Chapter Ten
Alastor moved slowly, rarely uttering a word for the past day of travel. He stopped abruptly, hopping off his horse in the middle of the pathway. Elysium cocked her head.
"What are you-?"
"- There's dark magic nearby." His voice was stiff, hands still wrapped around the reins.
Elysium grew quiet, shrinking back in her saddle. Alastor strode to a tree, wedged his foot between two branches, and hoisted himself up, scanning the mountain they were meant to descend. He squinted into the distance, breath catching. Dark magic pulsed from a city ahead.
"If we go that way, they can give us somewhere to stay," he said sharply.
Elysium arched a brow.
"That's the opposite direction of our path," she replied, pointing to the map sprawled across her lap.
As she studied it, she realized how much terrain remained: mountains, oceanside cliffs, canyons, rivers. The sheer distance made her stomach twist. A wave of weakness rushed over her.
"That could take hours," she said stubbornly. "Absolutely not."
"Don't be a brat, Elysium."
Her blood boiled.
"You will address me properly," she hissed.
Alastor bowed dramatically.
Too dramatically.
"Your Radiant Majesty of Eternal Illumination and Moral Superiority."
"That's not-"
"I'll shorten it to 'Your Brightness.'"
She exhaled sharply. They could spare a few miles to rest. They had been traveling for days without stopping.
"Fine," Elysium huffed, snapping her reins and galloping down the hill.
They reached a steep cliff. Elysium fought to keep Vail balanced. Each step his hooves took sent rocks crumbling beneath him. Her hands trembled on the reins. Meanwhile, Alastor descended without hesitation, fueled by reckless adrenaline. He looked up at her from the ridge, squinting through the sunrays.
"You coming, Princess?" he smirked.
Elysium waved him off dismissively and gritted her teeth, guiding Vail carefully down the cliffside.
When they finally reached the base, a few miles still separated them from the city border. Elysium let out a sigh of relief as Vail's hooves met grass. The air had grown noticeably colder. Beyond the city loomed the Frostmere Dominion, territory locked in constant winter.
"This had better be worth it," she groaned, rubbing her temple.
Alastor suddenly straightened.
"Something's close," he whispered, drawing his sword. The blade flashed in the sunlight.
Three silhouettes emerged, silently stalking around them and closing in.
The first woman wore a heavy traveler's cloak of charcoal wool that swept the ground, anchored by a mantle of silver fox fur. Beneath it, a quilted gambeson was cinched with overlapping leather belts and utility pouches.
The second woman wore a matte black cuirass etched with swirling silver filigree. A studded cowl shadowed her eyes, and a thick wrap obscured the lower half of her face, leaving only a cold stare visible.
The man, clearly the leader, stepped forward. He wore a forest green and midnight black jacket meant to melt into shadow. A hooded cloak draped over one shoulder to free his sword arm. Crossed leather bandoliers kept throwing knives within easy reach. An iron axe rested in his hand.
Elysium backed Vail up, her body trembling.
"I knew this wasn't a good idea," she muttered.
She glanced at Alastor. He did not look concerned. If anything, he seemed amused, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth. His sword remained low, ready to strike.
Elysium grabbed her bow and nocked an arrow.
"Drop any weapons," she ordered.
The man shook his head.
"Not a chance."
Elysium released. The arrow grazed his hand, sending the axe flying into the grass. His expression faltered as he slowly backed away.
"Please. We just need food," the first woman said, stepping forward, desperation thick in her voice.
A wave of sympathy washed over Elysium. She knew what desperation felt like. She was living it.
"Let me help you," she said, reaching for her bag.
Before she could look up again, the man grunted and collapsed. His face hit the grass as blood pooled beneath him. The women shrieked and fled toward the caverns.
Elysium turned in horror. Alastor stood over the body, his blade dripping red.
"Mercy invites future attacks," he said bluntly, mounting his horse.
Her face burned with anger.
"They were desperate."
"Desperate people are the most dangerous."
When he tugged his reins to continue down the path, Elysium spurred forward and blocked him. His brow arched.
"I will never understand you or your hellish kingdom," she snapped.
Alastor's smile vanished.
"You are such a hypocrite. Alarians are no better. Sanctimonious tyrants."
"Sheolians are monsters who hide behind fear."
They hurled insults back and forth, voices rising.
"Your people burn what they don't understand."
"And yours poison everything they touch."
Emotion surged through Elysium. She fought back tears, turning her head so he wouldn't see.
"After what happened," she began, her voice faltering. "They knew violence wasn't the answer."
"After I almost lost my father!" he shouted.
"At least you still had them!" she cried, then froze.
Alastor's eyes widened. He swallowed hard.
"I-"
"You don't need to say anything."
"You know it was an accident," he said quietly. "It was supposed to bind the kingdoms."
She didn't respond. Instead, she snapped her reins and bolted forward, galloping away. The wind tore through her hair, drying the tears on her cheeks.
Alastor raced after her, kicking his horse into a furious sprint. He came to an abrupt stop when he reached her at the border.
"Christ, Elysium," he muttered. "You could have slowed down."
She ignored him, chin lifted stubbornly.
"Let's just get this over with," she said as they approached the gates.
Iron bars towered overhead. Crows circled above. Lightning cracked across the sky, shadows rippling over the grass.
Alastor guided his horse forward first.
"Here goes nothing," he murmured.