Timmy stepped into the room, his boots soft on the stone, grinning as if he’d snuck into the Duke’s vaults undetected. Timmy opened his arms slightly, teasing. “Thought you might need a break from all those dusty scrolls.”
Spud stood slowly, his hand still resting on the page he’d been reading. “Timmy? What—what are you doing here?”
Before Timmy could answer, a firedrake darted through the open window, wings shimmering with dusk-light. It alighted softly on Spud’s desk, talons finding the edge of the book. Its scales shimmered with iridescent greens and blues, a faint fur trim softening its chin and underbelly—an odd, beautiful contrast.
Timmy recoiled instinctively. “Spud!”
But Spud just reached out with a calm familiarity and scratched behind the creature’s horned ears. “It’s just Lopis,” he said with the tone one might use for an old pet. The firedrake chirred and curled into Spud’s lap, tail flicking idly.
Timmy hovered warily. “Isn’t that… a dragon?”
“Firedrake,” Spud corrected. “Still a youngling. Some adults puff a little flame, but Lopis? He mostly naps and steals ink.”
“Don’t worry,” Arkin added, chuckling. “This one’s safer than a jealous cat.”
Timmy leaned in as if testing fate. Lopis locked eyes with him, then suddenly puffed out a small cloud of smoke with all the seriousness of a much larger beast.
Timmy jerked back instinctively.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTh1RgkkkKc
Arkin burst into laughter, clutching his ribs. “He can’t breathe fire,” he said, wiping his eyes. “But stars know, it doesn’t stop him from trying.”
Still chuckling, Arkin’s tone shifted to something more companionable. “Fronan and I were talking. We think you two could use a break. Bit of mischief might do you good.”
He rested a hand on Spud’s shoulder, a quiet, grounding gesture. “You’ve come a long way, Spud. Still more to learn—but a clear head helps more than a cluttered one.”
Spud blinked, startled by the kindness. The constant weight of magical study lifted, if only slightly. Arkin’s praise didn’t come easily—it meant something.
“Go on,” Arkin said, waving them toward the door. “Get into trouble. Throw stones. Pick locks. But not too much mischief, or Fronan will blame me.”
Timmy’s eyes gleamed. “Mischief, you say? Any ideas what mischief we can do?” he asked, casting a playful wink at Spud.
Arkin gave him a mock-glare, then broke into a laugh. “Out! You're disturbing my peace!”
*
Laughter spilled into the quiet corridors, a warm contrast to the weight of war. Spud rose carefully, returning Lopis to his chair with a gentle pat—signaling their readiness to enjoy a moment of peace together.
“Alright, Arkin. We’ll give you your break,” Spud said, voice lighter now. “Thanks—for everything.”
“Be back by morning,” Arkin replied, fondness threading through his tone. “And try not to burn anything down.”
The tower door thudded shut behind them, sealing off the shadows of study. The brothers sauntered into the castle’s winding halls, their footsteps echoing freedom.
“So,” Timmy nudged, grinning, “what mischief shall we stir up first?”
Spud chuckled, brushing a loose curl from his brow. “Well, the kitchen made cinnamon buns this morning…”
Timmy’s grin widened. “Raiding the kitchens it is.”
*
Prince Errin’s gaze didn’t waver. “Then he’s welcome to ride out here and lecture me himself.”
Prince Turon held his stare. The fire pit crackled between them, casting long shadows over maps pinned with iron nails and painted markers. Despite the tension, his tone remained steady.
“You didn’t come to beg forgiveness. You came because something scared you enough to act without waiting.”
“Scared?” Errin scoffed. “No. Just tired of watching from palace windows while monsters gnaw at the edges of our kingdom.”
“You brought strength,” Turon admitted with a nod. “But you also brought risk. The crown still matters. Its unity still matters.”
“I’m not here to take command,” Errin said flatly. “That’s not my gift. But I won’t sit idle while those aliens march across our lands.”
