A windy morning dawned, sending soft shadows over the landscape below. The sun rose amid clouds of gold, orange and pink. It lightened the sky, banishing the darkness that held it over the night hours. The people of Aramadad looked to the East with new hope. The sun still rose so the darkness had not won.

Yet.

The King leaned back in his throne as the sunlight touched the dais it stood upon. Another day brought hope to his people. It brought despair to him. Where was his son? Where was Calad, Heir to Aramadad?

One of his captains opened the door to his throne room with a clatter. "Milord," He began, bowing at the King's feet, "Iderodren has sent us help to push back the Dark King. At least thirty and three thousand."

The King looked at the messenger. "At least Iderodren still has hope." He said blandly.

There was a span of silence between them. Finally, the captain spoke again. "They have brought word from your son, milord."

"They have spoken with Calad?" The King asked, his eyes flicking back the messenger.

"No, milord. They bring news from Captain Takid. He still holds the Northern border despite the raids from the Dark King's armies." The man answered.

"You may go." The King said after a few more moments' silence.

"Yes, milord." The messenger replied and left his presence with another bow.



A bird-call to the right, a shaking of bushes to the left. The new dawn brought only silence to the wilderness that marked Nerodrin's Northern border. However, the men and the horses there were unrested.

For seven days they had been fighting the Dark King's soldiers without any respite. Their nemesis did not care how many men he lost, he could just ensnare more. However, the Nerodrin people were few to begin with and fewer still after three years of war.

Takid, second son of King Emhei, rode ahead of his men on their patrol route. His horse had a steady, easy gait and a placid temperament. Until her rider told her to kill. Then the bay mare turned into a whirlwind of teeth and hooves. Like all of his company's horses.

The silence of the new morning was suddenly shattered by the clatter of hooves and the whizzing of arrows. The clang of metal against metal, the cries of men and the overall chaos of battle rang through the air. The Nerodrin broke into a gallop towards the sounds.

Amongst the cries, they could hear one they all recognized: "Nedera kee fentar!"

The battle cry of their own people. Takid unsheathed his sword as he and his company rode straight into the battle. In the center, he could see his brother, Calad, Heir of Nerodrin, fighting the dirty mountain men. "Nedera kee fentar!" Takid cried and drove his mount into the battle.

***

"Open the gates!" The cry rang throughout the city. "Open the gates! The Princes return!"

Takid smiled tiredly at his brother. "Home again." He croaked, clutching his side.

"Do not speak, Takid." His brother urged. "Your wound worsens with the passing of every day. Speaking only speeds the process."

"Father shall not be pleased that I survived." The younger observed, laughing hoarsely.

"No more words are to come from your mouth, Brother, or I will knock you over the head to make you save your strength." Calad threatened with a small smile.

Takid smiled back with a weak and pained air. He knew King Emhei would not be pleased to see his younger son away from the Northern border. He would, however, be pleased to see his older son whom had been gone as emissary to Iderodren.

They rode through the streets of the city amid cheers of the people. At least they were happy to see the brothers.

"Welcome back to Aramadad, Princes." Their father's steward said with a bow. "The King wishes to see you both."

Takid dismounted with a wince and handed his mare - Keennta - over to the grooms. "A good mash for her, if you please." He said softly. "It's been a wet journey."

The groom nodded. "She is in good hands, milord." He said.

Takid patted the mare on the neck before walking - forcing himself not to limp - to his brother's side. The two then made their way into the large manor-castle of their father's with brave faces and poses. However, the younger of the two quivered inwardly. What would his father think of him now?

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