When Bestor came into view, Valen knew immediately that they could not stop there. True, it was close enough to the wyvern hatcheries of the Divide that it would likely have accommodations for the occasional drake or two, but not only did they have no money, they had no idea if they would even be welcome there.

If the Emperor’s proclamation ordering the enslavement or death of all wyverns had already reached the people here, then landing near the town with two of the now illegal drakes would only lead to more danger for them and trouble for the people who lived there.

So they pushed on, leaving the specks of light that were the only sign of civilization for miles behind them. Miraculously, Raenelir was doing far better with the strain of yet another extended flight with the added weight of two humans and a wyvern hatchling on his back than Valen had been expecting. While he would still tire out faster than he would have otherwise, it boded well for the distance they might be able to travel before the night was over.

Beneath them, hilly country bathed in the darkness of night gave way to sporadic clumps of trees on slightly less rolling hills, before fading entirely into a wide swath of forest that Valen knew extended almost to the Eastern coast and far to the West, past the Twin Lakes, more than ninety leagues away.

It might have been the largest swath of forested land in all of Parovia, save for the Darkwylds far away across the Divide. Here, though, there was a giant gaping hole in the middle of the forest where the Twin Lakes lay with the city of Lakevale built between them.

They were still at least another day’s flight from the city, if not more, but the thought of it reminded him of another, much closer place they might find temporary refuge. At that encouraging thought he felt his spirits lift. If he remembered his Da's maps correctly, though he had never physically been this far from the Hatchery before, they had to be fairly close to a rather sizable source of freshwater.

Unfortunately, he had no way to know just how far – or near – it might be, especially without daylight's assistance. He had to make do with the moon and starlight, though thankfully the sky remained clear, which gave him a wide view of the land sprawling out beneath them. Besides, in the distance Valen could make out the first hints of the rising sun as a line of orange appeared along the horizon.

Hera shifted in front of him, huddling just a bit closer as her body shook from the cold. He felt it too, of course, and knew also that if not for the natural warmth that Raenelir gave off as they rode him they might very well have been sick or possibly dead by now simply from exposure. He found himself patting the wyvern’s side again, and despite the Highborn’s heavy breathing that had finally started up again, Valen could feel Raen’s body rumble in response and grinned.

Of course, he was also doubly thankful that Hera was able to hold Aevra tight against her, the added heat of the second, smaller wyvern keeping her even toastier than him, while the young drake herself just seemed overjoyed to be soaring through the sky. He supposed it made sense, given that one day she would be able to fly on her own as well. He still felt odd seeing such a young creature so comfortable despite the freezing wind that buffeted them, though. Sighing, he shook his head and looked away.

As Valen turned his gaze back towards the land before them, his eyes caught light glinting off something in the distance, and a jolt of excitement shot through him.

Ura's Glade!

Luck seemed to be on their side, though he supposed that the opposite might be said as well, when he remembered what it was that had driven them from their home at such a mad pace. Shaking off those dark thoughts, Valen forced them back into that deep, dark place where he didn’t have to deal with them or think about dealing with them until he was good and ready, and their lives were not still in danger.

“Raenelir!” he cried, though his voice was carried away from him by the wind and the blast of air that entered his mouth made him sputter and gag. He shut his mouth immediately, pulling himself tighter against the wyvern’s back as he tried to recover. That had been stupid of him. How else was he supposed to direct the Highborn towards the body of water, though?

This time around, at least, that was a problem he would not have to find an answer for. The Highborn himself seemed to have noticed the water as well, making a wide arc through the air until he had turned directly towards it.

What felt like an eternity later, but what was really only a half hour or so, they were circling above the waters of Ura's Glade, a runoff lake born from a river that peeled off of the Twin Lakes further South. It was certainly a wonderful sight for all four of the parched travelers. Hera and Valen were both fully awake as they descended close enough to the water that Raenelir’s feet began to skim along its surface, sending up a spray into the air.

