Ser Xaxeras

He must have combed his facial fur at least a hundred times before he thought he was ready to see her. His only task was to send Dalaris her breakfast and be gone from her chambers. Jon advised speaking to her until they knew they were ready to go through with the plan. There were a thousand things that could go wrong with this plan. For one, what if they were playing into her trap? What if she did not have feelings for him? She could have been using her feminine wiles to seduce Ser Xaxeras into a way that would help her escape and return to Naralia.

"But what if her feelings are true?" Ser Xaxeras said, staring at himself in the looking glass hung on the wall. "If Dalaris finds out I'm only using her love for me just for the benefit of my Lord Princes, I could lose her. I've never had anyone feel this way about me before."

"Love is a very complicated thing, Ser Xaxeras," Summer said, cooking Dalaris' porridge over a gas-powered stove. Her voice reverberated in the big chamber. "A woman's heart is like the very mountain outside."

Ser Xaxeras looked out the window and saw the mountain range towering over the pine forests.

"As you trek the bottom, it's soft and easy," she explained. "You think you have a chance and you climb higher."

"And as you do," Ser Xaxeras continued, "it gets rougher and more dangerous. She might push you off and let you fall to an agonizing death."

"Exactly," said Summer. She tapped the wooden spoon on the rim of the cooking pot to shake off an excess porridge. "I've made those buttered biscuits you asked. They're in a basket by the counter over there."

"Thank you," said Ser Xaxeras, stalking for the counter where Summer left the biscuits. He lifted the purple handkerchief that covered the basket and got of a whiff of the sweet scent the treats gave off. Ser Xaxeras licked his chops. His whiskers shivering with curiosity as he picked one up and ate it.

"Mmm," he said, savoring the flavor. "Your biscuits are so divine, Lady Summer."

"Thank you," Summer said, cleaning the wooden spoon.

Ser Xaxeras ate another one. And another. And another. And another. "Hopefully I can show her I mean well when I bring her these."

"Not if you eat them all, you won't," laughed Summer. "Boy, oh boy, Ser Xaxeras. You are in love."

Ser Xaxeras nodded his head. His mouth was sprinkled with crumbs. "Yes, she may be our enemy, but she is a lady." He balled his fists. "A lady, indeed. No. No. She could never want me." He ran a paw down his mane. "She's so beautiful and…. well look at me!"

"What?" Summer asked, crushing a few oranges for their juices.

"I'm a monster!" Ser Xaxeras said, looking out the window in shame.

Summer laughed, pouring the juice she collected into a pitcher. "I don't think you're a monster, Ser Xaxeras. Don't be so silly. Avi doesn't think you were a monster. I don't think you're a monster. And if Dalaris is becoming so amorous of you, I'm pretty sure she doesn't think so, either."

"But what if…"

"Ser Xaxeras," Summer interrupted. "What ifs are not going to get you far. In the end, they're going to do more harm than good. What ifs are the poison of love. The more you ingest, the sicker you will be. You have to be calm and just go for it. A broken heart can heal. An unsure one will be in agony forever."

"R-right," said Ser Xaxeras.

"Come," said Summer. "Give the Dragonslayer her breakfast, and just talk to her. Don't worry, I'll keep Jon occupied." She gave him a wink. "He owes my rump a massage in the hot springs."

Ser Xaxeras laughed. "And they call me the animal." He picked up the tray containing the heavy breakfast. For good measure, Dalaris added a rose on a vase, placing it on the corner of the tray.

"I..uh…" the wolfman stuttered.

"Trust me," Summer said, patting his wrist. "She's gonna love it. Go, your lady is waiting for you. You're a knight, remember. Save her from her loneliness."

"I will, Summer," said Ser Xaxeras. "Thank you."

Ser Xaxeras made an uneasy trip to the top of the castle. Thankfully, he did not run into any of Jon's sisters, for they were in the courtyard training. At last, he made it to the tower where Dalaris was kept prisoner. He set the tray down on a table by the door and knocked.

