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The journey towards Caer Morgraig had been frustratingly slow compared to how fast it could be. He had trailed the outskirts of the forest for nearly a full day, spurning his horse on a little more than he should have. The stallion needed rest desperately as well as water, so Henry stopped, waving up at ‘the emerald tempest’ to land. The green bastard had been flying alongside him as he had said, but clearly could be going much faster. If only he were allowed upon his back, then they may be at the river by now and almost at Caer Morgraig.

As he was watering his horse with his waterskin, the dragon landed close to them, making the horse jolt a little. Henry just groaned in frustration as he glared at the dragon who was settling himself nearby. “Glad to have your company again.” Henry said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he turned back to his horse, following the water up with some food from the saddle bags.

The dragon was stretching his wings and huffed loudly, the sarcasm clearly not lost on him. “I could always just keep flying. I am sure a castle is not hard to miss.”

“Or you could just let me fly with you.” Henry argued, binding the horse to a tree quickly. “You did not exactly give me any room to argue in favor of that idea. Just said you wouldn’t be my pack mule and then took off at the first chance.”

He heard the dragon snort at which Henry rolled his eyes, turning around once his resting steed was secured. “I mean it. I could let the horse free and then it would only be us two. Why your pride will not allow it I do not understand!” Henry slightly rose his voice this time, causing the dragon to frown.

“You practically begged for my aid.” The dragon lowered himself onto his underside, his neck curling into an S shape as he glared at Henry. “That did not include carrying you to this castle.”

Henry sighed in frustration, pinching his cranium. Seldom had he met a dragon this damn stubborn. It was like he was talking to what a lowlander or a foreigner might imagine to be, the perfect stereotype, stubborn and prideful to the point of arrogance. There was no getting through to him this way as he saw it, at least not without some form of compromise. “Fine.” Henry spoke up after a good minute of silence. “At the very least walk alongside me then.”

Henry saw the dragon open his maw, but he spoke first. “The way we are traveling right now we are no faster than if we were both grounded and yet anyone who may want to do a dragon harm can see you flying circles in the air from miles away. If we want to travel safe while also accounting for your damn pride, then spare your wings the trouble and walk with me.”

In the dragon’s eyes he could see that he was thinking about it, locking eyes with Henry the entire time. The main road was still perhaps a day away if they were to follow the edge of the woods. It was the safest option, safe for flying of course, with the option to quickly flee into the shade of the trees. None of that were needed if the damn dragon would just see sense.

“Alright.” The emerald tempest said at last. “I shall walk with you, but I not carry any-“

“Yes I get it.” Henry sighed, shaking his head. “Thank you for at least seeing some sense.” With a grunt he sat down near his horse before taking a sip from his waterskin himself.

“Be glad I am with you at all, human.” The dragon grumbled in an irritated tone. “For were it not for you I would still be hunting down invader scouts.”

Henry merely scoffed at that. “Until you come across the wrong ones.” He retorted while searching for some of his food rations in the saddlebag. “Unless you are somehow immune to their poison.”

At that he heard the dragon growl low in his throat. Henry looked back to him, seeing his claws unsheathed and his muscles tense. “I’ll have you know that I fought them before, the dragon slayers, and survived! I would slaughter any who would cross my path without any of their vile poison entering my system!”

Glaring into the dragon’s eyes, a theory of his came back to the forefront of his mind. This dragon was just in eastern Albia, slaying Briinaboriens in the woods. Clearly he must have lived in the eastern mountains, along the coast. Stubborn as he appeared to Henry it was no wonder the dragon did not leave. It cannot be a coincidence however that he knew that Arylaryl’s parents had lived made themselves at home in eastern Albia, finding a home in the mountains there. Ary scales were blue and green as well, so to find a green dragon from the eastern mountains was far too big of a coincidence to just ignore. It should have been obvious the moment he asked the names of the escaped dragons. Now that he mentioned a previous run in with the slayers however, Henry’s thought was rekindled.

A new thought bloomed as well then, a deeply saddening one. It was clear that they had done something or taken something from this dragon. Now though, Henry was almost certain they had killed his mate. For the time being it was merely a theory, albeit a strong one, still his face fell at the thought. The dragon must have taken his change of expression as a signal for truce as his own features softened as well, his claws sheathed again and teeth no longer bared.

