Hurk makes it halfway back to town when the magic wears off. He jumps off of Theo just as the horse starts to glow and drags the stallion into the woody thicket in time as the light fades. Theo, now a puppy, barks happily and licks Hurk's face when he crouches down with his arms held out. Hurk's now back in his leathery rags, but he's still relatively clean.
"Come on, Theo." Hurk rubs the puppy's ears a few more times before getting back on his feet. "Let's get back before stepmother realizes we've been out."
Hurk sets out on a jog, the puppy racing ahead of him, and he makes it back to the cottage with ample time to scrub his face and hair with some dirt to look appropriately dirty and grabbed the chopping axe. He set to chop some wood for the stove and had gotten a fair amount done when he heard the front door slam open and the shrill harping of his stepmother and stepsisters.
Hurk walked into the cottage and casually placed the axe next to the fireplace. Hurk turns to Nel with a smile on his face, "How was the Ball?"
Seanna wails like a child and stomps over to the kitchen table, kicking up a fuss unbecoming of a young woman. "I didn't even get to see the Prince! No one even knew if he had attended at all! I had to dance with some old coot named Laurys! Eugh!"
"I met Riordan." Nel has a dreamy look on her face and she giggles into her gloved hand, "He was such a gentleman, but he couldn't dance. He tried, though, for me."
The stepmother's fuming as she tears off her powdered wig and throws it at Hurk, who catches it with fumbling fingers. "Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Prepare hot baths for all of us!"
Hurk scurries off to collect the metal tubs and the firewood. Once he's outside in the cold winter air, he allows a small, fleeting, smile to take over his face for a brief moment.
Several weeks later.
Hurk's been incredibly busy as of late, sharpening speartips and chainhooks at the Forge while Ferghus toiled over a wicked-looking, custom-ordered longsword for an important person. Ferghus is whistling a merry tune, an old habit his, as the constant noise of metal scraping over metal and the rings of the hammer working over a strong piece of steel fill the smithy.
Ferghus stops whistling for a moment, and Hurk looks up. "Hey, kid, did'ya know that the Royals are coming to visit today? Something 'bout the owner of an earring or whats-it that the Prince's looking for. Err, something like that. You know I'm not much for gossip."
"Hmm." Hurk keeps his face disinterested, but his heart was starting to race nerviously. "Doesn't really mean anything for us, right? Well, besides cleaning up a bit and maybe looking a little less dirty for a few hours."
"Meh. I don't get them Royals." With that, Ferghus continued to whistle his merry tune and the smithy was again filled with only the sounds of hammering and scraping.
"Ferghus!" A young woman, Aislinn if Hurk's memory served correctly, burst into the smithy with a panicked look on her face and out of breath.
"Aislinn! Lass, what's going on?" Ferghus set down his hammer, worry and concern clear on his face.
Aislinn looked over her shoulder fearfully. "There's been sighting of huge army of gnolls coming down the south path! Ah! I need to warn Clodagh and Fenella!"
Hurk got up from his seat, his heart now racing from an entirely different reason. Ferghus reached for the greatsword sitting in the corner of the forge and turned to Hurk, holding the massive sword out like an offering. "I'm getting Aodhan and Marrec from the corn fields. Don't do anything too stupid, kid, but try and hold them off 'till I get reinforcements."
Hurk took the proffered greatsword, the heavy weight comfortable in his strong grip, and followed Ferghus outside, the door to the smithy swinging closed behind them.
The Prince's Personal Assistant, Lann, sighed and refrained from face-palming. Sometimes, he hated dealing with peasants - and then, he remembered that he technically was one. "Miss, I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do. We're looking for a man, not your daughters."
The woman made a strangled noise before inclining her head begrudgingly. "Well, then, sir. I have no son. I apologize for this... scene."
The woman was clearly furious beyond measure, but said nothing more. One of the younger girls – her daughters, Lann supposed – a blonde, standing behind her spoke up, "Mama, but what about–"
The woman shushed her, but Lann was pretty sure he knew what the girl was going to say. Impatiently, he bit out, "So, you do, in fact, have a son?"
"... I have a stepson." The woman's sour face was incredibly repulsive. "But he's not the one you want. He didn't even go to the Ball."
Lann threw a glance over his shoulder at the Royal Carriage. He really hoped that this search would end soon, as his Lord, the Prince of Erinn, was not known for his patience.
"Well, I still have my orders. Bring him." Lann idly drummed his fingers on the hilts of his twin swords, but the sound of pounding footsteps made him look over to the road. A middle-aged man, a blacksmith judging from the burns on the man's apron, was sprinting down the road. Once the man reached them, he doubled over on with his hands on his knees, breathing hard. Was there trouble afoot?
Lann took a step forward, worried. "Good sir, what seems to be the matter?"
"Ferghus, what's happening?" The woman looked concerned and her daughters huddled closer behind her.
Ferghus took in a few heaving breaths. "There's... gnolls... big ones... south of here... I need.. to warn..." The man took off again, heading towards the corn fields where some of the men of the town were working in.
Lann turned to the woman and her daughters. "Please, get you and your daughters to a safe place." For once, the woman was cooperative as she hustled her daughters back towards the cottage.
Lann walked over to the carriage and knocked on the door. The flap over the window fluttered a little. "My Lord, there's news of a gnoll raid happening right now. Shall we leave, or...?"
The carriage door creaked open and Prince Kai emerged, squinting at the sunlight and fully equipped with his royal knight armor and dreamwalker longbow. "We stay and fight."
One of the woman's daughters, the darker haired one, swooned ridiculously as she was shuffled into the house by the woman. Lann sighed and unsheathed his twin swords. "Of course, my Lord."