"Who is it?" Dalaris answered immediately.

"It is I, Ser Xaxeras. I have your breakfast."

"Ah!" Dalaris squealed. "My knight in shining armor. Come in. Come in."

Ser Xaxeras took the tower key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. The room smelled unnaturally sweet and it was warm, very warm. Dalaris was dancing in the center of the room, wearing a black bathrobe that stopped at her thighs.

"Dalaris?" Ser Xaxeras asked, hand quivering. "Why are you wearing that?"

"It's almost time for my bath," Dalaris answered, bowing and then giving a twirl to continue her dance. "I'm waiting for the water to heat up. You can set my breakfast by the table, darling."

Ser Xaxeras gulped seeing the tub with a small furnace underneath glowing red with hot coals.

"Who prepared it for you?" Ser Xaxeras asked. He looked in the water. Lemon slices, and rose petals floated in the milky surface.

"Jon's sister, Astrid did," Dalaris answered, she leapt and gave an elegant spin. "She's such a cutie and a sweetheart. All his sisters are to be honest. They've done what they could to keep me comfortable. Although, Berja females are very big girls. The clothing they gave barely fits."

"Why are they giving you their clothes?" Ser Xaxeras asked.

"I left my things in the Naralian camp." Dalaris bowed. "Too bad. My favorite clothes were in the tent." She stopped her dance and proceeded to the table where Ser Xaxeras left the food. "Oh, this looks so good," she said. She gasped when she saw the rose. "Is this for me?" She picked it up and sniffed it. "Ser Xaxeras, I'm touched."

She leapt for him and wrapped her arms over his big torso. Ser Xaxeras went limp like the tall pines outside.

"I…uh…I brought you some extra food," he said patting her head. "I find it unfair that Jon forces you to eat only porridge. Lady Summer made you a basket of biscuits, at my request. It would be best not to speak of this to anyone. Summer and I could get in a lot of trouble with Jon."

Dalaris looked up at him, teary-eyed. "I've never had anyone risk their neck for me before," she said. "Thank you."

She let him go and sat by the table to eat her food. "This looks good," she said. She picked up a biscuit and ate it. "Mmm, it's amazing. So fluffy and sweet."

"Dalaris," said Ser Xaxeras. "I know I've been your hero since childhood. I appreciate it greatly. But, I can't help but feel you've gotten a little too attached to me."

"You do not approve?" Dalaris asked with a mouthful of biscuit.

I slipped! Thought Ser Xaxeras. Careful you fool. We've climbed very high and it's a long way down.

"I did not say that," said Ser Xaxeras. "I find that I rather enjoy your company."

"I and I enjoy yours, Ser Xaxeras," Dalaris said making a kissing gesture with her lips.

"We don't have to be enemies, Dalaris," said Ser Xaxeras. "Join us."

Dalaris' chewing slowed down and came to a stop. She looked at Ser Xaxeras and swallowed her food. Her expression turned into a glum one. "I enjoy being with you, Ser Xaxeras. I hope you do not doubt that. But, I have Dragonheart blood flowing through my veins. I still have family out there, and our House is in turmoil."

"Dalaris…"

"I'm sorry Ser Xaxeras. One way or another, I have to find my way back. As I said, I'm a Dragonheart, and I am loyal to my House and country, Dragonrock. Nothing will ever change that. I fear not even you can…unless you're willing to make a few sacrifices."

"Sacrifices?" asked Ser Xaxeras.

"Join me," she said, placing an affectionate hand on his paw. "Let's leave this place, together. Like it or not, Ser, but my House is on the winning side. You'd make a wise choice coming with me."

"You don't know what you're asking of me Dalaris."

"You're just going to have to choose then, Ser," said Dalaris. "Me or them. As I said, with or without your help, I'm going to return to my family. And if the day comes where you and I meet on the battlefield, don't think for a second that I will show remorse. Please leave, Ser Xaxeras. I believe my bath is ready."

