Chapter 5

The Niben

Atkynd slowly woke when a sliver of light seeping through the opening of the tent struck his eye, and he let out a low groan as he held his hand over his face, wincing. He blinked away the momentary blindness, shaking his head, and then opened his eyes again. Then his heart stopped as he realized that he was staring up an Ayleid peering in through the tent flap, brandishing a shortsword at his throat.

"Easy," the mer said in an oily, smooth voice, a sneer on his lips. Atkynd swallowed as he tried to back away from the point of the sword, but the Ayleid moved with him, aiming the point of the blade directly at his jugular. "Why don't you step out of the tent for us?"

"Ah… Certainly," Atkynd said in what he hoped was a relaxed tone, trying not to let his growing panic overwhelm him. "Just let me get my cloak and we can discuss this." The elf shrugged, but didn't lower the sword. Atkynd reached around and grabbed his discarded cloak, whereupon he noticed – to his simultaneous relief and concern – that Tari was nowhere to be found. Which meant that either she had escaped… or the Ayleids had already gotten ahold of her.

Atkynd wrapped the cloak around his shoulders and crawled out of the tent, squinting in the bright, early morning sunlight. As he stepped out, he noticed that the Ayleid holding him at swordpoint was accompanied by three other soldiers wearing purple cloaks over their bronze armor. Their shields bore the sigil of a white mask, which Atkynd was unfamiliar with.

"Now then," continued the Ayleid that Atkynd assumed was the captain of the group. "What's an escaped slave doing out here alone? And where did you steal that horse and that sword in your tent from?"

"I'm afraid you're mistaken, captain," Atkynd said, watching his compatriots warily as they moved to encircle him, their own blades drawn. "I'm not a slave. I'm not even from Cyrod. I'm an emissary from Malabal, in the-"

"My, this one can even spin stories!" the captain interrupted, laughing. "He's quite eloquent for a slave, too. I wonder what other tricks your master taught you to do with that pretty mouth of yours," he added, grabbing Atkynd's chin and leaning in.

Atkynd jerked his head out of the captain's head, disgusted, but he froze when he felt the blades of the other Ayleids pressing against his throat from all sides. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck as he exclaimed, "I'm not a Nede! Look at my ears! I'm not human! I'm elven!"

"He's right," one of the other guards remarked, using his blade to lift Atkynd's loose, silver-blond hair out of the way to reveal his pointed ears. "Looks like this one's a mongrel."

"Interesting! That's rare," the captain remarked. "Usually your kind are strangled when they're infants. You're one of the lucky ones. As are we, getting our hands on such a pretty specimen," he added, leering at Atkynd with a lascivious smirk. "Our first catch of the day, and it's a real prize."

Atkynd tried not to let his relief show at those words. If they hadn't found Tari, then hopefully she was either hiding or had run away, which meant he didn't have to worry about her. All he had to do now was figure a way out of his predicament.

Without moving his head, Atkynd tried to check the positions of the other guards. If they were close enough, perhaps he could get off a calming spell and daze them long enough to escape. Then he could find Tari, and–

Atkynd immediately discarded that line of thinking, cathartic as it was. He might be able to charm one of the guards, but the others would catch on to what happened immediately, and he'd likely be killed on the spot. He had no hope of escaping.

The captain eyed him for a moment longer, then sighed and motioned to the guard behind him. "For now, bind him." Atkynd shuddered as the elf licked his lips and ran a finger under his chin, "Much as I'd like to… sample him right here, our king likes his livestock undamaged. Besides, there will be plenty of time later to-"

"You there!" a voice bellowed, startling both Atkynd and the quartet of elves. All eyes turned to a regal Ayleid perched on the back of a sleek black stallion. The elf was dressed in an ornate, polished bronze cuirass etched with delicate feathers. Flared pauldrons covered his shoulders and upper arms, while bracers protected his forearms, a leather skirt covered his thighs, and greaves capped his knees and shins. His head was bare, and his dark hair was closely shorn, almost making him seem bald. The elf appeared quite young – in terms of physical appearance, Atkynd would have guessed the Ayleid to be around his own age, though he was well aware that the elf was likely decades older than him. He was accompanied by a dozen guards wearing plain, unadorned bronze armor, and each carried blue-painted shields decorated with a trio of white water droplets.

"What is it?" the captain of the patrol snarled, whirling on the intruding elf.

"Unhand that man," the elf on the horse demanded, glaring down at the captain.

"What? No," the captain replied defiantly. "Be on your way. This doesn't concern you."

"Fool!" the elf on the horse bellowed, his icy blue eyes flashing dangerously as he nudged his mount forward, until he was standing over the captain. "That's no common slave! This man is an emissary!"

The captain glanced back at Atkynd, raising an eyebrow. "Indeed? So he claimed as well," he commented, though he clearly didn't care. "Have you any proof?"

"I'm an eyewitness. He stood before the Council of the Elders not two days ago," the mounted elf replied. "And I'm not the only one who would recognize him. Many kings know him by sight. Including your own," he added in a low growl. "Let me make the magnitude of your idiocy clear. Capturing an emissary is tantamount to declaring war on another kingdom. If you present this man to your king, you will be tortured at best, and killed at worst, for daring to detain a messenger. A messenger, I might add, whom other kings are expecting to deliver valuable trade requests. So, not only are you antagonizing this man's homeland, you're also risking angering several local kings, many of whom would gladly recoup their lost profits by sacking your city instead. Is that what you wish?"

The captain hesitated, trading uneasy glances with his men, who slowly lowered their swords. The captain snarled and shoved his own sword back into its scabbard, and then he roughly pushed Atkynd away. "Take him," the captain hissed. "You would do well to heed your own words, though. Your kingdom can ill afford to make any more enemies either."

"I'll take your words into consideration," the mounted elf replied coldly. "Now, be on your way."

The captain hissed and started towards the young Ayleid, but the sound of a dozen swords being pulled from their scabbards made him pause. With a growl, he stalked off with his squad following him closely. The young Ayleid watched them until they had crossed a bridge to the east, and then he turned to Atkynd, his expression softening. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm… unharmed," Atkynd replied slowly. His heart was still pounding, and his stomach was roiling with a combination of adrenaline and disgust. Still, he hadn't been physically hurt, and for that he was grateful. He forced himself to take a deep breath to calm his nerves, before adding, "Thank you."

"Not at all," the Ayleid replied simply, waving off his thanks. "Your name is… Atkynd, yes? Well met. I am Prince Dynar of Nenalata. As I said, I recall seeing you in the Council of the Elders meeting before Sanguinalia a few days ago. I attended that meeting as well, though I'm not sure if you remember me." When Atkynd regretfully shook his head, the elf shrugged. "No matter. Even if I didn't recognize you, I had no intention of allowing them to capture you. No one deserves what they had in store for you."

