The king nodded weakly as two guards came to support him.

“It has been a long time since you demonstrated that power on me, my friend,” Meric said. “And I am sorry to have forced you to do it.” He breathed quickly, like he had just run a mile. “And I am sorry that you will not stay.” The king sighed. “You may go, brother. I won’t try and stop you again. But I have to say one more time. Please. Don’t throw away so many lives like this. If anything, your stopping my wars should have taught you that violence leads to nothing but suffering.”

“Thank you, brother,” Uldar said as he sheathed his daggers. “I am sorry.” Uldar turned and got back on his horse. As he did, the men of Severdom parted to let the Prophets through.

King Meric couldn’t bear to watch as his friends passed. As Uldar crossed out of the city, the king shouted to him, “Severdom will never forget your sacrifice, Uldar. Nor what the Sevens Prophets have done for us! May peace go with you!”

Uldar smiled and felt sorry. He would never see the king or that city again. He didn’t look back.

“No, Bravham,” Uldar said, taking a deep breath of the fresh morning air as his column of Prophets exited Sever. Bravham edged her horse next to Uldar’s. “History will not prove us right. History will prove us wrong. But the message we will send to the people of the future, that is what makes this the right choice.”

Bravham nodded and smiled, saying, “A thought and a feeling. Golds and Whites mock us for dying for these seemingly simple things. But you’re right, Uldar. It’s worth the sacrifice.”

The journey wasn’t a hard one. Any trek through Severdom was never difficult. The people were all peaceful and crime was minimal. There was an equal lack of thieves as there was in Severdom’s warring past. Where in the past thieves and murderers were forced into the army that was destined to conquer the continent, now there were few who remained who knew the art of thievery, the people have gained so much from peace. And there were no creatures or monsters in the forests or coasts. This was not the Gale Forest.

“Look there,” Uldar said as they passed a caravan with covered wagons carrying tanks of dye. He pointed to a large rock formation over a slight hill off the road. “It’s Mecklar’s Cave.”

“I remember that place,” Bravham said, putting a hand over her eyes to shield them from the afternoon sun. “You were so excited when you found it.”

“It was a very important find. I know the Prophets have taught us about the cycle of nations and development and all, but to find evidence of a dead civilization,” Uldar said, and shuddered. “I still get goosebumps from it. Very interesting.”

“So interesting that you weren’t paying attention and slipped off that big metal thing on wheels. We had to get a Gold to heal your leg.”

“Yes, but if you recall I was taking notes the whole time.”

“A historian even when your leg is broken,” Bravham said, shaking her head.

“We never figured out what it was that ended that civilization. There were things in there that I still have no clue what they do. Like that glass ball hanging inside the room we opened up. You didn’t have to break it, you know.”

“Are you ever going to stuff that?”

“No,” Uldar said, and laughed. He barely got the chance to poke fun at Bravham and was feeling relaxed from doing it. “Did you ever read the book I wrote about it?”

“You’re the historian, not me, Uldar,” Bravham said. “Still, it would have been nice to have had a little more time, maybe find some more caves like that.”

Uldar nodded.

The somber crowd made its way through the kingdom by way of the newly completed roads, the vital link of commerce that the king proclaimed would make his kingdom prosper without need of war. After the easy ride traversing many miles, they came to another day’s end. It was their fourth night out of Sever and spirits hadn’t changed much. Everyone was in a good mood and looking forward to seeing Grundar for the first time. Uldar was not in a good mood, though.

“There should be good hunting here,” Bravham said, sitting down at a fire next to Uldar. “Maybe we’ll let a few fetch some deer.”

“We have plenty of supplies,” Uldar said, and sighed. “But if they want to hunt then let them.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“What’s wrong, Uldar? You seem worried, again.”

“Should I not be worried? I am leading over a hundred men and women whom I love to certain death.” Uldar rubbed his forehead.

“Well if their deaths are certain then there’s no need to worry about it then is there?” Bravham smiled.

Uldar chuckled. They were alone outside Uldar’s tent. No one noticed or even cared, though. Both had been married before.

“I guess you’re right,” Uldar said.

“The message, Uldar, don’t forget the message,” Bravham said, and took a stick from Uldar’s stack of firewood. She poked at the fire, stirring some coals.

“I know. But it still hurts.” Uldar looked at the stars as Bravham kicked up some sparks. “I’m beginning to think that we should turn back, that maybe I’m wrong. There’s so much more we could do with our lives, so many more we could help. I still have so many thoughts running through my head, about that lost civilization we talked about yesterday. Maybe the message is important, but maybe helping those that we can is more.”

