The next morning, Anita dressed in a brown hose with a short green tunic over top, tied with a sturdy leather belt. She attached her small sword and placed her recurve bow over one shoulder and donned her quiver of black fletched arrows. With her long red hair, she made two neat braids and wrapped them around near the back. Anita peered in the mirror and was quite pleased with her appearance. She couldn't wait to use her new bow.
She raced down the steps of their house and made her way to the edge of the forest.
Gerard saw Anita run up, her complexion like new milk aside from her rosy cheeks. She smiled brightly and looked behind him. "Have the Princes come yet?"

Gerard shook his head absently. "It appears they're both late." He chortled. "Even royalty isn't always punctual."

It seemed only seconds after falling asleep that Ronin awoke again to the light of a new day. He judged by the sun's rays glinting through the tree branches that he was late to meet Gerard for the hunt.
Moving quickly, he clothed himself in his usual hunting outfit: a brown shirt over which he wore a dark green jerkin that fell to just above his knees, a pair of green hose---a little loose; they had once belonged to Dorion---and his soft brown leather boots. Around his waist he wrapped his sword belt from which hung his long fighting knife and his hunting knife. Both knives were housed in wooden sheaths that were covered in leather and bore the noble hawk emblem of Hunvel. It was fairly warm so he decided against wearing his cloak. Last of all, he strapped his drawstring quiver full of arrows with goose-feather fletching onto its familiar position on his back. With his yew bow in hand and Kiarton impatiently beating his wings nearby, Ronin climbed down the tree. The bird met him at the bottom, landing lightly on his shoulder.
Rushing off, he found Gerard and Anita waiting at the edge of the forest. He blushed, having forgotten that the gorgeous girl was coming along.
"Good morning," he said, smiling brightly. "Are you ready to go?"

"Indeed, but was your brother not coming?" Suddenly Anita had an irritating thought and her nose wrinkled slightly. "I hope he isn't forced to bring along that wretched girl. Can you believe she called me a coquette?" She asked Ronin earnestly.

Gerard cleared his throat. "So...where's this memorial?"

Dorion woke up early. The sun was not up yet but he felt it could very well be noon. He put on some hunting clothing: tan stockings, a dark blue tunic with silver lining, and his favorite black hunting boots. He pulled out his hunting knife given to him by his father on their first hunt together and his Elven bow. He pulled out some arrows. One was damaged slightly but he put it in anyway.
Very quickly, he ran out the door and to the forest edge where they had decided to meet.
Seeing his brother and his friends, Dorion walked slowly to catch his breathe. He decided to play it cool.
"Well," he said at length, "are we ready to go?" He ignored the fact that his companions were not happy he was late.
Dorion noticed Anita dressed for the event. She's rather done up just to go kill something, he thought. "Like your outfit," he said to her. "It is…fancy." He wasn't sure if fancy was the right word for it but he brushed it off.

Anita laughed. "Fancy? I suppose you could put it that way; it's just brown hose and a green tunic." She readjusted her bow and quiver and looked around. "What's this about a memorial?"

Gerard hated to have to explain it, but his sister's look made him speak. "It's a statue of...Kiarton, our uncle that we never met. He died in battle here."

Anita looked down. "Oh." She looked back up with a solemn face. "At least he died with honor."

Gerard shifted his weight uncomfortably. "So...does anyone remember where it is?" Then a thought came to him. "Ronin, you said it was at the edge of the forest, why don't we go around the wood and once we've found it start hunting?"

"No need to look for it," Dorion said. "If I remember correctly it's," he pointed north, "this way."
He led them into a darker part of the forest where the trees were overgrown and the vines were taking over. He stepped lightly and then stopped.

"There it is," he said in awe.
The statue was not covered in the vines that already consumed the forest floor; one could see they were generously picked away and pruned from the statue.
The statue depicted Kiarton with a lance in hand and his eyes looking up to the sky. An inscription in the base read, "Honor was bestowed on thee, fought for right and the future to be. Kiarton, our loving friend, may the eagles soar with your soul."
Dorion dare not touch the statue because it almost looked like it was alive. "The craftsmanship on this is excellent, I must admit."

Anita sank to her knees in wonder. Gerard gently touched the carved lance. It was made of solid gold. The real lance was certainly somewhere safe, but it looked so real!
Anita, after remaining silent for a minute or two, spoke softly. "I always knew he looked like this." She touched the statue's hand and turned away. "Shall we carry on?"

Ronin's eyes took in the details of the statue from the tip of the lance to the inscription. He had always marveled at the Elven craftsmanship which could make even stone look alive and breathing. When Anita suggested they should carry on, Ronin nodded in agreement and broke his eyes away from the statue to look at her and the others.
"I think we should split up, but stay within a short distance of each other. That way we can surround an animal easier when we come upon it. Anita, you can come with me if you'd like," he said casually, smiling at the ingenuity of his plan.

