A/N: Welcome to chapter 3! I must admit, this chapter felt a bit draining... With school getting started again, it was difficult to give this all of my attention. Either way, I hope you enjoy. As always, let me know what you think in the comment box below!


The rest of their journey to the small port town went smoothly. Sara passed the time by gazing at the clouds, finding shapes as they rode. It was relaxing. Today, she wasn't as tense. The nerves of riding had lessened, and she'd grown at least a little more confident. The small victory was comforting, though she was unsure if it was worth how sore her legs were.

As they maneuvered their horses to a small inn just off the shoreline, Sara watched the lazy little port town move about. There were a few fishermen chatting by the docs, others casually strolled down the cobblestone path, while a few went in and out of what Sara could only assume was a market. Her stomach growled at the thought of food that wasn't burned over campfire.

Kassani must've noticed her hungry glance. "We can grab a bite after we've made sleeping arrangements at the inn," she said.

"Some real food will be nice," Sara commented, glancing back on her horse to where Kassani rode behind her. "I think I've had one too many charred rabbits."

Jaron scoffed ahead of them, "I told you, the char adds flavor."

Sara rolled her eyes, despite Jaron being unable to see her reaction. "You're right, it does add flavor. A terribly bitter, dry, burnt flavor," she replied sarcastically, but there was a smile tugging at her lips.

Sara heard Kassani laugh from behind, "It's an… acquired taste," she said playfully.

"Well, then it's one I don't want to acquire," Sara mumbled.

Jaron slowed the groups pace as they approached the inn. Sara looked it over and wondered how often they had visitors here. There was an old wooden sign that was posted in front with worn, carved letters that read, "Fisher's Wharf Inn."Underneath it, she could barely make out the word, "Welcome." If she had to guess, not a lot of new faces came through here.

They all dismounted, and Sara took a moment to gather her courage before widely swinging her leg over Sweet Step's saddle and landing firmly on her feet. She winced as a dull pain shot up and down her legs. Yep,she thought bitterly, I'm definitely sore from riding. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Amose walk into the Inn after saying something to Jaron. Squaring her shoulders, Sara tried her best to walk normally towards the others, but it felt as if she was waddling like an angry, overconfident duckling.

"You didn't fall down this time," Jaron noted as she approached them, referring to her near accident the first time she tried dismounting from Sweet Step.

Sara shrugged, "I'm full of surprises, I guess."

Jaron seemed amused, "You know, given the short time I've known you, I don't doubt that." He pointed his thumb behind him towards the doorway. "Amose is already inside talking to the innkeeper. You can follow him inside. Kassani and I can grab the bags and bring them in."

Sara frowned, "I can help with carrying things."

Jaron shook his head. "Not saying you can't, but you're walking like a newborn colt," he said while walking past her to where Kassani was already tying up the horses. "I figured your legs could use a rest."

Sara's face flushed. He'd noticed, she thought embarrassedly. She glanced down at her wide-footed stance. She wondered if she should play it cool and say it wasn't all that bad, but she already made a fool of herself yesterday for similar reasons, and she had no intention of repeating that mistake. "I-I'll meet you both inside," she said under her breath as she turned and toddled through the inn's entryway.

As she got closer to the counter, she overheard the conversation between the innkeeper and Amose. The innkeeper, who was a small, frail old man, nervously conversed.

"…I-I see… and how many, um, others are with you?" the innkeeper asked with his bony hands nervously wrapping around themselves. He seemed to look anywhere but Amose's face. It was almost funny, next to Amose's tall, broad frame, the man looked nearly infinitesimal.

"Three," Amose responded coolly, "Four of us in total." He seemed annoyed, but his voice remained neutral. She wondered if there was some sort of issue. Perhaps they didn't have enough rooms? Though that would be strange considering how few people she noticed while riding through town.

As Sara got closer, she saw the innkeeper turn to her. When his eyes found hers, they looked relieved. "O-oh! Is this one of your companions?"

She furrowed her brows in confusion and answered for Amose. "Um… I am," she said slowly. While walking to stand next to Amose, she continued glancing strangely at the innkeeper.

