Frederic informed me of the increase in taxes. Since I have no intention to finance your wicked plan to send fresh batches of arselings up north to guard rocks and snow, Laneby will continue to pay one hundred gold coins.

Through the valley resounded the last guttural roar of a stag, yet the fire raged on with wood splintering as the green fury continued devouring the trees. There was no mercy but the relief of death to those tired of outrunning the ruthless dance.

Sebastian wasn't tired yet. His middle finger ripped open as he pulled the reins to avoid the burning birch that was toppling into the river. Water splashed all over the wood, killing the flames before they reached the reed this side of the shore.

Goddess of Kindness. The treetop now lay smouldering where they had ridden just moments ago.

He kicked Billy in the side, his eyes desperately scanning the forest. There had to be someone here. He and his friends could not have been the only survivors.

"Father, where are you? I need you." Sebastian turned his head. Father must be hiding behind that rock with Mother, Emily, and Lucy; pulling a prank.

The God of Pride punched him in the stomach. Nobody there.

From below came a soft murmuring. Abby was still floating in a state between sleep and unconsciousness. He should pick up the pace, to get her to Sundale faster, but he didn't want to give up. Not yet. His family had to be here somewhere. They had to be alive.

"Nicky?" Her voice was as fragile as a butterfly's wings.

"No." He pulled her up, relieving the strain of her slumping body on his upper legs. "I'm Seb. You know me, right? Nick's idiotic friend who's always stealing him whenever he wants to read with you."

An uneasy smile tugged at the corners of his trembling mouth. He had only been riding for a couple of hours, yet the banter-filled afternoon in the sun seemed a distant memory of a long gone past. 

His heart ached more than the blisters and the cramps in his limbs combined. Alex should have been here instead of him. Once again, she had convinced him to do something he didn't want to do.

"Where's..." A deep wheeze cut Abby's sentence short.

"It's just me and Billy. We're taking you to the big castle in Sundale where the smartest people in the kingdom live. They will make you all better. I promise."

"Nicky."

"He will come too. And... maybe your parents and George will be there as well, waiting for you."

"Nicky, where..."

Sebastian clamped her mouth shut. It was selfish, but he couldn't bear her strangled voice anymore. Her usual gibberish was more irritating than his sisters' yammering, especially whenever she claimed all of Nick's attention, but now he would trade everything just to get her annoying chatter back.

He had never known that Nick and Abby were this close, but then again, Nick was a closed book when it came to himself. He always believed that other people's stories were more interesting than his own, which wasn't a wonder. Eating an entire basket of muffins in less than an hour was hardly an accomplishment worth mentioning.

"Faster, boy." Sebastian gave Billy another kick, after which the horse broke into a gallop. The sooner he would get to Sundale, the sooner this would all be over.

A numbing headache crept over him. There were two options: following the meandering River Faith or crossing the Scorching Plains. Father had instructed him that the Plains were the fastest way to reach the capital, even though they were notorious for high temperatures and fierce winds. Traders and merchants avoided it for most of the year and preferred the longer route along the River Faith.

Speed or safety? He still had time before the split in the river would force him to choose.

He turned his head again as they rushed past a thick sycamore. The God of Pride stood ready, punching another hole in his heart. No Father. No Mother. Nobody.

A lonely tear dripped down his cheek and onto Abby's dirty blonde hair. Father wasn't allowed to be dead. He still had to teach him so many things before he could become Lord Sebastian of Laneby.

Slowly, dark clouds pushed away the eerie red of the setting sun and veiled the sky, bringing the rain that the forest needed.

Praise the Gods. Or not. The heavenly water shrouded the river in a fog-like smoke that burnt through Sebastian's lungs. He coughed a few times to break through the rhythm of his painful breath.

Below him, Abby coughed a delicate yet choking cough. He cupped his hand over her mouth so she wouldn't inhale more of the toxic fog.

He couldn't lose track of the river, so he steered Billy away from the shelter of the trees. The horse shuddered and snorted.

"I know you don't like it, but I don't wanna get lost."

Billy replied with a raspy neigh. He slowed down to a trotting pace, blowing more snorts out of his nose.

"Come on, boy." Snapping the reins, Sebastian rammed the back of his shoes into the horse's flanks.

For a split second Billy's forelegs left the ground and he whinnied in frustration. He stopped, pointing his ears towards Abby mumbling, "Nicky... Nicky."

"Please. You don't have to do it for me. Do it for her and Nick instead."

