense clusters of trees packed together for miles on end, and as they stretched towards the horizon, those trees grew in size to fantastical heights. At that border line, the vegetation of the “forest” grew from plentiful to treacherously overgrown, and as the plants grew predatory, so too did the forest’s beasts turn into more than what man could handle.

Suddenly from the distance, heavy metal footsteps echoed, approaching closer and closer until a man clad in royal colors fell to one knee.

Before he could open his mouth to report, the prince had already spoke, “Have your men found the boy yet?”

“No, your highness.”

“It's…not unlikely that he had starved to death, was preyed upon by animals, or…”

A moment of tense silence took place, as the sergeant stared at the floor unable to give anything but excuses.

“...Keep sending patrols.”

The sergeant took his gaze away from the ground to look at his liege’s back.

“Interrogate and inspect the locals for any sign of the boy’s presence, or of any traces of his death.”

“If the men don’t find him, keep pushing the army towards the border between the Kingdom of Aelin, and the Forests of Emiendel.”

“But—”

“Unless we have his actual remains, they will keep searching.”

“Is that to be understood?”

“...Yes, my lord.”

The rustling of armor and leather shook. Standing up to quickly depart, the sergeant officer halted when the prince spoke up again.

“What of the border rangers that belonged to House Tor?”

Hesitantly, the officer replied, “Of those that didn't fight to their death, the rest have refused to submit for service under the royal banner.”

“...I surmise that they still remain fiercely loyal to the traitorous house of the lion, and are in dire need of corporal punishment!”

…The prince did not reply, as a long silence pervaded the surroundings.

Shifting uncomfortably, as if wanting to correct the mood, the sergeant added, “But…among the forest rangers…there is one individual that could be of use to the prince.”

His ears perked up, “Who?”

“An outcast of great skill but disreputable renown, he—”

The prince scoffed, “An outcast? Among the tight-knit border rangers?”

“No, a criminal, and if memory serves me correct, one recently sentenced to death.”

“...Yes, your highness, that one.”

Another long silence took place, before the prince sighed heavily, “...How soon can we employ him?”

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Surprised, the officer stuttered, “Ye— Yes! To…remove him from binds both legal and literal, then relocate his persons…”

“Approximately…no longer than a week, your highness.”

“Too long.”

“...Take my seal and transfer him directly to the area south of here.”

“Tell him if he cannot find the boy, I will expedite his sentence and carry it out myself.”

“Yes, your highness, I obey.”

With that, the sound of heavy metal footsteps disappeared down the mountain.

All that remained atop the overlook, was the sound of blowing winds, and the stoic, unwavering figure of the prince looking out into the distance.

…Or so it seemed.

Covered in white bandages head to toe, blood red started to bleed out from numerous locations. His left arm twitched violently, before bending at an unnatural angle. It seemed to droop as if hanging by a thread, and ironically, it was held in place by exactly that.

The prince swayed left and right, and as a gale blew, he finally toppled over.

Just before collapsing, two hands caught him from falling to his death.

…

On the floor of a forest lay scattered tens of thousands of autumn leaves.

A red-furred hare hopped across them none the wiser, and oddly enough, the trees above the creature seemed to be growing new leaves faster than they were losing them.

As it pattered over the forest floor, strangely it landed on a spot that seemed softer than the others.

It wasn’t the sensation of dirt or grass buried by leaves, but something softer.

In its curiosity it patted its furred feet on the ground…before starting to urinate! And that was when a hand swiftly emerged from the bed of leaves, and caught the hare in its grasp.

“Hu— Huh?” Vendus groaned groggily.

The young child was happily sleeping beneath the thousands of leaves, until of course, something started pawing on his chest, then…peeing on him.

Scrambling and struggling, the hare fought with all its strength to escape his clutch.

It did not know however, that its captor was more afraid of it, than it was of him.

Vendus took a glance at the creature in his hand. It wasn’t exactly a rabbit, but it looked like one enough for him to immediately release his grasp, and stumble backwards frantically in fear.