Just then, Jaron and Kassani walked in with everyone's bags. "So which rooms are we in, Amose?" Jaron asked, approaching the counter with a smile.

Amose grunted, "Great question."

"O-oh my, uh, my mistake. I was just, you see…" the innkeeper fumbled over his words upon seeing the others enter. He reached for something under the desk and pulled out a chain of keys, "I was just getting the keys!" He took off the first two, "Th-these go to the third and fourth door on your right," he pointed forwards to the stairs behind them, "Upstairs."

Amose uncrossed his arms and reached for the keys on the table. "Thank you," he nodded to the innkeeper and then handed one of the keys to Sara. Finally, the situation clicked in her mind. She took the key gingerly from Amose and turned to thank the innkeeper herself but was unable to. Instead, she only locked eyes with the now guilty looking man before turning away without saying a word.

She watched as Amose moved ahead and grabbed his bag from Jaron while they continued upstairs together. He seemed unfazed, contrary to her own bewilderment.

Sara was aware of the fear and prejudice that some of the Pentarchy had with elves. In smaller towns, such as this one, it was common for a human to have never even seen an elf in their lives (even Sara herself had seen very few and she grew up near the border of Katolis). So, while she was perfectly aware of the tension between the two groups, it was unnerving to witness it. Even after all that happened after the war, this old man was clearly uncomfortable with giving room and board to an elf, even if Amose was a halfling.

Growing up in the orphanage, the only things she heard about elves were from the older kids who would stay up late exchanging stories. They would excitedly whisper about the heroic tales of the elven Princess, the human Prince, and the human King. Or they'd go on to talk about the mysterious lands within Xadia and how magical it all was. None of it was scary or evil. Those stories were reserved for dark magic. To Sara, it seemed as if Elves and Humans were all on the same side, it's all she's ever known.

"Here," Sara snapped out of her daze at the sound of Kassani's voice. "Your bag," she said, offering Sara her belongings.

Sara shook her head. "Right, thanks," she said as she grabbed her bag.

"Lost in thought?" Kassani asked, though the question almost felt rhetorical. It was pretty obvious Sara was distracted.

"Just tired from riding all day," Sara replied in a half-truth. But to be fair, she was exhausted.

Kassani nodded, eyeing the innkeeper behind them for a brief moment before looking back at Sara knowingly. "Me too," she said coyly, turning to follow Jaron and Amose upstairs. Sara pushed her thoughts into the back of her mind and made her way to the rooms.

Once they were all settled, (it was decided that Sara and Kassani share a room while Amose and Jaron share the other after Jaron mentioned something about "bro-time"), Sara flopped backwards on to the bed and let out a long sigh.

"Not that I'm used to luxury," she began, running her hands along the cotton blankets covering the padded bed, "But I've missed sleeping on a bed."

Kassani gave her a funny look, "Hasn't it only been four days since you left your home?"

Sara turned her head to look at Kassani. "Sure, but I wasn't really sleeping on a bed there, it was more like a cot. Which is fine, but when I left the orphanage, the last thing I expected to miss were those old beds we slept on."

A pained look crossed Kassani's face, and for a moment, Sara wondered if the woman was pitying her. A sour feeling twisted in Sara's stomach at that thought; the last thing she wanted was pity.

"I get it… You know, I used to live in an orphanage, too." Kassani finally said.

Sara shifted upwards on her bed, propping herself on her elbows. "Really?" she asked.

Kassani nodded. "A different orphanage, probably, but I remember those beds," she recalled with a hint of a smile, "They were not comfortable if my memory serves me well."

Sara scoffed, "They're better than the floor, that's for sure."

"Barely," Kassani laughed. "Then again, I was adopted into a wealthy family, so my only comparison may be a bit unrealistic. I remember being so awed by the capitol city when I first arrived, and the plush beds were a definite improvement."

"Pff," Sara puffed, "Must be nice. The place they sent me was far from that." She fell back onto the bed with a huff. "Even if I don't find my family in the capitol, I might just stay there. You guys are making it sound pretty nice."