A weary sigh escaped Henry’s throat, his hands rubbing at his temple. “Look… I will not ask what happened, for I am well aware that it is my place to ask. We just need to stick together, as that way we both are stronger. You slaughtered them before? So have I! Many of them and I intend to slaughter many more.” He spoke with utter conviction, every word coming from the heart as he looked the dragon deep into his eyes, golden pools full of swirling emotions hidden behind a stoic façade. For but a moment the dragon merely stared back at him, before he snorted and rose up to his paws.

“That little speech was not needed, knight. I already said I would walk with you.” He said in a manner that would almost suggest a sarcastic joke, but layered with something else. Henry just let out a stifled chuckle as the dragon turned to walk off. As different as they may be, it reminded him of something Cyrvanyx would do. Just walking away and end the conversation with a snarky remark. At least when he was in a good mood and not so lost in his own head anyway.

“Suppose you are right.” Henry called after him and got on his horse. At least now they could walk together. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

Onwards they went, following the forest’s edge for the time being. Henry’s mind could not help but wander away from the present yet again. There was a chance that once they get to Caer Morgraig all they would find would be a sorry excuse for an army and a few scattered nobles keeping them together. If the Northmen have not shown up either, then what chance was there truly. In the end there was no king to truly unite them, so who would lead the remnants of the Albien army Henry could only guess. A good guess would be his uncle as well respected and recognized member of the royal council, when there was still a council.

All Henry knew for sure that his uncle would be there, as he knew he was heading home after the disastrous defeat at Dimbarrow. Henry sighed as he massaged his brow, trying to rid himself of his worries, as they would get him no further now than they did days ago. Instead he focused on the here and now, taking in deep breaths of the fresh autumn air. There was a scent if moistness in the soft breeze, scattered leaves being carried away. Hard as it was, he tried to focus on that. He was alive and he had to make that count, not just for himself, but also for his family. The ones that died and the family he still has left. He cannot do that falling into a pit of despair. With that thought in mind, he tried to focus on the good things he knew were waiting at home, the simple things. A warm bed, warm food and a good glass of wine.

It made him chuckle thinking about it, which made the dragon’s ear twitch. At that Henry saw the chance to finally hold some more lighthearted conversation. “Have you tried wine before, emerald tempest?” He had to restrain a chuckle upon saying his chosen name again.

Not slowing his pace, the dragon looked back with an almost offended expression, brow low, eyes narrowed and frills raised. “Of course I have.” He answered with a scoff. “The local humans we were protecting often did include good aged wine. I could often especially appreciate the honey variety, mead, but they did not have it in stock often. That or they did not dare give it up for tribute often.” The dragon chuckled softly to himself.

Henry smiled at the genuine response, despite the tone with which it started, ignoring the “we” he mentioned. “Right, of course. I was just thinking about wine and a warm bed. You know, trying to think of the smaller joys in life to look forward to back home besides having to fight a war to save our homeland.”

The dragon huffed in what sounded like disapproval to Henry, keeping his head forward and his face out of sight. Just in that small noise the dragon made Henry felt a sense of disbelief in what he said, a sentiment that he had been thinking about himself. A kingdom with no king left. What was there truly to fight for except for their own individual freedoms. “You know, I am not a mind reader, but I feel there is some mistrust in our task.”

“Mistrust?” The dragon retorted in an irritated tone. “No. I am merely a realist. I am not expected to be greeted by a warm place to rest and wine, neither do I require it. I agreed to this alliance to bring fire and claw to our common foe. So long as that is what I get to do then-“ Abruptly he stopped talking, both his ears raised as he halted dead in his tracks.

“What?” Henry inquired, confused, as he too stopped his horse and listened. All he could hear was the gentle wind lapping at leaves clinging to branches. A soft growl was building in the dragon’s throat as he lowered his position to one that looked defensive and ready for a fight. “What is the bloody matter? I don’t have your ears!” Henry whispered, wishing he could scream.

“I hear horses. Several. Running fast away from the forest.” He responded at last, nodding his head to the direction of the sound. Straining his ears to listen as carefully as he could, he heard it too. It had to be far away, galloping horses. Judging by how fast it sounded they were going it must have been a chase. “There they are.” The dragon whispered, keeping himself low to the ground. Henry rose forward slightly to look at what his green scaled companion was seeing.