"Of course," said Ser Xaxeras. "And the feeling is mutual between us. Should the day come when we battle, Dragonslayer, I will fight with my best. Despite this, I also enjoy your company." He repeatedly slammed his paw on his chestplate. "But, I, too, have a family I must keep safe. Prince Jon and his friends. And the spirit of High King Yuri which shines brightly in my heart."

"That's so sweet," Dalaris said sarcastically.

I've slipped! Ser Xaxeras thought. I'm barely hanging on now.

"I will see you again later when I bring you your supper."

"Humph," said Dalaris. "Until you tell me where your loyalties lie, Ser Xaxeras, do find someone else to bring me my food."

"Then expect me no more," said Ser Xaxeras. He turned and walked out of the room. He slammed the door with all his might and furiously locked it.

Jon

A loud horn from the foot of the mountain woke him from his slumber. Jon felt the chill of the Riftgaardian morning kiss his face. The roaring fire that had soothed both him and Summer had gone out during the night and was nothing more than a measly pile of embers in the hearth. Even the heat from the hot springs flowing through the vents of the castle did little to warm the room. But underneath the furs of his bed, it was as hot as a summer day in the tropics; for his naked body was entwined with that of Summer's. Her back and buttocks were curled up on his chest, forcing him to smile and hold her even closer. The horn blew again and echoed across the mountains. Someone pounded on the doors violently. Summer groaned and slammed her pillow over her head.

"Lord Jon!" Ser Xaxeras called from behind the door. "The warriors are here! It's time."

Jon did not answer. He growled like an angry cave bear and put his arm over Summer, burying his face into the back of her neck. Her golden hair tickled his face, but he was so tired and lazy from his sleep that he wasn't bothered.

"Lord Jon!" Ser Xaxeras called out again.

"COMING!" Jon shouted at last. Even he knew he had a duty this morning to meet with every able-bodied warrior in Riftgaard to join his army of Wolves.

He slapped his face hard with his hand and slid it down his nose in frustration. His exposed arm was chilled by the air.

Summer grabbed his hand and held it tight.

"Stay in bed, babe," she cooed.

"I can't." Jon leaned down and kissed her shoulder. "It was my idea to bring back the Wolves of Riftgaard. And so, it will be my duty to train the pups at the front of my house."

Summer growled, but it sounded like the purr of a kitten.

"How do you tolerate me so?" Jon wondered. "You used to live in the East with your televisions, heaters, shopping malls, and restaurants."

"They don't matter if you're not in my life," said Summer. "Even if the Goddess of Time sent me back to redo my decision; knowing I'd wind up here; I'd make the same choice I did then. I'll give up all those things for you, Jon."

Jon grinned and kissed his way up her neck, tickling her and making her giggle. "What did I do to deserve you?" he asked.

Jon walked outside to the balcony and saw the fields near the forests dotted with tents and campsites. His legendary battle-ax hovered over his back with an anti-gravity device, impressing Jon's companions trailing behind him. Ser Xaxeras, Summer, Marcel, Aisha, Jaeyoung; cousin Theo, and all twelve of Jon's sisters came out to join him at the balcony and see the warriors gathering below.

"Seven thousand of the finest warriors in Riftgaard," said Jon. "Less than half of what I hoped for."

Ser Xaxeras closed his eyes and shook his head sadly, disappointed at Jon's lack of confidence. "You don't need more than seven thousand soldiers to defeat wildmen."

"So what are you going to do now, O' great hero!" taunted Theo. "Your little wolf army is too weak."

"HUSH!" shouted Liola, slapping him in the back of the head. She walked to Jon and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don't listen to him, hermandali," said she. "More will come. We've still have yet to hear of the clan in Frostborne."

"Well," said Genesis, "What are we standing here for? Let's go see to these so-called 'warriors'."

Gerdr nodded, squeezing the handle of her war hammer. "Some, we'll see whether or not any of these pups have what it takes to become Wolves."

Jon's sisters turned and left, save for Astrid and Liola. Marcel also walked to Jon.

