Herbert went back to the castle and made his way back into the keep. Making his way into what was once the keeps’ kitchen. Once several servants had worked and labored in this room; now it stood as a room for the mouse, though being a mouse, he did not need much room. In the corner closest to the old furnace.

“This old room may finally have people in it one day.”

A small mouse-like smile broke through his furry face. Gathering what little mouse things he needed he set up a small kit out of an old pouch he had taken from one the dead lords, and used it for his own uses, in this case it would serve as his travel pack. After taking the rest of the afternoon to gather the rest of his things. The sun was going to set soon, and Herbert decided to head out the next morning. That night a large storm hit the castle and blew old boards off the hinges and broke others apart. But the storm ended as all others have, and the morning promised to be a wet one, the journey would be hard going, with the promise of better days ahead. As the evening clouds of rain and mist parted as the sun rose and made way for the dawn that was when Herbert awoke from his sleep. His master was quiet as ever, of course he had not eaten since his mind alteration, he had not needed to, something that happened that day had stopped his body and hung him in a state of undeath. He neither aged, nor did he starve; he just kept on living. Herbert, however, was not so, and ate a small morning meal, before getting ready to start his journey.

Before he left, he visited his master, even after all these years he still loved his master. “Don’t worry master,” he said in his mouse-like voice.

“One day I’ll return, and I'll save you I promise.”

The only response he received was a wild response from his master, who thought that one of his lords had spoken to him, something about sending troops to the eastern border.

“Don’t give up, master, I’ll return, you’ll see.”

He left not long after and soon he was making his way out of the city, and into the wild Fields of Panadore. The day for the mouse was uneventful and he always tried getting to as high of a place as possible to get an idea as to where he was. Though he was only a mouse he was highly intelligent and had studied the map of his masters' kingdoms many times. He knew the lands very well, and even when he did not have the gift of speech, he would tell himself strategies and war plans that the lords his master listened to would never hear and would never have thought of. He did not think he was better than those his master took to console but he thought that even the opinions of his should be heard by all. As he climbed the cliff he was on, the clouds came closer as thought he could touch the sky. After reaching a shelf on the cliff face, he rested and looked out onto the landscape in front of him. He saw more than he had ever seen before. This was what his master had ruled over this large expanse of land that seemed to go from horizon to horizon. Looking up Herbert could see that the sun was setting over the distant hills. Herbert looked around, though he had been following the road he must have traveled further than he thought. The mouse decided to try his best to find a small nook and sleep for the night. Soon thereafter he found it at the base of an oak tree set a few feet into the tree line. Curling up into a ball he shifted to and from and finally found his comfort spot. The mouse soon drifted off into sleep, as the moon rose high into the sky.

Later that night it was Herbert's innate senses that awoke him from his slumber. He dashed from his sleeping spot just in time as he heard the hiss of a serpent nearby and it banged into his sleeping hole. ‘Snakes,’ the mouse thought as he pulled out his impromptu blade and gave it a small flourish. ‘I hate snakes.’ Now Herbert never had to deal with them at the palace but whenever he traveled outside of the city, he always made sure to be mindful of them. Herbert cursed; he had been so focused on his quest he had forgotten one of his basic reminders. The snake curled itself out of the nook and once again faced the mouse. It opens its mouth, its large, curled fangs facing the house mouse. Herbert braced himself and readied for the incoming strike, the serpent came with its mighty lunge with the mouse just narrowly escaping its pounce. The serpent, having expected the mouse to pull a trick, whirled around but not before Herbert swung widely at his opponent striking the snake on its scaly hide. Blood shot out from the wound and sprayed across the two opponents. Herbert knew he had to think of something quick, or he would lose the fight. Snakes have more energy, and body mass to rely on than the poor house mouse. Herbert looked to the tree while the snake was taking its own time, careful not to undertake the mouse that bit back. Herbert saw an opportunity, there was a dead branch that had fallen and mingled with another ten feet up, it was pointy and might do the trick. First, he had to break the other branches that held it in place. So, the mouse jumped and just in time as the serpent had lunged at him just as he clung onto its lowest branches, luckily for the mouse this knocked one of the smaller twig-like branches off and lightly hit the snake making shuffles backwards right to where Herbert wanted him. Herbert got the place he intended just above the branch and began to jump up and down.

“This is for waking me up, you foul creature.”

At his final word, the twig that was really holding the branch came down, and so did it fall, with a thud, and large hiss. Herbert saw his opponent slither off leaving a trail of blood behind it. Herbert firmly nodded and climbed back down the tree. The mouse was smiling, and a ray of light hit him. It had been closer to morning than he had originally thought. Herbert struck his blade into the ground at the base of the tree and rubbed off his hands in triumph and smugness. Who would blame the mouse? There were very few stories of little mice doing brave feats as such as he had done. The mouse walked to the edge of the cliff where the road took a sudden turn and went downward into a small valley. There in the far middle of a field he saw small clouds of smoke rising in the open plain. There seemed to be a town, if his memory was correct this was the town of Buran, a larger city about twenty miles east of the capital.