Gerard hid a smile discretely as Anita's face lit up. "Sure," she said brightly, turning away from the statue of her uncle. "Gerard you can get to know Dorion a little better. I have a bird whistle; I'll blow it when Ronin and I have a clear shot. Gerard has a second whistle. Father made them."

Gerard looked to his sister. "Sounds good. Try to stay in this quarter of the wood, and don't make too much sound."

Anita nodded and knocked an arrow to her bow. "Shall we then?" she asked Ronin with a grin. She barely gave him time to reply, for she was already trotting off into the woods, silent as a doe.

Gerard nudged his friend as Anita strode off. "Nice move." He winked, pulled out his hunting knife, pointed it in a random direction, and said with bravado, "Onward then!"

Ronin followed Anita who had surged ahead before he had a chance to ready himself. He nearly laughed with excitement. Moments later they were immersed in the forest and Gerard and Dorion were out of sight. Well that worked out wonderfully, he thought. As long as we don't meet up later and mistake each other for targets.
With his bow ready and an arrow held to the string, he followed Anita, barely noticing the land around him as he watched her. He smiled as the thought passed through his mind that he had never before met a girl who was so beautiful that she could distract him from hunting.

Dorion laughed as Ronin took off after Anita. My brother likes that girl, doesn't he? he thought to himself. Well, we'll see about that. He decided to let them go out on the first portion of the hunt together, but next time he would play the love card.
"Alright Gerard, lets go." He drew his hunting knife and bow and walked meekly into the forest.
It was a moist day in the depths of the woods. The sun was not able to reach past the large trees, creating a subtle darkness all about them. Dorion could not see his brother or Anita; they had gone west of them.
Dorion had been creeping along for a few minutes when he heard a sudden snap in the brush. He paused, and Gerard did the same. "Is it an animal?" he asked him quietly.

Gerard nodded with glee and took out his bird whistle, blowing it softly. It sounded enough like a bird that the animal ahead of them would not run off.

Laurëa put down her quill and admired the drawing on her lap. She had been sitting on the rather dirty tree stump drawing for the past hour, and now the product of her labors was finished.
It was quiet, sunny mornings like these when her parents were busy that Laurëa would enter the woods, find a place to sit, and draw until the sun was high in the sky. This particular morning, she had walked into a small grove of trees and began to draw, easily but carefully, the graceful aspens that surrounded her. Now she sat with her finished sketch on her lap, the sounds of the forest humming in the trees.
Some years ago, her parents had tried to encourage Laurëa with a hobby of some sort. Singing, dancing, playing the nandellë of Hunvel, none of these received much attention from Laurëa. What did, however, was drawing. She was quite skilled at it too, but hid her talents from most. "It's a peasant's hobby," she remarked once after denying her ability. Laurëa would sit through her lessons every week grudgingly, trying only to please her parents for their efforts, but hated being instructed on how to draw. Skilled artisans needed no instruction from "minstrel peasants," thus named by her. Laurëa preferred doing things her own way.
Such as this quiet morning. Getting up from her tree stump seat, Laurëa dusted off her crimson robes and frowned at the insects that scattered beneath her feet. As she scooped up her things, she suddenly heard a strange bird-like call. Following the call, a twig snapped in the dark trees behind her. Taking a step forward, Laurëa squinted into the darkness.
"Hello?" she called softly. "Is someone there?" A soft whisper followed her inquiry. She could almost make out a figure in the dark...
"Show yourself!" she snapped. She did not want to be snuck up on. When she received no reply, Laurëa took another few steps into the dark trees, extending her hand to keep from bumping into something.
Suddenly, her hand touched something like fabric. Jerking her hand back, Laurëa saw movement right in front of her face. The next thing she knew, she was staring into the blade of a knife that belonged to a dirty, red-headed boy whose face was all too familiar.

Gerard had his knife at the ready, watching Dorion circle around the animal, ready to face a deer. However, he came face to face with death itself---Laurëa. He groaned and dropped his hand to his side. "Not you!" he blurted out. "Anita, Ronin! Come out, it's not a deer, it's a wild boar." He grinned at the disgusted look on Laurëa's face and glanced back at Dorion.

Anita stepped out, bow and arrow still raised. When she saw Laurëa however, she did not put it down. She simply stepped closer. "What would a queen be doing out in the peasants' woods Laurea?

Laurëa glared at the many faces that soon appeared before her, staring back with disgust.

"It's none of your business what I'm doing out here, girl!" Laurëa retorted hotly as she tried to hide her paper and quills behind her back.

Dorion stood back and watched the "children" at play. They all seemed quite disgusted with Laurëa, although he thought she seemed simply misunderstood.
Seeing how no one said any apologies, Dorion said bowing to her, "My lady, we mistook you for prey. We are truly sorry."
He flashed a direct smile at Ronin and looked thoughtfully at Anita. "Women should be treated with respect," he nodded at Anita and caused her to look away.
Dorion knew that his apologies wouldn't heal things over with them, but he felt bold and kind today, in a manner of speaking.

