Specs of sunlight made their way through the trees, warming bits and pieces of Ben's face. He braced himself for morning and slowly opened his eyes only to be blinded by a beam of light. He turned his head and raised his arm for some sort of protection. But spring mornings never hesitated to bring a beautiful day. And before his bag was slung over his shoulder, the sun was shining above him. It wasn't long before he reached Bowerstone. As a matter of fact, he could see it hazily in the distance.
One year had passed. One long and dreadful year. Though, Benjamin Finn had not changed much since then. The only thing noticeably different about the man was thick patches of hair covering his chin. Now that there was no one to tell him to shave or even spout the dress code at him, he had freely let the hair on his face grow only trimming it when the hairs became unruly. He hadn't gotten as many compliments as he had hoped, but it was certainly something he took pride in. He wondered if Eleanor would notice. Of course she would. It was blatantly obvious. But would she like it? She would laugh at him, he was certain.
The closer the castle came into his vision, the more he began to think about his old friends. He imagined Page bickering with Eleanor in the throne room. His comrades toasting at the tavern for his return. And then there was Walter. He decided that was where he would go first. The other pleasantries would wait until later. But when he had finally reached the castle on his long silent walk, there was no one to greet him. The two guards at the door only nodded to him before he stepped through the threshold. It was all eerily quiet.
"Oh, not you," a smug voice came from the hallway to his left.
"Good to see you, too, Hobs."
"I've already got enough problems without you being here."
"Lucky for you, I'm not here to grace you with my presence."
"Lucky for me, there is no one here to grace your presence with."
"I'm sorry, what?" Ben said, taken aback. "Where's Elle?"
"Lady Eleanor has been missing for the past three days."
"Blood hell," Ben threw down his pack. "No one thought to contact me?"
"Last I checked, you did not bother to care for the Queen's well being."
Ben stepped forward suddenly, making Hobson jump and stumble backward. Before he could fall, Ben caught the edge of his collar. He brought him close to his face, his nose inches away from the little cretin's. He pointed one of his fingers in his face. But before more words were spoken, a loud voice boomed from the stairway.
"That's quite enough, Mr. Finn."
Ben looked over to meet eyes with a man he had never met before. He was tall and lean. His back was straight and shoulders pressed. On his lip sat a mustache that put Ben's to shame. His hair was slicked to the side and his eyebrows groomed. Ben cringed when he saw the uniform he was wearing had once belonged to his former Major. He dropped Hobson and turned to engage his new interest.
"Who might you be?"
"Major Collins. And you will refer to me as such."
"Right," Ben rolled his eyes.
"If you have a moment, I would like to bring you up to speed on our current situation."
Ben gave Hobson one last suspicious look before going up the stairs with the man that titled himself Major. He followed him down the hallway, mocking the paintings on the walls as he walked by them. Although, he was sure Collins did not see him do so. It truly seemed nothing had moved even an inch since he left. That is, until he stepped into the study.
The place Eleanor had once made her haven had been desecrated. Papers were everywhere. Drawings, blueprints, books, all of it. There were several bottles of fine wine lined on her desk and a pair of her stockings lay resting on the lamp next to them. Amongst it all was a very confused old man sitting on the floor with a stack of papers in his hands. He did not bother to look up from reading them.
"Anything yet?"
"Nothing in particular. It's hard to pinpoint anything in this mess," the man replied.
"What the hell happened in here?" Ben said gaping at the disaster around him.
"Lady Eleanor clearly went insane," Collins said as-a-matter-of-factly.
"I'm guessing I missed something," he said, trying to find a place on the sofa.
"We assume our Lady has left for Aurora," Collins informed him, preferring to stand.
"And?"
"And we aren't sure where in Aurora she has left to."
"Maybe she needed a break. Everyone needs a vacation from time to time, you know."
The man on the floor stopped to exchange glances with Collins. "Did she tell you anything before you left Bowerstone? Anything at all?"
Ben shrugged. "She wasn't sleeping very well. But that… that's about it."
"Why did you even bother?" the old man threw the papers aside. "He will not be any use to us."
Collins squeezed the bridge of his nose, placing pressure on the corners of his eyes. The task before him had proven to be more of a headache than he had imagined.
"You know, I'm okay with just sitting here quietly until someone decides to tell me what's going on," Ben said while folding his arms.