"Why?" Atkynd asked slowly. "Were they from Vindasel?"

"No, those were soldiers from Sard," Dynar corrected him. "Sard is a city that derives much of its wealth from the slave trade, far more than most cities in Cyrod. They specialize in breeding slaves for strength, beauty, and obedience, treating them like livestock. Cattle." A dark look crossed Dynar's face as he added, "Had they captured you, you would have been caged in intolerable conditions, and they would have continuously used you until they decided you were past your prime as breeding material. Then they would have killed you. Though by then, you would have been so broken, death would seem a mercy."

Atkynd shivered and tried to ignore the nausea swelling in his stomach. "Well… then I'm all the more grateful for your assistance," he murmured. He exhaled, then glanced around, growing increasingly worried as another thought struck him. "By any chance, did you also see a Nedic girl in the area? She'd be small, with reddish-brown hair, and-"

Before he could finish his sentence, a small blur shot out of a clump of tall ferns to his left and darted towards him. Tari nearly tackled him as she wrapped her arms around him, though thankfully her slight weight only made him stumble for a couple steps. She clung to him, shuddering, as she whispered, "Thank the Divines! I… I saw all of that. I was so afraid they would take you… that I'd have no way to save you…! I wanted to, but I couldn't…!"

"Easy. I'm fine," Atkynd said in a low, soothing voice, reaching down to stroke her hair as she continued to tremble. "You were right, though. We should have camped deeper in the trees," he chuckled, and he heard her let out a short, choked laugh through her sobs. "I'm just glad you weren't here when they arrived. Speaking of… where were you?"

"I… I woke early. You seemed like you were very tired last night, so I didn't want to wake you," she sobbed into his tunic. "You said you'd liked my cooking yesterday, so I thought I would surprise you. I went foraging in the jungle for ingredients for breakfast." Atkynd glanced down and noticed she was wearing his leather pack over her shoulder, which was half-stuffed with a variety of plants. "By the time I got back, I saw those soldiers taking you away. There was nothing I could do…!"

"No, and I'm glad you didn't try," Atkynd said, managing a soft laugh. "I'd rather you not get captured along with me."

"I… don't think that would be so bad, though," she whispered. "I'd rather be captured with you than be free and alone."

Atkynd blinked at her and cleared his throat, feeling a rush of heat creep along his ears. "Well… thankfully we didn't need to make that choice," he stammered. She nodded once, then reluctantly let him go, wiping her face off. Dynar watched them quietly, seeming amused, though he didn't comment on their interaction.

"If I may, what was your destination?" he asked, leaning forward and crossing his wrists over the back of his horse.

"We were on our way to Vanua," Atkynd replied, turning to face the prince. "We were hoping to catch a ship down the Niben, if possible."

"Ah. You may find that difficult," Dynar said slowly.

"I have," Atkynd replied drily, scowling at the memory of the sneering captains in Fanacasecul.

Dynar let out a slight, humorless laugh. "Indeed… I suppose even securing passage would be a trial for you. Well! If you'd like, you're welcome to accompany us," he volunteered. At this, his entourage traded glances behind his back, but none of them said anything. "We already have a ship docked in Vanua, waiting to take us back to Nenalata. We can escort you that far, though I fear you may find sailing further than that difficult."

Atkynd noted something in his tone that made him frown. "Are there no ships traveling the length of the Niben?" he asked.

"I'm afraid not. The river is quite… treacherous at the moment," Dynar explained. "Most ships are only traveling part of the way, and few are going as far as Nenalata. You're certainly welcome to try finding a captain on your own in Vanua, but I doubt you'll have much success. Of course, I won't force you to accompany us, but you'll be hard-pressed to find a better offer. Especially since we're willing to transport you for free."

Atkynd raised an eyebrow, slightly suspicious of the generous offer. After a moment, he turned to look at Tari, who was now half-hidden behind him. "What do you think?" he asked quietly.

Tari considered the prince, a cautious expression on her face. "In truth, I'm wary of any Ayleid offering help, especially for free," she whispered. "In my experience, any kindness they show just masks a greater cruelty. What if this group saved us so they can enslave us themselves?" Atkynd frowned, considering that thought. Then Tari sighed. "That said, his intentions seem genuine, and I feel that if they did wish to capture us, they would have done so. They likely also wouldn't have offered a choice about traveling with them. And if we can trust them… then we'll be far safer with them than on our own."

"So, you're saying we should go with them?" Atkynd asked, suppressing a smile.

"Every instinct I have tells me that it's unwise, but all our other options are even more foolish. Especially since we must pass Sard itself shortly," Tari replied. "So… yes, let's accept their offer."

"Very well!" Atkynd said cheerfully, turning back to Dynar and inclining his head. "We'd love to accompany you."

"Excellent!" Dynar nodded. "Please, take your time packing your camp. We'll depart when you're ready." After a moment, he added, "I'm pleased you're joining us. It'll be interesting to have such… unique company for a change."

"What, foreign emissaries don't regularly accompany you on your travels?" Atkynd quipped.

"Not as often as we might like," Dynar replied flatly. Atkynd stared at him, surprised by the elf's candid response, and he was caught even more off-guard when they Ayleid flashed him a slight smile. Despite himself, Atkynd found himself grinning back. He'd met few people who were so friendly and hospitable, much less an Ayleid with those traits. In fact, it was the first time he'd found himself genuinely liking an Ayleid since he'd arrived, he mused wryly as he helped Tari onto Emero's back.

After the camp was packed and they had set out, the group made excellent time. They passed within sight of a city-state that Dynar identified as Sard, but they wisely gave it a wide berth, so Atkynd didn't see much of it beyond its marble outer walls before they hurried past it. Their travels eventually led them to cross an enormous marble bridge spanning the length of the Niben River. As they fell in line behind a merchant driving a heavy cart pulled by a pair of oxen, Atkynd noted with some surprise how little traffic there was, especially on a major highway. When he voiced his thoughts to Dynar, the Ayleid nodded.

"That's typical this time of year," Dynar explained. "Sanguinalia isn't just an excuse to shamelessly indulge in hedonism. It also marks the height of the harvest season. After the celebration, most rulers return to their cities to oversee the harvest. Once they've finished gathering their crops, the last major trade boom of the year will take place. For now, though, they want as many hands as possible collecting and storing crops for the winter."

"Which is why your father sent you to the Temple of the Ancestors instead of going himself?" Atkynd inferred.

"Precisely," Dynar nodded. "Nenalata is quite a ways from the Temple, and we have… strained relations with many of our neighbors. While we were obliged to attend the festival, it would have been foolish for my father to leave the city unattended."

Atkynd's ear twitched slightly at the mention of Nenalata having a poor relationship with its neighbors, and when he remembered that Dynar had also noted his position as an emissary, he suddenly realized that the prince likely hadn't invited him and Tari along just out of a sense of altruism. Not that he was complaining.

