VIII. RODRIG

Rodrig sat silently at the fire.

The night wind was blowing and fog had settled in the woods. The ground was covered in ice and frost kissed the treetops as a bride on her wedding day. There was a faint smell of the winter and the woods had gone silent.

When the breeze ruffled inside his wools, Rodrig felt a chill down his spine.

With nothing to do, he layed down on his back and stared at the night sky. The stars were out tonight and it gave him a feeling of satisfaction. He pondered over his past while the fire crackled.

It had been four days, since they had left Stonehenge and started for the West.

They had met some crows in the way and there had been a fight. Rodrig was able to fend them away but they had lost their mounts.

Now they were traveling on foot to the Harbour. If the Dark god is good, they will reach the coast in a fortnight.

They had some hope in Roweindell.

Maurice, as the King's hand, had agreed with Rodrig to form the alliance. Devon was the heir of Roweindell, so they had to hope for some support, unless the Lord forgives them for taking away their son.

It's not like he had wanted to kidnap the children, but Maurice had deemed it a necessary sacrifice for the Empire.

Maurice always puts his empire first. But at times, Rodrig  could not decide that it was an appreciable atricate of his friend's or harmful.

Many a times, he had thought of him as a harsh person. Loyalty might be good thing, but too much loyalty can drive anyone mad. He was not sure how his friend was keeping sane. Maurice can sacrifice anything if he thinks it's necessary and he has sacrificed a great deal.

He glanced at the two people sitting over the fire. Maurice was lost in his thoughts and glanced at the girl on his side now and then.

This was not good.

The princess was picking up ice and was trying to mould it into something which looked like a flower. She looked beautiful in the firelight and her eyes shimmered like the sky. Rodrig was more than happy to have such a beautiful highborn wife for the Dark Prince and by the way she talked about him, the princess liked Alex.

But Maurice was a different problem.

There were many kingdoms who would be happy to have an Aldegian princess for their heirs and by the past, Rodrig knew Maurice would not hesitate to give away the princess for an alliance.

But there was nothing he could do for it now, he would have to tackle the problem when it arrives.

There main concern right now was Roweindell.

He didn't know where Alex was right now, but he wished he was here right now. Even as a child, Alex's body had always showed signs of the Old blood but Rodrig had ignored them, but his dagger was glowing now. It was a last gift from Ragan Valahazar, Alex's father.

There was fire everywhere and burnt up corpses lined the ground.

There were screams and the chants for the lord of light. The Reyjins had won.

Black keep was closed forever and the Dark lands were abandoned.

Rodrig stood in the centre of the Hall, sobbing silently at the man in front of him.

Ragan was barely standing, with his face half-burnt.

He spoke silently, handing a dagger to Rodrig,

"Drive this through me and soak it with my blood.

When he is of age, watch the dagger,

If it glows, thou shalt know that the Old Blood is strong and will wake."

Rodrig took the dagger and drove it through his king's heart. His strength left him and he fell to the ground.