"Eleanor has been locking herself in her study for weeks. She hardly ate a thing. She kept dozing off during meetings. And she was becoming rather obsessive over Auroran culture. She asked me for books upon books of lore. Even sent me to Reaver, of all people, for a blueprint of some sculpture in his mansion. I hadn't the slightest idea what she had been searching for. But one day, she just left. Got up right in the middle of a man pleading to lower the tax on his farm. She bolted straight for the door and she was gone."
Ben roared with laughter. "She really did that? Just booked it? Oh, Elle."
"This is no laughing matter. The Queen could be in danger."
"Have you ever even met the Queen? I mean, come on. The woman can snap your neck with her thighs. I doubt you have anything to worry about."
"The fact of the matter is that the Queen is needed here. The people are starting to panic."
"Then go find her," Ben said with a wave of his hand. "She won't be hard to find. Though, if she doesn't want to be found, you'll need a bit of luck."
"Ah, but luck just happens to be sitting in the room with us," the old man finally rose from his spot on the floor and began to wring his hands.
"What? You mean me?"
"She wouldn't run from you. And if we sent you, the two of us can continue to restore order here at the castle. No harm done."
"I didn't exactly leave on good terms with Elle," Ben scratched the back of his head.
"Regardless," Collins interrupted. "Albion requires your services once again."
"Great. And I was growing quite fond of this beard."
"Your pack isn't too heavy is it?" the man asked as he adjusted a strap on her shoulder.
"Not at all. I'll only be gone for a few days. I think this will do just fine."
"The sun gets hot out there. You should be careful."
"I will," she placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "Thank you for this."
"You can thank me when you've made it back in one piece."
"Fair enough," she gave him a smile and a small pat before she turned to walk away.
The town was bustling with more people than ever. Merchants lined the sand streets. Tourists flocked to purchase the finest of spices and silks. A man played a foreign instrument on the corner. Aurora was prospering much quicker than she expected. A sense of pride fell over her as two children ran past her laughing. Would they ever know the graveyard they were walking upon? Eleanor did not dare to think more of it. She was ready to be rid of her nightmare once and for all. And as she topped the hill, she looked to the dock. There were at least three ships unloading cargo and people onto the shores. One lingered in the distance. She stopped to take in the scenery of the ocean, glistening and welcoming.
Suddenly, she caught a glimpse someone below. She did not recognize the face. But whoever it was, they were quite persistent in getting her attention. When he waved and she did not wave back, he began flailing both of his arms in the air. Squinting her eyes, she attempted to get a close look at the man. His face was unclear. Though she did notice he was dressed in brown. And a strap came across his chest and over his shoulder. It was holding a rifle.
"Oh, please may Avo be playing some sort of joke on me," she whispered under her breath.
"Elle!" she could hear him shout clear as day, now. "Is that really you? Haha!"
"In all the-"
"I don't believe it. What are you doing all the way out here?"
"What I am I doing? What are you doing?"
Ben adjusted the strap on his shoulder. "They're talking about the wonders of Aurora. I thought I might see what all the fuss is about."
"It's nothing but sand. You aren't missing much."
"Ah. But underneath the sand. There are ruins. Said to hold treasures Albion has never seen the likes of before. I take it that is where you're heading?"
"No," Eleanor said abruptly.
Ben examined her, making note of the pack on her back. He raised his brow. "You look like you're set for a few days. Looks like you got a nice new pistol. Same old blade. A few daggers on that belt of yours."
"I'm not treasuring hunting," she sighed.
"Well, would you mind having a drink with me? Surely you can wait a little longer. Catch up with an old friend?"
Eleanor looked out to the desert. "I wish I could, Ben. But I really can't."
"Well then," he clapped her on the shoulder. "Let me go with you."
"You probably shouldn't."
"I probably shouldn't do a lot of things. But I do them anyway. The whole "What If?" thing terrifies me."
She was certain he was mocking her, now. After all this time with not even word. After leaving her alone. After denying her affection. He dared to stand before her and trade pleasantries. Regardless, he was standing in front of her and it was clear he wasn't going to leave. Tossing the idea of him tagging along at her side, she let out a heavy sigh.
"Fine. But we're leaving now."
"Fair enough," he shrugged and began to walk past her. "What's the plan?"
Eleanor rolled her eyes, unable to believe it was so easy for him to find her. Here she thought she had been discrete. She covered her tracks, not that there was much of one to follow. But Ben was somehow led straight to her feet as if some sort of glowing trail guided him.
"Do you remember the temple Walter spoke of? The one we found when we washed up onto the beach?"
"You don't really mean-"
"But I do," she interrupted him. "And if you want to tag along, I don't want to hear about how terrible this idea is."
"You won't hear a word about it."