“That should be my first stop, hopefully I can end this quest sooner than later.”

Herbert looked at himself and decided that he had earned some rest. Thinking more carefully about his resting spot he slept for a small number of hours. Herbert awoke with no snakes to interpret him this time. After he rose and stretched out, he went back down the road and made his way towards Buran. The sun was already lowering into the midday sky by the time he got into the city.

It was alive with activity, and many people were still up and about. Many were common peasants, and farmers. They were buying their supplies for the day or getting new tools in readiness for the harvest season. Herbert was going to speak, but he had the notion that he should not talk to the people, not until he found the one who would be the new king. As this thought came to mind, he remembered that he had not even been told who to look for. Istan did not tell him who to look for. Herbert immediately ran into a nearby alleyway, he had been hovering close to anyway, but this was something entirely different. His heart was racing at what felt like the speed of charging horses. His breath was short, and his mind raced. Why had not Istan told him who it was. Finding a person who he knew the name of was easier than finding someone he had no name for at all.

“Istan, you never gave me a sign, now I'm out in the far world and I could really use a sign now.” As though Istan or even the heavens above had heard his plea a small voice called out to him. It seemed to have belonged to a young boy, he guessed in his middle youthful years.

“Hello, what's a poor little mouse like you doing here?”

Herbert turned and saw that the young man was dressed in a gray tunic, and dark pants. He wore a large hat that attempted to cover up the large amount of brown hair that seemed a mess. His face had some freckles, and his eyes were a light blue. The boy was reaching out as though to grab him, or some form of introduction. Herbert cautiously approached, knowing that if there was any trouble he would dash away as soon as possible.

“Hello, their little guy, you look worn out, why don't you come home with me?”

Herbert was going to speak, but he did not want to talk to the boy, and especially not in public. He nodded, and the boy scooped him into a pocket in his tunic.

“It is nice to have a friend, my name is Kregar, son of Dregar. Do you have a name, little guy?” The mouse nodded, or what he would think a nod was. The boy seemed to understand.

“Oh well you probably have a master, don't you?”

The mouse nodded again, the boy looked sad, but tried his best to hide it.

“Is he close by?”

The mouse shook his head, “Oh he’s far away?”

The mouse nodded and tried indicating a general direction.

“That way but the only thing that way is the old castle. I have never seen it, but they say our king lives there. Is your master from the old castle?”

Herbert nodded, the boy’s expression turned from a frown, to what could only be described as wonderment.

“Who are you little one? You know you are far from home, why don't I look after you? Do not worry, you will be safe. My parents own a farm outside of town. I will take you there.”

Herbert nodded, ‘Finally,’ he thought some form of civilization was better than staying out in the wilderness, which he had not been looking forward to. It was only a matter of a quarter sundial when they arrived at the boys' farm. It was a decent sized estate, which held the house, the stables, and a few small sheds which held the tools and gear needed from such tasks. Behind all this was a vast field that went on for some distance. Whoever this Kregar, son of Dregar was, his family was very well off for themselves. The house was very modest, and held only what room those needed, farmers were simple folk. Entering the house, he immediately came upon the pair was the smell of some stew cooking in another room.

“Mother, father I’m home,” called the boy out into the house.

A head suddenly came out from behind a wall that divided the entrance and sitting room from the kitchen. It was an older woman, who seemed very cheerful, whose hair matched Kregars’ own.

“Oh Kregar, how did the shopping go? Did you get a good deal from that crook Negan?”

Kregar walked into the kitchen and put down the sack he was holding, “It wasn't the worst deal he gave us, but I swear his prices go up every time.”

Kregars’ mother grabbed the items in the bag which consisted of two loaves of bread, and lots of vegetables, as well as a covered meat case.

“Well, he may be a crook, but he is not the only one, stories are going around that this drought will not be ending soon. That rain last night was good for the crops, but it will not be enough.” Herbert could see tears forming at the edges of her eyes.

“Do not worry about it, get changed, and clean yourself up, supper will be ready soon and your father will be back out from the fields soon. Go on.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Kregar went into a room that had a bed, and many chests and cabinets in it.

“This is my room, little one, you can wait here until I get back. I am going to get cleaned up.” Kregar set Herbert down on the bed, which was extremely comfortable for the mouse. He watched as the boy gathered a few articles of clothing and made his way down the hallway and into a room, where the sounds of a water pump could be heard.