"King Ezran does his best to maintain prosperity. The capitol is a good reflection of that," Kassani says thoughtfully, "I'm sure you'd be welcomed."

Sara imagined herself in her own home. A crackling fire and sounds of laughter. Books lining the walls, red and gold tapestry hanging around every corner. She could picture two people walking down a long hall, hand in hand. Sara frowned, a strange emotion bubbling in her chest. This home of hers was nothing more than a dream, but there was such a potent familiarity to it.

But that'd be ridiculous.

She shook her head, trying to stop her brain from overthinking. Looking for a distraction, she moved the conversation forward. "Have you met King Ezran before?" She asked.

Kassani hummed, "Several times. Sometimes King Ezran attends the Crown Guard assemblies, so I've seen him there and spoken with him. Though, I'd be surprised if His Majesty remembers me. Jaron, on the other hand, knows the King personally."

"Well sure, he probably has to give King Ezran reports and all that, right?" Sara shrugged, stretching her arms above her head and yawning.

"He does, but that's not why. Jaron's practically a part of the royal family," Kassani explained. Sara did a double take at Kassani, wondering if she'd heard correctly. Kassani, however, continued as if she'd said nothing strange at all. "His father is Soren, General of the Crown Guard, the same man who fought side-by-side with Lady Rayla, Prince Callum, and King Ezran during the war." Kassani's voice fell to a low whisper, "Rumor has it, he's in line for the throne."

At that, Sara blanched. "He's WHAT!?" she exclaimed but was quickly hushed by Kassani. "He's what!?" she tried again, hissing under her breath this time.

"It's just a rumor," Kassani put up her hands defensively.

"Isn't there some prince or princess or whatever to take the throne? A royal nephew, even?" she asked, her head spinning over the thought of Jaron being an important member of the Royal family—let alone in line for the throne. She wasn't sure why the thought made her feel so uneasy, but it did.

Perhaps it was because she had been shamelessly making fun of him since they'd met.

"His Majesty hasn't married, and Lady Rayla and Prince Callum never had another child after the loss of their daughter. Jaron's the closest thing to a 'royal nephew,' so people have speculated that he's next in line." Kassani's brow furrowed thoughtfully, "But I don't think he's too keen of the idea."

Not too keen? Why not? Sara wondered. "Not that I'm advocating he should be King one day, but wouldn't it be a great honor to become the next royal bloodline?" Sara asked curiously, "Why wouldn't he be grateful for it?"

Kassani shrugged, "I'm guessing royalty isn't as luxurious as some may assume, and Jaron seems to have a bad taste for it." Kassani looked to her hands that were folded in her lap. Sara could tell there was more to it than simple apprehension.

"Bad taste?" Sara asked, leaning forward.

Kassani hesitated for a moment before looking up and meeting Sara's eyes. "He was there the night the princess was stolen from the castle," Kassani said lowly, "That was a dark day for everyone in the castle."

"Oh," Sara breathed, imagining the terror that must've consumed the castle that night. Jaron would have just been a kid. And to lose someone he was close to in a single night… Wait. "Was he close with the princess?" She asked curiously.

Kassani shrugged, leaning back against her bed. "I don't know, I've never asked. If I had to guess, considering how close he is with the royal family, I can only imagine he and the princess were at the very least friendly with one another."

The imagine of a younger Jaron flashed through her mind. He had shorter hair with rounder eyes and cheeks, playfully wielding a wooden sword. Next to him, a girl. Why was it so easy to imagine? She saw them playing hide and seek in the castle, twisting around corners and racing down halls to escape their responsibilities. If she didn't know any better, she could've sworn she was the one running down those hallways. Don't be stupid, she chastised herself. Was she really so deprived for a family connection that she was actually inserting herself into Jaron's childhood? One that she was obviously not a part of?

She needed help. Or sleep. Or both.

A knock sounded at the door. "Ready for food?" a voice called from behind it. It was Jaron.

