Why had she decided to follow these people?

They were nothing in the grand scheme of things, only tiny waves rushing about on the vast ocean of time, disappearing in a short second. And yet, she was drawn to them.

As the years had passed, she'd tried to convince herself to travel alone, remain solitary, avoid relationships. They'd always ended badly anyway.

Now, these wretched people were bringing her closer, step by step, inch by inch, back to the woman she used to be. And she hated it.

As they rode along through the thick trees, Rose recalled a simpler time when she had passed through these woods, alone and on foot. Back then, she traveled between twilight and dawn, keeping to the darkness. Now, the sun peeked through the leaves, irritating her skin and making her feel exposed and vulnerable. But she had grown accustomed to the feeling, and only occasionally had to sift darkness over her exposed skin to calm the irritation.

Lifting her eyes, she looked through the trees. At the head of their long procession sat Lavitz, proud and dutiful as ever, leading them southeast along the edge of the mountains. She eyed his freshly cropped hair, a blatant disaster until Shana had graciously fixed the problem that morning. Although Rose respected Lavitz's devoted service to Basil, she couldn't help but be irritated by it as well. Any allegiances she had borne had long since died, and she no longer saw the purpose of loyalty. It seemed a futile and naïve behavior. Or maybe, he just reminded her of the time when her allegiances had run strong. She had since accepted that all people die, and there was no escaping fate.

Running down the line, she eyed her companions. When she was being truly objective, it seemed as if each of them represented a facet of who she used be: Lavitz her loyalty, Dart her devotion, and Shana her kindness. She hated the reminders and daily tried to invent a reason to leave these people. But where would she go? Wherever dragoons gathered, important things would happen, and she knew that the most interesting events would form around this group of people. And it was about time she had some decent entertainment.

As much as she hated to admit it, she'd grown comfortable with them. Sometimes, it felt like the early part of her life, a time spent cavorting around with her friends, turning a blind eye to responsibilities until they became too great to ignore. She'd actually enjoyed her time with Dart in Lohan, watching the matches in the arena and criticizing sloppy techniques. For the first time in what felt like forever, she'd felt wanted and appreciated.

Even Shana had come to confide in her and get validation for her emotions, and she'd had many conversations with Lavitz about Dart and Shana. Perhaps, she was letting them too close to her. She tried to keep them at bay, or even leave them behind, but every time she tried, something grabbed hold of her and pulled her back. She desperately wanted to break the relationships now before they became something dangerous. But she feared that she may have already been too late.

"Hey."

Her concentration broken, she turned to see Haschel and forced herself not to roll her eyes. Of all these people, he was the only one that gave her true pause. His intentions with them were hazy at best, and she didn't like what little she knew of him. To make matters worse, he was a horrendous flirt, and if she hadn't threatened to cut off his arm a few days ago, she doubted that he ever would have stopped. He seemed intent on cracking her shell, to get into the meat hidden inside, but she would never let that happen.

"Have you ever been to this prison?" he asked.

"No," she replied simply, avoiding eye contact.

"I've heard terrible stories," he pressed. "I worry about what they're putting the king through right now."

She remained silent. After watching her warily for a minute, he spoke again.

"You don't like me much, do you?"

"I don't know you."

"I don't know you, either, and I like you."

"We're different."

"Why do you shut people out?" he asked.

Incessant questions, her mind groaned, and she turned to glare at him. He recoiled, and she called the darkness to her, wrapping it around her in the barest sense, but achieving her desired intent. Haschel raised his hands in surrender. Reluctantly, she let the darkness fade as she resumed her stony glare into the forest ahead.

"Alright, alright," he said calmly, but she could hear the trembling behind his voice. "One day, if you ever want to talk about it, we'll listen. That's what friends do."

Friends, she scoffed. He didn't even know the meaning of the word. And how could he? It may have been a long time since she'd had true friends, but she knew that he was not among them.

"Then maybe we could talk about something else," suggested Haschel.

"Like what?" She didn't even try to hide her irritation.

"Like dragoons. How does that work exactly?"

She sighed. The same rhetoric again and again. "Dragoon spirits choose someone to wield their power, and then that person becomes a dragoon. They use the power concealed within the dragoon spirit to wield magic, manipulating one of the seven elements."

"I've always heard there were four… Fire, water, earth, and air."

