Regal |Fantasy Ryden AU| DISCONTINUED

-17-

"All right, gentlemen,"  Gerard proclaimed, "let's get packed up and ready to move.  We're burning daylight."

The cloudy sky was just as dull and gray as ever as Gerard and Mikey zipped up their tattered bags, urging the quartet to quickly follow suit.  It was nearly impossible to tell if it was actually dawn, considering the thick wall of ashen clouds blocking the sun above, but according to the hunters, it was close enough.  Who were they to judge two experienced fighters?

Jon scoffed to himself as he exchanged a skeptical glance with Ryan.  "More like cloud light,"  he muttered, slinging his bag over his shoulder.  "It's been so long since I've seen the sun that I think I forgot what it looks like."

"Well, I would hope you don't know what the sun looks like,"  Spencer chimed in with an unnatural buoyancy to his tone.  He sure seemed chipper this gloomy morning.  "You're not meant to stare directly at it."

"No, really?  Darn, there go my afternoon plans."

The stark contrast between Spencer's liveliness and Jon's ill temper made Ryan smile to himself as he finished packing his own small bag.  It was clear who had slept well and who hadn't.  Either that, or the royal adviser was simply eager to get out of Dracden as soon as possible; Ryan couldn't say he blamed him for that.

A crow cawed from the top of a gangly tree as Brendon heaved a sigh, trying his best to loosen his tense shoulders.  He had slept decently compared to the night before, but it was nearly impossible to feel rested in the situation they were all in.  Still, as much as he regretted to admit, talking with Ryan had eased some of the nerves rattling inside his skull.  Something was different about that kid.  Nothing awful, of course, but being around him was nothing like being around Spencer or Jon.  The kid seemed to have a disparate aura, and Brendon didn't know how or why.

"Here, Your Highness,"  Spencer said abruptly, derailing the prince's spiraling train of thought by taking the bag from his hands.  "Allow me to carry your things."

For a fleeting moment, Brendon wasn't quite sure what to say.  He blinked, watched as the royal adviser struggled to throw the extra bag over his shoulders, and when he finally snapped back to the present moment, he found himself speaking without thought once more.

"Much obliged, Spencer."

The expression of pure astonishment that lit up the royal adviser's face was a bit jarring, to say the least.  He faltered, eyes threatening to pop out of his skull as he stared at the prince, then Jon, who merely shrugged his shoulders in response.

"Of, of course,"  was all Spencer could sputter out.  A delighted grin began to tug at the corners of his mouth, shining in his bright eyes and making the dark bags beneath them seem almost nonexistent.

As he turned to join Gerard and Mikey near the edge of the beaten road, Brendon spared a glance over his shoulder, in the direction he sensed a pair of watchful eyes on his back.  He wasn't surprised when he met Ryan's calm gaze, and he couldn't ignore the subtle wash of relief that flooded through him when the young blacksmith simply nodded his head once.

"Okay, let's get this show on the road, folks!"  Gerard hollered, his voice echoing through the miserable air.  "We only have about ten hours until nightfall, and that's when things start to get real nasty around here.  Follow our lead, and you should keep your organs inside your body."

"Let's move!"  Mikey added with a grand flourish, beckoning everyone to follow him down the road.  He spun on his heel and hiked his bag onto his back, marching toward the distant horizon of sullen skies and rocky mountains.

The rest trailed after him.

*  *  *  *  *

Nighttime only seemed to grow darker and more ominous the further they ventured into Dracden.  Darkness swallowed the starless sky and enveloped the group in frigid, formidable shadows, broken only by the flickering fire they huddled around.  Creatures of the night howled and groaned in the void beyond their makeshift camp.  The four from Asturias would've been petrified, if not for the sharp blades resting at the brothers' sides.