“Tarrin.”
Rosemary put her hands on her hips when Lucas so plainly read out the city’s name they encountered on a road sign. “Are you saying that because you actually understand the letters, or because you already knew Tarrin is the first city you encounter when traveling this road?” she asked. Lucas gave her an annoyed look. “Everyone knows Tarrin lies up yonder when you follow this road,” he said. Everyone meaning the people who lived around these parts. Rosemary clicked her tongue before continuing their long walk. “We have a lot of work to do it seems,” she said. Lucas rolled his eyes as he followed her. “I never asked for you to teach me how to read. If you don’t want to do it then don’t do it.”
But Rosemary wasn’t listening as she had excitedly hopped off the road and crouched near a plant with small, pink-ish flowers clustered together on the end of a branch. Lucas sighed and stopped, watching how she gently removed the dirt from around the plant, before carefully shoving it into her satchel, roots and all. “You done?” Lucas asked. Rosemary stood back up, nodding, but then gasped upon seeing more flowers up ahead. These were yellow in the middle, with small white petals surrounding. “Rosemary,” Lucas whined, “if we’re going to travel from flower to flower we’ll never get to the city before nightfall!”
“Okay, okay. This is the last one I promise— Oh goodness! Look Lucas, it’s Rosemary!” Rosemary said, holding up a small green herb. Its leaves looked more like needles. It reminded Lucas of Rosemary’s stoic demeanor, when they only just started to get along. She was...very prickly. “Okay I’m really done now. Honest,” Rosemary said, after collecting some of her namesakes and the other plant. She stepped back onto the road and kept herself from stopping for more herbs as they continued their way to the city. They had run out of the little food they had collected. Not that they weren’t used to being hungry, they had both seen some pretty harsh winters, where the weather got so cold they had only little to eat. They were also looking forward to buying new clothes, or at least shoes, given that neither of them was dressed for a long journey.
Around midday, they finally arrived at Tarrin. It was a small city, but a busy one, the large river running smack through the middle providing easy for a lot of traffic. The streets were so full with merchants that some had to sell directly off of their boat. They came across so many foods and goods they had never seen before, ranging from brightly-coloured exotic clothing to oddly shaped fruits. They saw animals – slain ones I might add – that they had never seen or heard of before, and were mainly impressed by the amount of noblemen and women. “I’m starting to feel like we couldn’t even afford a bread in this place,” Lucas muttered.
“Oh there ought to be some place where goods are cheaper,” Rosemary said, “I know, I’ve been here before.”
She took Lucas’ arm and pulled him along. They left the busy and colourful market, and diverted to a smaller one, with stands that seemed similar to the markets they had in their own town. The goods still looked foreign, but they were way less expensive. The merchants came on less strong there too. Rather than yelling the prices in their face, they would try to lure them to their stalls by saying how well their goods would suit them. “Aren’t you two just adorable,” an old lady who was tailoring a young woman’s dress to be somewhat shorter at the sleeves said, “are you looking for anything specific, dears?”
“Just some clothing better suit for far travels and some shelter for the night,” Rosemary said.
“Oh aren’t you lucky,” the woman with the tailored dress said, “my husband’s an innkeeper. Our prices aren’t high and I’m sure we’ll have a room free.”
“And I’m sure I’ve got something in your size,” the old lady added, “and if not I’ll tailor it for free. Go on. Everything on this table is for sale.”
Lucas and Rosemary exchanged glances, before smiling and trying to find something that would suit their tastes. Lucas settled for a black leather vest with sheepswool on the inside for extra warmth. Granted, the vest didn’t have sleeves, that would’ve made it even better, but it would do. Rosemary convinced him to buy some matching black trousers too, which he only agreed to so she would stop nagging him. While he was putting his new outfit on to see if it had to be tailored, Rosemary picked out a blue dress, and paired it with a brown cloak. It fit as if it had been made especially for her, and coloured beautifully with her red hair.
