I’d been out in the wide world for a little over a few weeks now, and I didn’t like it.

My boots had stopped crunching through black sand and lifeless dirt. After a while, we’d finally reached a point where the dirty black and brown gave way to green, and even the occasional flower dotting the landscape. We were rapidly approaching the limits of my country’s territory.

According to my companions, Alverd and Kuro, we were nearing what little woodland Ishmar possessed along its southeastern border. As we got further from the Castle of Brimstone, I was experiencing my fair share of new sights and sensations. Thinking about how the state in which we’d left made my heart fall into my stomach though. I felt a familiar, gnawing pain start to eat at my chest and I had to force it back down before it could take hold of me.

Out here, away from the capitol, nothing mattered but the law of the strong. Out here it didn’t matter that I was, or rather, had been a princess. I had only two men I barely knew to guide me, and who were partially responsible for the mess I was in.

A sudden blast of cold wind made me pull the tattered cape I’d been given closer around me. I edged closer to the dying campfire. Kuro had insisted on only a small fire, easily doused if attention was drawn to us. Feverishly, I rubbed my hands together before facing my palms towards the flames. All of this was a far cry from what I was used to, even if I had had some training in survival out in the wild.

I, Alicia Helgart Irva Dragontamer VIII, until just recently, had been one of eight people in line for the throne of Ishmar. I was the youngest member of my family, hence why everyone looked down on me for being “the runt of the litter”. All of that meant little, now, since my home was in complete disarray, and many of my siblings were either dead or in no shape to assume the throne.

My half-brother Marcus, the First Prince of Ishmar, decided that he wanted to do away with the centuries-old traditions of our home and seize the throne for himself. In doing so, he orchestrated the deaths of my father, my half-brother Edgar, and countless innocent people. In the end, he didn’t even succeed, and the rest of my family was either dead or missing. It hurt to leave the only home I’d ever known in such a way, but I had no choice in the matter.

Even though I was unsure of the fates of most of my half-siblings, I knew one thing for certain. My elder sister Eliza had proven herself to be the vilest of them all. Worst yet, I had good reason to believe that she had somehow survived the tornado that had destroyed the Arena, which had been conjured by one of the young men who had started the whole mess.

I brooded in front of the campfire, staring into the embers. Kuro rolled over in his sleep, mumbling to himself under his breath. Kuro was a mage, which made him one of Ishmar’s greatest enemies. Mages were one of the few people able to fight dragons on their own, and as such they were very threatening to the dragon riders that made up much of Ishmar’s military forces.

If the mages of the Monarchy of Algrustos were anything like him, then it was little wonder why the war between them and Ishmar had never really gone anywhere. An army of dragons and their riders against an army of mages who wielded the elements seemed like a war destined to stagnate. Of course, Kuro was the only mage I’d ever met in the flesh, so maybe I was being premature in thinking all mages were like him.

He was overly sarcastic and very pessimistic, and he didn’t always show the proper respect I deserved as his employer, master and superior. He had big black bags under his eyes and when he wasn’t being a royal pain in my arse he was being a pain in the arse to his friend or whoever else was around. His hair always looked like it wasn’t washed and he slouched constantly. He was also pathetically short, barely any taller than me. Other than his magical ability, he wasn’t good for anything more than practice for my hammer.

However, I did owe him. Towards the end of our misadventure, he stood with me against my jealous siblings. He had my back, an Ishmarian, someone he had a right to hold a grudge against, but instead he had swallowed his pride and helped me fend off four of my royal siblings when it counted. I still didn’t fully understand the depth of his feelings about my people, but at the very least, we could be more or less civil towards each other.

I shifted my weight slightly, pulling the dragon egg I had stolen from my pouch so I could hold it to the fire. I’d lost the dragon that was my bond-mate to a misunderstanding. Kuro and his friend Alverd had stumbled across my dragon while I was on a training outing and killed it. That one event had set off the whole debacle that had ended in me being here now. When the egg hatched, it would bond with me and I would finally have a chance to start anew. Hopefully.

I was reminded of the injury in my right leg. Just a little something to remember home by, it was something one of my siblings had inflicted before we had fled. Kuro’s lack of knowledge regarding healing magic meant that he could not heal the injury, although he could cast a basic pain-killer spell that nullified the throbbing for a while. It was obviously wearing off.

It was nothing new to me that Kuro was being inconsistently helpful. Alverd was much more dependable in every regard.