"Have more faith, Jon. We can do this."

"Yeah, good luck," said Theo. "We shouldn't be fighting the Empire, we should be joining them."

Liola turned at once to confront her little cousin. She slapped him across the face. "That is why you will never be king!" she shouted.

"How dare you strike…"

WHACK! Liola struck him again. "What are you going to do, tough guy!" she shouted. "What are you going to do? Run to mommy? Oh wait, you can't. She's DEAD!"

Tears of hurt welled in his eyes and his lips trembled. He sniffed, massaging his cheek, and ran back into the castle.

"Little twit," said Liola.

Jon, glanced back at her. "You shouldn't be so hard on him, sister."

"Oh, and why not?" Liola said, placing her hands on her hips. "You heard his proposition!"

"He's just a boy," said Jon.

"So was King Hector," said Liola. "He, too, was just a boy. And look at all the destruction he caused."

"Theo doesn't have a sorceress advising him; or an army of traitorous Houses at his back. And he's family, so treat him as such."

"You're growing soft, brother," said Astrid. "Remember, Uncle Borg almost threatened war if you were to be king."

"Theo is not his father," said Jon. "So long as he's under our guardianship, he will make no plot. He has no power to plot. So stop worrying."

"Understood, brother," said Liola, not at all content with Jon's compassion for Theo.

They all made for the exit of the balcony. Ser Xaxeras put a hand on Jon's shoulder to stop him and get his attention.

"What is it, Ser Xaxeras?" Jon asked.

"It's about Dalaris," said the knight.

"Speak," said Jon.

"Well, she has become a little stir-crazy being stuck in that room all day, and she has run out of books to read. I was wondering if I could get your permission to let her spend a few hours in the library of the castle."

"No," Jon responded immediately.

"But, My Lord," Ser Xaxeras said going after him. "Please, just for an hour at least."

"My answer is no," said Jon. "Marcel's plan doesn't seem to be working since she hasn't decided to join us yet. She doesn't seem to care to switch sides, so what do I care if she's not happy?"

"How do you expect her to join us if you have her cooped in that tower all day, every day?"

"She is our prisoner, Ser Xaxeras, not a guest. She's not supposed to be comfortable or happy. Why should she complain anyway? She has it better than most prisoners in Termnnia. She has a room, three hot meals a day, and the luxury of a guest. You're getting a little too close to her, Ser, and I fear for your health, and ours."

"But, but, but, but…"

"My answer is final!" said Jon. "I will say no more."

Ser Xaxeras stood still, and surrendered, watching Jon leave the balcony and into the castle.

Jon

Night soon fell and the camp had grown with more warriors. Jon was most pleased with the turnout and went back into his command tent. He blew a burst of warm air into his palms and checked his digital wristwatch, an item that looked out of place in his furs and leathers. Summer was cooking a soup of freshly caught venison over the fire of Jon's command tent. It had been two days since he sent the call to gather warriors for his army. He knew where to find the spell to unlock Gearfried from his armor, but there was a large gathering of wildmen there. Not only were they in the way of Gearfried's temple, but they had to be stopped. Earlier that morning, a little boy and his sister rode in from the forest. Both of them were frostbitten and bloodied.

After Summer and Astrid warmed them and healed them of their wounds, the boy claimed that when he was hunting with his friends, they spotted a man in red robes coaxing the wildmen to attack the villages all around the kingdom. In less than two days, thousands were killed by their raids. Men were slaughtered and butchered; their pieces were sent to every Jarl in Riftgaard. The boy then told a terrifying tale of what the wildmen did with the children. Summer burst into tears when he said they were stripped naked and left in the woods to be eaten by the beasts of the forest. The boy and his sister barely made it out alive when a pack of wolves arrived to feast on their young flesh. By some miracle, there was still a horse alive in their burning village. The women of the village, the boy's mother included, were rounded up into carts and taken away. He said the wildmen kept shouting: Felyat Ooof. Words that Sagga knew all too well. Breeding Camps.

