Lucen stepped back, the crisping sound of the burnt grass cracking beneath his feet filled the clearing.
His voice failed to find him, and the nerves began to creep in at their hostile gazes.
The girl stepped forward, her hair was silky black, and their eyes were a pale grey colour that Lucen found interesting.
"My apologies, sir, but who are you?"
He didn't answer, more due to his nervousness than the fact that he was thinking up a fake name.
"He's a Lightcloak, my lady," said one of the guards, "a half-blood by the looks of it."
"Lucen," he decided. "May I ask why your swords are pointed at me?"
The burnt field remained silent, only filled by the strong winds scattering Lucen's hair.
The girl searched his eyes for something, then she spoke hesitantly.
"My apologies, we had no clue of your high station. My name is Aya. It is the greatest honour of my life to meet you."
The guards exchanged quick, meaningful looks with Aya before lowering their weapons and joining her to bow and salute him.
Lucen scratched his jaw awkwardly.
"It's an honour to meet you too."
"We are travellers on our way to the Castaway Valley," she explained. "It is, too, my understanding that the Grey Keep is not far from it. Would you mind guiding us?"
Lucen glanced at the swords at their hips and remained silent.
"Follow me then," he finally said, "but I hope you won't mind if I keep my distance?"
Soon after carving out the eyes of the Lurker hounds, they left the blackened clearing and waded back through the tall grasses.
Lucen couldn't help but glance sideways every once in a while; the grass was as tall as their heads, but he could still barely make them out.
They had kept their swords raised even after learning he was a Lightcloak. They were very untrusting of people and rich by their clothes and armour.
Nobles leaving their lives behind for Castaway Valley was the first thing he assumed, but something about their distrust…
"Lord Lucen, how are things at the Keep?" Aya asked, her voice hidden between the grass. "Has the Sea of Light returned from his journey into the void?"
Alger? Why did she want to know that?
"They're alright," he answered simply.
"Your skill with the spear is legendary," said Aya, "like that of the Fisher or the Blackbane. I was mesmerised by how vicious your strikes were."
"High praise—of which I am not deserving—thank you, Lady Aya."
Her little conversation continued for a long time, each question sending needles into his skin. He rather disliked his voice, and, though he repeated words as Master Warren had taught, they sounded wrong coming from his mouth.
Finally, the grass receded, and the high peaks of the Grey Keep were visible. The entirety of Castaway Valley spread beneath their feet.
"Why were you out there alone?" Aya asked, her eyes taking in the city below—a mournful light in them.
"Like your guard said," Lucen responded, "I'm half-blood."
She turned to him, her eyes like drops of silver in the golden light of the halo, smiling.
"I hope we may meet again."
Meeting her eyes was too uncomfortable, so Lucen stared up at the Grey Keep, shining against the Void.
He opened his mouth to say something, but decided to just start walking.
Aya watched him shrink into the distance, his blonde hair and black cloak blowing in the strong winds.
"May god give you strength," she whispered.
■——■
On his journey back to the castle, Lucen wrestled with today's events. Things just seemed to get worse and worse.
First, Lost Wind had given him a vague quest he suspected was a trap. Now, Aya had set off even more alarm bells in his head.
Three months…
One day had been enough for so much to go to shit, what was building up in the shadow? An assassination or some political drama.
He turned in the direction he had met Aya, trying to discern where they could have been coming from. Their clothes were nondescript, and their accents were similar to his.
A strange calm fell over him as he crossed the high, black gates of the Grey keep. He didn't like feeling secure in the house of his oppressors.
Soon, he was at Liam's stall, hoping to get some food since dinner wouldn't be ready yet. Liam's head of mousy brown hair rose from under the counter with a heavy pot, his blue eyes shone as Lucen came into view.
"Let me guess, things got worse," said Liam, laughing till he saw Lucen's grim expression. "Seriously? You might have to stop leaving the Keep at this rate."
Once Lucen told Liam the entire story, however, he seemed calmer.
"Castaway has loads of stories about runaway princesses. I'm probably half royal on my nan's side."
Lucen shook his head.
"The way they reacted to me at first—they knew I was a Lightcloak. They're hiding something." Lucen said, stabbing his fork into his fruit bowl aggressively.
"I don't know, man. We already have a pretty huge problem," Liam sighed. "You can try and get their names at the Garrison tomorrow. But honestly, you should report this to your dad."
The thought of Mesthor put a bitter taste in his mouth, but he kept it to himself. He rose and bid Liam farewell.
"Let me tell my mother I've returned early, I'll spend some time here—call for me if anything happens with the sage or your mom gives you a day off."
■——■
After meeting his mother in the library, Lucen marched through the Grey Keep's high and long corridors. He hoped to do some channeling before he slept.
He paused as he reached the great wooden door to his room. Two giant knights in red armor were stationed there to open the door as usual.
But also there was Ymir, his half-sister, sitting on one of the stone benches carved into the wall. Her long black hair trailed over her back, and her golden eyes were fixed on him.
He moved to meet her as she rose. They both gave each other a firm nod and casual salute.
Lucen scratched his chin, wondering what to say, and why she was here. Under her arm was a large board with black and gold designs. A Highcraft board?
Ymir was smiling stiffly, and noticed his gaze. She presented the beautifully made board to him, and said.
"I was wondering if we could play a game."
He nodded slightly, and they both entered Selene's room as the two knights pushed open the door. He went to get her some tea as she set up the board.
"You and your mother still share the same bed?" she asked.
Lucen flushed a little. "I sleep on the couch when she gets annoying."
He set the tea down and eyed the board. A black and gold grid similar to a chess board. He once thought Highcraft was a more complicated version of chess, but it was actually easier.
There were three ways to win Highcraft, unlike Chess. One, Commander capture, was to take the enemy commander, the other, Field domination, was to control more of the board than your opponent till the decided end of game time.
Then the third, Attrition victory, which Lucen always aimed for, was a deadlock. Both sides controlled fifty percent of the board till the game ended. Being able to win in more than one way made the game much easier.
They picked their usual commanders and started the game quickly. The style of Highcraft you play relies on the commander.
Steel commander, Lucen's favourite, played a style called Attrition, which obviously played for an attrition victory.
Ash commander, Ymir's favourite, played a style called Siege, which tried to win by field control. Break the enemies lines, take out their healers and army camps, and then win.
There were three other styles—Skirmish, Faithlock and Trap—but neither of them played those styles. Skirmish was too fast, and Lucen always fell into traps.
Ymir used to play Faithlock a lot as a kid, but Lucen got so good at Attrition that she started playing Siege more because it was the most effective style to counter Attrition.
"How long are we playing?" Lucen asked. "I'd like to get some sleep before my mom gets back."
"We'll play twenty minutes, even though you'll probably win," she replied, smiling. "I wanted to talk to you about something that will happen tomorrow."
He raised and eyebrow, and Ymir continued.
"Set will do his best to challenge you to a duel. I want you to not accept."