"Speak of the devil," Sara mumbled as Kassani stood up to open the door. She ran a hand down her face. Food might help her too; hunger did strange things to the brain, after all.


"Just another day and we'll arrive in Braedon, General," one of the Sunfire guards announced, signing clumsily while walking up to Amaya. Technically she was "Queen Amaya," but she refused to use the title after her marriage to Queen Janai. With much convincing to the entire Sunfire Guard, they had all settled for addressing her as General.

Amaya nodded, thanking the guard as the elf turned to leave. She was standing alone, a few yards away from the rest of the group.

The long days of travel had made her feel sore. Though she hated to admit it, she wasn't as sturdy as she once was. These types of trips were becoming more and more difficult to do. She cherished her time in Katolis when she visited, but she wasn't sure how many more of these trips she had in her. Soren seemed to be handling the Crown Guard perfectly, so she had nothing to be concerned with there. This meant, of course, that other than being able to see her lovely nephews, the only purpose she had in traveling to Katolis was nothing more than superficial diplomacy.

Perhaps she should discuss this with Janai when she returned.

Suddenly, the cool evening air swept up, causing a chill to run down Amaya's spine. She frowned, moving her hand to hover over her sword as she scanned the area. She felt as if someone was watching her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow move behind the trees. She unsheathed her sword and waved to get her party's attention. The guards all grabbed their weapons and looked around carefully.

Check in the trees, she signed, gesturing towards the direction of the shadow she saw. Her sword felt heavy in her hands and she struggled to grab her shield. It may be a bear, she tried to rationalize, but something within her disagreed. This wasn't a bear.

She saw one of the guards step into the denser wooded area, behind the brush where she had seen the shadow. A few seconds ticked by before she saw the leaves rustle and the guard was running back towards their camp, a terrified look on his face. Amaya could barely make out the word "monster" from his lips as he ran.

She rushed over as quickly as she could, her shield raised and eyes alert to any danger, the rest of the guards did the same. From out of the woods, a black creature emerged. It had glowing purple eyes and its body looked as if it were made from black flames. It seemed to snarl at them as it stalked forward.

A different guard stepped forward, slashing through the creature with their sword, but to no avail. The sword swiped clean though, but the creature remained unharmed.

Panicked, the rest of the party charged forward and tried to attack the beast, but no one was able to do any damage. Their weapons had no effect.

It's a creature made from Dark Magic, she reckoned, remembering how Callum once blew a pack of these monsters away with a spell. Of course, neither she nor her party knew any wind magic, so she looked around in search of an alternative plan while the guards tried to fend off the creature.

Her eyes landed on their campfire. She ran towards it and grabbed a stick burning at the end. Wielding the make-shift torch, she approached the beast and swung the flame towards it. It ducked away and took a few steps back, avoiding the fire. Amaya smirked, thinking she had it beat. It must be scared of light, she thought.

But as soon as she brought the torch back to her side, the monster leaped forward and dissipated into smoke, filling her lungs. Amaya heaved and coughed, spluttering helplessly. She collapsed forward, barely having enough time to stop her fall with her hands. She gasped for air, trying to focus all her attention on regaining her breath. As her vision blurred and she fell to the ground, she knew she didn't have much time before she would pass out. She limply held up her hands and tried to sign, "dark magic," but her fingers went numb. The last thing she saw was one of her guards grasping her shoulders, trying to keep her awake.


With a full stomach, Sara sighed contently while she walked a few paces behind the rest. Their footsteps clunked over the wooden pier and she could overhear the lull of the water below her feet. She hadn't been to the ocean before, but she found it relaxing. Once she got used to the smell of fish, that is.

Over dinner, they discussed further plans for their journey. From the looks of it, they would be able to set sail tomorrow morning. Across the way there was a large port town called Braedon where they would stop to get supplies. Jaron mentioned something about getting a change of clothes. If they were to have an audience with King Ezran, they needed to look presentable. "He won't care," he had said, "But the rest of the staff may make a fuss if we don't at least try to look nice."