“So where are you two from?” the innkeeper’s wife asked as she showed Lucas and Rosemary the way to her husband’s inn. They exchanged glances before Rosemary answered: “We’re from Rustborough. A dragon destroyed our town. We’re the only ones who survived…”
“Oh good riddance you poor things,” the woman gasped, “my parents were born in Rustborough. Oh father would be devastated…”
They arrived at a small building with a wooden plate saying “The Jolly Rose Inn” in curly letters, surrounded by drawings of roses. “Believe it or not. This inn’s been here longer than the city. It was named after the owner’s wife, a woman who could bring a smile to anyone, usually by feeding them ale,” the innkeeper’s wife said, “now it’s ran by my husband, Elyas and me.”
“I’m Lucas, and this is Rosemary,” Lucas said, “we never caught your name, miss.”
“Adeline,” the innkeeper’s wife said, “Adeline Callen. Oh, and there we have my husband; Elyas Callen.” she added, when the door of the inn was thrown open, so Elyas could sweep the dust outside. He was a large man with a wild-looking, black hairdo and beard. Hadn’t Lucas and Rosemary known any better, they would’ve easily mistaken him for a giant. But grown giants would normally stand about twelve feet tall – twice the size of an average human. “Elyas, dear, would you prepare the finest room for our guests?” Adeline asked, “it’s on the house,” she added. Elyas’ face, which cleared up upon hearing the word “guests” turned equally quickly after hearing the second part. “What?” he asked, “why?”
“Their town just got destroyed, show some compassion,” Adeline said, “now chop, chop. I’ll prepare some food and drinks.”
Reluctantly, Elyas showed Lucas and Rosemary a surprisingly large room, with a beautiful view on the river. “Don’t get me wrong,” he said, “if I were a nobleman and this inn was just a house I would’ve gladly let you stay for as long as you needed to. But it is not a house, it is an inn, and I need to make a living off of it.”
“We understand,” Lucas said, “we do have money, though I don’t think we’d be able to afford this room.”
“I know a compromise that might suffice,” Elyas said, “you can stay in this room, but only if you pay the same price as our cheapest rooms. Oh, and don’t tell my wife.”
“Thank you, good sir,” Rosemary said, “we’ll start with one night and the meals. If there’s need to stay longer you’ll hear from us.”
“I can live with that,” Elyas said with a wink, before leaving them on their own. Rosemary went to explore all the luxuries of the room, but Lucas remained where he stood, sunken away in his thoughts. First the dragon, their survival by jumping in the well, and now an expensive room in the oldest inn in town for the lowest price. He didn’t quite remember all the details, but he was certain all of that had happened in the story that wanderer once told him. He thought hard, recalling the beginning of the story… “My story, is about a young man named Lucas...lived a normal life in a quiet town...one day stopped to drink water by a pond and saw a white stag...dying knight….dragon...well…”
“Rosemary? What does it mean when one comes upon a white stag?” Lucas suddenly asked. Rosemary looked up as she’d just been testing the comfort of one of the beds by letting herself fall on it. “That came out of nowhere,” she commented.
“Just answer the question. You’re the one who always finds meaning in everything,” Lucas said impatiently. Rosemary sat up. “Well, mother always used to tell me stories of adventure, and they were always about a young man or woman encountering a white stag, as premonition to their upcoming adventure. Why, have you seen one then?”
“Um...yeah,” Lucas admitted, “that day the army marched through and I hid out in the woods, just in case. I stopped to drink water, when a white stag joined me. It ran off when you startled me, though. You should’ve seen it too.”
“I really didn’t, Lucas,” Rosemary slowly said, “but if you did, then that could mean the past events are just part of a bigger plot...or it’s just coincidence.”
“I wish it were the latter,” Lucas sighed, as he revealed the pendant the knight had given him before he died, “have you ever seen this before?”
Rosemary stood up and took the pendant from his hand to take a closer look at it, her fingers gently sliding over the two-headed eagle. “The King’s crest,” she said, before turning the pendant around, “and a hexagram,” she added, observing the six-pointed star, “Lucas, where did you get this?”
“The knight gave it to me before he died, asking me to bring it to his father,” Lucas explained, “I think his father might be the king.”
“Just because he carried a pendant with the royal seal doesn’t mean he’s royalty,” Rosemary said.