Once they had finished crossing the bridge, they could see the port city of Vanua spread out below them at the bottom of a steep bank. Unlike Fanacasecul, whose ships seemed to be of secondary importance to its luxurious services, Vanua was wholly dedicated to maritime activities. Not only was its harbor at least twice as large as Fanacasecul's, part of the city itself was built over the water. Half of its buildings were situated along the western bank of the mainland, while the other half rested on carved marble platforms floating on the surface of the river, with canals serving as watery roads between the warehouses and dockyards.

"Fascinating!" Atkynd remarked as they stepped off the bridge and began making their way down the bank towards the city. "Is the stone enchanted to keep it afloat?"

"Partially. The rest is clever engineering, I'm told," Dynar replied. "The platforms have a base of light but durable wood. The marble you see is merely a thin layer for aesthetic purposes, and as you said, it's all enchanted to keep it buoyant. It's all a spectacle, designed to demonstrate Vanua's mastery over the water. Come," he added, motioning for Atkynd and Tari to follow him.

After they dismounted, the Ayleid prince led them through the gates of Vanua – Atkynd noticed that the guards didn't bat an eyelash at them, for once – then briskly guided them through the streets to the docks. Atkynd and Tari struggled to keep pace as they hurried past fishermen hauling loads of herring and clams, past craftsmen repairing nets and spears, and under the statue of an elf standing proudly on the prow of a ship. It took Atkynd a moment to recognize the figure as Topal the Pilot, the ancient navigator who had first discovered the Niben River and had followed it to the interior of Cyrod. It was fitting that the Ayleids would honor him, he thought, as without Topal, they wouldn't have found their homeland in the first place.

Dynar finally slowed his pace as the docks came into view, and he strode purposefully towards a galley bearing a sail with vertical blue and white stripes. One hundred Nedic slaves were seated on benches, gripping oars and waiting for the signal to begin rowing. Atkynd noticed, to his surprise, that none of them were chained, though a pair of taskmasters hovered over them, gripping coiled whips and glaring down at them. As they approached the ship, an Ayleid wearing a loose blue chiton stepped off the boat and bowed to Dynar.

"You're a bit behind schedule, Your Highness," the mer said, raising his head when Dynar motioned for him to.

"Apologies, captain. We decided to bring some guests with us. One of them is from a kingdom in Malabal, and I'm hoping to introduce him to my father," he explained motioning to Atkynd and Tari. Atkynd inclined his head politely, while Tari shrank into herself and bowed deeply. The captain frowned at them, then turned back to Dynar.

"Indeed? If I might remind Your Highness, your father is attempting to remain as neutral as possible and not draw attention to Nenalata," the captain scolded him. "Inviting humans-"

"You forget yourself, Orilel!" Dynar said sharply. Then he softened his tone and added, "Thank you for your concern. If my father believes I have erred, he and I shall discuss it. For now, however, please treat these two as our honored guests."

"…Forgive me, Your Highness. At once," the captain replied, bowing. He then turned to Atkynd and Tari, flashing a smile that was only half-strained. "If you would like to take a seat near the front of the ship, we'll be departing shortly."

Atkynd inclined his head again by way of thanks, and he made his way to the seat the captain had indicated. Emero was led towards the back of the ship and tied to one of the posts near the other horses. A nervous nicker was his only sign of unease, but he didn't resist being secured to the ship. Thankfully, Emero had been trained to remain calm on the water.

Tari settled beside him and craned her neck over the side of the ship, though she still gripped his arm. She cautiously peered into the deep blue water lapping the hull beside them, eyeing the algae drifting on the surface.

"Is this your first time sailing?" Atkynd asked in a low voice.

"No… but it's been a few years since the last time I was on a ship," Tari whispered back. To his surprise, a smile crept across her face. "I did enjoy it, though. Lady Arcanalata took me and a few other slaves with her down to Atatar so we could gather ingredients from the nearby swamp. We didn't have to row, so I rather enjoyed the journey. I still remember the cool breeze, the smell of the water, and especially the wind blowing my hair around from how fast we were sailing. It… it was fun."

Atkynd smiled lightly at her nostalgic expression as the captain ordered the slaves to raise the anchor. The ship slowly drifted away from the docks as the slaves pulled the oars, following the steady drumbeats of one of the Ayleid sailors. The ship deftly maneuvered out of the harbor and turned south, at which point the captain ordered the large sail unfurled. The slaves' rhythm was directed by the drum for about a minute, and when the captain was satisfied that they had memorized the tempo, he motioned for the drummer to stop, though the taskmasters continued to keep a close eye on the Nedes to ensure they kept pace.

Atkynd spent a while enjoying the trip in silence, gazing out over the edge of the ship towards the choppy blue water below. The sounds of the jungle echoed from the nearby shore, but they were somewhat muted, and Atkynd felt some of the tension he'd been living with for the past few days start to melt away. It was the first time in quite a while that he had been able to relax. It was a nice change, letting someone else lead the way for a bit, he thought to himself.

"I must say, I'm surprised that your king has expressed an interest in trading with Cyrod, considering how remote Malabal is, and the difficulties in traveling here," Dynar remarked, snapping Atkynd out of his thoughts. He took a slow breath, privately wishing he could have had just a few more moments to himself, then slipped back into a formal diplomatic mindset.

"I won't deny that my journey has been difficult," Atkynd said, sitting forward slightly on the bench and lacing his fingers together. "But I've learned several valuable lessons about the potential trade routes. For instance, the mountain paths that wind through the north are only a viable option in the summer, and even then, they're beset by creatures like trolls and orcs. Any caravan that travels between our lands will have to be well-defended, or the goods will be taken. That's part of the reason why I wanted to return to Malabal by sea, to determine if an oceanic route is any easier." He frowned slightly and added, "But you said that there's been trouble on the Niben?"

"Unfortunately," Dynar sighed, folding his arms as he leaned back against the hull of the ship. "There's an ongoing naval war between the states of Bawn and Anutwyll that has made travel through the southern Niben dangerous. Many of the central and southern Nibenese kingdoms have suffered because of the war, including Nenalata. Normally, we would be content to let the two cities fight as they please, so long as they involved no one else, but ships from both sides have turned to piracy, seizing passing merchant ships and demanding ransom under the pretense that 'they might be selling wares to the enemy,' and other such flimsy excuses. That's part of the reason why I volunteered to travel to the White-Gold City in my father's stead," he added. "I wanted to impress upon the nobles the severity of the war, and request their aid in ending it."

"I assume you were unsuccessful," Atkynd said. "Otherwise, you wouldn't sound so disheartened."

