Prologue

The sky was gloomy. Overarching bellows of thunder preceded sparks of lightning as a cascade of rain descended from the clouds. As freezing as the day was, three figures, two men and a woman, hurried in the woods as though they were oblivious of the unfriendly weather. It was a matter of life and death, so seeking asylum was the bigger picture. Behind them were a large group of fearsome knights on galloping horses, chasing hungrily. Their bodies were heavily shielded with metals. Its coldness similar to death itself.

Vicksen stared back in dread. It was no-brainer that outrunning these numerous troops would be improbable. After rescuing the crown prince and his wife from the bloodbath in Solice, the trio had been on the run for three good days!

In a greedy course for domination, the northern kingdom led an expedition to invade Solice, conquered it and laid it in desolation. The civilians were either killed or taken as slaves. It was a terrible massacre.

"Your highness, go ahead. I'll try to stall them."

Crown Prince Lukas Taptallen halted, not certain of what to say. He looked at his pregnant wife who was hyperventilating. His arm had been around her back all these while they were escaping. His supportive posture coupled with her pregnancy were the reasons behind their low speed rate. So whether Vicksen succeeded or not, the odds were still against him.

These northern barbarians were just too relentless.

They were blatantly out to eliminate the remnants of the royal family of Solice.

Solice had managed to hold the city gate for only three years before the emergence of an invincible archmage whose power extended beyond human imagination, as if obtained from a heavenly immortal. He engaged the royal mage of Solice and defeated him. Thus, leading to the downfall of the Eastern Province.

It was an era of outright tussle when the invincibility of kingdoms were determined by the magical prowess of their mages.

Suddenly, the pregnant woman collapsed to the ground with the guide of the prince. His eyes lit up in terror.

"Mariana... Mariana..." He trailed off.

The neighs and gallops of horses were becoming more audible. Vicksen unsheathed his sword waiting for the unfavourable outcome. His loyalty to Lukas was unquestionable, and he was more than ready to plunge into the pits of hell with him. He clasped the hilt of his sword in an attempt to gather courage. Vicksen was truly a very skillful swordsman. He still had the residual dry blood of the enemies from some days ago plastered on his armour. But who wouldn't tremble at the sight cold, emotionless riders from the north backed by the immortally empowered archmage. As said "The world is the dream, and death the interpreter." The sight of hundreds of cavalrymen wasn't a juicy one.

The sun had been intimidated that it vanished completely. Even the clouds lost their usual midday lights. The day was drastically grim, as if indicating the imminence of soul devourers.

However, a mage intervened in the nick of time. His brown robe looked a bit shabby. His long grey hair was augmented by a waterfall fringe that partly shielded his countenance. They were eerily long enough to touch his grey beard. Two silver cylindrical shaped bracelets wrapped each of his wrist, alongside a wand which he firmly gripped. Shrouded in the flickering lightning, his silhouette resembled the pale rider arriving from the underworld.

With agility, he tilted his wand towards the approaching cavalry. A fierce wind mustered up in the form of a great aura of energy. The horsed knights were subsequently influenced by a disastrous force which left them thumping their dorsal regions against each other and the stationary trees. The quartet escaped before their pursuers would regain consciousness.

They sheltered in a cave, away from the downpour. Everyone was shivering from the cold, so the mage cast a spell to warm up the cave. Lukas delicately made his wife sit on a steep rock and sat close to her with her head leaning on his bosom.

"Idrissa, how is she?" He asked, his head pounding with tension. The mage squatted to check her pulse.

"Your highness, she's weary from the long run. She'll be fine if she takes enough rest." The prince heaved a sigh of relief at this. Suddenly, a puzzled look crossed his face as he recalled what happened prior to the fall of Solice. His eyes fell rapidly on the old mage.

"I thought you were dead. How come you are still alive?" The old mage was overwhelmed with guilt.

"The gods were merciful. I escaped by the skin of my teeth." Then he fell on his knees. " The fall of Solice was as a result of my incompetence. I do not deserve to be in the land of the living." He added with a croaked voice that showed rue. After suffering defeat, he had escaped to an elusive region where he convalesced, replenishing his powers through tranquil meditation.

"This is not the time to begin to feel sorry. The principal thing is to get to a safe place where my wife can deliver safely. Besides, if you hadn't saved us, we would have been cold corpses lying in our own blood by now. I should be the one kneeling to express gratitude. Idrissa you don't have to keep kneeling there." The prince said and signaled the mage to rise.

He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something before unhurriedly getting up to his feet. It was a sign that he wasn't in the spirit to accept commendation. After some minutes of silence, the mage spoke.

"Your highness, I was able to track you because of your amulet. I put some of my essence energy in it." Lukas hoisted the amulet reclining on his chest and stroked it with his thumb as it glimmered. It was in the shape of a golden circle revolving around four carved spiral strings running about a fixed point.

"You tried your best to protect our kingdom, and now you're protecting me."

"This is what I owe you as your subject." The mage replied face-down. He thought for a while before speaking again.

"We should head north of east." He had discovered a recluse village there while convalescing. It would be a safe abode for the team. At least, making their whereabouts a mystery for the threatening northern soldiers was an immense gain.

"No, we can't!" Vicksen turned, his eyes widening in disagreement. He was at the entrance of the cave and had been tossing his head from side to side like a magpie, in the course of detection for possible neighing and gaiting horses. He hastened his feet toward the mage. Obviously, what Idrissa said didn't sit well with him.

"Technically, our enemies are chasing from the east. If we go north of east, it will only be a matter of time before we are captured. Instead, let's head to Southern Mirpurt. Considering that we were allies, I'm sure they'll be willing to help us."

"The princess will not be able to go through such a lengthy and arduous journey. Will you take responsibility if her time comes in the middle of the journey?" The mage protested.

The knight's lips parted in defeat as he pondered on his awkward opinion. He realized he had been stupid. Surely, he wouldn't dare do the job of a midwife, especially not to the princess. What's more, he had not done it for the first time in his life.

"It settled. We'll go north of east." Lukas concluded. He directed his eyes to the knight.

"We have no horses. Therefore, going to Southern Mirpurt in this state will be a jaunt of suicide." Facing the mage, he asked.

"Where exactly are we going?"

"Vatmos." was the reply.