“You’re having your doubts and that’s fine. But you and I both know that it’s not the point of what you’re doing that you’re worried about. It’s the lives of the people doing it,” Bravham said. She let her hair out. She had tied it up for easy riding, but wanted to relax. Usually, Shalemite women kept their hair short. Bravham liked people to not be able to place her heritage.

Uldar looked at her. He appreciated her beauty. He appreciated the beauty of her deadliness and devotion to what was right, and to peace. “I am sorry for making them do this. And you’re right. The king would never listen to me, and would suspect assassination. This is the only way.”

“And you’re right,” Bravham said. “I know, and they all do too. We all know exactly what we’re riding to. Certain death is just a part of being a Red Prophet.” Bravham chuckled. “And we know what we will die for.”

“I only wish the council would have listened. With the shielding of the Whites or the healing of the Golds we wouldn’t lose so many,” Uldar said. “And if I hadn’t disobeyed them…”

“Stuff it.” Bravham hit Uldar in the back. “You did right. You weren’t allowed back in Grundar but your son was in danger. And so were many other sons. They were stupid to say you couldn’t go.”

“And when I killed the man who took my eldest son, the same man who killed my wife for trying to stop him,” Uldar said, then sighed and shook his head. “They think this is a mission of revenge. I shouldn’t have killed that man.”

“They don’t trust you. But forcing children to fight for sport is evil. You stopped that,” Bravham said, and wrapped her hands around her knees, sitting close to Uldar. “If they think it was revenge then so be it, but we all know the truth. And we know the truth of what you’re doing now.”

Uldar nodded. “If the hunters find any boar, I’d like to have some bacon.” The two laughed a little and gazed at the stars. “I only wish the Sevensians were still here.”

Bravham nodded. Uldar looked through the stars trying to find their planet.

They crossed through the river port city of Wern. The governor there and all the people were very sad to see the Reds leaving. Many fond farewells were given, but Uldar politely refused all gifts. He wouldn’t need them.

A few days later they arrived at a village called Bulka. It was just large enough to accommodate all one hundred and eleven of the Prophets in rooms in various inns and homes. Uldar spent the rest of their money, tipping freely, allowing his brothers and sisters to feast for the last time. There were a few who wondered why so many Red Prophets would gather together at once. But they didn’t question what Prophets did. Prophets were all heroes in Severdom since they ended the wars.

It was a happy little stop. A few of the Prophets who were talented in music entertained the crowds and soon the people all joined in, inside and outside, taking their drinks onto the cobblestones.

Bravham was very talented at telling stories. The people pushed and crowded to hear tales of the brave Sevens Prophets from across the universe. All cheered heartily at the great victories achieved in the not-so-distant past. Uldar was happy and even sang a song or two he had learned in Grundar, though he didn’t say where it was from.

The next morning, as the Reds mounted their horses and prepared to leave, they all felt a lot better. There were many people out to say goodbye.

“Thank you for your hospitality, sir,” Uldar said to the fat innkeeper who bowed to his guests as they waited on their horses.

“Always a pleasure to serve the Prophets, master Uldar, sir,” the balding man said with a bow and a smile. “I hope you will return soon.”

“I would like that, friend. Especially to have more of your fine whiskey. I’ve never tasted the like.”

“Ah, it’s the method of distilling I use. A certain wood, only grows in these parts, and I’m selling it everywhere. Can’t keep up with the demand it’s so popular.”

“Then I hope you sell it all over, but not too much. That’s a very strong drink,” Uldar said, and remembered sadly cutting himself off after only a few glasses. “I’m afraid we won’t be coming back, though. We have business past the wall.”

“Oh no, sir,” the innkeeper said with a timid shake of the head. “Pardon me for saying, sir, but business in Grundar’s no place for any man. Bunch of savages they are. Not that I’m trying to question Prophets, sir, I know you have your reasons, but will you be staying there long?”

“No, we won’t be there long. Goodbye, friend,” Uldar said, and kicked his heels and his mare went off toward the forming column of Prophets.

Bravham waited at the front.

“I feel great. Can we attack now?” Bravham said with a laugh as she saw Uldar approach.

“Let’s just gallop straight there,” laughed another Prophet.

Uldar smiled and stopped.

“It’s another two days till we reach the wall and pass into Grundar. Then a final two days toward Steel City,” Uldar said with a smile. “And until some White teaches us how to fly, I think that’s what we’ll have to do.”

The Prophets laughed. But the laughter died quickly as Uldar saw a young man, about eighteen, gallop towards them. A man was chasing after him, shouting.

“Stop! Stop you fool I command it! Listen to me,” the tired man shouted. But the boy reached Uldar, reigning in his horse as the man ran behind.