"Yes, everyone seems to forget light, dark, and electricity."

"Right... And you're dark... Shana's light, Dart is fire, and Lavitz is wind?"

"Yes."

"Wait," he said suddenly. "So, there are three more dragoon spirits out in the world?"

"Somewhere, yes."

"Do you know where?"

She shot him a skeptical glance. "How would I know something like that?"

He shrugged. "If anyone did, it would be you."

I'm not the only one who would know, she thought.

It had been only briefly, but Greham had mentioned a nearly forgotten name of lore in the dragon's nest. He'd said that Emperor Doel had somehow aligned himself with Diaz, a hero of the Dragon Campaign who had died eleven thousand years ago – the leader of the ancient human rebellion.

Emperor Doel and Emperor Diaz, she mused.

Diaz had been handed the title in a humorous defiance of the wingly dictatorship, and now the similarity struck Rose. Perhaps Doel was citing fantasies to make himself more viable for the kingship of Serdio. While she had initially dismissed Greham's claims of Diaz's influence, she could not help but wonder if such a thing could explain the source of Greham's dragoon spirit. Who else could know where to look for legendary artifacts of the ancient world?

"How did you get your dragoon spirit?" asked Haschel.

Her teeth ground together unpleasantly as she clenched her jaw. She wished that she were talking to Lavitz, who would always tread carefully around her past. And yet, unbidden memories came flooding back to her with just the one. She saw the trees, the glade, and him.

"It was a long time ago. I found it... in the north."

"You're not going to give me the details, are you?"

She shook her head slightly. She smelled the evergreens, felt the heat of his hand in hers, his chest keeping her warm in the bitter cold of winter.

A twig snapped, dragging her back to the present. She forcefully ignored Haschel, and eventually, he took the hint and rode forward to talk to the others. Effectively alone, she let her shoulders drop, breathing in deeply. It was not often she relived the grief. A moment later, she took a deep breath and buried the emotions under layers of rubble, back into their tomb that Haschel had split open with just a few words. Once again, she was the dark dragoon.

For several more hours, they traveled in silence. Rose sensed the tension mounting among them but ignored it. The time passed dully, with little but the movement of the sun to track it. At last, the trees thinned, and Lavitz urged them into a trot, eager to get to the prison. Eventually, their path turned south as the southern tip of the Serdian Mountains blocked their path. Lavitz cursed as he realized the time they had lost traveling through the forest and suggested that they stop for a few hours before sundown and then travel through the night. Rose couldn't deny the sweet appeal of moving under the cover of darkness, but she hid her enthusiasm and let the others decide. After they all agreed to this plan, they traveled for a few more hours until the sun started crawling toward the horizon once again. They stopped near a small stream running down the mountains toward the sea, letting the horses drink their fill while they refilled their waterskins and made camp.

"I'll take watch," offered Lavitz. "You guys get some sleep."

Dart opened his mouth to protest, but Rose spoke first: "I got it. You sleep."

"I'm not so sure I can," replied Lavitz, and she saw the pit of worry inside him. But more than this, she saw the dark circles under his eyes and the limp way he walked about. Some swirl of emotion sparked within her.

"You'll be fine. I'll take watch."

His eyes were a mixture of gratitude and regret as they bored into her soul, and she turned away, setting herself up against a tree. The camp felt confined in the tight crevices of the forest. Every piece of ground was covered in bony roots, and Rose watched in amusement as each person constantly turned about in a vain effort to find comfort. Eventually, Haschel spoke up.

"This is impossible," he complained. "All these roots, and it's not nearly dark enough to sleep."

"Maybe you should shut up," said Dart. "I bet that would help."

A soft chuckle came from Lavitz, who appeared to be the most accustomed to such frustrating sleeping conditions. Rose wondered if he would really be able to sleep, or if any of them would. Lavitz's plan was a good one, but they would need their strength when wandering into a high-security prison.

"Here," she said. She generated a wave of darkness and let it flow over the camp, carefully disconnecting it from the terror that usually accompanied it, until it covered all but Shana. A couple gasps rang out as Haschel and Dart opened their eyes to what appeared to be dusk, and Rose noticed Shana visibly pull away from the dark cloud, though she was several feet from it.

"That's crazy," said Haschel, lifting his hand to ogle it in the darkness. "How did you do that?"