As if on cue, Alverd walked out of the darkness and sat in front of the fire. Despite having been on his feet for close to two-thirds of the day now I could see in his eyes that he was still alert to any danger lurking in the dark. He took a seat in front of the fire and threw some branches he’d gathered into it, prompting it to throw sparks into the air. He carefully stoked the fire with one of the branches until it began to grow, then tossed it into the pile. I moved closer to the fire.

Unlike Kuro, Alverd was quite striking. He was very handsome, with fair brown hair and clear lake-blue eyes. He wore battle-scarred armor that seemed to augment his reassuring aura of courage and confidence. He was also obedient and chivalrous, and had treated me with nothing but decency and respect. Yes, I much preferred Alverd’s company than Kuro’s.

N-Not that I liked him or anything like that. I mean, it was thanks to Alverd that my dragon died in the first place. Ironically, if not for his slaying of my dragon, I might not even be alive now. I’d lost count of how many times he’d saved my life over the past few weeks. When you also took into account what my father had done to his home, it was even more unbelievable.

Alverd and Kuro once lived in a country called Marevar, the breadbasket of our continent of Selarune. But one day, about four or five years ago, my father decided to invade Marevar, shattering the neutrality truce the country had with its neighbors on all sides. It was now an annexed territory of Ishmar, with only a small city on its southern border maintaining independence with the help of a foreign ally’s army.

At the time, I’d been too young to participate. And after the war, my father began to change his views on Ishmar’s standing in the world. I learned later that he had pinned his hopes on me, thinking that I would change our beloved country for the better. It was a lot to place on my shoulders. I didn’t know if I was still able to carry out his ambitions anymore.

But there was a darker side to Alverd. He’d done things he was ashamed of, things I didn’t understand fully. He spoke of being a deserter, of how he ran from his home during our invasion. In my culture, being a deserter was a mark of deepest shame. It was cowardice, plain and simple. Yet Alverd was no coward in my eyes. He’d abandoned his post to save his friends. I didn’t see that as the act of a coward.

I wasn’t sure Alverd was as convinced of that as I was, though.

I wasn’t involved in the war that cost him his home and his friends and family. But that didn’t mean I was blameless. If my father was still alive, he would’ve left me to fix his mistakes and make amends for the crimes my country had committed against Marevar. I wasn’t a diplomat, though. I didn’t know the first thing about any of that.

Alverd didn’t seem to blame anyone for the deed other than himself. I mean, I would’ve understood if he desired revenge, like Kuro did, but instead, Alverd was more private about it. He told me that the man responsible for Marevar’s destruction was dead, and that nothing could be done about avenging his friends and family. I wasn’t sure if I fully believed that. I still didn’t know him well enough to know if he was capable of lying that well, but every instinct I had told me to trust him. He’d proven reliable so far.

Alverd left me to watch over his sleeping companion while he went off to gather ingredients for a balm that I could apply to my leg. That alone told me that he trusted me, at least. When he returned, I watched as he mixed the plants in a bowl and ground them up. Eventually, he added some water to turn it into a paste. He handed me the bowl, and I applied it to my swollen leg. I nodded to him in thanks.

Alverd stared into the fire. Time seemed to stand still while the two of us sat in awkward silence, with only the crackling of the fire and the ambient sounds of the nocturnal wildlife to accompany us. Crickets chirped in the tall grass and a wolf howled in the not-so-far-off distance. When Alverd finally broke the silence, I nearly jumped in surprise.

“So…Princess, have you given any more thought as to what you wish to do?”

Ugh. Princess. I had told Alverd not to refer to me as such at least six times over the past few weeks, but still he chose to do so. I was no longer a princess. I had no power or authority. His decision to refer to me as such was a formality. Again, I tried to remind Alverd of this, but this time I decided to try a new approach.

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“You know, I’ve told you that I’m technically no longer a princess. I don’t have the right to lay claim to such a title. So why do you insist on referring to me as such?” Alverd seemed to consider my words carefully. When he spoke it was in an even tone, as if he had anticipated such a question and had an answer waiting for me.

“Just because you have no power or fancy clothes or a crown does not mean you are not a princess, milady. I continue to serve because you are a princess in spirit. You have a noble soul, even if you have, forgive my bluntness, a rough exterior. In spite of that, you care for your charges in your own way. Even if you had only rags and were unable to pay us, I would still consider you a princess because of your concern for your people.”

I felt a surge of heat rise up in my face. I quickly averted my gaze so Alverd couldn’t see my face flushing.

“D-D-Don’t say such stupid things! You don’t mean any of it! You have to say that because I’m your employer and I’d clobber you if you didn’t!” When Alverd didn’t respond, I timidly turned my face back to see what he was doing. He was beaming at me with that stupidly charming smile that seemed to make my anger just… fade away.