Jon heard enough. He sent letters to all the Jarls in Riftgaard. It was time to assemble the army. But not all could make it. At least ten Jarls replied with grim news. They were not going to fight; for they were occupied in battling the Church's forces. Despite this, the numbers in Jon's army increased by a small amount raising his fighting force to about 7500 men; which was more than enough. The wind outside blew hard on his tent, causing the thick walls to flap.

But with a thick layer of furs on the floor and torches burning in every corner, his command tent was kept warm and cozy for the sake of Summer. She was comfortable in a long velvet gown colored blue with gold trimming. A cape of emerald green was wrapped around her shoulders to keep even cozier. The fabric was enchanted with a clever spell to resist cold, giving Summer the impression that she was in a sauna.

"You could stay in the castle, love," Jon said, for the camp was not far from his home.

"I'd rather be here," said Summer. "Your sisters are a little too…wild for my company."

Jon smirked. "They thirst for war and blood. They want you to enjoy the same pleasures as they do."

"What other pleasures do they enjoy besides war and blood?" Summer asked suspiciously.

Jon coughed. "You don't want to know."

A horn outside blew, signaling the hour was of late.

"Is it time?" Summer asked. "Are more coming?"

"I fear that no more are coming, dearheart," Jon said, crumpling up a letter. His face burned a fiery shade of orange in the candlelight. "The chief of Clan Stonesword has informed me that he will not be joining us."

"Oh," Summer said, stirring the broth awkwardly. "I sorry to hear that, babe."

"Forget about it," said Jon. "I have plenty of warriors here. After I free Gearfried from his armor, we'll go and help the Jarls."

The flaps to the tent opened. A warrior from another clan peered through them. He felt relief when he felt the warm air touch his face. He saw Summer and nodded his head. "My Lord," he said.

"Speak," said Jon.

"The army is assembled and ready to begin the expedition to the Bostark Mountains. They wish for a few words from you."

"Of course they do," said Jon.

"On a brighter note, the warriors of clan Irontusk have arrived. They will be the last ones to join us no doubt."

"Irontusk?" Jon asked. "Never heard of them."

"They are a nomadic Clan who live in seclusion behind the Blue Wall. They heard of your endeavors and wish to fight with you. They bring…a few friends with them."

Jon went outside with the warrior. He pointed toward an opening in the forests so Jon could see. Jon's eyes widened when he saw Big-Tusked Mammoths and mastodons stomping toward the camp. Wooly Mad Sword Beasts were pulling large wheelhouses; wagons with two, even three floors. The other warriors of Jon's army stood up and gazed at them in amazement. Soldiers from the Clan Irontusk waved triumphantly from the top of their large wooly mounts.

The mammoths carried battle stations on their backs. The windows alight with a warm glow from the fires and lanterns inside. Riding atop a white mastodon was a good-looking lad about the same age as Jon. He was clad in layers of silver armor plating and a white cape. A cape of mastodon fur was hung over his shoulders. His mastodon's most vital areas were covered in thick plates of engraved steel and its tusks reinforced with silver tips. The tusks also had engravings carved into them and were filled with silver.

Jon approached to get a better look.

"Jon!" shouted the youngster. "Prince Jon the Heir of Riftgaard! This is truly an honor."

"Who are you?"

"I am Brökk of the House of Irontusk." He slammed his fist over his breastplate. The mammoth of his house was inlaid into the silvery steel with a shield.

"You're a House?" Jon asked. "You look a little too…sophisticated to be such."

"We're not all savages in furs and leather, dear Prince," said Brökk. Even his accent seemed to have the erudition of the Southern Kingdoms. He jumped off his mount. "We have established trade with the likes of House Delgado for years. Thanks to them we became a little more…what's the word? Tamer than the other Berja Clans."

"House Delgado?" said Jon. "You know they're our enemy right?"

"Can't say that anymore, My Lord," said Brökk with a wink. "King Salazar's daughters formed a coup. Apparently, the old coot was plotting against Prince Yuri for a big slice of the Termnnian pie."