The idea of shopping was daunting to Sara. She hadn't really shopped before. Her entire life she'd been given clothes and she just gratefully accepted them. The idea of picking something out for herself was… different, let alone picking out something nice enough to wear in front of a King. Still, she would be lying if she said she didn't find the idea a little bit exciting, even if she was nervous.

She glanced to her left to look off the pier. The moon shimmered in delicate lines of silver across the salty water. The way the light reflected off the surface was serene. It made her excited for their upcoming voyage across the inlet. She had never been on a boat before, but it must be thrilling if just watching the water from the land was this breathtaking.

"So, how do you like the ocean?" she heard Jaron ask her. With a start, she turned sharply to find him walking in stride with her, Amose and Kassani a few paces ahead of them now.

"Um," Sara began, finding her voice. Jaron was looking past her at the ocean. She sighed, returning her gaze to the water for a moment. "It's beautiful," she admitted, turning back towards him.

She watched as his gaze shifted to hers and he smiled, "My mother used to love the ocean," he said, "At least, that's what Dad says."

There was a dull sense of longing in his words, but the grief felt old and weathered. "I can see why she did, it's almost mesmerizing," she responded, listening to the way the water lapped against wood. "Your mother… did you lose her when you were young?" she asked.

Jaron nodded, "When I was a few seconds old, actually. She died in childbirth. I didn't get to know her, but Dad would tell me lots of stories while I was growing up. He's such a sap," he said with a low chuckle. "I'm grateful for it, though."

"You grew up in the castle, right?" Sara asked, trying to act as if curiosity wasn't getting the best of her. It shouldn't matter if Jaron was basically royalty, but she really wanted to know. She told herself it wouldn't change their friendship, though that was probably overly optimistic. She clutched her pendent nervously. She didn't even have a family… and she expected to maintain her silly friendship with (potentially) a future King?

Jaron eyed her suspiciously. "…I did…" he said cautiously. He crossed his arms and playfully bumped her with his shoulder. "If you're looking for information on the secret passages, you're not getting anything out of me," he said, "I've been sworn to secrecy by the King himself."

Sara rolled her eyes, her nervousness momentarily forgotten. She tried to hide her smile, lest he get too much reward for his teasing. "I was just wondering what that was like, is all. I mean, growing up in the King's castle? Must've been pretty cushy," she explained. "I assume you're close with the Royal family, too." She was glancing at him out of the corner of her eye now.

Jaron frowned, "It was, and I am." He turned to her and crossed his arms. "Where are you going with this?" he asked, his posture stiffening.

Where am I going with this? I just wanted to know if—Oh. Sara paled and realized how fishy her comment sounded. Jaron probably thought she was asking for money or political power like some kind of gold-digger. "Oh god no," she shook her head swept her hand out in front of her in a cutting motion. "Nonono, I'm not—I'm—I'm not looking for your money or anything, I swear!" She looked to find him staring at her with a single eyebrow raised. "I…I was just, um… curious," she finished lamely.

He looked at her with a mixture of amusement and wariness. "Uh huh. And what are you curious about? The daily routine of the castle? The schedule of the guards outside the castle gates? Because that would seem a bit suspicious," he said teasingly. Though Sara wondered if he was fully teasing.

She groaned and tried to come up with an excuse. "I'm just… trying to have simple conversation," she said vaguely. "Besides, doesn't everyone dream about growing up in castle? About being a prince or princess?" she asked, trying to brush off his concern.

"Did you?" he asked, mischief reflecting in his eyes.

Sara felt her face heat up in embarrassment. Yes. Yes, I did, she thought bitterly. "You know what, I regret even bringing this up," She mumbled, crossing her arms with a huff.

Jaron laughed, "I'm sorry, but you do realize how weird your question sounded."

Sara tugged her hood over her head, "Yeah, well, I do now." With her hood on, Jaron was completely out of her peripheral, but she could feel him staring at her.