Valen couldn’t help the open smile that split his face as he felt cold, fresh water misting over him. Then Raen lifted up, turning to a break in the trees along the edge of the lake. A few moments later he came in for a landing, and while this one was not quite as rough as the landing they had experienced at the barn, it still was not quite pleasant. Something to work on. he supposed

“Ugh…” Valen found himself groaning as he slipped down from Raenelir’s back, his muscles and thighs in even more pain than they had been the first time he'd made that descent. That was going to be fun to deal with. Luckily, he would at least be able to clean himself off in the lake so that he wouldn’t smell quite so terrible anymore.

It seemed like the Highborn had a similar idea, because once Hera and Aevra had slid off his back to join Valen he launched rather suddenly from where he had landed and dove straight into the waters of Ura's Glade, startling everyone. The wyvern was totally submerged for over a minute, and Valen was beginning to worry, before he finally burst forth from the water again.

When a fish slipped from the wyvern’s mouth to plop back into the water, he suddenly realized why Raen had gone swimming.

He was hungry.

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While the amount of noise the drake was making worried him some, he was too relieved by the fact that they had access to fresh water and possibly fish for food to care.

Aevra was squirming about in Hera’s arms like she had gone mad, so she let the hatchling go. With a triumphant squeal, the little wyvern ran straight for the water and began to splash about in a combination of activity that included playing around and lapping thirstily at the water she played in.

Hera looked on with an expression that seemed somewhere between grim and happy, an odd combination that seemed uncomfortable on her face. Valen sighed, taking a step toward the water himself.

“You’d better get yourself a drink, before Aevra and Raenelir decide to use the water as a bathroom, too,” he chuckled, although the laughter made his body hurt more. Hesitating only a few seconds longer, Hera wound up giving a slight shrug, bending down to pull off her worn leather boots and socks, then walking into the water. She stopped where it came up just above her ankles. There she bent over once more, using her hands to scoop as much water as she could and lifting it to her mouth for a drink.

Valen was going to wait to hear what Hera had to say about how the water of Ura'a Glade actually tasted, but seeing her take a drink only seemed to heighten his own thirst, so he hurried over to join her immediately instead.

“It’s good,” was all Hera said before she took another drink, and this time Valen did the same. As the earthy but blessedly clear, cool water went down his throat, a pleasant feeling spread through his chest and he grinned. He had never known just how wonderful some fresh water could be.

Though he hoped to never be in such a situation again, the feeling of quenching such an intense thirst was supremely satisfying.

So satisfying, in fact, that he was too distracted to notice someone approaching until Raen suddenly leapt from the water with a roar, crashing into the small sandy embankment and nearly knocking Valen and Hera from their feet in fright. Whirling around once they regained their balance, the two Galars saw what had caused the wyvern’s aggressive behavior. Just beyond the tree line sat a middle-aged man with a shaved head and a thick salt-and-pepper beard, looking at them with wide eyes from atop his wagon. The horses that drew the wagon, for their part, took the angry wyvern as well as could be imagined. They began to panic, but a quick snap and a few sharp words from the man on the wagon had them back under control.

“Woah there, friends, would you mind calming your… ah… friend there?” the stranger asked, his voice shaking a bit despite a visible effort to fight it as the drake growled at him. Eyes narrowing in suspicion – this was, after all, their first interaction with another person since fleeing the Divide – Valen slowly reached up to rest a hand on Raenelir’s neck, patting him carefully but firmly.

“Calm now, Raen, relax. Relax,” he murmured, just loud enough for the wyvern, with his powerful senses, to hear. Miraculously the Highborn obeyed, his growl becoming a low, almost inaudible rumble as he left his defensive crouch and stepped back. He did not, however, take his eyes off the stranger, which Valen was alright with.

If the man tried anything, he had no desire to be taken by surprise.

“What do you want from us?” Valen asked, making his words sound like a demand rather than a question, though that was only to hide the quaver in his voice. He was still weak from their exhausting days of flight.

