Arlena heaved a sigh. Since that night they visited the keep, Gavon warned her to keep a low profile and avoid wandering near the hideout. He wouldn’t even let her go down there, as if it would kill him to show her what the inside of the guild looked like!

Instead, he kept droning on about a stupid contest and how apprentices were not allowed into Mahgrad until it was over. It wasn’t like she was going to do something down there! What did he take her for? She wasn’t some kind of barbaric assassin or something!

Liquid splattered on the walls and the wooden floorboards as Arlena groaned and dropped her spoon into the bowl filled with some nasty liquid. She didn’t feel like eating anymore. She was bored to death and totally wound up.

The clumpy stew tasted like grass, and it looked like they served her the leftovers of whatever they ate in the servants’ hall! What was she supposed to do here, even? Die out of boredom!? Ms Carla, the maid who brought her the stew, was the only one she had talked to in, well, forever, and it was Gavon who sent the young woman to spy on her in his stead.

She stood up like greased lightning and focused on the tattered door. No, she was sick and tired of obeying orders! Whether or not he wanted it, she was getting out of this darn chamber, and so she did!

It was a few minutes past the witching hour when she crept out. Naturally, and as she had expected, there were still servants and knights roaming about in the dead of night, so she moseyed along the fortress’ inner curtain walls to keep out of sight.

The air was damp. She inhaled the coolness like poor Enis would and felt revitalised almost instantly! The peeled wallpaper back in the shabby room had moved at some point, and she was certain that she would’ve lost it should she spend another night behind four enclosed walls.

She was as free as a featherless bird! She twirled around herself and danced to the cadence of the subtle breeze against her bare skin. Freedom, she thought, beaming, freedom at last!

Even now, she couldn’t believe that she was here, in Belzcakir, and still alive and well.

She eluded the gallows for bewitching Nash and somehow made it to Gartâr, the Kingdom of Men. But this wasn’t part of their plan. Her mum told her to join their persecuted kinsmen on the narrow mountain ridges, but now she was here – the last place on Yiraál she should be.

The moment her cover was blown, she was as good as dead. But she wasn’t chary or on the edge. This was the will of the Queen, and she was intent on sticking to the destiny given to her at the time of her miraculous birth.

She was the clever raven that fed on human flesh, and her sole goal was to destroy this kingdom and restore Jewarta to its former glory.

Half an hour into her escapade, she found herself close to the hidden entrance to Mahgrad. She broke off, and her smile faded. This place marked the beginning of the end for her forefathers who trusted the humans, who stabbed them in the back.

If only they had seen through their apprentices and hindered them from begetting magic, then maybe her dad and her brother wouldn’t have bitten the dust so untimely. Her entire life could’ve changed for the better if only… if only Gartâr didn’t exist, if only Sirahael, Gavon, and all the wicked humans did not exist!

A bitter smirk curled up on her lips as she thought of the Crown Prince. What was he even doing right now? She hadn’t heard from him since the day he left her with Gavon. The keep’s metal door flung open just as these thoughts crossed her mind.

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She squinted to see who was leaving the guild at such an odd hour. Upon seeing his face, she blinked in surprise. Arlena should have thought of something else, for none other than the Crown Prince emerged from beyond the metal door!

She recoiled and clutched to the walls, afraid that he would notice her despite the pitch-black darkness. But Sirahael did not. She watched as he sprinted across the bailey and headed straight for the gatehouse.

Her expression grew just as dark as his. She scowled. He was soaked in sweat! Something about his rushed manner told her that something was in the offing, and whatever it was, it had scared Sirahael witless.

She morphed into a raven and clung to him as he frantically yelled at the guards to raise the portcullis and release him. The guards exchanged perplexed looks. What was going on? Sirahael was beside himself. Not even when the fahltyrs chased him did he lose his cool like this.

The guards talked amongst themselves before doing as the Crown Prince commanded. It was clear as day that they were hesitant and more concerned about the alarmed look on the prince’s hardened face than the order itself.

She followed him past the gatehouse. A servant passed the prince’s ebony horse over outside the gate, and he rode down the winding towpath and into the wetlands at once.

It was a stupid idea. She was aware of that, but she was bored to death, and now it looked like something exciting had come up, so she followed him. Something was going on. She could feel the looming peril in the marrow of her bones.

There was more to him, she thought, there was more to Sirahael than he let her on. He wasn’t just some prince looking for adventure; no, that wouldn’t explain the fact that he kept quiet about his near-death experience in Lordôm.

He was hiding something. But what? What business had a wizard with the Mother of Beasts, and not just any wizard, but the future king at that?

And where was he heading towards right now, right at this very moment and at this peculiar hour where everything else had surrendered to the sweetness of sleep? As the hours passed and their destination came into view from the heavens, the questions whirling in her bleak mind doubled.

Lordôm!? The piping hot vapour from the moat rose to the nocturnal and menacing sky shrouded in thick fog. She wheezed. Sirahael didn’t change his course. He was indeed heading to the Land of the Beasts!

She blinked. Why would he go back to Lordôm suddenly? He had narrowly avoided getting slain the last time and somehow made it out of there alive, so why did he have to go there, of all places, again?

Arlena wished she was seeing things, but she wasn’t. She wasn’t just assuming things, either. She glanced down at the prince as if he were mad; maybe he was after all. It was suicide! Magic didn’t work beyond the Salkire!

Her worries reached another height as a strange din came through the fog. Drums…? Drums as in… Her eyes became wider. She cawed and whisked her wings to catch up with the prince and stop him. What she didn’t expect was to hear her own name reverberate through the barren land as they both came to an abrupt stop right in front of the notorious bridge.

“I know you’re there, Artam. Listen carefully and do as I tell you. Something’s not right; you can hear it. Don’t follow me, there are things you don’t know. If I don’t return before sunrise, you must return to Belzcakir and say the beasts have broken the seal.”

She watched in horror as he merged with the darkness and disappeared into the fog before she could even respond. She wanted to fly after him and stop him from doing something reckless, but he told her to stay put and—She wheezed.

The drums grew louder! It wasn’t his words that rooted her in place, it was the drums – those darned drums! It was a warning. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead.

The- the fahltyrs were coming! It was the beat of a feast, it was the bellow of a bloody massacre!

She frowned. Humans…? But how? It was impossible! It was—was the seal really broken? What in the world were humans doing there, in the darkness, to begin with? Nothing made sense! The seal…? Sirahael’s words rang in her ears.

The seal, it—she shifted her gaze just as the fog cleared and the Hezakhal Dungeon emerged from the darkness in all of its ominous glory. Her eyes wandered to the heavens, and she saw it. She saw it. She felt her, she felt her with every fibre of her body.

A pang of pain hit her like a bolt out of nowhere and pierced right through her like a sharp dagger. The dragon had awakened! Their mother and creator, the Queen of Hezakhal, had broken free from her chains!

She collapsed onto the barren ground. Her strength perished, as did her kindred spirit.

This was a bad omen.