Dynar shook his head. "The nobles in the White-Gold City don't consider a petty war between two remote kingdoms worth their attention. Minor wars are common in Cyrod, and though the White-Gold City is the strongest of the city-states, it's hardly a hegemon that can keep the other kingdoms in line. Worse, both Bawn and Anutwyll have avoided attacking White-Gold ships, so trade is still flowing to the city. Thus, the nobles see no reason to get involved." He spat bitterly over the side of the ship, scowling with frustration.

"And this is affecting the other kingdoms in the region? But your captain… Orilel? He said that your father intended to keep Nenalata neutral?" Atkynd asked.

"He's tried to, yes," Dynar confirmed. "We have few allies as it is, so we can't afford to anger either side, especially since both Bawn and Anutwyll have also fought with us from time to time, and we don't have good relations with either city. Not that our neutrality has prevented them from raiding our ships anyways," he muttered. "Yet my father insists that we maintain our stance. He hopes that Anutwyll and Bawn will waste their strength fighting each other, which will strengthen our own position. However, as I said, we don't have any regional allies that we can band together with. Worse, I don't believe joining one side or the other would help us, as there's little to be gained, and I fear our temporary ally would turn on us once the war ended. That's why I'm exploring… other options."

"Such as foreign alliances," Atkynd concluded, unable to keep from smiling. Dynar chuckled ruefully. "Unfortunately, I'm unsure how much aid we can lend. As I said, we'd be happy to trade with you, but Nenalata is quite a ways from Malabal – almost on the opposite side of the continent. Goods delivered overland will take a very long time to reach you, and if both Bawn and Anutwyll are raiding any ship that sails up the Niben, regardless of origin… why wouldn't they attack Bjoulsae ships as well? I'm afraid it wouldn't be a very effective solution to your problem."

"…So you won't help us?" Dynar asked slowly.

"I didn't say that. We can certainly discuss a trade agreement. I simply want you to temper your expectations," Atkynd warned the Ayleid. "At best, you might receive your first shipments of goods in three months, provided nothing goes wrong. It'll likely be even longer than that if we're forced to travel overland and the snows set in."

"…I see," Dynar sighed. "Of course, I didn't expect this to be much of a solution. I'm fully aware of the difficulties of transporting goods across the continent, and I'm aware it'll be a risky investment for both of us. Nevertheless… would you still be willing to speak with my father?"

"Of course. That's why I came to Cyrod, after all. And it's the least I can do to repay you for your kindness. Once we arrive in Nenalata, I would be happy to discuss opening a trade route with him, if he's amenable," Atkynd assured him. Dynar smiled and sat back slightly in his seat, looking out over the water with a pensive expression.

"Thank you. As I said, I know this is a poor solution at best, but I'm growing desperate. I can no longer sit idly by and do nothing while my kingdom decays around me. I fear that by the time my father dies, I won't have a kingdom to rule," Dynar said softly. "We've been in a steady decline for decades."

"You said that you no longer had allies? So you did once?" Atkynd asked, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together. When Dynar nodded, he asked, "What happened?"

"I'd rather not go into it right now. It's a bitter memory for many of us," Dynar said, eyeing Orilel. "To make a long story short, we were on the periphery of a destructive war that saw many of our traditional allies destroyed," he explained. "We were spared destruction, but we've been isolated ever since. We've been surviving by the skin of our teeth for decades."

"I'm sorry," Atkynd said softly. Then he smiled a bit more brightly. "Still, with such an energetic prince on the throne, I'm sure Nenalata's fortunes will turn around. Your reign will no doubt herald a golden age for the…." He hesitated, then added, "I'm… afraid I don't know the name of your dynasty."

"Dynar," the Ayleid replied. When Atkynd stared at him, confused, he quickly explained, "Some Ayleid states refuse to name the crown prince, instead referring to him by his title and his dynasty's name. When we ascend to the throne, we choose our own regal name, based upon how we wish to rule, our intended legacy, or what we see in the times ahead. Thus, when I am king of Nenalata, I will select a new name. For now, I am merely the Crown Prince of the Dynar dynasty."

"Interesting. I've never heard of such a tradition," Atkynd admitted.

"It's not uncommon in Cyrod to be given a name based upon your deeds or personality," Dynar said. "We believe names should be earned, not given." He regarded Atkynd for a brief moment, then added, "Though if I might be frank, I find your name a bit peculiar."

"Do you?" Atkynd asked, chuckling as he leaned back on the bench, folding his arms. "'Elder Child.' It's a rather common name for firstborn Manmeri children where I'm from."

"How so?" Tari piped up beside him, startling him slightly. Atkynd glanced down at her, feeling Dynar's own curious gaze lingering on him.

"The half-elven children of Nedic concubines are given designations to differentiate us, but often we're simply referred to as 'first child,' 'second child,' and so forth. Particularly if our parents are nobility. It's considered an insult to trueborn elven children to assume we're on the same social level that they are, and thus worthy of a unique name, so we're typically referred to by a number, with our surnames reflecting the names of our parents. While it's not unheard of for Manmeri children to be given a personal name beyond our birth number, it is uncommon," Atkynd explained.

"Still, it's odd that the 'elder' part of your name is 'At' as opposed to 'Ald,'" Dynar noted.

"Once again, that's because I'm only half-elven," Atkynd replied. After thinking about it for a moment, Dynar's eyes widened with understanding, and he nodded. However, when he saw Tari looking at him curiously, he explained, "Some elven parents do name their elven children 'Aldkynd,' which also translates to 'elder child.' However, the 'At' in my name refers to the far northern continent of Atmora, which is where humans are said to have originated. 'Ald,' meanwhile, is part of the name for the earliest elves, the Aldmer. Thus, elven children and human children are distinguished by the form of 'elder' used, so that there's no confusion."

"Hm… you mentioned, though, that this convention typically only applies to the children of nobles," Dynar pointed out, a sly look on his face.

"Yes. As you suspect, such is the case for me," Atkynd confirmed nonchalantly. "My father is the King of the Bjoulsae."

Tari's mouth fell open, while Dynar's grin widened. "You… didn't mention that you were a prince!" Tari exclaimed. Then she turned red. "My apologies, Your Highness! I didn't mean to insult-!"

"Stop, stop," Atkynd laughed, holding up a hand. "Yes, by the loosest definition of the term, you could call me a prince. That said, even the basest elven bastard from the most distant kingdom has more of a claim to the throne of the Bjoulsae than I. Manmeri aren't recognized as part of the line of succession for any title of nobility in Malabal, and no one would ever address me as 'prince.' We are, at best, treated as upper middle-class commoners, and that's if our parents deign to recognize us. So please, don't treat me like I'm a noble. It's not warranted… and I much prefer how familiar you are with me," he added, flashing a warm smile at Tari, who flushed again, but inclined her head in a quick nod.

"If I might ask something?" Dynar asked. Atkynd nodded, and he continued, "You were given a designation rather than a name, and you have no claim to the throne. Is that why you chose to become an emissary? Do you perhaps have a poor relationship with your father, or feel a need to prove yourself?"