Summer scoffed and furiously shook her head. "What some people won't do for power."

"Indeed. But he's gone now and Maria is now the new Queen of Feldia. I think these are just rumors, but it seems Lady Avi is there searching for a dragon."

"You don't say," said Jon. "Hmph. I can't wait to meet her. Makes me wonder if any True Dragons sleep here in these lands."

"Only she will know," said Summer. "Well, dear, I believe you've kept the men waiting long enough. It's time to boost their spirits."

Jon nodded and led them to the center of the camp where he got on top of a wooden podium. The castle guards began to shout for all to assemble around Jon so he could begin his speech. All twelve of his sisters stood in an organized line on the podium. They bowed their heads as their brother stepped up. Summer was there as well; for this, he was glad and kissed her cheek as thanks for her presence.

"Good luck, babe," said Summer with a wink. "Knock 'em dead."

Jon nodded and turned to face his warriors.

"I thank you all for coming so far to join me in this cause," said Jon. He walked back and forth giving a passionate speech that lit the spirits of his warriors like flames. He finally ended with: "Together, my brothers, we will send those filthy heathens out of Riftgaard once and for all AND SHOW THEM THAT THE BERJA ARE NOT TO EVER, EVER BE FUCKED WITH!"

The warriors banged their shields and thumped their chests as they gave mighty battle cries.

"This night!" Jon shouted. "The Wolves of Riftgaard will howl in the night…once again!"

"AWOOO!" everyone shouted.

Brökk patted Jon on the back and stepped up to make a speech on top of the podium. "Yes, my brothers. Tomorrow, we deal with the feral wildmen who burn our villages at the behest of the Church. They stand in the way of the temple where the key to unlocking Gearfried from his armor awaits Prince Jon. We're going to crush each and every one of them."

"AWOOO!"

"But this night, we celebrate this great gathering of Riftgaard's bravest and finest. Therefore, I have brought a bit of a treat for all of us! Men, open the wagons!"

The wheelhouses were parked in a neat row. The Mad Sword Beasts snorted and growled while the soldiers of house Irontusk unlocked the gates of the wheelhouses. The warm golden glow from inside illuminated the dark fields. Jon watched from the podium as the gates of the wheelhouses were opened one by one.

Jon heard whistles and cheers of glee from his soldiers. He saw wooly figures coming out of the wheelhouses. Upon closer inspection, Jon could see that they were women, dressed in thick cloaks of mammoth furs. They stood in straight lines in front of the warriors. The women were all very beautiful to behold and they were smiling and waving at the men and women in the military Jon had made.

"My friends!" Brökk took the hand of one girl with a blonde ponytail and led her to the front of the line. "You are welcome to help yourselves!" he ripped the cloak off the woman. She jeered in surprise and covered herself, for she wore nothing but a skimpy loincloth underneath. The warriors jeered, waving their weapons in the air. "Bring forth the wine!" Brökk commanded.

Soon wagons loaded with barrels of wine and mead rolled in from the forest. The warriors mobbed the wagons as well as the women, picking them up one by one and removing the furs (Which were also to be used to lay on) and carrying them into their tents.

"He's a real charmer isn't he?" said Summer. "What a spectacle."

"Well, they need a little something to keep their spirits up, I guess," said Jon. "This is going to be one interesting campaign."

Someone was pushing their way through the crowd. Someone large. It was Ser Xaxeras. He was waving an arm in the air, holding onto a book of some sort.

"Your Majesty!" he called. "Your Majesty!"

Jon held up a hand, commanding that the soldiers make a path for him. In an instant, they all split as though Jon were Moses opening the sea in the bible, a religious tome from Earth. Once he got his path set, Ser Xaxeras sprinted down the open path and onto the platform. He bowed before Jon and showed him the book.

"That's the bestiary from our library," said Jon. "What are you doing with it?"

"My Lord," Ser Xaxeras said getting up. "You allowed Lady Dalaris..."