“So that's the washroom,” Herbert said aloud.

He made his way over to the windowsill which was a nice small window. Out of it he could see the barn and the fields beyond. He saw a large man, in similar clothes as his son, enter the building with a cart hauled by a mule behind him. He was giving snacks and petting it. It must have been an exhausting day at work for the farmer.

As he was looking out the window a memory he had long since forgotten came back to him, it was when he was a young mouse, and his master, then a prince had found him abandoned in the alleyways near the castle.

“Hello their little guy? What are you doing out here? Here, why do not I take you home with me.” The memory left him just as soon as it had come.

“That was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

Herbert smiled, and a single small mouse tear made his way down his long nose.

“My, well that’s new.”

Herbert watched the older farmer pack away his things and make his way towards the dwelling. As he did, he heard the footsteps of Kregar coming back from his wash. Entering the room, the young man only had his trousers on, Herbert could see that the life of a farmer had muscled the young man up. Quickly putting on a light blue tunic, he smiled and made his way over to his bed, where he looked up at the ceiling.

“You know I’m happy I found you, it’s nice to have someone around that isn't my parents.” Hebert came over to the bed and watched the young man inquisitively. Herbert knew the feeling only all too well from his own master, who had also grown up as a single child and heir to the throne that he took not because he wanted to, but because it was his duty. That is why he found such companionship in Herbert and the prince; they were two halves of a whole.

“Kregar, come get your food dear.”

His mother had called from down in the dining area.

“I’m on the way,” he turned to his mouse friend.

“Do not worry, I will save you a bit. See you later.”

Once again, he left Herbert alone in his room. Herbert did not want to stay in the room, he wanted to explore. Making his way out of the room, he found himself in a long hallway that divided the house. He made his way towards what he had earlier identified as the washroom. Entering the room, he saw a large area where one would wash oneself, and another was towels and aprons. The room was lit with many candles, most of them were for light, and others smelled. Herbert exited the room and made his way into what was of course another bedroom. This one was a bit larger than the Kregars, and the bed was also larger. There was nothing fancy about it, but Herbert was still impressed by its size. Looking around it was identical in layout to Kregars’ room. He left the room, and just by looking around this area of the house was the least used by the family. Which was not entirely new to the mouse; he had noticed that many mortals were away from their bed chambers while the sun was out, but when it sank it was back into the beds. He found it curious, and hilarious in a sort of way. Making his way towards the dining and kitchen areas he heard the older man talking to his son.

“Kregar what did you do today, I was hoping to have you in the fields today.”

Kregar swallowed a bite of food, before he responded, “Mother asked me to go shopping for her, as she said that I worked really hard yesterday, and earned a break.”

Kregar's father laughed and clapped his son on the back in one of those father son ways.

“That you did, you threw over a dozen bales of wheat over your head and onto the pile before I could get you to stop.” There was a pause as more of the meal was eaten.

“The time before that you insisted on cutting the weeds in the patch in the west field, it took you three hours, but by Mentros you did it. You did earn a break son, but I want you up good and early tomorrow for the gathering in the south fields. Come on now and eat.”

The family was in silence as the sounds of food and utensils made their way to Herberts’ ears. Rounding the corner, little did he know but from the way he had come the father was facing him, and it was at that time he looked up and saw Herbert slowly approaching.

“A mouse! Kreger, hand me the knife.” The father ran towards Herbert, a knife from the table in hand. The middle-aged farmer began to chase Herbert who he had seen dashing away. The chase began in the kitchen, and Herbert made his way into Kregars’ room. Kregar in turn began shouting to his father trying to get his attention.

“Father, don’t hurt him, I found him!”

In turn Dregar turned to his son who had followed him while in the chase.

“What do you mean you found him? Do you know that more of them will show up, treat one rodent kind, and more will come? We must kill it now.”

Kregar looked sad, and before Dregar could open the door a voice which was small and slightly squeaky.

“Pardon sir, but I would not rather die tonight.”

Kregar, and Dreger stopped talking, so they turned to the door. Kregar opened it and saw the mouse he had found in the streets, this time he had dressed in what could only be described as a mouse version of a tunic. The mouse was standing in the middle of the room looking at the two in the doorway.

“Now if you’ll allow me, I’ll explain myself.”

Herbert said, now the elder man may have screamed or charged the mystical mouse, but something compelled him not to that night. Whether it was his strong will, or some sort of unseen force, Herbert never knew. Instead, the man lowered his knife, and went away words mumbled under his breath.

“This world is stranger than I thought.”

Herbert joined Kregar in the middle of the room who picked up the mouse in the palm of his hand.

“You can talk,” said the young farmer.

Herbert nodded, “Yes, though this was a gift I was given only a day ago, and with it I can change the fate of our people.”

