“Beast! No!” Ava yelled as the hyperactive Saber cat sped across a wheat field and trampled the crop in his wake. Beast pounced at something on the ground and buried his head in the dirt, nuzzling further into it and grunting as he sent heaps of dirt flying in every direction with massive paws.

He emerged shortly after with a giant Burrow Mole dangling between his jaws and loped proudly back to Ava, oblivious to the damage he had caused. Ava could only shake her head in dismay, staring at the devastation he had left behind.

The farmer Caeden had been talking to, watched the scene unfold with raised eyebrows. His eyes moved from Ava to Beast, back to Ava and then to Caeden. He was waiting for the prince’s prompt to decide how to react.

“I do apologise, Mister Gerold, you will be compensated for the damage,” Caeden offered.

“No need for that, Your Grace. I’m only glad that mole won’t be ruining more of my crop. Been struggling to catch that accursed creature for two Reaping Seasons now,” the red-faced farmer replied.

“I am relieved, how is the latest batch of crop looking thus far?”

“Very well. Might be the best one yet if the Wyvern continues to play nicely. It’s been in a mood most foul, spewing ash every which where until a few weeks ago. Despite the rumours of the wights and the dark plague still making the rounds, it has been mostly quiet. Least ‘til the knights and guild started milling around the borders of the Fields with renewed purpose. Yet, the Guild confirms that we aren’t in any immediate danger. What’s that mean, immediate danger? That there is danger, but we will only be in it later? We should be leaving the Wyvern’s territory alone. Nothing to be gained from messing around with a Great Spirit when it’s moody.”

Caeden glanced at Ava. She seemed frozen in place by the man’s words before turning to the Red Mountain when he caught her eye. They were close enough to the border to see the white fields and the dormant volcano colour the distant horizon.

“You are an astute man, Mister Gerold. It is good to see you and your family prospering,” Caeden observed. He excused himself before the farmer became engrossed in another of his musings on the Wyvern’s moods and ushered his envoy forward.

He had chosen to travel on foot to Castle Cadence, Daaria’s Capital, hoping to familiarize Ava with his home. If he was honest with himself, his intentions were to foster a bond between her and his kingdom, a bond strong enough to give her cause to fight for it. Vengeance would work for his plans in the short-term, but she needed a less corrosive motivator if the Empire were to survive whatever plans The Shadow King or the Greater Spirits had for it.

She had marvelled at everything he had pointed out on their journey, listened intently to every piece of information he had told her, and questioned him about everything she wanted to know. In the end, he was the one who began to see his Empire anew. The sunflowers seemed more vibrant, the wheat more golden and the air smelled fresher. He was not one to entertain such fancies before but there was wonder to be found in seeing the world through her eyes. Especially after the weeks of mental torment and unbearable pain he had had to endure.

He could still not recall whether he was lucid when he saw Ava as a red-eyed demonkin. The memory seemed to fade in clarity like a half-forgotten dream upon waking. In it, he had said some callous things to get the demonkin to leave him alone and he felt the need to apologise, but Ava had behaved like nothing untoward had happened between them. So, he left it alone, not seeing the need to dredge up unnecessary animosity between them if the events had only happened in his mind.

“Your people love you,” Ava murmured after they had travelled a short distance alongside the wagon he had hired.

Her sudden declaration took him aback. “As they would had I been any prince of theirs, I suppose.”

“No, not any prince. Their opinion of your brother is not very favourable.”

Caeden turned to her with a raised brow.

“You do not see. It is probably one of the perks of walking behind you. You hear things from people who would not dare say it to your face. Your people love you. They want you to be their king. And I can see why, you are a man for the people. You listen when they talk and speak to them with respect. I understand why Sir Morley is so fiercely protective of you.”

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“Miss Ava do not repeat this to anyone,” Caeden bit out.

“Of course not, why are you annoyed? I thought you would have liked to hear what your people think of you.”

“I am not annoyed. My brother is – difficult. More so his mother.”

“Hence, his unfavourable reputation. You think your people may suffer because of their allegiance to you?”

“Enough Miss Ava. Never mention this conversation again. To me or anyone else, do you understand?”

She squared her jaw stubbornly but let it slide and turned to watch Beast distract himself with everything that moved. She hopped to sit on the wagon edge and grabbed a fan from the interior to cool herself from the midday heat.

