Civilians of Queensend were fast asleep.

Rain drizzled throughout the night; the steady pitter patter of droplets against rooftops lulling even the most attentive guards into nodding off. Children snuggled against the warmth of their mothers under cozy blankets, stomachs full and hearts light.

Past midnight, rain faded too, enveloping the small town in cool tranquility that was only broken by the plink of rain drops falling from eaves into puddles below. An owl hooted in the distance, somewhere a dog howled at the full moon peeking through raven clouds.

Dong! Dong! Dong!

The wild clang of the tolling bell roared through the night, its desperate pleas waking Gods in heavens above.

The bell, that had been silent for three long years.

Dong! Dong! Dong!

Men flooded into streets, weapons in hands, locking the doors after them to keep families safe. The dark town illuminated with torches, smell of burning oil permeating the crisp air.

"What happened?" a troubled voice asked another.

"Another attack?"

"After three years?"

Patrolling guards sprinted, tearing through the mass gathered in the streets. 

"Move! Move!"

Their boots sloshed as they stomped over the mud, one even slipped and fell. He picked himself up and bolted behind the squad, his face marred with tangible terror.

The sea of heads parted at the familiar neigh, making way for the galloping white horse and the woman riding it. With a commanding pull of the reins, she brought it to an abrupt halt. The beast reared its front hooves high into the air and snorted in agitation.

She was the face every Queensend folk knew and loved- children and elderly alike. She sat poised and steady among the commotion. The hem of her night gown was blotched with mud and blood, dainty feet bare even in the biting cold. The river of brown hair stuck to her skin, drenched in the rain. Only a white overcoat carrying a golden threaded head of stag protected her from the chill.

Her hazel eyes darted around, from one concerned face to another. The tension in her shoulders tightened further in disapproval.

"Please don't crowd the street." Her voice was gentle, yet its firm tone made the cobblestone path clear in an instant.

"Please stay on high alert," she ordered. "We are looking for two disguised attackers. One slightly taller than me and very dangerous. The other about this tall, fast but lacks in close range combat." She held her hand up and winced.

"Do not confront them alone, alarm the squads immediately."

Everyone nodded in unison, sun scorched faces set firm with determination.

"We are closing the borders. Split and search every corner of Queensend. They couldn't have gotten far."

"Is it the East?" a voice asked from the gathering, laden with venom. "What happened, Lady Ayla?"

The future queen of North sucked air through her teeth and regarded the crowd. "We don't know yet. But capital was informed, back up is on the way. We must find them before dawn."

Hushed whispers rose and fell before her voice pierced through again.

"They took the princess from her chambers."

And all hell broke loose.

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Raven Alistair sprawled on the granite slab; arms folded behind his head. He listened to the rain outside and thought back to five days ago.

That was when he last saw River Verlice.

He sighed but it didn't relieve the tightness in his chest. Instead, he breathed in a lungful of dampness and moss that clung to the cool, rough stone wall. Shadows danced across the uneven floor as a solitary beam of moonlight filtered through a crack in the ceiling, casting eerie patterns inside the cave.

Something was wrong.

He tuned to his side, closed his eyes; trying to get some sleep. The stones poked him. After rolling and twisting for a good while, he abandoned any thoughts of getting rest.

"Fuck my foot!" He kicked his legs in frustration and sprang up.

Pacing around the cave, he tried to gather his thoughts yet only managed to get dizzy from walking in circles after a few minutes. He sat back down with a huff and crossed his arms on his chest.

Wolfram and Aithan left earlier, saying they were going to inspect the Vorine Shrine. They were not supposed to go inside, under any condition, until River signaled they could. When Raven tried to join them in their little investigation, Wolfram urged him to stay behind, not so kindly too.

"Three people? We might as well beat a drum and do the Summer Harvesting dance as we go" Wolfram rolled his eyes as he put on a dark cloak.

"And you are taking this horny, red headed, fucking bean pole?" Raven argued, pointing at Aithan. "How is that any less discreet?"

Wolfram sighed, adjusting the hood around his face. "Oh, scared of the dark, are we? Do you need a cuddly toy to hold until we come back?"

Aithan patted Raven on his back, calming him down before he could punch Wolfram's nose in. "We are just going to observe the layout of the Shrine. Stay behind and rest."

They had been gone for a few long hours now. Restlessness crept up Raven's heart like a vicious snake and he wiggled his toes in his boots to ease the feeling of impending disaster.

What was taking them so long? Did they go inside? Were they in a bind?

Although Raven was sure they were busy sucking each other's faces somewhere, he wished for them to return soon. Having the blue-eyed boy out of his sight was taunting enough. Last thing he wanted was his brother to go missing, leaving him alone. He didn't like how Aithan averted his eyes when he walked out one bit, either. He knew they both were keeping something from him, and it gnawed at him.

"Aaaaa" he groaned into his hands and the cave groaned back at him.

He just couldn't get River out of his head. Every time he left the boy alone had led to one calamity or another.

Five days, and there was still not a word from him.

Last time Raven took his eyes off him, the younger boy went missing for a month and nearly got beheaded. He made the mistake of leaving him on his own devices again on Clementine, and he got impaled. 