"Magic," she said simply. "Now get to sleep. I'm tired of hearing your sad excuses for conversations."

"No need to be so mean about it," he mumbled.

"Thank you, Rose," whispered Lavitz, so softly that she didn't think anyone else heard. She glanced at him. He already appeared to be asleep, but that didn't seem likely, given the thoughts that plagued him. Those feelings came back, and she sighed. The urgency he felt – that intense desire to save someone close to him – was something that she had felt herself. Every day, her failure plagued her, and now, she wished every success upon Lavitz.

She turned away from him abruptly and focused on holding the darkness in place.

The king had gotten the barest amount of sleep the night before, and now he could not help but doze against the pillar. As his head dipped forward, his unkempt hair blew about, sliding down over his shoulders that were still so tight from the shackles. A moment later, a tight pain shot through his right shoulder as the muscle contracted violently, and he was jolted awake as he stiffened in response. He struggled to stretch out the muscle, tilting his head as much as possible, but it would not relax. Breathing heavily, he waited, until finally the intense hurt dissipated, giving way to a dull throb.

His heavy eyes glanced around him, and he was disappointed to see that it was only late evening. The last rays of the sun pierced his eyes, and he shifted slightly until the light was hidden behind a pillar.

Laying his head back, he glared up at the dark ceiling. His body was giving up on him. Sleep was impossible to find for more than a few minutes at a time, and he had eaten nothing for two days. This morning, the guards had brought him a meager amount of water, just enough to keep him alive for their purposes, but he had had none since. His lips had cracked and bled, and his eyes constantly teared to keep from drying out. His face and chest felt raw from the constant buffeting gale, and bruises ached all over his body from the rough treatment given to him in the Sandora camp. And now, tight cramps frequented his shoulders and chest.

He wondered how much longer he would survive.

But it did not really matter, in the end. Fruegel's orders were clear: wait until the third day and kill him. That day was soon approaching, ever closer as the time dragged on. Once morning came, there would be nothing between the king and death. And then there would be nothing between his people and the evil dictatorship of Emperor Doel.

And yet, the barest glimmer of hope fought stalwartly to live within him. It was useless, really, and served little purpose other than to keep him alive for the next five minutes, and then the next. Although the hope dwindled with the twilight, some part of him, buried beneath the pain, exhaustion, and dehydration, believed that Lavitz would come.

Angry shouts sounded from the stairwell, and Albert perked to attention. He struggled to hear over the wind, but he thought that he recognized Fruegel's voice. The other was unknown to him, but suddenly it screamed in pain before falling silent. Then heavy footfalls ascended the stairs, and a moment later, Fruegel emerged, spattered with blood. The king grimaced.

"Good news," said Fruegel's gravelly voice. "I'm going to stay up here with you tonight."

"Why?" asked the king, his voice scratchy and barely more than a whisper.

"Let's just say... to keep you safe." A vile grin played across Fruegel's face, and Albert closed his eyes in contempt. But deep inside, the glimmer of hope strengthened. A personal guard from the head warden could only mean the possibility of rescue.

He heard Fruegel sit on the other side of the platform, and silence fell, painful and awkward. It appeared to irritate Fruegel more than Albert, as the warden soon broke it.

"What kinds of perks do you have being the king?" he asked. When Albert did not acknowledge the query, Fruegel continued. "You must have all sorts of nice things lined up for you. Delicious feasts, cozy beds... And let's not forget servants that do whatever you want, day or night."

The king shifted uncomfortably.

"What's the cost of refusing the king, I wonder?" continued Fruegel. "A prison sentence? Beheading? Surely not anything good. They must fear you." He eyed Albert, waiting for a reaction. When none came, he pressed harder. "How many servants find their way into your chambers? You must get the cream of the crop! How many women spread their legs for you in a month?"

Albert felt bile rise in the back of his mouth, and he turned away. For an instant, his mind filled with the desire to break free of his chains and throttle Fruegel until the light left his eyes. But he said nothing.

Breaking out into a deep laugh, Fruegel took a few steps closer and said, "You don't want to talk to me, O honorable king? We're going to be up here all night, after all. We should get to know each other."

"I have no means with which to speak to vulgar men," said the king through gritted teeth.