“Ah, apologies, it’s just – I was wondering how two young’uns such as yourselves might have wound up in the middle of the woods with a wyvern, or two as I can see, as companions?” the man replied, nodding towards Aevra as the hatchling stepped confidently around Raenelir, past Hera and between Valen's legs in the direction of the stranger. The little wyvern cocked her head and sniffed, stopping only a few feet from the man and his horses, then let out a little huff as if she didn’t care one way or the other about this newcomer.

Hera hurried forward and scooped Aevra off the ground then, which she was not too happy about as, squirming in resistance immediately.

It was now that Valen saw, as he took a few steps towards the man, what he had missed from above and after landing. An obviously well-worn road ran right along the edge of the trees here, out of sight from the water. If he had not been so distracted by a drink, or the break from their constant running and flying, he would have looked around to make sure their landing spot was secure when they first touched down. It would have been impossible to miss the road then.

Now they had been surprised by the approach of a total stranger whose intentions were unknown. After everything, Valen could not help but feel uneasy. From the look on his sister’s face she shared his misgivings in dealing with anyone they didn't know. He was about to turn to Raen and let the wyvern chase the man off when he saw the man’s wagon and froze.

The back was covered, but through an opening in the side he could see the wares within; there were clothes there, a few sparse offerings, along with traveling cloaks and blankets; a few travelling packs were stacked next to boxes full of what Valen could not tell, though if he had to venture a guess there was probably food of some sort in there too, or at the very least hunting or fishing equipment.

The man was a trader, and seeing the items he carried with him reminded Valen of their complete lack of supplies. His stomach rumbled at the thought of food the man might have with him. Glancing back once more at Hera and Raenelir, he locked eyes with the stranger and heaved a sigh.

“We… we’re on the run. Our home was… we’re here because we were running, and we got tired, so we didn’t have a choice and we saw water, so…” Valen’s voice faltered, and the sheer exhaustion he had been hiding must have shown then, because the trader’s face seemed to soften before his eyes. The man slid down from his seat on the wagon.

“Arlene, hon, come out here. We’re gonna set camp for the night,” he called.

“What? But we’ve only just started for the day!” a voice called back, and then the doors at the back of the wagon swung open and a portly woman who looked to be only a little younger than the man driving it stepped out, her brown hair, shot through with a few shocks of gray, pulled back into a matronly bun. She froze as soon as she saw Valen and Hera and the wyverns, eyes widening.

For a moment Valen thought the drakes had frightened her, but then she was charging right up towards them as if Raenelir was not even there.

“Gah, but you poor things! You look dreadful! Don’t just sit there all useless now, Fredrick! Go and fetch the extra tents and my things from the wagon. We’ll be camping here for the night,” the woman declared, even as she pulled Valen and Hera into an almost violently tight hug.

Valen’s breath rushed out of him at the abrupt hug, and Raen immediately began to growl again, but the woman turned from him and his sister to face the Highborn and placed her hands on her hips, glaring up into the wyvern’s eyes as if she were simply staring down an unruly child.

“You hush now, you hear me? You’re being rude,” the woman admonished, before swatting Raenelir on the nose and turning away as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Valen’s mouth practically fell open in shock, and even the Highborn himself seemed to have no idea how to respond this strange, stoutly build woman who had swept in out of nowhere and had no qualms with scolding a wyvern as if they were a part of her every day life.

The woman was almost back to the wagon before she paused and looked over at Valen and Hera again, one brow rising higher than the other.

“Well don’t just stand there! Come, sit down and relax, lovelies. There’ll be time to tell us what happened later if you wish, but ‘til then just let Fredrick and I do all the work,” she told them. Then she was back in the wagon, yelling at the man that Valen assumed was her husband about how he had started getting out the wrong tent.

And all the two siblings could do was look at each in bewilderment, with no idea just what it was they had gotten themselves into now.