At Hero's Bay

Blood Song

𝐀 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡

𓄹 𝐊𝐑𝐎𝐖 𓄼

From the northern horizon of the Sumeghra mountains to the southern peaks of the Temestrial province, the zenith of midday began to crawl with billows of gray shadows. What was left of that warm, marigold sunlight had disappeared east to the Elseland. The Echealion was left with nothing but a desolate snowfall, and Krow couldn't seem to get enough of it.

From what many Amisians understood, aside from many soft-headed younglings, the Elseland was a place of wild green, unexplored acres that stretched as far as the eye could see. It was the second of the two continents of Amis, where almost no Amisians dared to tread. It was foretold that the spirits of the old gods slumbered there, and upon the king's order, the continent was to remain untouched for fear of awakening them again. The only true settlements were the twin peninsulas Sinrior and Hothum, a place of trade for mystical artifacts and other mysterious materials.

Krow wasn't a soft-headed youngling, however, he wasn't scared of such a fairy-tale, and nor was he interested in that vast and uncharted continent. He chose to remain where his people were; where Y/N was. And although they didn't share much of the same interests like the Elseland—being that Y/N was intrepid about the land—Krow would always remain by her side, as she did with him. And he couldn't be more grateful.

It's been that way since they were little; when they were once children who longed to rule the world. They were so much different now, older and wiser. They both understood the obscenities of power, of what it could do and what it couldn't, the sacrifices one would make, and those who would die in vain. Krow wanted none of it, he insisted, absolutely none of it, and was glad to see that Y/N had agreed. His beloved friend had stepped down from her birthrights when she came of age—stripping herself of what made herself better than a bastard.

And yet, Krow found himself bearing witness to Y/N taking on more responsibilities than she bargained for. Her absence rendered him alone now, during that star-shrouded and snowy dusk. The world before him was cold and seemingly empty as Krow was perched atop the balcony of the eastern parlor, directly outside of Y/N's quarters. The shadow stretched across the marble floors were his only company, dancing and wavering against the effervescent glows of the torchlights. And despite its silence, Krow reckoned that it was enough.

Y/N seldom relayed every bit of her plans whenever she'd leave off somewhere, especially in a hurry. And although Krow knew he should have faith in her strength and instinct to not be deceived, it doesn't stop his thumbs from twiddling together hastily. The evergreen in his eyes stayed dark and low as Krow pressed his chin to his chest, his elbows leaning further atop the railing. They should be back by now, Krow thinks as sweat begins to bead upon his brow, where could they be?

The tumultuous and nearly startling sounds of voices had caused Krow's head to veer, finding new company in a cluster of shadowy silhouettes that briskly followed a dimly-lit face that stayed further ahead of the group. People, Krow finally noted, watching the group of advisors and maidens at the heel of their king, Amwren Ramses Skaraieth. Krow considered that to say he was exhausted would've been an understatement—perhaps irritated would've been a better word to describe his king's predicament. And he could see why; they never shut up.

King Ramses evidently tried his best to appease the yammering of his court and was now just trying his hardest to dismiss them from their duties until tomorrow morning. However, it wasn't the slightest bit successful as they insisted that 'it would displease the queen'. Krow understood where Y/N was coming from with things like this, a long time ago, and by now, everything was just on a loop.