It wasn’t fear of being hurt however that made him frantic, but the fear of hurting others.

After the hare’s little furred feet touched the ground, it quickly scurried away and out of sight.

Sighing heavily, the boy shook his head.

And not a moment later after awakening, he started to scratch his body all over.

“By the gods…!”

A rash had spread all throughout his body due to eating the wrong kind of berries. Red erupted all over his skin, including even on his private areas where unfortunately, it was most inflamed.

Perhaps though, it was fortunate that the berries only caused a rash, and not death. Evidently, young Vendus slacked on his survival studies when it came to gathering, albeit not hunting.

It was only through sheer exhaustion that he was able to previously fall asleep without minding the unbearable itch.

As he walked low through the forest, a single hand scratched frantically every part of his body. If he could use his other hand he would…but even a single twitch of his fingers would rend him in excruciating pain.

He looked at his left hand, covered in plant fiber serving as sterile bandages. Inside the dressing, were numerous medical herbs stuffed inside the hollow hole that went straight through his flesh.

Luckily, as a former noble he was taught of survival medicines, and his mother had made sure to cram that knowledge inside his brain.

Turns out, that same knowledge ended up prolonging his life. It would have been humorously unfortunate, if Vendus ended up dying from wound infection and everything ended just like that.

Remembering his mother, gratitude, along with a sorrowful smile appeared on his face. It was only when people were really gone, would individuals realize the life that they filled with their presence, and the aching void left in their absence.

Vendus shook his head left and right. For more reasons than one, he couldn’t linger on those thoughts and emotions.

The sun was setting, and he had made it a habit to sleep during the day, and traverse the forest during the night.

His pursuers had never once stopped searching for him, spreading all throughout the miles of forest.

Crossing through the forest during the day almost got him caught multiple times, while during the night, shadows cloaked him, while his pursuers were forced to carry bright torches in the darkness.

Needless to say, he could be aware of their position at all times, while easily evading their sight.

On top of that…with the threat of death looming over his head, he was forced to excavate any and all hidden talents by an accelerated degree. While being born from talented individuals didn’t quite mean he would inherit the same gifts, he most definitely did and more.

Vendus’s successful evasion thus far, could be attributed to the way even his casual footsteps had become dead silent, how his heightened senses took note of even the subtlest detail, and how he had created a special awareness, that constantly took in his spatial memory and devised how to best stay out of sight.

Apart from those things…he also had someone looking out for him. From behind, an individual was constantly deceiving, and interfering chaotically with the search.

With all those factors combined, he was quickly making his way to the border line.

‘The border…’ He had seen it on a map before. A well-detailed one too, thanks to his former riches.

Separating the Kingdom of Aelin from the City-states of Rothspeck, were the Mystical Forests of Emiendel.

The map quite literally put the word, “Mystical” on it before the forest’s official title. Covered in an alarming shade of red, the vast region larger than even some kingdoms, was awfully distinct for the way there were no trade routes going in and out of it, and not even dirt roads had been made to connect Aelin to Rothspeck.

Trying to remember their conversation, Vendus had asked his father a very simple, “Why’s that part so red?”

To which he got the very simple and vague answer, “Not safe.”

Unfortunately however, that not-safe region was his only hope to live, and was thus his current destination. The increasing number of pursuers endlessly spewing out from behind him, had constantly driven him further and further south.

And if Vendus stopped to actually think about it, that was exactly the prince’s intentions if he wasn’t found any time soon— to hopefully push him into that region, and let him perish by himself.

Of the tens of millions that lived in the Kingdom of Aelin, less than a thousand could venture deep into those forests, and those who could actually cross the enchanted lands without threat of death, numbered on less than one hand.

So it seemed that Vendus was evading execution, only to end up in the digestive tracts of a carnivorous plant, or to end up as chewed meat inside a monster’s belly.

Unless of course, the blood in his veins offered him an opening from inside the shifting jaws of fate…