Ahead of them there were several riders, seventeen in total, galloping after a horse with two riders. It appeared that the chase had just led them out of the forest and onto the open plains. The people on the feeling horse seemed to bear no arms or armor, at least none Henry could identify from so far away. The riders giving chase however bore spears and shields as well as armor, some of their mail glittering in the sun. Although it was too far away to truly make out Henry knew that these armored riders could only belong to one people.

“Invaders.” The dragon growled in a low and menacing voice, his eyes fixed on the riders, his word speaking Henry’s thought out loud. In that moment he held a hand upon his sword, but hesitated. Whoever these people were clearly needed help and would be potential friends if the enemy was chasing them. However, as the stubborn dragon would not carry him, risking one of the riders getting away to warn nearby garrisons could be a great risk. Besides he saw some of them bore bows at the side of their mount and there was no telling these were not dragon hunters with some Dragonsbane arrows stashed away.

While Henry was thinking whether to aid or not, his companion seemed to see only blood as he let out a deafening roar, spooking Henry’s horse just enough for him to almost get launched from the saddle. Shortly after the dragon took to his wings, flying low to the ground towards the riders who had already spotted the dragon and stopped their chase. Clearly the dragon suddenly coming at them was the bigger worry no matter who the people they were chasing were. “Damn you!” Henry cursed as he unsheathed his sword. “Have it your way, emerald.”

It took only a moment to get his horse back under control, all the while his eyes were locked on the horsemen. A few of them he could see drawing bows, hearing far away orders being barked by one of the men wearing a gilded helmet. The captain, Henry thought. His target was clear. He spurned the horse onwards and into a gallop, reading his sword at the side. The enemy horsemen bore spears alongside their bows so he had to be careful about their range advantage. Not that any of them were paying him much attention as his green companion swooped in with another mighty roar, belching orange flame at two riders trying to shot at him. Both were caught in the cone of fire, their screams intermingling with their horses, creating a horrific sympathy of terror.

Henry was fast approaching, seeing them all disperse as quickly as possible. The first arrow hit the dragon’s side, quickly followed by the second and third. They were good shots and trained to shoot from horseback clearly. Hopefully they did not bear the cursed poison from their island or those few hits were enough to bring him down soon. Either way though, he would have enough time to kill them all. The third man was felled by a swift tail strike, sending him flying off his horse, clearly with several broken bones. If he was lucky he died right away from the impact and would not have to suffer.

As the dragon flew a circle over them Henry reached them as well. Distracted as they were it took them too long to defend as he sent a well-placed slash at a passing rider who tried to block with his bow, but alas was cut across the shoulder and side of head and shoulder. It was not so deep as to kill him, but the shock sent him recoiling enough to fall of his mount at high speed, likely ending him instead. Henry heard orders from their captain. From what he could pick up in the chaos he told one man to flee. Just as two riders were coming for him he indeed saw a single horseman break of and ride in the direction they came from.

The hand on the reins tightened as he stole a glance as the people they were pursuing. Most of the Briinaboriens were focusing on the dragon. However, the captain alongside another rider were going for their initial target. He saw that one of the people pursued had a blade in hand while the person sitting behind him in the saddle merely clung to him. A man and a woman from what he could tell. For a second he was unsure, and yet he knew he had to act fast. Save then stranger or go after the rider. There was no way of telling how many reinforcements could be on them soon once they hear about a dragon intervening with their orders. At the same time, he could see by the way the young man was holding his sword he could not win that fight, much less the woman behind him. Not to mention that they must be important seeing how many men were hunting them. On the other hand, maybe they were just traitors.

Silently he cursed his compassion as he changed course to the pair on horseback, both their eyes looking terrified at the coming captain, armed with a spear and armored in mail from head to toe beside his solid helmet. There was a glint of determination in the young man’s eyes while the woman’s features were mostly hidden by her wild red-blonde hair. Their fear was still very clear. Henry spurned his horse onwards faster, feeling a glancing blow on his head as he heard a faint thud of an arrow hitting his helmet. Damn good thing he thought of wearing it while traveling like this, as cumbersome as it was. Another arrow whizzed past him, but not aimed at him. Instead this one hit the calf of the horse bearing the fleeing man and woman. Henry cursed seeing the horse crumble, sending both its riders tumbling down with it. Luckily for both of them none of them ended buried under the animal, and yet they were now in more danger than before.

Then he heard something from the captain that both shocked and reinvigorated his resolve. “A curse it! Just kill them! Better that than the royals getting away!”