From the day they met, there had hardly been a day when River was not bleeding or crying.

Raven suddenly remembered how he dragged River's lifeless body out the ocean the day Kaizer tried to sacrifice him. He had fished out more dead people than he cared to count in the same manner, heavy and cold.

He recalled how glassy and empty those eyes he loved looked, how he was not breathing. How he smelled of salt, how cold his pruned hands were. How dead he looked.

No matter how much Raven tried to breath him back to life, he laid there on the wooden deck, limp and unmoving. His head lolled around, mouth hanging open.

For a tormenting second, it felt like Raven's world was crumbling like a stale biscuit thrown against a wall. He had been a second too late, and it had almost costed him the life the boy he loved silently. 

He knew River could have died on that deck, if Wolfram was not there.

Despite how much he loathed his brother's flamboyant asshole of a lover, Raven was grateful to have him around. River ran into danger like a pigeon witnessing breadcrumbs for the first time, and it was only thanks to Wolfram that Raven was not weeping at yet another burial.

It never made sense to Raven how the boy acted with the naïve bravado of an undead, never once hesitating to use himself as meat shield. He had never once witnessed River asking for help, either.

He had seen people being reduced to a mere shell of the person they used be. They lived like nothing mattered to them anymore, like they were only breathing because they were too much of a coward to go ahead and die. He knew River was one of them, someone who leaves the door wide open to welcome death when he comes knocking.

Raven knew from the first night they met at the banquet, from the way his eyes looked. This boy had been through something far more painful than living his life in the darkness. Something that made him forget that he was a person too.

Raven reclined against the damp wall and stared into the darkness.

Somewhere far away, a bell tolled. Its muted clamour got drawned in the thunder.

He wondered where River was now.

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The morning after River's breakdown, Raven woke up to a cold floor and empty hands.

He heard Aithan and Wolfram muttering, and it sounded like they were having a disagreement about something. When they saw him stirring, the whispering died abruptly.

"Good ev-." Aithan greeted him soflty from the other corner of the hall, but was interrupted by Wolfram.

"You look like you ate sand for dinner" he remarked.

It was still dark, probably a few hours before dawn. The fire had been lit anew; the scent of smoke still fresh in the air.

Aithan was an early riser. What surprised Raven was seeing Wolfram up as well. He had been awake for a while now, it seemed. He has changed into a new set of loose-fitting robes, his hair tightly braided.

"Where is River?" He croaked, glancing around. Save three of them,the hall was empty. The Verlice brothers were gone without a trace.

Aithan and Wolfram shared a look, subtle yet there.

"He went to take a stroll" Wolfram announced loudly, pointing at the door.

Raven's forehead furrowed, trying to get his brain rid of the fog. He looked at the wide opened door, and then at his brother. 

Why was his head hurting so much?

"A stroll?" he echoed, sitting up. He swallowed down the nausea and wiped away involuntary tears from his eye. "Where?"

There was a long, pregnant silence.

"To Sandgill" Aithan replied, finally.

Raven nodded, rubbing his eyes. His throat had gone dry strangely. It felt like the first day he woke up hangover when he was 12, just even more doomed.

He snapped his head up, wide awake now. "The fuck you said. Who went fucking where?"

There was another long silence.

"I see ya ain't suckin' each other's cocks so answer my fuckin' question!"

 Raven thundered, making Aithan put a defensive arm in front of Wolfram. Raven felt his anger boiling over when he couldn't find anything to throw at them.

"He escaped to Sandgil with Valor Verlice." Aithan explained calmly.

"The fuck he didn't!" Raven's sword was in his hand before he knew it, flooding the dark chamber with golden light. He had no intention of stabbing anyone with it, but depending on how next few minutes unfolded, he just might.

"Put the sword down, Seagull." Wolfram deadpanned. "He went to Azure fort, your castle."

Raven pressed a hand to his throbbing temples. "Then he should go with me or Aithan! And he didn't want to go at all! I asked him!"

"He had a change of mind. He went with Valor to distract the troops from Queensend so we can go infiltrate Vorine shrine – "

"Fuck Vorine and fuck you, Aithan! Why on earth would you let him go alone!"

"He went with his brother- "

"Fuck that mongrel too!" Raven leaned against his sword for balance, feeling his world reel. 

If he kept screaming, he might hurl, but that was not going to stop him from screaming. "He just tried to choke him to death! And you are telling me that he willingly went with him?"

"Seagull, it was the best option, best for his safety too" Wolfram urged. "Valor and you both wanted him to go to Sandgil, yes? I didn't want him to go to Queensend, either"

"Sandgill is on the other side of the fucking nation!!" Raven hollered, stomping his feet. "Who is going to fucking protect him on the way? That dried up cumbucket?"

 This bitch could heal himself, right? So, it's ok if he stabbed him, right?

"Make it make sense! Why would he come here in the first place then?" Raven pulled on his hair, trying to vent his anger. "He literally told me we shouldn't split up!"

"If you could calm down for a  minute," Wolfram reasoned, stepping infront of him. "He had a plan, a good one."