The word hung in the tent like a curse—aliens. None dared say the name lightly. Half the soldiers whispered they were shadows given flesh; others swore they were sky-fallen gods. Whatever the truth, all agreed on one thing: ruin followed in their wake.
Turon’s fingers tapped the table slowly. “I’ve already sent word to Munjonin. If Fronan and Arlep succeed, we may have dwarven steel at our backs.”
Errin raised a brow. “You sent Fronan to the dwarves?”
“Who else do we trust?”
Errin let out a low whistle, then gave a curt nod. “That’s bold. Risky—but bold.”
Turon’s mouth twitched at the corner. “You’re one to talk.”
A flicker of a grin passed between them before the tension thickened again.
Errin’s voice dropped, more serious. “When Father finds out, he’ll shout, posture, maybe strip a few titles. But you and I both know—this war won’t wait for his blessing.”
Turon’s eyes darkened. “No. And the troops you brought might just tip the scales—if we live long enough to use them.”
The tent flap shifted.
General Winrun stepped in, face taut. Dust clung to his cloak, and a half-dried smear of ink stained the scroll tucked under his arm.
“Your Highnesses,” he said, bowing slightly. “Scouts report movement on the eastern ridge. Could be an alien advance.”
Both princes rose. The firelight sharpened their profiles—one refined and calculating, the other battle-scarred and fierce.
“Get the commanders,” Errin ordered, voice like flint. “No mistakes tonight.”
Turon nodded. “Every step from here must count.”
*
Scattered enemy units meant trouble. They couldn’t be met with a wall of steel. They’d slip past defenses, strike from behind, unravel supply lines, and tear through settlements before anyone knew where to look.
Turon turned to Aflinta. “Take six of our fastest scouts, and a hundred and fifty troops. Ride south—reach Sevlin’s camp. Tell him I need another hundred and fifty men. Then push deeper. Establish a new perimeter. I don’t care how far you have to go—cut them off before they reach the tree line.”
Aflinta didn’t flinch. She nodded once, already calculating terrain, timing, and rations.
Elron faced Borin again. The scout stood straighter now, though his breath still came in ragged bursts.
“You and your men,” Elron said, “track them. Stay hidden. No heroics—just eyes. If they get to the settlements before we map their path…”
He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to.
Borin nodded grimly. “Understood, my king.”141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLTJynCF2Rj
As the scout turned away, Elron’s gaze lingered on the flames. Their warmth felt distant now. The shadows in the marsh were stirring—and the war had only just begun.
*
Micah waited ‘til they were outta earshot, then leaned in close.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWbsa7USznX
“You noticed those two?” he said low. “They’re getting close.”
Spud watched as Miluna handed Alexi something wrapped in cloth—bread, maybe—and laughed when he nearly dropped it. Suddenly, it clicked.
“No,” Spud said. “Not until now.”
Micah tilted his head, amused. “Surprised, huh? You usually read folks well. Distracted lately?”
Spud shrugged. “Is that… wrong?”
Micah chuckled. “Wrong? No. It’s good. People need something of their own. Something that ain’t just duty. You might think about it yourself.”
Spud blinked. “What, find a girl?”
“Or let her find you,” Micah said, raising a brow.
Then he waved him off. “Go on. You’ve got work to do.”
Spud gave a small bow—more habit than anything—then turned back toward the estate. But Micah’s words lingered. Less an order, more an invitation.
A quiet opening.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQU7DkPAvh7
Something new.
*
Inside Prince Turon’s tent, the air was heavy with tension.
Turon, Errin, and Winrun stood in a tight triangle, a fresh report hanging in the silence.
“A dwarf envoy approaches,” Winrun said. “Scouts believe it might be Elron’s son.”
Turon exhaled. “Then Arlep made it through. Faster than I expected.”
“Is the king with him?” Errin asked, eyes narrowing.
Winrun shook his head. “Too early to tell. I’ll find out what I can.”