His heart skipped a beat as he heard those words, thinking for a moment his knowledge of Norse may have faltered and misheard. Royals? He thought. He could not possibly mean…

Yet when he looked at the young people lying there on the ground, dirty and struggling as they were, he could still see it. As the young man turned to look for the woman, his face full of fear, Henry saw the clear resemblance to their late king. His strong jaw, wide nose and his piercing blue eyes. There was no mistaking it, that young man was either prince Aethur or prince Daeron, either of which would make the woman princess Alina. Henry’s heart soared in that moment. The news from Caer Brenin made it sound like the whole direct royal bloodline was extinguished in a single day, and yet there they were, two people of royal blood before him.

And one of them was his rightful king, whether it was the crownprince or his younger brother, he would be the king as the sole male heir either way.

Henry’s sword suddenly felt very heavy as he was in a full gallop towards the Briinaborien captain, his head facing Henry for but a moment before he was focused back on the prince. No longer was he doing merely a good deed. He held the while future of Albia in his hands, upon his shoulders, as he rode to stop the assailants. Above him he could hear the dragon keeping the rest busy, but these two were so close to the prince as well as his sister, who was lying totally motionless on the ground. Both of them seemed focused to slay the king who had not even stood up. In that moment Henry knew that he could not reach him in time. He had to improvise, a desperate attempt to save the man Henry already saw as his true king. While he was still fast approaching he changed the grip on his longsword, holding it by the blade instead. It was something he had done before, as unideal as a method as it was. With all the power he could muster he threw his sword like a spear toward the captain. “Saethwr, guide my aim!” He prayed to the god of archery as he watched the blade fly.

The captain was almost in striking distance when the sword blade hit his horse, grazing its leg with the blade, the sword spinning wildly after it hit and landing in the grass. It was enough however to bring the steed off balance. It fell then, taking the rider with it. It was not a deadly fall, as both rider and horse were very much alive, but he bought time. Henry silently thanked the gods for his aim and unclipped his greatsword from the saddle, taking it in both hands as he rode towards the second rider. The prince seemed a secondary target to that man as he quickly adjusted his charge to hit Henry instead, just as he had hoped. Firmly he held the greatsword in his hands. Not an ideal weapon on horseback, but nothing about the whole situation was ideal anyway. The rider approached with spear braced at charging speed, the tip leveled at Henry’s chest. Perhaps his armor could save him, but broken rips were nearly guaranteed. That was if the blunt trauma of the impact did not kill him just like that, or the fall shortly after. Good thing then that he was not planning on getting hit.

The charger reached him, his face a grimace of a warrior’s rage while Henry’s rage remained controlled and collected. The spear would have met its mark true had it not been for Henry’s swift reaction. With his greatsword held like a spear he parried the spear shaft away before the tip could hit his chest, instead merely glancing off his shoulder. Henry’s parry on the other hand turned into a counterattack which the charging lancer did not seem to anticipate, as the strike cleaved right through his lower jaw, his half helmet doing little to protect his face, taking off half his head.

There was little time to celebrate in his kill. Behind him he could hear the dragon land accompanied by the sounds of dying men. He trusted that he would take care of the rest, for Henry still had the captain to deal with. Quickly he spurned his horse onwards towards the downed captain. The man, instead of getting to his feet, got to his knees and held his spear out towards Henry. Barely he managed to stop his steed, cursing as he swung himself off the saddle to face the captain on foot. A glance towards the royals showed that the prince was shaking his sister on the ground. Henry hoped she was alright.

With greatsword in hand he charged at the captain who swiftly threw his spear aside in favor of mace, picking up his shield as well before Henry could reach him. “Come then, you bastard!” Yelled the captain as he banged his mace against his shield. Henry had no retort to offer except for a mighty war cry as he smashed the greatsword into the man’s defensive shield. He parried the blow with practiced finesse, his mace coming forth to smash into Henry’s chest. The hilt of his sword was brought up swiftly with the remaining momentum of the strike, just in time for the blow to hit the sword, only barely missing his hand. Gripping the sword like a spear he attempted to jab at the captain several times.

The man’s shield did its job, as every stab and strike were blocked or parried just as every mace strike did not hit its mark. Henry tried patiently to find an opening, a chance to get him, as they exchanged blows for several long seconds. One hit did land on Henry’s arm, but his armor did the job well enough. The pain was there, but not so severe as to expect a broken bone. Getting hit also revealed a chance as his assailant proved impatient, attempting to use the pained recoil from Henry as an advantage. Little did he know that it was merely bait. When the captain lurched forward so did Henry, and while his left side was entirely protected by his shield, his right arm was not as it came in for the strike. From the low position his sword was held he swung upwards swiftly, separating the captain’s hand near the wrist where his chainmail ended.