He tossed his head, but began running and carried on for the rest of the evening, even long after the smoke had cleared and the clouds had made room for twinkling stars. 

All this time, there was little to no change in scenery. To their left stood only rows upon rows of perennials, and to their right, the ever-flowing River Faith, separating them from the barren lands of death.

An icy coldness seeped through Sebastian, growing stronger with each of the horse's clops. It left him shivering in his drenched clothes. He blinked, hoping to keep sleep from his eyes, but the exhaustion in his bones had sunk too deep. Now that Humility had chased Pride away, time had come to accept her embrace.

 "What do you think, boy? A small break. Drink, eat, sleep?" 

Billy halted as he pulled the reins. Keeping his arm clutched around Abby, Sebastian got off the horse and gently lay her on a patch of grass on the riverbank.

Her breath came out with sharp and shaky puffs. Keeping an eye on her, he unbuckled the saddle and let it drop to the ground. After wrapping her in Billy's blanket, he let her lean against the saddle. Her breathing didn't sound so bad if she could sit up.

But she had to drink, and he was thirsty too. He reached for the goatskin in Billy's bags that Mother had urged to take with him.

All empty. Nick or Fox must have drunk it all. He sat down on his knees and held it under water. The bubbles plopped; grand at first but then rapidly smaller and slower until they disappeared.

He set the nozzle to his lips, yet when the first bit of water touched his tongue, he spat it all out. Yuck! He had eaten burnt meat that was tastier than this rancid juice.

Billy neighed, eagerly licking the water, as if to say that Sebastian shouldn't be a coward. He took another gulp from the skin and swallowed it right away. When the sand-like structure tickled his throat, his stomach heaved.

He took a deep breath as he sat down on the grass, pulling a shivering Abby onto his lap. Carefully, he caressed her cheeks until she opened her mouth. A few drops dripped from the skin and onto her tongue. 

She murmured, jerking her head away.

"I know it tastes bad, Abby, but it's better than not drinking at all."

She clawed at the air with her fingers. "No, Nicky. I want Nicky."

"D-Drink for Nick then. One sip for him, and one for George. And then two more, for your mother and father. When we get to Sundale, I will tell them all what a big girl you are."

Billy sat down beside him and bumped his nose to her chin. She held still now, allowing the cold water to touch her lips. Half of it ended up on her once-white shirt, but at least she was drinking.

He gave the horse a pat on the neck. "You look after Abby. I'm gonna make a fire."

The pheasant that Alex had caught was still sticking out of one of Billy's bags. He was hungry and his clothes had to dry if he wanted to stop shaking from the cold.

All the wood he found was wet. He still placed his foot on a thick piece of birch bark and twirled a thin stick between his hands, wishing for a spark to ignite.

Half a day running from fire and now when he needed flames, there was nothing. If Fox were here, he would be rolling over the forest floor with laughter, telling everyone that Sebastian was the worst Fire Master he had ever seen.

Another blister cracked open, pus oozing out. While tears welled up, he threw the stick into the river. Then no fire.

The God of Wrath immediately claimed the piece of wood, sinking it to the bottom. Sebastian rubbed his eyes. If only Father were here to wrap his broad arms around him and to tell him that all would be well. After all, when today wasn't a good day, tomorrow could only get better.

He joined Abby on Billy's saddle blanket and pulled her into his arms to rub her stomach the way Mother did when he wasn't feeling well. It always helped him, maybe it would help her too.

Abby dozed off quickly, leaving Sebastian alone to stare at the gibbous moon travelling from west to east.

Every rustle of the wind through the leaves made him clutch his dagger tighter, as if it would be the last noise he would ever hear. If it really were an enemy soldier, the weapon wouldn't be of much use, but he would fight if he had to.

He wished he could travel back in time, to his ninth birthday, when Mother had placed that rectangular wooden box on his plate instead of scrambled eggs. Father's face had been filled with an enormous smile that grew even larger when Sebastian ripped the bow off the box and opened it.

His very first dagger. Boys weren't supposed to have weapons until they were eleven, but being the only son of a Lord came with its perks. In the days after, Sebastian had constantly shoved the weapon under his sisters' noses until they begged Father for one as well.

That's what he and Father had given them: one dagger. Their own private joke to prank Emily and Lucy.

"Just be there for me, Father." He gritted his teeth, fighting back the tears. "I can't take another day like today. You have to promise you'll be waiting for me in Sundale."

