They coughed as they looked around, the reality of their situation slowly sinking in. There was no more town. There was only the smoking ruins of what they once called home. Lucas grabbed a hold of Rosemary’s hand, so he wouldn’t lose her in the suffocating smoke, which he then started to search a way out of. They walked a ways down the road, until they could take a breath without coughing. They looked at each other. The shock obvious on both their faces. “D-dragonslayers,” Rosemary said, a tremble audible in her voice.
“Who?” Lucas asked, not sure if he heard her right.
“Dragonslayers,” Rosemary repeated, “those knights...they were on a mission to slay that dragon.”
“But they failed,” Lucas added, “and now our town…”
“All these years, that dragon must’ve been nesting near our town, and it never bothered us until the army decided to go and try to slay it,” Rosemary said, starting to rant.
“Rosemary,” Lucas said, but she ignored him and continued: “This is exactly the reason I never trust nobles or anything! They always think they’re better and smarter than everyone and ruin everything for the normal people!”
“Rosemary,” Lucas repeated, talking a bit louder, but he was still ignored.
“They ruin nature and towns and lives just for their own so-called honour! It’s preposterous! It’s disgusting! It’s...it’s…”
“Rosemary, it’s gone!” Lucas said, raising his voice, “the town, the people...we’re the only ones left…”
Rosemary forced herself to calm down so she could observe Lucas. He was quite shaken. Shocked even. She could relate perfectly. In one blow, he whole life had been destroyed. And her father, her poor father. She had hoped he would stay with her far longer than her mother did, but he didn’t get much further than five winters it seemed. “What do we do?” Lucas groaned, “where do we go?”
Rosemary swallowed. She knew what to do, and she knew it wouldn’t be fun, but they had no choice. “S-salvage,” she said, “w-we need to salvage as much valuables as we can. We’ll need them.”
“I...I have nothing valuable,” Lucas said, “a few coins, but I carry those with me.”
“I meant, everyone’s valuables,” Rosemary said, “money, jewelry...everything that didn’t burn. We can trade it for food and shelter.”
“It doesn’t belong to us,” Lucas said.
“I know, but what good will it be for them?” Rosemary said, “they’re all dead!”
Lucas sighed. She was right. He looked back at the burnt remains of the village. The worst smoke seemed to have gone now. He nodded. Rosemary walked back to the ruins, and Lucas trailed behind. He had his hands in his pockets, feeling the pendant brush against his fingers. The blood on it had gotten sticky. He had no idea who the knight was, let alone his father. Though, the two-headed eagle and the six-pointed star should be quite easy to recognise. He looked at Rosemary, her red hair sticking to the back of her dress as both were still soaked. Their best chance would be to travel to the next town or village together, but then what? Would they settle there and try to start a new life? Or would they split up? Could he tell her about the pendant the knight had given him? Would she help him find the knight’s father, or would she rather trade it for something they would need, like food or clothing? What if the valuables they found here, weren’t worth anything anywhere else? He’d never been outside this town after all. He had no idea what to expect, and it scared him. Was he really planning to travel like this? Unknowing, unprepared. Or would it have been different had everything gone according to plan? Would he have walked down the road with excitement and thrill, rather than anxiety and fear? Would he dwell on the thought of possibly not ever returning, or would he turn his back to the town and never look back?
All these questions zoomed around in his head, as his feet automatically walked the familiar way from the entrance of the town to his house. He stopped on what would’ve been the doorstep, but there was nothing there but ash and dust. He couldn’t even tell his mother’s remains from the remains of the entire house. It all looked the same; black and burnt.
“Lucas?”
He tore his eyes away from the ruins and turned to look at Rosemary, her face as stoic as usual. “We don’t have all day,” she said, “I want to be away from here before nightfall.”
Lucas just nodded. He was in no mood to argue about Rosemary’s manners, nor did he feel like discussing his fears. He manned up, and helped Rosemary find valuables among the rubble. Money, jewelry, even food which had miraculously survived the inferno. They picked up all they could carry, and once they felt like they had enough to survive on for a moon or two, they left. Down the road. Not looking back.

