Chapter One
Cold. Endless, frosty, bitter cold.
The Swordmaster adjusted his position on the the saddle of the black-scaled Wyvern, gripping the creature's spiny back ridge with hands that were completely numb from the hour-long flight over the countryside. The crisp breeze ruffled his long green hair, causing it to appear even more messy than it usually was. His coat was wrapped tightly around his body in an attempt to ignore the chill wind that threatened to throw him off the Wyvern's back. One thing he had learned from this was that flying on a Wyvern in cold weather was not a sensible idea. Strangely enough, the cold didn't seem to have any effect on the creature's owner. He could only assume that Haar had been out in this weather so often that he no longer noticed how low the temperature was.
It was, Stefan bitterly thought, very unfortunate that he lived in a desert. He was already missing the warmth of the sun at his back and the feel of the hot sand under his feet. The burning heat of the desert was so different from this place, he was starting to wonder if it was actually possible for the temperature to drop this low.
Obviously it was.
The black-armoured Wyvern Rider turned his head slightly to the left so he could glance over his shoulder at his travelling companion, a movement which also allowed him to see properly out of his one remaining eye. 'Not used to this?' he asked, with the slow, dull voice of somebody who is finding it hard to stay awake.
'The temperatures in the Grann Desert are... quite different from this,' Stefan admitted. He was now wishing he hadn't agreed to go back to Crimea as one of Queen Elincia's soldiers; in fact, he was wondering how he could have been mad enough to agree in the first place. Although Elincia would certainly appreciate having someone as skilled as him in the Crimean Army, the prospect of living constantly in this kind of weather was far from appealing and he was actually considering asking the Wyvern Rider to turn around and fly back to the desert right now.
'...The cold doesn't seem so bad after a while,' said Haar after a pause. 'You'll get used to it. Look on the bright side...' He stopped and gave an enormous yawn. 'At least it's not snowing. It's worse when it snows.'
Stefan was unable to comprehend how it could be any worse than this, but he didn't say anything. After all, Crimea wasn't the coldest country on Tellius and it was somewhat refreshing to get away from the desert for a while.
The flight lasted another hour and the landscape remained the same as before; mostly grass with the occasional tree. It was just as featureless as the Grann Desert. Hopefully, Crimea Castle would be a little more interesting. Or so he hoped. He had only seen it once before and that was some years ago, so the castle might have changed quite a bit since then.
It was difficult to tell how much time has passed when he lived in a desert. The landscape never changed, the temperature never changed, and it was hard to remember whether weeks or months had gone by. If it were not for Haar's almost unchanged appearance, he might have believed that several decades had passed since he last laid eyes on Crimea Castle.
Years, or mere days. It was difficult to tell in the desert, where nothing ever happened apart from the occasional sandstorm.
Well, I do believe things will be more interesting here – even if it's a little too cold for my liking.
Throughout the rest of the journey Haar remained completely silent apart from a yawn every now and then. The slow, steady flapping of the Wyvern's leathery wings was the only sound that could be heard in the frosty morning. Despite his obvious exhaustion – as usual – he never once lost control of the black Wyvern they were sitting on, steering the large beast with the skill and swiftness that was only seen in very experienced Wyvern Riders. He seemed to control the creature while barely twitching the reins, and the Wyvern responded immediately to every command as though they could read each other's minds.
The countryside of Crimea had many interesting landmarks including a snow-topped mountain a few miles south of the castle. The jagged black rock was marked with deep caves and cliffs. Solid ice coated one side of the mountain, dripping with water as it began to melt slowly in the weak winter sunlight.
The magnificent Crimea Castle slowly came into sight as they navigated their way around a mountain. Stefan looked down at the great fortress, still wondering vaguely if he had made the right decision by coming here. It seemed like years ago Elincia had offered to let him join the Crimean Army, and he couldn't entirely remember why he had accepted her offer.
'Down, boy,' said Haar sharply, sounding a little more awake than usual as he flew towards the castle. Had he seen something dangerous? Stefan couldn't help but notice the black Wyvern's agitation as well, as the creature snorted and tossed its head violently, like a horse sensing a predator. Despite the creature's protests, Haar steered it downwards until its feet touched down on the dew-covered grass near the castle's outer gates.
As soon as they landed, Stefan leapt off the Wyvern's back, his feet hitting the ground a little harder than he intended and causing him to stagger slightly. Haar caught his arm before he fell and jumped off the creature's back himself, before glancing upwards at the castle. Stefan followed the other man's gaze and spotted a large black bird the size of a Wyvern perched on the castle roof, watching them with suspicious eyes.
'Naesala,' muttered Haar, ending the word with a deep yawn. 'Wonder what he wants this time?'
'He usually comes here?'
'Sometimes. Apparently, he's acting as Tibarn's messenger, to send letters to the rulers of other countries. Though don't ask me why he'd do that.'
Haar yawned again and leaned back against the Wyvern's side, startling it with his sudden weight. 'Well, you'd better go in,' he said sleepily. 'Elincia doesn't like to be kept waiting. Give me a shout if you need me, but otherwise don't interrupt my nap, I'm exhausted after that flight...'
Stefan had already taken a few steps towards the castle gates when Haar spoke. Glancing back, he realised that the Wyvern Rider seemed to have already fallen asleep, using his steed as a backrest. With a shrug, he wandered over the drawbridge and through the enormous gates. He had stronger hearing than other people, and could already hear the noise within the castle that sounded like the Crimean marketplace on a Sunday morning.
Maybe if I'm lucky, it won't be so cold tomorrow... he couldn't help thinking as he entered the fortress, already hearing the hooves of the Royal Knights' horses as they galloped across the courtyard to meet him.