"Not at all," Atkynd said, frowning with confusion. "My relationship with my fa- my king is excellent, actually. Although my mother is his concubine and not his wife, she's my father's favorite. He adores her more than his legal wife, actually. My mother's wit and wisdom drew him to her at a young age, and he's treated her as a trusted advisor for years. He even gave her a proper name: Sunnagea – 'Blessed Wisdom.' Such a thing is rare for a Nede.

"Even when I was young, he made it clear to me that he had high hopes for me as well, as he later told me that he was praying that I'd inherited my mother's cleverness. I was given an education almost on par with my elven half-brothers – I was taught how to read and write, how to figure numbers, and how to use a sword. Still, I had little ambition, and I was lax in my studies, which disappointed him. He later told me that he had almost declared me a lost cause." Atkynd grinned sheepishly as he looked down at his folded hands. "That said, I was always drawn to stories, and when I was a teenager, I befriended a traveling elven bard named Sillemeratu who had come to our court to sing. I was fascinated by the poetry and tales he shared, and I begged him to teach me his craft. He was surprised, but pleased to have such an eager apprentice, and he agreed to stay for a few more months. My father enjoyed his performances, so he didn't mind lending Sillemeratu a room.

"Under his guidance, I began memorizing old stories and songs, and he even taught me a couple spells that he had learned during his travels. Of course, my father was aware that I was studying under him, but he paid it little mind, as at least I was finally interested in something. Still, I was rather surprised when he summoned me one day. He had been looking for me in my room when he had found one of the original poems that I had written, and it impressed him. He told me that my poetry had demonstrated that I had a talent for wordcraft, and that he could put such talent to use, that it was a waste to let me become a mere bard. Thus, he shifted the focus of my studies to languages and etiquette, training me to become an emissary in his service." Atkynd chuckled as he added, "While I was unhappy with his decision for a while, I believe now that it was for the best. After all, I would have made a poor bard. I'm a rather mediocre musician."

"Is this your first assignment, then?" Dynar asked.

"No. Though it is my first time traveling outside of Malabal. My father used me as a messenger to some of the other kingdoms in Malabal for a few years, after I'd completed my studies to his satisfaction," Atkynd responded. "He found that I was especially skilled at dealing with visiting Nords, as they seemed more open with me than with the mer rulers. I believe that's why he sent me to Cyrod," he added as an afterthought. "I'm used to dealing with both humans and elves. Perhaps my father felt Cyrod would be much like the borderlands of Malabal, like the Reach."

"Obviously he was mistaken," Dynar said drily.

"Obviously," Atkynd agreed, laughing sardonically. "Still, it's been a worthwhile experience. After all, this is only my first journey to another land, and I've already learned much. And this part of the trip has been quite pleasant… this morning notwithstanding."

Dynar laughed, and for the next few hours, they fell into an easy conversation, swapping stories about growing up in their respective courts. Despite the regional differences, they found that many of their experiences were surprisingly similar. Court life was simultaneously dangerous and exciting for both of them, and each had tales of preening nobles, vicious scandals, and their individual struggles in their respective hierarchies. Dynar confirmed Atkynd's long-held belief that while his high rank did grant him significant power, his position in the upper echelons of his court also restricted the number of moves he could safely make, while simultaneously making him a more visible target for plots. Dynar even seemed to almost envy Atkynd for his comparatively low rank. While the two men traded stories, Tari listened quietly beside him, her eyes darting between the two men. She didn't interject, or even ask questions, but Atkynd knew she was drinking in every word.

Eventually, slightly past midday, Dynar suggested that they eat. Upon hearing this, of the slaves immediately shuffled over to a collection of barrels near the rear of the ship and withdrew three loaves of soft, tan bread, several wedges of sharp white cheese, and fresh green grapes, which she dropped into wooden bowls before delivering them to the prince. Dynar nodded at the slave before dismissing her and handing both Atkynd and Tari their share. Tari balked at taking the meal directly from the prince's hands, but Dynar's level gaze and a soft squeeze on her wrist from Atkynd encouraged her to tentatively accept the offering, muttering profuse thanks while keeping her head down.

As they were finishing their meal, they approached another Ayleid port, which Captain Orilel identified as Culotte. Atkynd leaned on the edge of the ship, gazing at the ships bobbing in the harbor, all bearing red sails with a white dolphin. They didn't pass close enough for him to get a good look at the city, but he did notice a magnificent, winged statue situated beneath a towering lighthouse. Captain Orilel, however, frowned deeply as he gazed at the structure looming over them.

"Your Highness," he said, walking to the front of the ship. "Look at those red flags. The lighthouse keeper is indicating that there's danger on the river ahead. We may wish to put into port for the time being."

"Do you know what the danger is, specifically?" Dynar asked. Atkynd swallowed the grape in his mouth and dusted his hands of crumbs, listening closely.

"No, Highness," Orilel admitted. "It could be a number of things. Usually, it's a warning about a storm downriver, but there's not a cloud in the sky. Should we perhaps dock in Culotte, learn what's wrong, and wait for the danger to pass?"

Dynar folded his arms, staring at the lighthouse, and then he turned his attention back to Orilel. "We're already late. Continue sailing… but hug the coastline. If there's indeed danger ahead, if we're near the shore, we'll at least be able to disembark quickly if necessary."

"We run the risk of running aground if we do, Highness," Orilel warned him. "And if we don't know what awaits us-!"

"We're not docking in Culotte!" Dynar said firmly, narrowing his eyes. "They may be neutral in the war right now, but I don't want to give them the chance to seize a royal hostage. We've been made aware of the danger, and we'll remain alert. Now continue sailing, captain."

"…Aye, Highness," Orilel confirmed reluctantly. Atkynd and Tari traded looks as Dynar turned his back on the rest of the ship and stared stonily ahead, his arms folded over his chest.

Though no one dared question Dynar's order to continue the voyage, there was a palpable sense of unease hanging over the crew as they drifted south. Ironically, the longer they sailed without any clear indication of what awaited them, the more worried everyone became. Atkynd's stomach became twisted in knots, and Tari began fidgeting beside him. Dynar folded his hands behind his back and began pacing the length of the ship, while Orilel stared stoically ahead of him, avoiding eye contact with the prince.

As the afternoon wore on, a heavy silence settled over the ship. The only sounds were the lapping of the water against the hull and the steady creaking of the slaves' oars as they pulled through the water. Towards late afternoon, Dynar broke the silence when he paused and squinted at something from where he was standing near the bow.

"Strange. You said before that we shouldn't expect a storm, right captain?" he remarked. "Are those stormclouds on the horizon? They seem rather low."

Orilel pushed himself up from the tiller, leaving it in the hands of another one of the Ayleid sailors, and he came to stand beside the captain. Atkynd pushed himself off his bench as well, squinting as he struggled to see. The captain peered towards where Dynar was pointing, and then he shook his head grimly. "Those aren't stormclouds, Your Highness. That's smoke."