Laurëa looked at the Prince curiously, pursing her lips. After deciding he was not mocking her, the corners of her mouth turned up in a faint smile. "It is good to see that at least one of your company has manners," sneered Laurëa to the red-heads and the other young Prince. "And quite a bit less dirt on his face as well." Admiring the disgusted look that she caused on their dirty faces, Laurëa took a step toward the elder Prince.
"Forgive me, dear Prince," she said in a sickly sweet tone. "I did not mean to interrupt your little 'hunting party'. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall be on my way, leaving you to resume rolling in the mud with the pigs." She bowed curtly and strode off, smirking as she did so.

Ronin watched the scene with disgust. Why would his brother be so kind to that snotty girl? It was as she was walking away that he noticed she was carrying something and trying her best to hide it too.
He moved quickly to step in front of her before she could leave. Plucking the papers from her hand before she realized what he was up to, he held them up for the others to see.
"What have we here? I never thought you to be the artist type," he smiled and flipped through the few papers idly.

Laurëa whirled around as she felt her papers leave her hands. "Give me those!" she screeched. She tried in vain to retrieve her drawings as the rascal Prince flipped through them.

"What I do is none of your business. Return me my things!" she seethed.

Anita looked at the papers amused. "Wow, Laurëa, quite some talent there. And you said it was for the peasants." She was, in fact, deeply offended by Dorion's previous comment toward her, but she kept it discreetly hidden. Her face showed intrigue.

"Isn't it a little dangerous out here, with Authon having returned and all? The daughter of two high ranking friends of the King and Queen might want to take extra precaution. I heard he holds a grudge against the house of Hunvel," she said honestly. "I've heard he's quite dangerous. Take care Laurëa." With that, she curtsied with fluid grace and turned to exit the clearing.
She found a pond a ways off and threw a rock into the water. "And I thought I could trust him," she muttered. "What does he see in her?"

Laurëa watched the girl stomp off with a sneer. Who does she think she is? Suddenly she stopped her efforts of trying to get her papers back from the younger Prince as she took in the girl's words.
"Wait, what did she say? Something about Authon?" she asked of the three youth around her. Ever since she saw the look on her parents' faces when they read that letter posted on their door, Laurëa had tried to pry something out of them. However, her efforts were in vain. Nothing she did could make her parents talk more about this Authon. But the Princes might know... "Well?"

Ronin watched as Anita left. He was tempted to chase after her and apologize for his brother, but he knew that he shouldn't have to excuse something he didn't say.
He made her angry and he ruined my plans! Ronin thought, staring hatefully at his brother, the papers n his hands now forgotten. It's all his fault!
He listened to Laurëa with mild interest, wondering what she was so afraid about and who this Authon was. She seemed to expect an answer from them.
"I haven't heard a thing about this until now," he answered. "But that's to be expected. After all, why inform the younger Prince when he will have no part in it. Dorion, what have you heard?"
The words were stinging and his building hate of his brother's luck and charm had reached a high point.

Dorion turned to his brother to see Ronin full of rage.
"What is this about?" he questioned his young brother.

"Oh, you want to know what this is all about?" Ronin sneered. "You mean to say you didn't intentionally drive Anita away just to make my life more miserable?"
He paused for a moment, letting the words sink in as he studied the expression on his brother's face---calm, though he could see that his outburst had had some affect on his cool.
"Just admit it, Dorion. You live to ruin my existence. The worst part is that you try to be my friend. As if I'm too stupid to see you as the cause of all my problems! And now you've ruined the morning that I planned to spend with Anita, but that's alright and do you know why? Because it's plain to me that she likes you more anyway," he spat the last words out as though they had left a foul taste in his mouth. Shoving past his brother without waiting for a response, he walked away.

Adrenaline rushed all through Dorion and he reacted accordingly. He leaped forward and took his brother down.
"What makes you think it's ok for you to treat me that way?" he fumed. He placed his hands on Ronin's neck, holding him down hard enough not to choke him but to secure him.
"I do not live to ruin you, you ruin yourself by acting like a child!"

Tears, both from anger and the pressure on his throat, filled Ronin's eyes obscuring his vision. He barely heard the words his brother was saying. Thinking fast, he kneed his brother in the stomach and shoved him away.
Pulling himself up, he faced Dorion again. He was ready to fight, but Dorion had recovered quickly and, before Ronin saw it coming, he had thrown the first punch. It landed hard on Ronin's right cheek, causing him to reel away with the sudden pain of it.

Before things could get any worse, Gerard lunged forward to catch Ronin as he fell to the ground. Dorion glowered angrily and Ronin simply hung limply in Gerard's arms.
Gerard held Ronin up and looked angrily at Dorion. "I hope you two are happy! Come on, Ronin, I'm taking you home. Goodbye, your Highness, your Majesty." He nodded to Laurëa, hauled Ronin over his shoulder and carried him off through the forest.