Under the cover of night, rode Sir Reynaert, accompanied by the Lady Ysmeina of the Fields of Arathmel. They had been chosen by King Arthurus of Elysium himself to check on the knights’ mission of slaying the dragon that had been making the roads to Arathmel, the Elven Kingdom, unsafe. The elves had strongly opposed the King’s mission, and with good reason. As the King’s most trusted scouts rode towards the dragon’s den, they came across the ruins of a town. Their horses growing restless as they trotted through the ashes. Lady Ysmeina winced upon hearing the echoes of the town’s demise. She was an Elven Priestess, and had been granted the power of hearing by the Elven Goddess Emis. Now, it was common knowledge that elves had a good hearing, with those big, pointy ears, but Lady Ysmeina’s gift allowed her to hear not only the present, but to hear the past and the future as well. A gift that came in useful in many occasions, unless one was traveling through a town that recently perished in a disaster. Sir Reynaert kept a watchful eye on his companion as they cleared the ruins as fast as they could. He knew the echoes of the past sometimes bothered her, especially after disasters like these. “This happened recently,” Lady Ysmeina suddenly said, answering a question Sir Reynaert hadn’t even thought of asking yet. Not until they cleared the ruins and stumbled upon a destroyed road. Suddenly Lady Ysmeina halted her horse, and dismounted. Sir Reynaert followed her example. “A lone knight came upon this road,” Lady Ysmeina said, answering yet another unspoken question. Sir Reynaert was a man of little words, something that could be blamed on his companion. She handed him the reins of her horse, before carefully treading further down the road. “Two younglings received him,” Lady Ysmeina continued, crouching down, “no introductions were exchanged before the knight passed to The Netherworld, and Thanatos unleashed his fury upon the innocent. However…” She pulled something from the ground, needing a few tugs as it had been molten to the ground. Sir Reyneart’s eyes weren’t as well-adjusted to the darkness as Lady Ysmeina’s elven eyes, so he could not see that she was holding a shield. Lady Ysmeina scraped the soot off of the shield, revealing the engraved coat of arms, which she could maybe use to identify the lone knight. She observed the image, and dropped the shield, gasping in shock.
“What is it?” Sir Reynaert asked, hearing the metal shield fall back to the ground with a thud. Lady Ysmeina returned to him and the horses. “The royal coat of arms,” she said softly, “Prince Enoch…”
“Did he wear the medallion?” Sir Reynaert asked. Lady Ysmeina shook her head. “I do not know,” she said.
“Ysa, we won’t know if it’s really Prince Enoch unless we find the medallion on him,” Sir Reynaert urged.
“I know, Reyn, but we would have to search these grounds, for all we know it could’ve been taken after his death, and there’s no way of telling whether the thieves were caught up in Thanatos’ fury or not.”
“Very well then,” Sir Reynaert said, “we shall continue our mission, and ride to the dragon’s den to see how the army fared. Then we shall move on to Arathmel, and send our report to King Arthurus. Perhaps, if Queen Eurydice will allow it, we can organize a search party to recover the medallion.”
“I doubt it,” Lady Ysmeina said as she took the reins of her horse back, “King Arthurus has really pushed the strain of our kingdoms’ relation this time. I wouldn’t be surprised if they make known they’ll only let you enter the palace because I am with you.”
Sir Reynaert sighed. She was right, but he remained hopeful. The only reason the kingdoms of Arathmel and Elysium hadn’t declared war yet, was because they had a contract. A contract that stated they would forever remain allies, no matter what. A contract that had been sealed with the engagement of King Arthurus’ second son; Prince Emrys, and Arathmel’s crown princess; Princess Lorelei. But with the arrival of the dragon Thanatos, and King Arthurus’ actions against it, the friendly relations between the two kingdoms were threatened.
“It’s late. Let’s make camp here,” Sir Reynaert said, taking his horse and guiding it towards the grassy plain alongside the road. They built a fire, and prepared a stew from the ingredients they had been carrying with them. Sir Reynaert longed for some meat, but he had to do with this tasteless mixture of vegetables and bread, as they didn’t have the time to hunt for food. They ate in silence, slept in shifts, and doused the fire before eating breakfast, saddling their horses, and continuing their way. However, when they were about to mount their horses, Lady Ysmeina suddenly froze. “Someone’s coming,” she said.