"Smoke?" Dynar repeated, frowning. "Why would there be smoke on the water?"

"Perhaps it's a fire in the jungle," Orilel suggested. "Though I find that unlikely, as it's been particularly wet lately. This must be the danger Culotte was warning us of – the fire must have been burning for a while." He hesitated, then asked, "Though it'll be difficult to do so, should we turn around and try to sail back up the river?"

"…No," Dynar answered after pondering for a few moments. "If it's just in the jungle, it's no danger to us. Continue on our present course." After a moment's thought, he added, "But proceed cautiously."

"Aye, Highness," Orilel acknowledged reluctantly. The ship continued its journey south as the smoke in the distance grew thicker. When the first flickers of flames were visible on the horizon, the anxiety that Atkynd had been feeling evolved into full-fledged fear. He leaned over the edge to see more clearly, and his heart sank when he finally caught sight of the source of the blaze.

They were approaching a point in the river where it more than doubled in width. At first, Atkynd assumed they were entering a lake, but then he remembered that the Niben was one continuous river.

Over a dozen galleys with green sails were anchored near where the river widened, and the ships were engaged with several other galleys bearing sails of yellow and red. Five of the ships were alight with flames, pouring thick clouds of billowing black smoke into the air. Though it was difficult to see from where they were, Atkynd could make out occasional flashes of fire and tiny figures leaping from ship to ship, using them as platforms to engage their opponents in furious fighting.

"So that's it," Dynar sighed, tapping his fingers irritably on his bicep. "Anutwyll decided to try setting another blockade. It seems that Bawn was quicker to respond to it this time."

"This time?" Atkynd echoed, glancing at Dynar.

"Anutwyll is located near the mouth of the river where it widens," Dynar explained, scowling to himself. "One of their favorite tactics is to set a blockade where the river is narrowest and hold that position to choke trade with the north. Their first blockade was quite successful, but the next two attempts merely resulted in their navy getting demolished by Bawn. Though… the king of Bawn was in Fanacasecul. Perhaps Anutwyll were hoping to catch him when he was returning down the Niben."

"More importantly, Highness, what are your orders?" Orilel asked, staring grimly at the furious battle that they were steadily approaching. "It's too late for us to turn around now, I'm afraid. The current is too strong."

"Dynar sighed, rubbing his temples. "I confess, I made a mistake by not heeding Culotte's warning. That was rash of me, and you all have my apologies for my poor judgment. Nevertheless, we now have no choice but to try and break through this blockade. While I believe Anutwyll wishes to capture the king of Bawn, rather than us, I have no doubt that they would relish the chance to ransom the Prince of Nenalata instead, given the chance. Bawn, too, will gladly take advantage of the confusion of the battle and capture us should they emerge victorious."

"What are your orders, then?" Orilel repeated, grimacing.

Dynar hunched over and considered the battle for a few moments, tapping his fingers against the hull of the ship. "We'll use the chaos of the battle as cover," he said finally. He pointed to a gap in the blockade between a pair of burning ships, adding, "We'll slip through that break in their formation. The smoke is thick there, so it should cover our movements. Hopefully, we won't attract too much attention."

"What if the wind shifts?" Tari piped up. Dynar regarded her as she flinched back into herself, but then he smiled down at her.

"We'll simply have to hope it doesn't," he replied quietly. "Captain?"

"As Your Highness wishes," Orilel bowed. He directed the ship to the southeast, while Dynar held his hand up.

"Guards! Ready your weapons." He then glanced at Atkynd, adding, "You claimed you have training with a sword?"

"…Yes," Atkynd said slowly, glancing away with an uncomfortable look on his face.

"Good. I won't ask you to defend me, but you should at least defend yourself," Dynar said.

Atkynd swallowed, but nodded and slowly drew the bronze shortsword hanging at his hip. His hand trembled as he gripped the leather-wrapped hilt tightly, his heart pounding as the ship drifted closer to the smoldering blockade.

The closer they sailed towards the line of ships, the clearer the sounds of battle echoed around them. Atkynd was almost deafened by the din of metal clanging on metal, the shouts of warriors as they cleaved their opponents, the screams of the wounded and dying. The smell of burning wood mixed with salt and blood washed over their ship, and as they drifted even closer to one of the burning wrecks, Atkynd could feel the heat of the flames on his face. He loosened the cloak wrapped around his shoulders as the heat made him sweat profusely.

Finally, Orilel ordered the sail raised, and he angled the ship between the burning wrecks of two Anutwyll gallies, apparently unnoticed by the rest of the battle. A cloud of smoke washed over the ship, and Atkynd gathered his discarded cloak over his mouth. He wasn't the only one to begin coughing as smoke filled his lungs, though thankfully Orilel kept the ship sailing straight between the wrecks. The gap was just wide enough for them to narrowly avoid the burning hulls of the ships on either side of them, though the slaves had to pull their oars in a bit as they slipped past.

When they were halfway through, however, a furious cry erupted from Atkynd's left. An Ayleid sailor still on board one of the wrecks, ashen-faced and wild-eyed, pointed to their ship and yelled at someone or something over his shoulder. Four other sailors emerged from the wreckage, and they immediately clambered towards the ship, swords raised over their head. Atkynd couldn't tell if they were suicidally trying to attack them, or simply desperate to get aboard and escape their own sinking vessel. It didn't matter, though – the swords flashing in their hands made it clear that they didn't intend to politely ask to come aboard.

Dynar was quicker to react than Atkynd was. The first sailor made a wild leap towards the side of the ship, and Dynar stepped back. The sailor's legs just barely cleared the deck, but as he was trying to regain his balance, Dynar unceremoniously kicked him in the torso. The sailor stumbled backwards, clutching his stomach, and toppled over the edge of the boat into the water. He yelled and thrashed, clawing for one of the nearby oars. The slave holding it panicked and screamed, shaking it furiously, as though an insect was trying to crawl up his arm. The sailor's fingers slipped from the wood, and he sank into the choppy waters.

Two other sailors had also managed to leap aboard, but Dynar's guards had already engaged the invaders, and were locked with them in a furious struggle. One was grappling with his opponent, their swords lying discarded at their feet, while the other sailor was desperately trying to fend off two of Dynar's guards at once. Atkynd looked up as the smoke began to clear, and his eyes widened as he saw the fourth sailor from the group had not yet climbed aboard. He was crouched atop the wreckage of his ship, gripping a drawn bow, which was pointed at Orilel, who was too busy shouting orders at the sailors manning the tillers to notice.