"She's not a Lady, Ser Xaxeras," Jon interrupted with quite a stern tone in his voice. "Traitors to the crown are not to be referred to as such."

"Of course," Ser Xaxeras agreed mournfully. "Nevertheless, she has found something I think you will find quite interesting."

Jon nodded.

"Well, I have informed Dalaris of the task. Last night as she was reading..."

"You told Dalaris went on during the meeting?" Liola said, crossing her arms. "How dare you!"

"I agree," said Jon. "These meetings are confidential. And you share information with a traitor? I could have you punished for this, Ser Xaxeras. You'd better have some good news before I lose my temper!"

"Look!" Ser Xaxeras said opening the page Dalaris read earlier. "There is a monster of great power sleeping here in Riftgaard." He pointed at the page that displayed a picture of the beast. "There is a mountain to the North called Silvermountain, correct."

"You speak of the Spirit of Silvermountain?" said Alfsigr. "Mother used to tell us story of the monster that is said to sleep there. But it is just a legend."

"So were The Ancient Beasts," said Astrid. "And the True Dragons that Lady Avi has found. Now they're waking up all over Termnnia. As Jon said, we need monsters of great power to join our cause. Armies are no good anymore. We need to take this beast of Silvermountain into account. Legends don't start for nothing. There is always a reason behind them. If you have the mind to show us this monster, Ser Xaxeras, I will personally lead a company to Silvermountain myself, and see if I can't wake it."

Jon looked at his youngest sister with worry. "Are you sure, Astrid? To get to Silvermountain you have to cross through Thorgon An Helnorst (The Ridge of the Beast). No one who has ever set foot there has ever returned."

"Maybe he's the reason why," said Astrid. "How fortunate the most dreaded place in Riftgaard is an obstacle to get to Silvermountain."

Jon looked at Ser Xaxeras. His face turned beet red and his eyes flared. His beard shivered in fury. "You'd better have good reason to have my sister wish to go on such a suicidal mission, Ser Xaxeras!"

"I can take care of myself, Jon. If the mission gets too dangerous, I'll turn back. You have my word."

Jon stood there for a moment. He then smiled and ruffled his little sister's pigtails. "Very well. Be safe, sister. How did you come by this information, Xaxeras?"

"I didn't," Ser Xaxeras said with a smile. His fangs glowing brightly before the torches on the platform. "Dalaris found them."

"Why did she point this out?" Liloa asked.

"She wants to help you," Ser Xaxeras responded urgently, no doubt trying to convince them that she was good.

Jon rubbed his beard. "Does she now?" said Jon. "Hmm. Well, we may be going into a wild goose chase for the Soul of Silvermountain, but no doubt he will prove a great ally if my little sister can convince him to join us."

Alfsigr smirked and blinked her pretty eyes rapidly. "It seems to me that the Dragonslayer finally knows where her loyalties lie if she is aiding us in hunting monsters to use against her House's allies."

"Indeed," said Jon. "Goddesses, Marcel was right. Okay, Ser Xaxeras. It seems we've gotten Dalaris to come to her senses. She has earned herself a free day outside her room. The cooks and the servants are under your whim for the whole day. Treat Dalaris to a well-deserved breakfast and give her some decent attire before she walks the halls of my father's castle. And...as much as it pains me to say this, you have my permission to allow her into the library. A reward for her services to the Alliance."

"This could be a trap," said Saga. "Don't be a fool, Jon! You are correct when you said that Astrid's quest is a suicide mission Thorgon An Helnorst is a dangerous region that remains unexplored and uninhabited. The only things that make their home there are horrible monsters and the Wild Men of Kunnen Vieljen."

"I will join her then," said Ser Xaxeras. "If Dalaris means ill intent, we will know for sure. She has taken a liking to me, and I doubt she will wish me to go into harm's way."

"He's right," said Jon. "If Dalaris means to escape and kill us in the process, she would never allow Ser Xaxeras to get killed. He's her only means of escaping us. We will see for sure whether or not she means to help us tomorrow. Astrid, gather as many men as you need and rest."