“Hostile?” Sir Reynaert asked, fearing it might be the dragon, looking for more revenge on the King’s army. Lady Ysmeina shook her head. “I hear singing,” she said. They stood in complete silence for a while, until Sir Reynaert heard it too.
“...as tale foretold the hero’s fate, brings him to the closed off gate... Where maiden’s heart shall be the key, to free the devil’s enemy… And when blue moon shines black tonight, we shall see who’s wrong or right…”
Sir Reynaert and Lady Ysmeina exchanged glances upon spotting the singer. A man clad in a suit fit for a noble, yet he was walking without a servant. His cane being tossed from one hand to the other, to the rhythm of his song. “...and when the goddess then bestows, grants a wish, a dream and oh… Devils ye be warned I say, for a hero has been born today…”
He kept on walking and singing, as if completely oblivious to the Knight and the Elf’s presence. Sir Reynaert didn’t trust it. “Halt!” he called as he drew his sword, stepping forward with a steady gait, until he stood behind the singer. The latter turned and smiled, taking his top hat off so he could bow. “Good day, good sir,” he said, “how can I be of service?”
“State your purpose,” Sir Reynaert ordered. The singer seemed puzzled. “Purpose? But I have none, sir. I’m just a wanderer.”
“Are you playing jokes on me?” Sir Reynaert growled. The wanderer shook his head, before turning to Lady Ysmeina. “Oh joy! An Elven Priestess in the flesh,” he said, “whose endorsement did you gain?” He gestured towards his left eye, referring to the black lines drawn around the Lady Ysmeina’s left eye. Sir Reynaert knew those lines had something to do with her hearing ability, but other than that the facial tattoo had always left him puzzled. “Emis,” Lady Ysmeina said, approaching the singer as she put a hand on Sir Reynaert’s shoulder. “I have heard of you,” she said, “Xenos, the infamous seer.”
“Infamous?” the singer, named Xenos, said, “I will have you know, it is not my fault that the Kings of Old did not heed my warnings.”
“Um...can someone fill me in?” Sir Reynaert said, feeling rather confused. Lady Ysmeina sighed. They didn’t have time for this. “Ride with us,” she said. It wasn’t a question. They mounted their horses, Xenos joining Sir Reynaert on the back. “The Kings of Old, are the the Kings who ruled over the lands before the current known kingdoms were founded,” Lady Ysmeina said as they continued their way in a trot, “the kingdoms were peaceful, as the kings were great friends. One day, a seer came to one of the kings’ court, and told him a tale of betrayal. He’d visited each king, and warned them for the discord that was to come. However, the Kings of Old did not trust the seer, for he was but a stranger to them. So the seer left, and was soon forgotten. Until several winters later, the Kings of Old came in touch with Queen Eris, the fairest queen the world had ever seen. She brought the Kings of Old strange goods they had never seen before, as they originated from a far off country, over which she ruled. But the Kings were not interested in her good, as they only saw the Queen’s stunning beauty. Eons of friendship and peace went down the drain, as the kings fought for the Queen’s hand, unknowing that this had been her plan all along.”
“Good grace,” Sir Reynaert said. Yes, he had heard the legend of the Kings of Old before, but he had never known that they were warned beforehand. He looked at Xenos over his shoulder. If that man was the same seer, then…
“He’s an immortal,” Lady Ysmeina said, answering yet another unspoken question. Sir Reynaert’s jaw dropped. He had heard of the ancient race, but they were said to be extinct long before the legend of the Kings of Old took place. Immortals did not age, nor did they get ill. It was unclear how a race that had eternal life could go extinct so easily, for their tale had many different versions. “What brings you to these parts, Lord Xenos?” Lady Ysmeina asked. Xenos chuckled. “Please, don’t appoint me a title. It’s just me,” he said, “as Priestess, I take you’re in a high enough position to grant me an audience with your queen? It’s somewhat urgent.”
“I can do that, but Sir Reynaert and I have to finish our mission for King Arthurus first,” Lady Ysmeina said, encouraging her horse to pick up the pace. Sir Reynaert followed her example.