The great brute, grinning to finally get a response, neared Albert, kneeling on one knee, eager to make him more uncomfortable. It worked.

"Well, that's too bad," he said. "Because this 'vulgar man' is going to be the one to kill you tomorrow. And whether I decide to make it quick and painless, or long and agonizing, is dependent on how much you decide to anger me."

A faint smile played at the king's lips as he said, "So, I die either way. Not much incentive, is it?"

Anger flashed over Fruegel, and he drew a knife from his belt and brought it down quickly into Albert's thigh. The movement was too sudden, and the king cried out as he felt the blade pierce through muscle and bone. Fruegel pulled the knife out, and blood poured forth as pain wracked the king's body. He blinked as tears caused his vision to blur, and his head spun.

"That is what you get for talking back," said Fruegel, still scowling as he wiped the blade on his trousers and replaced it. Then he turned, walking away, and called something down the stairs. A moment later, a guard ran up with a bandage.

"Patch him up," growled Fruegel. "We can't have him bleeding out before morning."

The guard rushed over and hurriedly tied the bandage around the wound, causing the king to gasp multiple times with unnecessary pressure. Then he turned and ran back down the stairs with a frightened glance toward the head warden.

"Get some sleep, Your Majesty," said Fruegel, settling next to a pillar. "Big day tomorrow."

Breathing heavily, the king knew that he would find no rest tonight. Instead, he closed his eyes and turned his thoughts and prayers to Lavitz. He was the only one who could save Basil now.

Night fell, and Rose retracted her magic. All were now asleep, and Haschel snored off to the side. Rose noticed that Shana had left her dragoon spirit out of her pocket, allowing its light to keep her company. It made sense; without the fire, Shana would be surrounded by complete darkness with the moon's light hidden above the trees. Rose remembered that night in Lohan, when Shana had peered too deeply at her after their short conversation. Rose had grown afraid, and reacted harshly, leaving Shana in a darkness that Rose had known would haunt her. And yet, Shana had closed the curtains again, letting Rose have the night. Such kindness was not something that Rose was familiar with, not anymore.

While they slept, Rose felt into the night and reached over Shana, trying to pull the dark away from her, but she grew frustrated when it didn't work. She could create and manipulate darkness, but not generate light. Shana would have to do that herself.

Rose waited two more hours past sundown before waking anyone; she wanted to make sure that they got proper rest. She began with Lavitz, shaking his shoulder gently. He woke with a start but adjusted quickly. Gazing up at her, he smiled, and Rose turned away, but Lavitz grabbed her hand and held it fast.

Turning back to him, she prepared to yank her hand out of his grasp, but she froze when she saw his eyes. They were full of fear and anxiety, but beneath these emotions was a peculiar thing that she refused to recognize.

"Thank you for letting us rest," whispered Lavitz. "Will you be okay?"

"I'll be fine," replied Rose curtly, and she wrenched her hand away and moved on to the others.

In twenty minutes, they were on the move again. They headed south, keeping close to the mountains for another several hours before the trees gave way to a lush grassland. The grass pods swayed to an unheard tune as a soft breeze glided over them, and Rose noticed Lavitz looking a little stronger for it, glad to be out in the open and not stifled underneath a canopy of branches.

With no trees in their way, they traveled faster, reaching a gallop before long. The moons shone brightly overhead at first, but several thick clouds drifted in from the southern ocean and blocked the light, letting Rose feel more at ease. She could not say the same for the rest; the closer they got to the prison, the tenser everyone became.

An hour or two past midnight, they were startled by distant shouts. Glancing to her right, Rose could just make out several horsemen in the distance, some of them pointing in their direction. A second later, they were speeding toward them.

"Go!" shouted Dart. But Lavitz slowed his horse, forcing the rest to stop as he whirled about to face the soldiers.

"What are you doing?" asked Rose incredulously. "We're well ahead of them!"

"They're just going to keep chasing us unless we fight them!" said Lavitz, something wild in his eyes. "We need to get them out of the way."

He steeled himself, whirling his lance as he drew it off his back and dismounted. Dart followed suit, as he always did, and drew his sword before placing himself next to Lavitz. Shana readied her bow, and Haschel leapt to the ground. It seems you all have this handled, thought Rose sourly.