It was partly a reflex on my part that I said such a thing. “Urgh. I can’t believe you can just say that with a straight face to me. Lucky for you, you’re not like those sycophants I knew growing up. So I’ll let you get away with it now. Don’t think you can just flatter me so flagrantly.” Secretly though, I could still feel my heart hammering in my chest a little.

Alverd was still looking at me. His expression hadn’t changed, although he was now looking me straight in the eye. When he saw that he’d gained my attention again, his smile got a little bit wider.

Uuuggghhh. I wanted to be mad. But looking at that smile, there was no way in hell I could still be mad. I’d have to be a real downer to still be angry after looking at that brilliant smile. I smiled back at him. When Alverd saw the smile stretch across my face, his own grew wider in victory, to the point where I wondered how it could even still fit on his face. Then the smiles faded and the moment passed. We stared into the fire again, listening to the crickets.

Kuro turned over in his sleep again, muttering something about how mage girls needed shorter skirts or some perverted nonsense. I made a mental note to smack him later for being such a pig, and to ask Alverd about the “reasoning” behind Kuro’s sleep-talking. Alverd chuckled at his friend’s sleep-induced ramblings.

Finally, Alverd manned up and asked me the pertinent question again.

“Princess, where is it that you wish to go? We cannot stay in Ishmar, or else we risk Eliza’s wrath. Kuro and I have been in this type of situation before, and staying in the country is a very bad idea.” I recognized Alverd’s question for what it was: he was fishing for an answer. “Of course, our solution wasn’t all that much more effective, either.”

Right. Alverd told me that before he and Kuro ended up in Ishmar, they had been hired for a job in the country of Guilford, a country Ishmar had bribed to stay neutral during the invasion in exchange for a cut of the profits for the conquest. The two mercenaries decided that, instead of being hanged for a crime they didn’t commit, they would flee to Ishmar, seeing as how there would be no extradition, and then find their way to a different country. That plan had backfired when they got tangled up in the political upheaval that eventually ended with the three of us on the run from my half-sister Eliza.

The question was: where would we go? Would Eliza bother sending assassins after me? I wondered. Deacon, Deanna, Shannon and Leila aren’t exactly smart, but together they are dangerous. Given that the four of them had worked together to try and kill me, they’d do the same to beat Eliza.

I didn’t have that luxury, I had to leave. Yet, I didn’t fully believe it. I don’t think I have the strength to leave my home the way it is. I stammered, but ultimately nothing came out of my mouth.

Alverd sat there, mulling it over. Now, I never pegged Alverd as smart. Loyal, maybe, courageous, definitely, but smart, no. Kuro said as much, too. So when Alverd opened his mouth and suggested something utterly outrageous, I was half-expecting it. And yet, Alverd’s idea was so out there that even I was completely shocked that he would even suggest it.

“How about Algrustos?”

“You have to be kidding me,” I sputtered. The Monarchy of Algrustos was the nation on Ishmar’s eastern border. It was populated by mages. However, these weren’t just your run-of-the-mill mages, like Kuro. Algrustos was powerful and militant, and they had no qualms about using their magic for war. I had heard many rumors about how Algrustian politics made Ishmar’s look tame by comparison.

Every Ishmarian soldier had a horror story to tell about the mages of Algrustos. During my berserker training, I’d heard my instructor tell stories about fighting demons and even the shambling undead during a border skirmish. Such practices were considered to be the work of pure evil. I’d never experienced magic used until meeting Kuro. And his magic was weak by mage standards, if my instructor was to be believed.

So for Alverd to suggest such a thing was dumb. Absolutely dumb. He wanted to dive out of the cooking pan and into the fire. I could feel my mouth open, but what came out was “uhhhh…”. It was just such a dumb idea. I couldn’t see his reasoning. Meanwhile, my mouth just stayed as it was, half open and gawky.

Alverd continued, “If we flee to Algrustos, we will be out of your sister’s reach. It’s a gamble, but given what Kuro knows about Algrustian border protocols, the border guardsmen have to report any captives to their superiors in Ethenia, the capital city. If we surrender to a patrol, your identity as a princess of Ishmar could get us an audience with the Witch-Queen.”

As much as I hated to admit it, he had a point. “It seems like a long shot. But we do have a saying in Ishmar: the truest path is straight through the heart of the flame. It’ll be dangerous and it might not even work, but if it gets us before the Witch-Queen then that’s half our problem solved already.”