In a split-second, Atkynd weighed his options. He didn't have a bow, of course, and he was a poor shot even if he'd been armed with one. He also certainly wasn't going to try running across a burning wreck to engage the archer in melee. His only option, then, was to use a calm spell. Of course, it would be difficult to aim in the chaos of the skirmish, and he wasn't even sure it would work. When tensions were running high – especially when people were in a state of panic – it was more difficult to calm their emotions. Still, he had to do something before the captain was shot.

Atkynd forced himself to take a deep breath, to calm himself and ignore the battle raging around him, and then he focused. Green sparks crackled between his fingers, and he raised his left hand, staring past his fingers at the archer. As he exhaled, he released the magic. An aqua-colored bolt streaked across the hull of the ship, hurtling towards the archer. The Ayleid noticed it at the last moment and jerked out of the way, cleanly avoiding it. However, his sudden movement caused him to lose his footing on the slick surface of the ship, and he let out a cry as he slid off the wood and landed in the water with a splash. The bolt of magic, meanwhile, flew several more feet before dissipating harmlessly in the air.

Atkynd lowered his hand, feeling a giddy rush of success wash over him. Despite the dire situation they were still in, he let out a soft laugh of disbelief, his eyes still fixated on the spot where the archer had been moments before. Then he heard a pained yell behind him, accompanied by the sound of something metal slicing into something wet. Atkynd spun around to see that the last Ayleid sailor had jumped on board behind him and had been about to slash him across the back, when Tari had slipped behind the attacker and driven the bronze knife Atkynd had given her into the back of the elf's knee. The man's face contorted in pain, and then mute shock, as he slumped to the deck. His body twitched and spasmed, and he seemed to be struggling to push himself up. Atkynd's elation quickly gave way to terror as he realized how close he had been to death. Had Tari not been watching his back….

Tari noticed the dazed look he was giving the struggling Ayleid, and she held up her knife. "Morning glory nectar mixed with nightshade," she explained quietly. "When I was foraging this morning, I found some flowers. If you mix those two ingredients together, you'll create a poison that numbs and weakens the body. His sword will feel as though it weighs hundreds of pounds now."

"Then he'll sink that much faster," Dynar said from behind her. He stepped around her and turned the Ayleid away from them, then unceremoniously slashed him across the throat. Blood sprayed into the water below them, and Dynar kicked him over the side before pulling out his waterskin and dousing it over his blade to wash it off. As he wiped his blade on a cloth, he added, "Both of you did well. I saw you cast that spell, Atkynd. You saved Orilel's life. And Tari, well done protecting Atkynd."

"Yes, thank you," Atkynd agreed. "That's the third time you've saved my life now. I really must stop making it a habit."

Tari flushed and glanced away, bowing her head meekly at the praise. "No thanks necessary," she murmured. Atkynd and Dynar traded amused glances before the prince turned his attention back from the deck of his ship to the battle raging around them. Atkynd likewise gazed around apprehensively to see where they were.

To his surprise and relief, in the time it had taken them to fight off the boarding party, their galley had drifted past the smoldering ships and through the blockade. With open water ahead of them, the captain unfurled the sail again and ordered the slaves to row faster. The drummer helping the slaves keep time increased his tempo, and as the Nedes responded, the ship slowly began to pick up speed.

Some of the other sailors on nearby ships noticed Dynar's vessel slipping past them, and a few pointed and shouted. However, as the two fleets were completely entangled with each other, none had the chance to pull away and pursue Dynar's ship, and even the sailors pointing out the escaping galley soon had to return their attention to the battle. After several tense minutes, it became apparent that no one was pursuing them, and Dynar finally let out a slow sigh of relief.

"Well done, all of you!" he said, turning to address his crew. "Once again, my apologies for my error in judgment. You all rose to the occasion, and you have my gratitude. As a reward, once we return to Nenalata, I'll see to it that you slaves are treated to an excellent meal, and you sailors will receive a bonus for your service!"

A cheer rose from the crew, human and elf alike, and Dynar inclined his head towards them in thanks before turning back around to monitor the ship's progress down the river. Tari stared at his back silently for several moments before leaning over and whispering to Atkynd, "Incredible. I've never seen an Ayleid admit fault, much less reward their servants like that." She folded her hands behind her back, regarding the prince thoughtfully. "He's rash, but he clearly cares about others. It's… truly a shame there aren't more Ayleid kings like him."

"There aren't many kings like him, period," Atkynd amended, folding his arms over his chest as he sat back in his seat. "I'll certainly have to recommend him to my father. It'd be a waste not to have him as an ally."

After the excitement of breaking through the blockade, the remainder of the trip was mercifully uneventful. Though they had made good time, it was past sundown by the time the ship began pulling into the docks of Nenalata. Unlike the other port cities that Atkynd had seen on the Niben, Atkynd noticed that Nenalata's docks extended into both the Niben and one of the wide branches that flowed to the east, towards Argonia. The city itself was dominated by a round marble citadel, perched on a corner of land that guarded the entrance to the smaller river branching off the Niben. Atkynd could see low marble walls beyond the fortress, which he assumed was where the rest of the houses of the city lay. He couldn't see past the gates, however, and he realized moments later that any desire of his to see more of the city would have to wait.

Standing on the docks of Nenalata was a tall, proud Ayleid wearing polished bronze armor, complete with an ornate helm etched with sweeping feather patterns perched on his head. A bright blue cloak fluttered behind him as he approached the ship, a smile spreading across his face as his eyes fell on Dynar.

"My son," he said in a warm voice as soon as the ship was tied to the docks. Dynar stepped off the ship, and his father immediately clasped him in a tight embrace. "I began to fear for the worst when you were delayed! When I heard that Anutwyll had set a blockade, I feared-"

"We were almost caught in it, yes, but we managed to slip past it," Dynar assured his father. "Bawn chose a rather opportune moment to let Anutwyll know what they thought of their fleet controlling the Niben. We merely took advantage of the chaos."

King Dynar regarded his son silently for several long moments, but then a smile once again creased its way across his lined face. "Bold, son. Foolish, but bold. I'm glad that you're unharmed. Now, I know that you've just arrived, but there's much we must discuss. First, we should-"

"Actually, father, speaking of that," Prince Dynar interrupted. The king fell silent, raising an eyebrow. "There's someone I feel you should meet." He motioned for Atkynd, who stepped forward and bowed before the King of Nenalata. "This is Atkynd, an emissary from the Kingdom of the Bjoulsae. He came to Cyrod with the intention of helping us establish new trade routes with the north. I feel we would do well to consider his offer."

The king continued to stare at Atkynd silently for several long moments until he belatedly realized that Atkynd was waiting for permission to raise his head. "I see. Well met, emissary," he said, his tone polite, but noticeably strained. "The Bjoulsae, you said? That's quite a journey you've made. This is the first time we've ever had the opportunity to treat with your people."