The wind whistled, ruffling though his hair. For a bit longer than a blink, it seemed like Father was sitting in front of him, yet when Sebastian stretched his hand to touch the crinkly scar on his cheek, a series of rapid shrills disturbed him.

Abby. A light foam had formed on her lips. Sebastian put her on the saddle, keeping a hand behind her back to support her while she was gasping for air.

Billy nudged him, first his hand, then his shoulder. Abby kept on struggling to breathe. They had to move on. If he wasn't going to sleep, he might as well continue the journey.

As they rode through the early morning hours, Sebastian kept his eyes open for anything that could serve as food. The last thing he had eaten was the roasted apple, and his stomach was grumbling so loudly that Billy neighed each time he heard it. 

Lucy had been right all along: you should always keep a spare sandwich in your pockets for emergencies.

He plundered the first raspberry shrubbery he found; even ate the ones that were barely ripe or too ripe. Later he picked dandelions from underneath a thorny bush. Emily had once told him that the flowers can be eaten, but that he shouldn't expect anything tasteful.

He took a hesitant bite. His sister had been right; it wasn't as sweet as the raspberries, but a fine delicacy compared to the awful river water. He dumped the pheasant and filled Billy's bag with as many dandelions as he could fit.

Abby didn't want any of the flowers, and neither did she want to drink. Her eyelids quivered along with her shaking body. Red spots had appeared in between the scorch marks.

So when the split in the river came, Sebastian crossed the water. He would never forgive himself if he took the longer route and failed to reach Sundale in time.

Though the forest fire hadn't reached this part of the Forest of Lane, the area was rocky and desolate. A lonely tree here and there marked the path they were walking on until all that was left was a vast marshland.

With the sun towering high in the sky, Sebastian sweated more than he had water in the goatskin. He rationed it nonetheless, only taking a small gulp when the burn in his throat became too much to bear.

Billy had long abandoned his galloping, though Sebastian didn't mind. Each muscle in his body ached so much that even trotting became a chore.

A surprisingly large alder tree brought the solace of shade that he needed. He laid down, clutching his dagger and caressing Abby with his free hand. She was sleeping, and he wanted sleep so badly too.

His eyes fell shut; his dreams portraying the days that could have been. Emily getting her beautiful spring wedding with George, just like she had been begging Father to arrange for her. Alex fulfilling her wish to become the first female head of the ranger patrol, and Fox killing his first wolf after an intense battle.

Sebastian saw an older version of himself, staring at the various scenes from Laneby's hill, leaning on Father's iron broadsword. Being a Lord wasn't so bad if it were like this.

A mysterious force pulled him back, blurring all the familiar faces. His sword tumbled down the hill and disappeared. "No, come back. I'm not ready to leave."

With his rough and sticky tongue, Billy was licking him on the face. He neighed, all panicky, then prodded Abby's side with his head.

Her eyes stood open as more foam spewed out of her mouth. She was thrashing around like a fish fresh out of the water.

"Abby." He held her hand, helplessly. "Just breathe. We're almost there. One breath at a time. You can do this, Abby. You have to. Don't you dare give up."

Alex should have been here. Her mother had taught her so much about healing herbs that she would have known what to do. He was lost. Though Abby was in no state to mount Billy again, they couldn't stay here either.

Father's voice popped into his head. If you ever need to pass the Scorching Plains, use the light of the afternoon sun to guide you to Sundale. It's crucial, my boy. A few degrees more to the south or the west, and the Plains will come to claim you.

The sky was red, with the last bits of light still appearing above the horizon. Evening... he had slept so much longer than he had intended to. But if that was the evening sun, then Sundale was more to... the east... the south... anywhere...

Abby wheezed, her hands clawing for every breath. He couldn't concentrate. Was this Pride's punishment for sticking around in the Forest of Lane to find his family, to stay near the river to let Billy rest, to sleep underneath the alder tree?

Her face had turned into a grizzly grey; the veins in her eyes mirroring the sky. He shook her, screaming, while tears burst out. "You can't die, Abby. As your future Lord, I forbid it. You only have to breathe. Just once, for Nick. And then another one for George, and then..."

But she couldn't. As the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the horizon, so did her soul. Her blue eyes stared into nowhere as her body slumped to the ground, never to move again.

With arms wide open, he raised his head to the seven heavens. "I beg you. Save her. Do something... anything."

The Gods remained quiet; their judgement already made: he had failed her.

And he had failed Nick.