Journey To Capitol

The first rays of the morning sun peeked over the horizon, casting a warm glow over the small village. Zane stood outside his makeshift shelter, feeling the cool breeze of dawn on his face as he packed his belongings. He had spent the night in the village, recovering from his injuries and gathering his thoughts before setting out on his journey to the capital.

As he hoisted his pack onto his back, he turned to see Gorm standing a few feet away, watching him with a serious expression, his gruff demeanor masking a hidden concern for Zane's safety.. Zane nodded in acknowledgement and approached the old man.

"Thanks for everything, Gorm," Zane said, his voice laced with gratitude. "I couldn't have made it this far without your help."

Gorm grunted in response, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Yer a tough one, Zane. But don't underestimate the dangers that lie ahead."

Zane nodded, understanding the warning all too well. He had heard tales of the monstrous creatures that roamed the wilderness beyond the village, and he knew that he would have to be cautious if he hoped to survive.

"How far is it to the next village?" Zane asked, turning his attention back to Gorm.

"Three, maybe four nights on foot," Gorm replied, his voice grim. "Assuming yer not waylaid by the monsters of Vene, which ye will be."

Zane nodded, "Don't worry, I can take care of myself. But I appreciate the warning."

Gorm looked skeptical but decided not to argue. "Very well. Here, take this traveling pack. It should have enough supplies to get ye to the next village, but ye'll have to ration yer portions and keep yer eyes open for anything else edible along the way."

It contained a tent, a full waterskin, and a small amount of food. "We cannot spare much," Gorm grunted.

Zane took the pack and examined its contents. "Thank you. I'll make do with what I have."

"Just be careful, lad."

"I will. Thanks for everything, Gorm. We'll see each other again, I expect."

Gorm gave him a small smile. "I hope so. Safe travels, Zane."

Zane's steps were slow and heavy as he trudged along the dusty path. The relentless heat of the sun bore down on him, causing sweat to bead on his forehead and dampen his clothes. He looked around and couldn't help but notice how much everything had changed. The buildings looked different, the people dressed in unfamiliar ways, and the language had evolved. It was all so strange and disorienting.

Feeling lost and confused, Zane decided to stop and talk to some of the locals to get a sense of what was happening. It was then that he discovered that the village elder's warning about the destruction of Viye and the Queen of Ashes was indeed true. He learned that the queen ruled with an iron fist, rarely appearing in public except to quell any sightings of the rumored Viye. Only a select few had ever interacted with her.

As Zane continued his journey, he couldn't help but overhear the songs and tales of the Queen of Ashes. Despite her terrifying reputation, some bards and travelers also spoke of her beauty in awe-inspiring terms.

He heard one such song as sat in the dimly lit tavern, the chatter around him slowly faded away. A hush fell over the room as a bard took the stage and strummed his lute. The bard's voice was clear and strong, carrying across the room as he began to sing of the Queen of Ashes.

"Listen now, good folk, to a tale I shall tell,

Of a queen whose beauty did all others excel.

Her hair was the color of a fiery red flame,

And her eyes shone like emeralds, all aflame.

Her skin was as white as the driven snow,

And her lips as red as the roses that grow.

She rode into battle on a black stallion bold,

And her sword flashed like lightning, fearless and bold.

The people of D'zhare feared her might,

For her power was unmatched, her will like a knight.

But her beauty, oh her beauty, was what truly set her apart,

A queen to rule with both her mind and her heart.

Her every step was like a dance,

A goddess of war, fierce and entrancing.

For she was a force of nature, a queen like no other,

And her beauty shone like a beacon, a sight to discover.

For in the presence of the Queen of Ashes,

all men are equal, and all are awed by her beauty and her strength.

For she is a goddess among mortals

So raise a glass to the Queen of Ashes,"

Zane sat there in the tavern, listening to the bard's lengthy and elaborate tale of the Queen of Ashes. The crowd around him was enraptured, applauding at the end of each verse. But Zane sat in silence, lost in his own thoughts.

He remembered the queen well, and the last time he had seen her. They share a bond that transcends every taboo.

Zane couldn't help but wonder if she still remembered him, if she still had any shred of the person she used to be. He knew that if he was to find out, he would have to make his way to the capital and confront her directly.

As the bard finished his tale, the crowd erupted into applause. But Zane remained seated, lost in his own thoughts. The bard noticed him sitting there, unmoved by his performance, and approached him.

"Is something the matter, sir?" he asked.

Zane looked up, lost in thought for a moment before responding. "No, nothing's the matter. I just have a lot on my mind."

The bard nodded understandingly. "Ah, I see. Well, I hope my tale was at least somewhat entertaining for you."

"It was," Zane replied, "you're very talented. Thank you for the performance."

The bard smiled, pleased with the compliment. "Thank you, sir. I'll be here all night if you'd like to hear more."

Zane nodded, but didn't make any move to leave. He sat there, lost in thought, as the bard began his next performance. The other patrons in the tavern clapped and cheered, but Zane remained silent, wondering what his next move would be.

But one thing was certain - her rule was marked by fear and order. The people spoke of her as if she were a force of nature, something to be respected and feared rather than loved and revered.