A scream rang out as he tumbled back but was swiftly silenced, as Henry swung back with his blade from the momentum of the earlier swing. The swing took his head only half off, cutting deep into his throat. His body fell to the ground, dead before he landed.

Henry breathed a sigh and dared to look back to the rest of the fight. Many of the fighting men had already given their lives while two remaining men were soon to be dealt with by the dragons claws and his fire. However, Henry saw one man riding away into the distance. Too late now to jump back on his horse and chase him down. “Curse it!” He murmured. “One is getting away! Go after him swiftly!” The twitch of an ear told Henry that he heard him, but no true response came. He grunted and turned to make his way to the royals, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw the young princess move.

He advanced, armor bloody and sword in hand while the fight behind him was not truly done yet. The prince quickly looked up at the approaching knight, his eyes still wide and filled with shock, fear, relief and many more emotions. “I… do not know how to thank you, sir…” The prince spoke, voice shaking. For a moment his eyes went back to the fight, which had just ended with a sickening crunch as the dragon crushed the last assailant, allowing his horse to flee in terror. Henry looked too, seeing the dragon look after the one rider that was fleeing from the battle. He let out a snort and took to the skies. Henry was glad the stubborn bastard listened.

“There is no need for thanks.” Henry responded, bringing the prince’s eyes back to him. “I have done only my duty, especially once I heard the captain call you royalty, your majesty.” Henry said, finishing with a bow so deep he could not see how the prince reacted.

“You… you are a knight of the dragon?” The prince asked with a hint of uncertainty mixed with fear.

“I am indeed, your majesty.”

“Gods be good.” He sighed in relief. “I beg of you, sir, help my sister up. She is breathing but is not quite conscious.”

“Of course, your majesty.” Once again he bowed and did as the prince asked, picking up the princess as carefully as he could. Her eyes opened slightly as he held her, some nonsense mumbling coming from her. Henry could not see any blood on her however except for the stains her clothes were receiving from his own hands. “I do not think it likely she is very injured. She just needs some time to rest.”

“I…” He heard the prince sigh. “My apologies, sir, I… a lot happened and I need to gather myself.” Henry looked towards him, seeing his eyes avert from the carnage around them as Henry took his horse by reins, still holding the princess in both hands. He did not think too the prince to be much of a fighter by the way he looked he acted around the bloodshed. Clearly he was talking to prince Aethur and not Daeron. Of course it had to be the bookworm. Henry caught himself thinking and shook his head. He had to be grateful if even just one member of the royal family was alive, and here he was just having saved two of them.

They walked back to the edge of the forest, away from prying eyes. “I did not think to meet a friendly face out in the open like this.” Prince Aethur said when they were halfway there. “Especially not a knight of the order alongside a dragon.”

Henry chuckled. “I did not think to come across to come across prince Aethur and princess Alina on my way to Caer Morgraig, your majesty. We had heard that the king was dead along with the whole royal family.” He glanced back, bowing his head. “My condolences for your father, your majesty. He was a good man.”

Prince Aethur just smiled. “The words ‘your majesty’ still feel wrong. You call me prince and yet honor me as a king.”

Henry stopped in his tracks. “A priest may not have crowned you yet, but in my heart I know that you are to be Albia’s king, your majesty.” He turned ‘round to look Aethur in the eye. “I was on my way to Caer Morgraig, alone, when I came across the green dragon you saw with me.” They both stole a glance in the direction in which he flew, spying him in the distance on the way back to them. Henry smiled slightly and returned his gaze to the prince. “Still, I was afraid that this war was doomed nonetheless. For who would lead us. My uncle perhaps, but… with the last son of king Aerdur alive and well my purpose is clear. The reason why the gods saw fit to have me live while by brothers all died. It is to bring you and your sister to safety, to lead our people to freedom and victory.”

The prince’s eyes lowered to the floor, darting back and forth in thought. “Sir I… I must have misheard. Is that why you are… is…” The young man stammered, but Henry knew clearly what he was thinking.

“Yes, your majesty.” He responded, swallowing the sudden sorrow he felt at the words he knew he had to say. “The order has fallen… and I am all that is left.”