"Brat always has a plan!" Raven fisted Wolfram's collar and shook him violently, making him squeal. "None of them was fucking good!"

"Listen" Aithan pulled Wolfram back from Raven's hold, his voice firm yet calm and collected. "He will go to Sandgill and construct a container for the metal piece with the gold we have. Once he embarks from Frostgate, the journey is mostly safe, and he is going with Valor."

Raven stared at his brother's amber eyes and gulped down a thick lump of bile. 

What the fuck was making him this squeezy?

"Lucian Verlice wouldn't kill his elder son. While the attention is on them, we can extract the metal piece from the Vorine shrine and you can go see him in Sandgill after that"

"No!" Raven turned on his heel, staggering towards the door. "Fuck no! He will fucking die before he makes it past the border! I can't believe you let him go!"

"He is not as weak as you think he is Seagull!" Wolfram yelled after him, before Aithan could silence him with a nudge.

Raven slowly turned his head, glaring at them. "Weak? Who? River?"

He scoffed, a sinister curl forming on his lips. "That boy would devour me alive. I'm not concerned about him being weak. I'm damn worried about him throwing his life away at the drop of a hat!"

It was useless arguing with them. River couldn't have gone far. Esterhull harbor was only few hours away, if he ran, he could make it just before he embarks. 

Then he can clobber him to his heart's content for leaving recklessly.

"Where are you going now?" Wolfram sighed, watching him swaying away.

"I'm going to break his fucking ankles!" growling, Raven stomped towards the door.

"They left last night" Wolfram declared, and it froze the Southern king in his tracks as if thunder struck him from heavens above.

"What?" Raven shook his head in disbelief, seeing doubles. "The fuck?"

"I don't know how either, but you slept through the whole day" Aithan reasoned. His eyes narrowed as well in profound confusion.

"I did what?" The southern king wiped a shaking hand down his face, feeling a layer of sweat. "But how-"

"He didn't want to say goodbye to you" Wolfram pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. "He said you would throw a hissy fit and then he wouldn't have the heart to leave."

He chuckled. "Which you did."

"He also said you will try to follow him, so that he had to leave before you wake up" Aithan added, tapping his chin. "He wanted us to leave at nightfall for Queensend and wait for him to release my sigil before we enter the Shrine."

"But why would he –" Raven choked, biting his lip. "This is the second fucking time! Why can't he at least tell me-"

He buried his face in his hands in frustration. "Why can't he say goodbye when he leaves! Why should I always have to wake up to find him fucking gone!"

That's when he felt something rather odd. Something was wrong with his hands.

Raven stared at his fingers, trying to figure out what was amiss. The Southern Ring glistened on his left hand, a golden band of a serpent. Three black rings shone on his right, as they had been for the past decade.

Three.

The pinkie ring was missing.

"This has the muscle relaxant, this one poison."

"He ..drugged me." Raven whispered.

"What?" Aithan jumped a brow in realization. "Oh!"

Raven felt a giggle bubbling in his throat, and he couldn't help but laugh heartily. Giving up his determination to chase after the boy he slumped on the floor again, cackling like a maniac.

"The brat drugged me!" He slapped his thigh. "Nicely played, River!"

It was as if they had come a full circle from where they began. 

"I guess I have no choice but to listen to him, then." Raven got back to his feet, dusting his rear. "When are we leaving for Queensend? Let's get this done with soon, so I can go and punch his face."

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Raven woke up yet again, in the dark cold cave.

While being lost in his day dreaming, he had fallen into a troubled sleep. Now, he was jolted by a sound in the distance.

He crawled to his feet, drowsily, his sword materializing in his hands.

There were frantic footsteps reverberating through the cave passages.

He took a combative stance, poised to gut anyone who had made it into their hideout.

Two cloaked figures rushed into the cave chamber bringing in the scent of rain and blood with them. They both had their faces concealed under dark veils. The taller one had an obvious gash on the left side of his chest. They were both panting and huffing, as if they had ran all the way here.

"Aithan!" Raven exclaimed, reaching out to his brother for support. "What the fuck happened! Did you go into the Shrine! What- "

His deluge of questions was interrupted by a piercing cry, apparently coming from inside Wolfram's folds of cloak. Raven jumped back with a yelp, startled to his core.

"Wha- what?" He stammered, looking between the two men, his jaw slack with shock.

Wolfram sat on a nearby rock silently and took out a bundle of sheets from inside; the one he had been cuddling since he walked in. the cries were coming from that, seemingly.

"You picked up a stray cat?" Raven quipped in dismay, and gently pulled the sheets apart, hoping to to see a wet, mewling kitten.

However, he got the shock of his life when a tiny baby face peeked through, stained with tears. The baby had oddly familiar black eyes and soft black hair. Her chubby little face has gone red from screeching from top of her lungs.

"Seagull! You woke her up!" Wolfram scolded, bouncing the baby in his arms.

"Why the fuck do you have a baby in the first place!!" Raven screamed back over the baby crying, which made her cry even louder.

"She is lady Azize Verlice" Aithan said solemnly, looking in to Raven's widened eyes.

"you.." Raven stumbled over his words, unable to process the words he was about to say. "You stole River's niece?!"