After a brief pause, and a bit more laughing, Jaron continued. "Well, to answer your question again, yes. I grew up in the castle with my Dad. He was a bit busy leading the Crown Guard when I was younger, so I was practically raised by the castle's staff," he recalled fondly. "I used to get into a lot of trouble when I was younger. I'd escape tutoring, sneak through hidden passages, play hide and seek… normal kid stuff, really," He sighed wistfully.

Once again, Sara could feel his eyes on her. When she dared to meet his gaze, she was surprised to see hesitancy in his eyes. Or maybe it was disbelief? Though it seemed crazy, he looked as if he was questioning her very existence. Like he expected her to disappear off the face of this earth. Her cheeks felt warm.

She turned away as he cleared his throat. "Of course," he led on, his tone dipping lower, "A lot of that had to change when the Princess disappeared. The staff became a little stricter, some of the passages got boarded up, and, obviously, it's hard to play hide without a friend."

Sara didn't dare look at him again. "You and the princess were close, then?"

Jaron nodded, "We were the only kids around, so it was hard not to be friends."

"No other kids, really?" she asked, surprised.

"Nope. Just us. We even took our studies together, and she would always get in trouble for zoning out. Whenever I would catch her staring at the wall, I'd reach over and—"

Sara felt a finger prod at her left-side shoulder and her head swung to find nothing there except the ocean.

Jaron cackled at her right, "Ha! Exactly that," he grinned as she turned to glare playfully at him. "Her eyes would always get really wide, terrified that it was the tutor about to scold her again."

Sara rolled her eyes, "How kind of you," she said sarcastically. "As someone who is prone to zoning out, I know first-hand how rude of an awakening that would be," She laughed lightly. "You know, you're really good at telling stories," she admitted, keeping her eyes glued to the dock below her feet. "You make me feel as if I were there too." And it was true. Perhaps it was her overactive imagination, but everything he had said she could vividly picture.

Jaron smiled and tilted his head curiously at her, "You know, when we first met, I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew you from somewhere. I think it's because you remind me a lot of her."

Sara's eyes widened. "Of the princess?" She asked, flattered at the comparison. Their footsteps began to slow as she and Jaron came to a stop. They were just outside the inn now and Amose and Kassani had already disappeared inside. The ocean breeze picked up suddenly and Sara reached to keep her hood from blowing off, but as she reached up, she felt Jaron's hand gently pull it downward.

She looked to find Jaron looking carefully at her. There was something behind his eyes that made Sara want to search them and find what was hiding. But as she did, they softened, and he smiled gently.

"Saraiah," he said, barely above a whisper.

Saraiah? Something deep within Sara felt like it was waking up. As if that name, and the way it fell from his lips, held everything.

"Her name was Saraiah," he repeated, carefully letting go of her hood.

She never knew the princess' name; it was never shared after her tragic disappearance. While some knew it, uttering it was all but considered taboo. She always wondered if it held some kind of power over people, some kind of magic that would enchant whoever heard it. Perhaps she was right because here she was, hearing it for the first time, and it seemed like the world around her disappeared.

It felt magical.

"—Jaron," Sara jumped at the sound of Amose's voice. Jaron tore his eyes away from her own to find Amose standing in the entrance of the inn. "You have the key," he said, holding out his hand.

Jaron searched his pockets and pulled out an iron key, dangling it in front of him. "Of course! Sorry, we were just on our way up," he said, turning to her and smiling. "We should rest tonight. Tomorrow's another day of traveling."

Sara nodded numbly, reality finally creeping back into her bones. "R-right," she mumbled, forcing herself to move forward. She brushed past Jaron and slid around Amose while looking apologetically at him. "Sorry for making you wait," she said as she moved past him. Behind her, she heard him grumble something along the lines of "no problem."

She moved quickly up the stairs, pausing at the top to glance back. Jaron, now standing next to Amose, was watching her curiously. "Goodnight," she said quietly, waving at the two of them.

Jaron flashed her a smile, "Goodnight, Sara. Rest up," he threw her a thumbs-up as she turned away and retreated into the room she shared with Kassani.

Saraiah, she repeated to herself. The name felt easy, like a balm to her heart. What a wonderful name.


Jaron: u hella sus, girl