"Yes, brother!" Astrid said with a bow.

Jon nodded his head up and down confidently. "The Soul of Silvermountain. Now things really are getting interesting."

Summer tugged the chainmail dangling over Jon's broad shoulder. "Babe, can I get a word?" she asked.

Jon nodded his head. "Of course," he said. "What is it?"

Summer looked to the left, and then to the right, and very cautiously. "Not here."

Before Jon could ask he what was wrong, Summer took his hand and dragged him down the platform and back into their tent after a long struggle to get past the crowd of warriors, all of them wishing Jon the best of luck with his campaign to vanquish the wildmen and finding Gearfried's key. Summer peeled over the flaps of their tent and was greeted by the graceful embrace of the hearth burning in the center of the tent. She gingerly stepped toward it and rubbed her shoulders as she shivered. Jon made sure to tighten the flaps so the winds of Riftgaard could not enter their abode and chill his darling wife any further. He came up from behind and put his arms over her, kissing her neck while he rubbed his thick Berjan hands up and down her shoulders.

"Jon!" Summer laughed. "Your beard! It tickles!"

"What do you want to talk about?" he hummed into her ear.

Summer unclasped herself from Jon's arms and then walked to the desk to overlook a burlap map of Termnnia which was covered in totems of House sigils, towers, patrol routes, and potential treasures.

"I know this isn't a good time, babe," Summer said, pointing her finger at the kingdom of Eredas on the map. She slid her finger to Domino City. While she loved Jon and would give anything to be with him, Summer missed her home. Jon could see this from here and felt worried.

"Do you wish to go home?" he asked.

Summer smiled in response still glaring at the map. "No, nothing like that," she said after a short pause. "It's just...something happened a little while ago. I asked your sister, Liola, if she could send some physicians down here to check up on me."

"Physicians?" Jon asked. "Are you sick, dearheart?"

Summer laughed. "Far from it. Jon...my monthly course was due some time ago."

It took a while for Jon to comprehend what she was saying. He stood up straight and narrowed his eyes. "You're late?"

Summer nodded. "It could mean many things, I know. But I had to be sure. I underwent a test. And...well...it came back positive."

Jon felt like the chill of winter went down his very frame. Summer turned to look at him to see how he would respond. She walked to him and took his hand, placing it gently over her womb.

"Summer?" Jon asked, eyes glistening. "You mean..."

"Yes," Summer said, bashfully looking at his hand. She blinked to wipe away the tears of joy in her beautiful blue eyes and looked at him. "Jon. I'm pregnant."

Jon did not know what came over him. He let out a loud roar of sheer joy and embraced his lover with all his might. He picked her up and spun her around and around until his back cracked. His chainmail and sword jingled with each movement he made.

"We have to tell the others!" he said.

"No," said Summer. She kissed him. "Not yet. Let's wait until after Riftgaard is secure to tell our friends the news."

"Summer," Jon wept. He buried his face in her neck. "I'm so happy!" He moved back and kissed her forehead repeatedly. "Damnation. You can't come with me. It's going to be dangerous where I'm going."

"I know," said Summer. "I'll stay here in the castle with your mother and father until you come back."

"No," said Jon. "Not with that...Dragonslayer in there."

"Well, where else can I go, babe?" Summer asked. "Come on, it's not like I'm going to be alone. You've got guards up the wazoo in there. Not to mention Astrid and the girls will stay behind with me."

"Just a handful of them," said Jon.

"I'll be fine," said Summer. "I promise."

"Be careful." Jon gently bumped his forehead on hers. "What do you think it's going to be?"

Summer chuckled softly. "Well...if it's a girl I was thinking Astrid."

"Oh joy," Jon groaned playfully. "Another Astrid running about. And if it's a boy?"

Summer looked as though she began to glow. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She looked at Jon, her smile growing wider. "Yuri."

Again, Jon's eyes began to twinkle with tears. Summer placed a comforting hand on his cheek and then they kissed.