The Road to the Capital. Morning.
Edward rode at the front, his back straight, his eyes on the road ahead. His horse was tired, its breath misting in the cold air, but he didn't slow. He hadn't slowed since they left the palace. He couldn't.
Gwen rode beside him, her hand on her sword, her eyes on the trees. She had been quiet since they left, watching, waiting. She knew when to speak and when to stay silent. This was a time for silence.
The road stretched ahead, empty and long. The fields were bare, the villages were quiet, the sky was gray. Winter was ending, but spring hadn't yet arrived. The world was caught between.
Edward spoke. "He shouldn't have had to choose."
Gwen looked at him. "Aldric?"
Edward nodded. "He was just a boy. A farmer's son. He didn't ask for any of this."
Gwen was quiet for a moment. "No one asks."
Edward shook his head. "He made a choice. He saved everyone. And now he's gone."
Gwen rode beside him. "He knew what he was doing."
Edward looked at her. "Did he?"
Gwen met his eyes. "Yes."
Edward was silent for a moment. Then he nodded. "I know."
---
They stopped at midday to rest the horses.
The road was empty, the fields were bare, the sky was gray. Gwen found a stream, filled her water flask, drank. Edward sat on a fallen log, his hands on his knees, his eyes on the ground.
"You blame yourself," Gwen said.
Edward looked at her. "I wasn't there."
"You couldn't have been."
"I should have been." Edward's voice was tight. "I was at the palace, reading reports, signing papers. He was in the canyon, fighting creatures, closing a portal." He shook his head. "I should have been there."
Gwen sat beside him. "You would have died."
Edward met her eyes. "Maybe."
"Then you would have died for nothing."
Edward was quiet for a moment. "Aldric didn't die for nothing."
"No," Gwen said. "He didn't."
---
They reached the capital at sunset.
The walls were high, the towers tall, the gates open. Soldiers in royal colors stood at attention, their spears raised, their faces blank. The streets were crowded—merchants, servants, nobles, people who had never seen a creature and never wanted to.
Edward rode through the gates, his back straight, his face calm. Gwen rode beside him, her hand on her sword, her eyes on the crowd.
The palace was at the center of the city, its walls white, its towers gold, its gardens green. Edward had grown up here. He had run through these halls as a child, had hidden in these gardens, had learned to be a prince in these rooms.
Now he was returning as something else. Something harder. Something colder.
The King was waiting.
---
The throne room was crowded.
Nobles in silk and velvet, advisors in dark robes, soldiers in polished armor. They parted as Edward walked through, their eyes on his face, their whispers following him.
Gwen stayed at the edge of the room, her hand on her sword, her eyes on the throne.
King Amos Ironhold sat on the throne, his back straight, his hands on the arms of the chair. He was old—his hair white, his face lined, his eyes sharp. He had been on the throne for thirty years. He had seen wars and famines and plagues. He had seen the kingdom rise and fall and rise again.
He had never seen anything like the creatures.
Edward stopped before the throne. Bowed.
"Your Majesty."
The King studied him. "You've grown."
Edward met his eyes. "I've been fighting."
The King nodded slowly. "I've heard."
---
The King dismissed the court.
The nobles filed out, their whispers fading, their eyes lingering. Gwen stayed at the edge of the room, her hand on her sword, her eyes on the King.
The King stood. Walked down the steps of the dais. He moved slowly—his joints ached, his back was stiff—but his eyes were sharp.
"Tell me about the portal," he said.
Edward was quiet for a moment. "It's closed."
"The creatures?"
"Will stop coming. The ones already here will need to be culled."
The King nodded slowly. "And the boy? The hero?"
Edward met his eyes. "He's gone."
The King was silent for a moment. "Dead?"
Edward shook his head. "I don't know."
---
The King walked to the window. Looked out at the city below.
"The people are afraid," he said. "They hear stories about creatures in the hills, about portals that open in the night, about heroes who disappear." He paused. "They want to know if they're safe."
Edward moved to stand beside him. "They're safe. The portal is closed. The connection is severed."
The King turned. "Is it?"
Edward met his eyes. "Yes."
The King studied him. "You're sure?"
Edward was quiet for a moment. "As sure as I can be."
The King nodded slowly. "Then we need to make sure."
---
The King returned to his throne. Sat heavily.
"The Duke's report was... incomplete."
Edward nodded. "There were things he couldn't write."
The King leaned forward. "Tell me now."
Edward told him. About the portal. About the creatures. About Aldric. About Vorlag. About the hunters.
The King listened without interrupting.
When Edward finished, the King was silent for a long moment.
"The portal is truly closed?"
"Yes."
"And Vorlag?"
Edward shook his head. "We don't know. Grog thinks he's still out there. In other worlds. Possibly with for Aldric."
The King absorbed this. "Then we need to be ready."
Edward nodded. "We do."