From what little I knew, the current ruler of Algrustos was a young woman, barely older than me. Apparently, there had been some kind of assassination attempt when she was young, or something. It had happened about twenty years ago before I was even born. The Algrustians had declared war on us and pushed into our territory, but suddenly the deaths of their Wizard-King and Witch-Queen had halted the attack.

The Prime Minister, acting as regent, denounced Ishmar for the deed, but negotiated a cease-fire; he would pull all Algrustian forces from our territory in exchange for the safety of his troops. My father had agreed to the terms, and the Algrustians retreated with no fear of pursuit from Ishmarian forces.

The assassination attempt had failed to kill the baby daughter of the royal family. Hopefully, she was someone I could negotiate with. I wasn’t confident about it though, especially if she also believed that Ishmar had been behind the deaths of her parents. Assassination wasn’t typically how we solved our problems; Marcus and Eliza had been outliers. If she went into that negotiation already holding such prejudice, then any peace talks would likely be doomed from the start.

Unfortunately, as far as options went, I didn’t have a better one.

Even if she didn’t think we had assassinated her parents, it was a gamble. If the Witch-Queen hated Ishmarians as much as the next Algrustian, then we were sunk. I doubted she would take the news of a potential invasion by Ishmar led by a bloodthirsty psychopath like Eliza lightly. In fact, she might even mistake my warning for a formal declaration of war. The last thing I wanted was for Ishmar to reignite a full war with Algrustos.

I didn’t want that. I didn’t want more suffering. Even though I’d never seen death or pain on the same scale as Kuro or Alverd, I was appalled by it all the same. My people had so much blood on their hands, and as their future ruler that blame fell squarely on my shoulders. Even if I offered the Witch-Queen peace, I’d be bargaining for the moon with only a handful of dust to trade. But still, I had to try.

My half-sister Eliza would find some way to claim the throne, of this I was certain, and when she did, the people would never rally behind her, not after she oppressed them. My sister knew only the path of the soldier, and would likely declare martial law. The people would chafe under her short leash, and eventually they would demand her abdication. So if I were to return to dethrone her, they would support me wholeheartedly. To do that, I would need an army, I thought. If I can appeal to the Witch-Queen of Algrustos, I could reclaim my home. It was asking a great deal, but it was the only plan I had.

“Alright, you win. We’ll go to Algrustos. Maybe we can appeal to the Witch-Queen. The sooner we get moving, the better.” I slipped the dragon egg back into my pouch, and laid down on my cloth sleeping cloak, slathering the rest of the paste on my leg. The stars overhead were brighter than I had ever seen them, as if they were telling me to remain hopeful.

Alverd leaned back, his smile still on his face. “I had a feeling you would decide this. I hear that she is just and wise, unlike her predecessors, and if nothing else, we are guaranteed a fair hearing. I’m sure she desires peace and cooperation as much as you, Princess. We’ll have plenty to worry about in the future. For now, we should enjoy what peace we have.”

With that, Alverd dug the toe of his armored boot into Kuro’s back. The mage muttered something about black gartered stockings before waking up.

“Gaahhh. Alverd, if you want to wake me up, just shake me or something.” With that, Kuro grabbed his wooden staff and shambled off to take his turn as the night watch.

Alverd, fully armored still, laid down and gazed up at the endless sky. Within seconds, his eyes closed and his breathing slowed, and he slipped into blissful slumber. I took a moment to glance at Kuro, now sitting on a nearby log with that same surly look on his face. “What are you looking at, huh? There something on my face?” He growled at me. I stuck my tongue out at him. Yeah. I definitely liked Alverd more than this moron.

Kuro grimaced at me. “You better get your rest, Your Highness.” He made a sound under his breath that sounded an awful lot like a snort. “Come a few hours, it’ll be your turn to stand watch. Princess or no, everyone pulls their weight out here.” He pulled his staff close to his chest. “What were you and Alverd talking about? He was making an awfully smug expression before he went to sleep.”

I glared at him. “Nothing you need to worry about, spellslinger. You worry about the watch.”

Kuro snorted again. “Fine, fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll just ask Alverd about it in the morning. Have a nice rest, Your Highness.” He had that snooty tone when he said it. And yet, even though it irritated me, I found it oddly refreshing. Kuro wasn’t the kind of person who hid what he was thinking. I found it oddly refreshing. He was more honest with me than even Alverd was.

Not that I’d ever give him the satisfaction of knowing that, of course.

Exhausted, I settled back and looked up at the sky. Never before had I ever noticed how beautiful the stars were. I had taken this view for granted. Only now, when I was about to lose it all, did I fully appreciate it. So I laid there and took in the view of the night sky.

I still had hope. For now, it was all I had.