Janus glances up as he hears a very light tapping on his dungeon door a few days later. "What is it?"
The king slips inside, shutting the door behind him. "It's time for you to disappear, my friend."
"Have the rest been made to disappear yet?"
"Aye. You're the last, my friend. I thought you'd prefer it that way."
"Thank you. But, where should we go?"
"I don't know; nor should I learn, for your sakes-I cannot tell what I do not know. But it would likely be best if you went in different directions, at least for now."
He nods. "Very well. Thank you, my friend."
"My pleasure, old friend. Highest's guidance on your way."
Janus nods and slips out of the cell and towards the emergency exit, keeping to the shadows. The king waits until he's gone, then lets himself out, locking the door behind him. Pausing and slowing his breath every time a guard passes near, he makes slow progress, but is soon outside to the east in the dark forest's night.
"Safe travels, my friends," the king murmurs, then heads back to the stables, where he'd told his guards they could find him. He steps out from behind his large war horse. "Morning, men."
"Morning, m'lord," each guard answers.
"Ready for training?"
"Yes sir."
"Good. Let's go, then." He takes them out to the woods to the north to hunt.
Janus meets his men at the stables a few minutes later, and they ride through the woods quickly. Each of his men take off on different paths as they pass them. He looks at his two sons as they take off in separate directions. "Farewell, and may you stay safe."
"And you, Father," Guran and Jarod each answer as they take their paths.
He smiles. "I hope we meet again."
"As do we."
Janus nudges his horse to go a little faster, knowing the adviser's probably discovered their escape by now, and he can make much better time now that he's alone. His stallion, recognizing the stress his master's under, runs as hard and silent as he can with socks over his hooves.
"Good lad," Janus murmurs softly, leaning low over his neck to reduce wind resistance. "To Jarian, lad, as quick as may be done."
He wickers softly and speeds up a bit, now that they're a little further away from the castle. Janus sighs, wishing he knew who exactly had framed him, or who would want him out of the way of whatever was being planned. There had to be a plot here somewhere-something that would hurt his king. That was all he could figure.
His horse starts to gallop, hearing more horses behind them. Janus strokes his neck gently. "Thank you, lad. You can do it."
He whinnies at that, knowing time and speed are of the essence, and pours on his greatest speed.
Janus smiles. "Good lad. I'll make sure you get a nice, long, rest when we get there."
The stallion nods, shooting off into the early dawn.
Kaylee wakes the next morning to an unfamiliar ceiling, the night before a blur of pain and fear.
"How are you feeling?" Thyre asks softly, rising from a chair at the foot of her bed to take her hand.
"N-Not sure. Wh-Where are we?" she whispers, nervous.
"Safe in the rocks."
She relaxes a little. "Wh-What happened last night?"
"What do you remember?"
"Not much. Found... trouble, of some sort, I'm not sure what. Then my side started hurting. I... came back to base... and we ran for the rocks. Then my side started throbbing. I, don't remember what happened, after that. Though it seems we got here fine, apparently. And that a healer found me before I got into too much trouble with whatever was hurting my side. Strange, that, though-usually a run doesn't hurt like that."
"You got hit in the side with an arrow. And yes, we did find a healer for you in time, though only barely, he said. Ran into an old friend, too, and a fellow as claims he's family."
"I see." She stretches. "May I meet the healer?"
"Sure, if you're ready for some breakfast. He's actually a student to the fellow claiming blood ties, but he knew enough to help you. And his teacher double-checked his work when we got back here."
"I see. Who's the old friend, then?"
The wyvern teen pokes his head in the window, glancing at Thyre. Thyre sighs. "That'd be Markab. He and I are linked. He's a wyvern."
"Oh, okay. Hello, Markab. Hope you'll be good to my... my friend, here," she smiles shyly, gripping Thyre's hand tightly.
He smiles softly. "I will."
Kaylee smiles back. "And here I'd thought wyverns don't talk."
"We can speak your language, yes. We just prefer our own, since not many understand it."
"I see. Who's growling at the door?"
"My sister. She doesn't approve of speaking your language. Thinks it a vulgar tongue."
"Hello, lass. I'm sorry I can't speak your language, or understand yours. Why do you think it vulgar?"
She answers, and her brother translates. "Because it's the language used most often by those who hunt us for our scales. They're a vulgar people; she followed them once to rescue a captured egg, and saw how they lived before she torched them and brought the egg back to his mother. She's refused to speak this language ever since."
"You gave those creeps what they deserved, ma'am. Our group love and respect creatures, and would only kill an animal for food or if there was nothing we could do for it. I just wish I knew how to prove it to you."
The wyvern shakes her head, growling again. Markab frowns at her. "Be nice, sis. They're no older than we are; I am not about to translate sailor slang for them."
A little wyvern chirps from next to Kaylee and hugs her leg. "What is it, little one?" Kaylee asks gently.
"She wants you to be hers."
"Where's her mama?" She gently picks her up and pets her.
Markab's sister shoves the door open, snarling at her.
Her little one chirps back, perfectly relaxed.
"Go on kiddo. Your mama obviously doesn't like me," Kaylee soothes, setting her down reluctantly.
The hatchling sets a marked paw on an identical mark on Kaylee's leg. 'I find you 'gain,' she whispers in her Token's mind. 'No mattah what mama say. You mine. Always.'
"Very well."
Her mama relaxes at that, and says to the hatchling in Wyvonic, "She is your Token, isn't she."
The hatchling nods eagerly, answering in kind, "Uh-huh, dad de wowd. Tokie. See ee Tokie f-evah."
"I see. Is she gentle?"
"Uh-huh. See a nicey, Mama."
"Are you sure?" she asks, checking her for injury.
"Vewy. Ee fine, Mama."
"I have to be sure, baby."
She grumbles, but allows her to finish her inspection.
She gently lets her go. "Go play."
The hatchling salutes and pounces on one of her brothers. Her brother giggles and starts wrestling with her. She giggles happily, rolling with him across the floor.