"It's been a journey well worth making, Your Majesty," Atkynd said, raising his head and smiling warmly as he folded his hands in front of him. "Prince Dynar has been most gracious, and I'm in his debt for his assistance in guiding me here. I would be more than happy to return to Bjoulsae with a very lucrative trade proposal for Nenalata, if you're interested. I've brought with me some high-quality tin that I'm sure you-"

"Please, forgive me, emissary," King Dynar interrupted gently, holding up his hand. "I appreciate that you've traveled far, and I'm pleased that my son has given a good impression of our city. However, I feel I must decline your offer, generous as it is."

Atkynd faltered at the king's immediate denial of his proposition, falling silent. A scowl spread across the prince's face, and he stepped a bit closer. "Father, Atkynd is offering us essential goods, such as tin," the prince insisted.

"Once the war with Bawn and Anutwyll has subsided, trade along the Niben will resume as normal," the king replied patiently. "Then we can resume our profitable relationship with the White Gold Tower and the northern cities. There's no need to stir up Veyond and the other southern kingdoms with the arrival of foreign ships."

"But… how much longer will this war last?" Dynar pointed out. "If it-"

"Your youth is showing, son. Wars like this have come and gone before, and I'm certain this one will also end shortly," his father retorted, his smile wavering. "It is better to simply outlast it and not make any overt moves. You must be patient."

"It's difficult to be patient if there are imminent threats to our survival on our doorstep!" Dynar exclaimed, raising his voice. "If Anutwyll or Bawn achieve a crushing victory in this war, they could set their sights on us, and-!"

"We cannot afford to draw attention to ourselves!" the king shouted, silencing the younger Ayleid immediately, and everyone else nearby flinched. "Yes, the threats we face are on our doorstep, and trading with a kingdom on the other side of the continent cannot possibly provide enough aid to ensure our survival! It will only draw the eyes of our enemies and seal our doom!"

Prince Dynar was reduced to silently glaring at his father as the king turned to Atkynd, who unconsciously shied away from the king slightly. "Thank you for your generous offer, emissary," he said in a more measured tone. "However, I do not feel a trade deal with your kingdom is in our best interest right now." He smiled and added, "Please, feel free to rest here for a night or two, and buy any supplies you need, but then I would recommend you continue on your way."
"…As you say, Your Majesty," Atkynd said reluctantly, realizing he wouldn't have any luck convincing the king. He shot Prince Dynar a glance, and the Ayleid shrugged helplessly, sighing quietly. Atkynd quirked his mouth in regret before bowing again. "Thank you for your generous offer. We'd be happy to accept it."

"Very well. You'll find a traveler's house in the city. Take this seal and they'll provide a bed and food for you and your companions for as long as you're in the city," King Dynar said, handing Atkynd a small clay seal. He smiled again, a smile that was weighed down with regret, even hopelessness. The expression only lasted a moment, however, and he quickly straightened up again and turned towards the prince. "In the meantime, son, we have much to discuss. Come."

The king raised his hand, and the guards who had been following him turned and marched beside him off the dock. Atkynd and the prince traded one more glance before Dynar shook his head and sighed, following his father with a scowl plastered on his face. Atkynd watched him walk off until he felt Tari brush her shoulder against his arm.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly.

"I'm fine. He's the one I'm worried about," Atkynd replied, nodding after Dynar. "He's the first Ayleid I've actually wanted to help, and the first one that I've been told I can't."

Tari stared after Dynar as well. Then she turned her gaze to the king's retreating back and said softly, "You can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped."

"A fair point," Atkynd agreed, glancing after the king as well, before shaking his head. "Ah well. In the meantime, our journey isn't over, and there is one person I can help. And she's standing beside me," he said, smiling warmly down at her. "Let's get some food, shall we?"

The next morning, Atkynd was adjusting Emero's reins while Tari strapped their supplies to the horse's back. A warm mist hung in the air as they worked near the stables outside of Nenalata, which initially obscured a figure approaching them from the gates until they drew closer.

"My guards said they had seen you two departing. I'm pleased that I managed to catch you before you left," Prince Dynar announced, his hands folded behind his back. He had traded his bronze armor for a dark blue chiton that reached his ankles, giving him a more relaxed air, though he still maintained his regal bearing. Atkynd and Tari both bowed as he approached, but he waved them off.

"Yes, well, we have a long journey ahead of us," Atkynd explained. "Your captain assured us that we can't sail any further down the Niben, so we'll have to travel on foot."

"I'm sorry about that," Dynar winced. "And while I wish that I could provide you with an escort, my father is adamant that our soldiers are not to be seen on the roads. He's… grown increasingly cautious lately."

Atkynd finished bridling Emero and turned towards Dynar, frowning deeply. "Might I ask a question? What exactly happened to make your father… so…?"

"Timid?" Dynar sighed softly. "About fifty years ago, my father was present for the Scouring of Wendelbek. Wendelbek was one of our closest allies, so it was a major blow to us when the Daedraphiles banded together to raze it. He witnessed… atrocities. You've seen what my countrymen are capable of, so I'm certain you can imagine. Though we were allied with Wendelbek, Nenalata's patron is Meridia, so we narrowly escaped the same fate. However, since then, my father has been keenly aware of how tenuous his position is. He sees himself beset by enemies on all sides, and he fears that any move to grab power, or even steady our decline, could provoke them into banding together against him as they did to Wendelbek."

Atkynd folded his arms, frowning thoughtfully. "But if he doesn't treat with anyone, Nenalata will continue to weaken anyways."

"Indeed," Dynar sighed. "I understand my father's position, but his inaction is slowly killing us. At this rate, it's only a matter of time before we waste away. Our enemies will have defeated us without ever turning their blades in our direction."

Atkynd shook his head. "I'm sorry. I wish there was more I could do."

"Without my father's approval, there's nothing you can do," Dynar replied, his voice tinged with regret. "But… the sentiment is appreciated. In the meantime, all I can do is hope that something happens to change my father's mind about his isolation."

"Well, when it does, let me know. I'll keep the contracts drawn up," Atkynd assured him.

Dynar suddenly grinned, holding his hand out. Atkynd blinked in surprise, but then he grinned as well as he clasped the Ayleid by the forearm, and the two men nodded briefly before letting go. "I'll anticipate your return then," he said. He then turned to Tari, adding, "It was wonderful to meet you as well. I hope you're enjoying your freedom."

"Thus far, Your Highness, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," Tari replied modestly.

"Good. Do look out for each other. The roads to the south are very dangerous, and rumor has it that they've somehow become even deadlier in the past few weeks," Dynar said.

"Well, seeing as we've been in constant danger since we began this journey, at least we'll know what to expect," Atkynd replied drily.

Dynar laughed as Atkynd and Tari mounted Emero. "Safe paths, both of you," Dynar said. Atkynd inclined his head and turned Emero around, and resisting the urge to glance pityingly back at Nenalata, he flicked the reins, urging his horse south along the muddy road.