Less than a minute later, the enemy soldiers were firing arrows at them, but Lavitz did little more than raise his hand to knock them aside with a gust. Then the soldiers dismounted and charged. Despite the darkness, their Sandoran uniforms could not be mistaken.

Rose watched silently as everyone was thrown into a frenzy. Dart and Lavitz slashed and stabbed while Haschel struck and kicked. Shana carefully aimed her bow and picked off the two archers who had been hanging back, and Rose was surprised to see a streak of light shimmer around the second arrow. As Shana grinned at her magic, Dart cut down a soldier, leaving only one alive. Lavitz beat him to his knees with a well-placed strike, blew him backward with an outstretched hand, and brought his lance down on his neck.

"Excellent slaughter," said Rose drily. "Now can we get going?"

"You didn't want to bother to help?" asked Lavitz, an edge to his voice for the first time.

"You obviously didn't need it."

He tightened his jaw and swung onto his horse. As soon as the rest were mounted, they were off again.

An unspoken worry now hung over them all: they'd been discovered by Sandora, and they were being hunted. No doubt, Hellena Prison would be ready for them.

Only a couple hours before dawn, the ocean came into view, a vast expanse of darkness past the edge of the world. If not for the pounding of horses' hooves, Rose thought they might be able to hear the waves crashing onto the sandy shore. The tip of the Serdian Mountains jutted out into the ocean, slowly being carved back by time, and would have blocked their path completely had the road not been cut out long ago.

"There it is!" called out Lavitz. "The passage through! We're almost there!"

They rode up to the narrow passage and turned down it, following the rock-cluttered path. High walls of stone towered up around them, strangely eerie in the fading moonlight. The rough ground forced them to slow as they passed, and the irritation oozed out of Lavitz.

Suddenly, they stopped. The end of the narrow passage was in sight, but just beyond it lay a barricade manned by at least thirty Hellena guards.

"How are we going to get through that?" asked Haschel quietly.

"No problem, really," replied Lavitz casually, and with that he rode forward until he was within forty feet of the barricade.

"Halt!" cried out one of the guards. Instantly, at least a dozen arrows were trained on Lavitz's heart. Shana tensed and prepared to fire back as she and the others moved closer to Lavitz.

"No one is allowed to pass through, on pain of death, by order of His Majesty Doel!" said the guard.

"Luckily," called back Lavitz, "I don't care."

He dismounted and flourished his lance just as Rose felt the familiar tingle from her dragoon spirit heralding a nearby transformation. As Lavitz's boots hit the rocky earth, the arrows were loosed. Then a flash of green light pierced the dark, and Rose felt the painful itch over her exposed skin and threw up a barrier of darkness as wind whipped through the passage. A second later, the fully transformed Lavitz batted away the arrows and charged forward.

"Lavitz!" Dart shouted, but Lavitz did not slow. Shana released her arrow, but the powerful winds wrapping around the wrathful knight blew it far off course, and it shattered against the hard rock.

The enraged dragoon descended on the barricade, summoning a storm about him. The patchwork wood was blown into splinters, and the guards were lifted off the ground, screaming in terror. Swirls of debris circled him. Lavitz held up his hand and clenched it into a tight fist, and the air whistled in response as it was directed into tight columns, bearing aloft shards of rock and shafts of wood, boring them into each of the guards. Blood sprayed in all directions.

And then all fell still and silent.

Rose was taken aback. Such a feat should only have been possible from a well-seasoned dragoon, trained through years of combat. It was with a start that she realized the power of true fealty, and wondered what Lavitz would be capable of should something happen to the king he loved so dearly. But her shock paled in comparison to the others'. Dart and Shana held their mouths agape, and Haschel looked like he might fall off his horse.

The path before them was clear except for scattered rubble, and Lavitz sank slowly to the ground. Once he'd reverted to human form, he turned back to them, eyes trained on the ground, and said, "Let's go."

With uneasy hearts, they moved forward, eager to reach the end of their journey. Shana watched with horror as they passed by Lavitz's carnage, the lifeless bodies littered around, and Dart cast frequent glances over to Lavitz.

As they moved past the remains of the barricade, Rose lifted her eyes to the black mass of Hellena Prison that stood before them. Although she had seen the tower from a distance before, she had to admit that it seemed much more ominous in the scattered moonlight. She only hoped, for Lavitz's sake, that the king was still alive inside.