Before anyone could speak, the tent flap snapped open. A soldier stepped in, posture rigid with urgency.
“Your Highnesses—there’s a dwarf here to see you. Darwin, son of King Elron.”
Murmurs stilled. The tent flap rustled again as Darwin entered, compact and broad-shouldered, his armor marked with the delicate etchings of dwarven nobility. Dust clung to his boots. His expression was calm, but his eyes were sharp—measuring each man in turn.
“I bring news,” he said, his voice steady, clear.
Turon recovered first. “Your timing is perfect. How’s my brother?”
At that, Darwin’s gaze softened a shade. “He’s well. Arlep reached Munjonin safely. The dwarves are mobilizing. He’s begun preparations.”
Errin leaned forward slightly. “And King Elron? Did he come?”
Darwin shook his head. “No. He’s establishing a southern encampment and securing the borders. He sent me in his place—to coordinate strategy.” He motioned politely to a nearby chair but did not sit.
“Arlep left with the others when I did,” he added. “He continued east. He wasn’t alone. Timmy’s with him.”
The name landed with weight.
Turon’s brow twitched. “Timmy?”
Errin turned, sharply. “The boy lost in the towers.”
Darwin’s jaw tightened. A flicker of memory darkened his expression. “He’s not lost anymore. He’s changed. People follow him now. He carries something in him—more than steel or training. Purpose.”
The tent fell silent for a beat, as if the very air adjusted to that revelation.
*
Later, Spud sat cross-legged on the narrow mattress, a plate of roast and potatoes warming his lap. Across from him, Alexi hunched over his own meal, elbow-deep in gravy and silence. For a long moment, only the scrape of cutlery filled the room.
Spud finally broke the quiet. “Uh… you and Miluna… are you, like, a thing?”
Alexi looked up mid-chew, brow raised. “A thing?”
Spud waved the fork awkwardly. “I mean, just—forget it. None of my business.”
Alexi swallowed, then said casually, “I wouldn’t call it a thing. We’ve slept together a few times, but that’s all it is. Her terms.”
“Oh,” Spud replied, not quite able to mask his surprise. “Doesn’t bother you?”
“She’s not after anything serious,” Alexi said with a shrug. “She told me after she found out I’d been with Em’anna. Said it made her curious.”
Spud blinked. “Wait—you slept with Em’anna? The kitchen hand?”
Alexi grinned and stabbed a piece of roast. “You know they have the same parts a Midterran girl has?”
Spud’s face flushed. “I wouldn’t know,” he said quietly. “Never been with a girl. Midterran or Witlonian.”
Alexi’s grin faded into something gentler. “Well, that can be fixed.”
Spud shifted. “I’m not sure it needs fixing.”
Alexi leaned back, eyeing Spud over his plate.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡs77Cu4f487
“That Hemina girl likes you.”
Spud looked up sharply.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJgWmifWvKt
“Hemina?” His brow furrowed. “Likes me?”
Alexi gave him a mock-pitying look.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKvsgAeWiXn
“Spud, she brings you double portions when no one’s watching. Sits beside you at every firelit gathering. Laughs at your awful jokes.”
Spud opened his mouth to protest, but Alexi waved a spoon at him.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQvhjTth6yU
He thought of the times Hemina had defended him—especially when others called him ‘barbarian.’
“She asked me what kind of food you liked. Said she wanted to surprise you one day. Said she thought you looked tired and needed cheering up.” Alexi grinned. “That’s not kitchen duty. That’s interest.”
Spud blinked.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzmos2aU6bo
“I thought she was just... nice.”
“She is nice,” Alexi said. “But especially to you. Trust me, I know the signs.”
Spud rubbed the back of his neck.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGWW6quiaNF
His heart stuttered in his chest—embarrassment mixed with something unfamiliar.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjWTyadyuFf
“I wouldn’t know what to say to her.”