He trailed behind her and absent-mindedly scratched his arm, his thoughts elsewhere.

“Do not scratch!” Ava admonished as she rested her head against the wagon and fanned herself furiously.

He chuckled self-consciously. The affected area felt tender the moment he stopped. His arm had healed, for the most part, the grafts taking to his burned skin without issue. Oswin had complimented Ava on the work and told her that she had the potential to make a fine Adept one day. Caeden agreed, his arm looked as good as new. Only the telltale patchwork scars between the grafts puckered out to mar the otherwise smooth appearance. Oswin had assured him the these would fade gradually over time. But the gods help him with the infernal itching. It was hard to ignore when he was conscious of it and impossible when he was not.

Caeden hopped on the edge beside her, a frown creasing his brows. Something Sir Gerold had said still bothered him. What were knights and mages doing at the borders of the Ashen Fields? And why were Oswin, Morley and I not informed of any changes in their plan?

Ava moaned beside him, reaching out to something unseen and falling over. He steadied her before she fell from the wagon. Alarmed by the heat he felt permeating from her back.

“Prince Caeden, something is wrong,” she murmured listlessly.

A blue glimmer caught his eye in the distance. A large barrier spanning the entire horizon lifted skywards, surrounding the Ashen Fields and doming over the Red Mountain.

“What in Holden’s name are they doing? Ser Morley!” Caeden jumped from the halted wagon and turned Ava to lie across the edge.

Her breathing was erratic and her eyes fluttered closed. Sweat drenched her body. Beast was at her side, pushing past him to lay next to her and emitted a long moan into her face.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Ser Morley cantered past the wagon on horseback.

“Ride to the Guild at the border and order them to remove that barrier!” Caeden yelled.

The earth vibrated beneath his feet and Morley’s horse reared up. He grabbed the reigns to assist Morley with the panicked creature. It neighed and bucked, and Ser Morley slid off before it threw him. He landed on his feet next to Caeden before the horse wretched its reigns from their hands and bolted away. The ground rumbled dangerously, and he heard a loud crack before he and Morley were thrown from their feet. An explosion ruptured through the air, so loud Caeden had to block his ears.

Bright orange lava poured from the Wyvern’s Jaw, flowing down the Red Mountain. Black smoke bellowed thick and heavy into the air. A pair of fiery wings cut through it, followed by a snaking, flaming head. The Wyvern was so large it took up the entire circumference of the volcano’s vent. It flew up, a great streak of flame across the sky and breathed a long stream of violet fire. The barrier flared and shattered, the fragments falling and dissipating. It crowed at something in the distance.

Ava stumbled into view, struggling to walk along the shaky ground. Beast trailed quickly after her, pouncing on her back with a growl and sitting on her collapsed form. He looked at Caeden with what seemed like a plea for help.

Caeden shuffled along to them and dragged Ava out from under Beast. He could feel the heat radiating from her body before he touched her arm. The skin on her face and neck was patchy and red. He searched the area for the fan she was using earlier and spotted the upturned wagon. Oswin and his men were trying to untie the horses from it. The earth behind him had splintered in two, a winding crack separating them. The land he was standing on had risen higher than the other side.

Farmhouses had collapsed on themselves, and his people cried out for help. Was this the end of us?

“I – need to go to it,” Ava muttered, pushing against his chest weakly.

Would they make it in time? Would she make it there alive? He looked around for a solution, his eyes landing on a farm dam. He pulled her into his arms. Her limp weight pressed painfully onto his injured arm, but he gritted through it and ran haphazardly to the edge, sliding down into the sloshing water.

Her eyes widened in shock as the cold water swallowed them. He could see it now, contrasting with the darker water surrounding them. A sliver of a flame turned the colour of her eyes molten.

Caeden pushed them up to the jostling surface and steadied her head with a hand to her jaw.

“What are you doing? You will destroy us all!” he shouted at the spirit behind her eyes. Could it hear? Would it listen?

Ava's hand snaked out to choke him and he croaked when it closed around his throat. Caeden twisted her wrist to prevent her from squeezing any tighter.

“Long have I stayed upon this mountain, blessed your lands with fertility and kept you humans safe. And this is how I am repaid! With treachery! I will not be bound!”

“We – I will fix this! Just give me time,” Caeden pleaded.

“Bring me the Keeper or I shall cleanse the cursed from this land in flame! There are no other options left to you!”