Kregar frowned, as he guided him out of the room and into the sitting room where his mother and father sat. They were just discussing what had happened when the pair approached.

“I apologize. I did not expect that we would meet like this.”

Kregars mother almost fainted, as his father looked carefully at Herbert.

“So, what in all the fates are you?”

Kregar set Herbert down on a table in the sitting room and he looked carefully at all three of his hosts.

“My name is Herbert the Mouse, and I am a pet mouse to our King. Long ago he was twisted and mangled by the elf Meradoth. For years I have watched him live in the husk of life he has left. I have been given the ways of voice and have been awakened with one task to fulfill. To find a new king and save our people.”

Dregar looked at the mouse and he faced a mixture of disbelief and curiosity.

“So, you didn’t always talk?”

Said Dregars' wife; whose name Herbert never found out.

Herbert smiled at the wife.

“No, my lady I did not, this gift was given to me just at midday yesterday.”

The family looked at the mouse and gave strange looks.

“So did your gift giver tell you who this new king would be?”

Herbert frowned, “I am afraid not, but I have taken my own intuition on the matter and if that is the case, I am to find someone who treated me like my own master once did.”

The farmer looked at his wife, and then back to the mouse.

“Now I do not know who your master was like, or what he is like, so I cannot help you. We cannot help you.”

The mouse shook his head, “You can think my lord, I was thinking of this when I was alone in your sons’ room. My master found me on the streets and took me in. and treated me nicely, and with compassion were as many in the castle would have seen me killed. After years he and I became inseparable. We grew a bond, and when your son found me in the market alleyway today, I saw the same type of spark in him.”

The farmer, though not a fully learned person, was able to understand what the mouse was saying, “Are you saying that you think my son,” he pointed at his son to make his point clear.

“You think he is worthy to be a king, not just any king but our king?”

Herbert looked over at Kregar and smiled at the young man, who returned the gesture.

“Yes, my lord farmer, I do. If a man can look at a mouse like me with compassion and trust. Imagine what he would do for his people. I think Kregar has earned my respect, and if that is all it takes to be king then he has what it takes.”

Dregar laughed, and sat down; his laughter would die down, as he looked between the mouse and his son.

“You think that because my son took you in, that makes him a king? Half the boys in the kingdom would do the same thing, what makes my son any different from all those others?” Herbert looked at the man, and to his wife.

“You are right, many his age might do the same, but when your son found me in the alleyways today, I saw something in him, care, and humanity. Something I have not seen in over twenty years. He is young, curious, his youthful behavior calls out. Call it what you will sir. I see a young man who can grow up and be a great one. I was charged to find a new king like my master of old, and in your son, I have found just that. What do you say?”

He was not looking at Dregar, but his wife.

“My son is young, foolish, and simple of mind. But he is also kind, and willing. He looks after those others would not, he cares where others do not. My son is many things, and if he thinks he is a worthy young mouse lord, he could be your king. The voice she spoke in was soft and tender. “Tell me my mouse guest,” began Dregar; who had a rough and bitter tone about him.

“Even if you think he is right to be, what about this person who awakened you? What would they say? And what about us? I plan to give this land to my son before I die, what would you have us do?”

The mouse climbed up and onto the house's fireplace. He looked over his three hosts carefully.

“I shall give you a fortnight. I will have all of you decide, I shall live in the barn, and shall not interrupt your daily affairs. By the end of such time. I will require an answer, and I can see more of your son and who he is as a person.”

The family looked at one another and Dregar nodded, rising slowly from his chair.

“Alright our mouse friend you have yourself a deal. We shall meet again in one fortnight. Until then, I am very tired, and this night has been filled with many strange tales. I shall retire, goodnight.”

The rest of the family joined him slowly afterwards, until it was just Herbert and Kregar. “Do you really think I can be a king?”

Herbert was on his outside to the barn and had made it to the dwelling's doorway before he answered.

“I believe so, but it is not my decision, it is yours. What do you want young Kregar, what is the life you want?”

Herbert went outside before Kregar could respond, and Kregar went to bed that night with his mind a whirlwind. Herbert found a small pile of hay, made a small nook, and went to sleep, he knew he was right, he just had to show Kregar he was right.

That night a white figure came down and approached the farmhouse in the dark. The figure came to the door and made it into the house. Entering the room of Kregar, the figure waved his hands over the young man and whispered into his ear.

“You are worthy to go to the town square tomorrow, at midday, and all will see why you will be king.”

The figure vanished out of the room as Kregar stirred in his sleep and was seen outside the barn. “Don’t worry my old friend, you will see you have made the right choice, all of your kingdom will see why the farm boy will be king.”

The figure vanished as the moon light shone over it, and was not seen again that night, or any other night since.