“You don’t have to say much. Just ask her to come by tomorrow night. Share a meal. I’ll make myself scarce. You two can... talk. Laugh. Whatever happens, happens.”
Spud hesitated—both warmed and terrified by the idea.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7XlfswDFvn
“You really think she’d say yes?”
Alexi chuckled.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEyoMfwJMsQ
“She’s hoping you’ll ask. Probably thinks you’re not interested.”
“I’m not not interested,” Spud said a little too quickly.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6FiB1FrRFH
“I just didn’t think someone like her would...”
“Like someone like you?” Alexi finished, shaking his head.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSahawRZZ1h
“You’re brave, honest, and kind. And she’s not blind.”
Spud leaned back, chewing over Alexi’s words.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡru6Z8PgoNI
Images of Hemina floated in his mind—dark curls escaping her scarf, the soft laugh she’d let slip when he’d spilled tea on himself, the quiet way she noticed when he was hurting, even if she said nothing.
A quiet presence.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDAQQDuDAo2
Like the first breeze before a storm.
Maybe she’d been waiting all along.
Spud looked over at Alexi. “Alright,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll ask her.”
Alexi’s grin returned, brighter than ever. “Good man. Just don’t screw it up.”
*
Their laughter echoed down the corridor as they slipped from the magician’s tower, the stone halls catching their footsteps like a song half-remembered. There was a freedom to it—no duties, no drills, just the two of them and whatever nonsense they could get away with.
“Hey,” Timmy said, elbowing him lightly, “how’d you end up with that little dragon thing?”
“Lopis?” Spud smirked. “He’s a firedrake, actually. Not really mine—Arkin’s, technically. Though you wouldn’t know it the way he acts. Comes and goes like he owns the place.”
Timmy’s brow lifted. “I didn’t even think firedrakes were real. Thought they were just stories for cold nights.”
“Oh, I thought the same—until he nearly singed my eyebrows off.” Spud chuckled. “First time I met him, he blew a smoke ring the size of a soup pot right in my face. Acted like I was trespassing on sacred ground.”
Timmy laughed. “Sounds like he takes his job seriously.”
“He did. At first. Now? Follows me around like a stray pup with wings. I think he’s bored of Arkin.”
“I had no idea what was happening when he started puffing smoke at me,” Timmy said, chuckling at the memory. “Thought I’d accidentally stepped into a forge.”
Spud grinned. “That’s pretty much how I met him. Thought I was going to be roasted on my first day.”
Their banter carried them down the corridor, the scent of cinnamon and warm dough growing stronger with each step. By the time they reached the wide kitchen doors, the aroma had them both grinning like boys again.
Inside, the kitchen buzzed with life—laughter, clanging pans, shouted orders, and the rhythmic chopping of vegetables. The brothers paused just past the threshold, letting the familiar chaos wash over them like a comforting song.
Spud’s eyes found their mother instantly. She was a graceful storm at the center of it all, her apron streaked with flour as she rolled dough and barked gentle corrections. Her hands moved with purpose, guiding younger kitchen staff without missing a beat.
Timmy caught sight of their father, his booming laugh rising above the din as he hauled sacks of flour across the far counter. He waved at them with a wide grin, and Timmy returned it with a nod.
Their mother turned at the sound of their footsteps, her expression softening as she saw them.
“Timmy, Spud! What a surprise!” she said, hurrying over. She wiped her hands on her apron and pulled them into warm, flour-dusted embraces. Spud melted into hers with a smile that tugged at the tired corners of his eyes.
Their father’s voice cut through the clang of pots. “Look who it is! The troublemakers return!”
The brothers exchanged a knowing glance, letting the kitchen’s warmth seep into their bones. Amid the cinnamon-sweet air and the laughter of scullions and stewpots, the weight of the outside world slipped away, just for a while.
For a brief moment, the simple joys of family and fresh cinnamon buns trumped their worries, and they basked in the cheerful kitchen bustle.141Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKber6urpCY
and then Add to home screen.