“Yea, but I really do feel like we need to go to the capital,” Lucas said, “first of all, it was because of the king’s provocations that the dragon attacked our town, and secondly he ought to at least know who that pendant belonged to, given that it’s his seal that’s on it.”
“Do you really think the two of us could ever get an audience with the king?” Rosemary asked, “we’re just two peasants from a town you can only know of if you were born there. You don’t even have a name, Lucas.”
“Don’t need to rub that in,” Lucas sighed, “besides, I don’t need a name. If I wasn’t born with one, I’ll just have to make a name for myself.”
“I feel like I might come to regret this,” Rosemary said dryly, “but fine. We’ll go to the capital, and hope we don’t get arrested for demanding to see the king.”

And thus, the next morning, after thanking Adeline for her great care and secretly paying Elyas for the room, and after a satisfying breakfast, Lucas and Rosemary left Tarrin and left for the capital. It would be a long journey, and according to the map Adeline showed them that morning, they had to cross through two other large cities before they’d reach the capital.
Meanwhile, far on the other end of the kingdom, Sir Reynaert, Lady Ysmeina and Xenos had reached the dragon’s den, and stumbled upon the most gruesome mass-grave one couldn’t even begin to imagine. Even Xenos, who had seen a lot of death in his long life was shocked to find the ground had been coloured entirely red with blood. Trees and flowers had hung their leaves in sorrow at the mass loss of innocent lives that had occurred here. Sir Reynaert looked at Lady Ysmeina, who had now covered her ears, trying not to listen to these slain men’s last moments. Sir Reynaert looked around. Only a few had been burned alive. The rest of the army had been brutally slaughtered, cut or bitten to pieces. It truly was a terrible sight to see. “Let’s move on,” Sir Reynaert said, “before Thanatos returns.”
“You mean before the priestess loses it?” Xenos said. Sir Reynaert rolled his eyes. Of course that too. They quickly galloped out of there, and soon reached the Kingdom of Arathmel. Directly on the border, lay the Kingdom’s capital city; Lelathyr. In the centre of the city, lay Avolire Castle, where the royal family resided. Before entering the city, they had to dismount their horses, for no one was allowed to stand above the King and Queen. Though, the horse rule was more of a safety thing, for the streets were too busy to just trot through without causing accidents. The standing above royalty thing was actually more about ranks, but it sounded pretty regal, so the elves kept it in. Sir Reynaert didn’t like it, but he respected the rules, so he didn’t complain. Lady Ysmeina was used to it, or course, and Xenos just seemed glad to be off the horse. “I never liked traveling by horse,” he admitted, rubbing his sore bottom.
“Xenos, you always walk everywhere, don’t you?” Lady Ysmeina asked. Xenos just nodded, as he was too busy looking around to answer properly. “Do you seek something?” Sir Reynaert asked.
“More like someone,” Xenos slowly said, “but I’m not sure if they’re around yet...what day is it today?”
“The first day of the Waning Crescent,” Lady Ysmeina answered. Xenos slapped his hand against his forehead, earning some curious stares from the many elves around them. Those who had never met a human in person were not quite familiar with the concept of a facepalm. “Good riddance, they aren’t supposed to be here before the new moon,” he exclaimed, and upon noticing his companions’ confused looks he added: “oh, um. Sometimes I confuse my visions of the future with my sight of the present. I always lose track of the day. Oh well. At least I wasn’t late this time.”
Sir Reynaert was about to repeat that last bit, but with a question mark behind, when Lady Ysmeina already answered: “He was supposed to meet someone at that town we passed through earlier, but arrived too late. Then he decided to join us so he’d at least be here in time.”
“Very good, Priestess. It seems Emis chose wisely as to who she’d lend her hearing,” Xenos said with a wink. Lady Ysmeina smiled. “You humble me, Xenos,” she said, though her expression betrayed that she was more amused than humbled, “and please just call me Ysmeina...as long as there aren’t others around. Except for Sir Reynaert. In his company it’s okay.”
“Duly noted,” Xenos said, tipping his hat, “now let us go to the Castle of Avolire!”