Prince Malte greeted me with a cordial smile and said, 'If you stare at me like that, you're going to make me blush, young man."

I chuckled nervously. "I'm sorry for staring, your highness. I'm—I wasn't expecting to see you here. My name is Laurence Montbow." 

"Montbow?" Prince Malte raised a brow. "The great merchant family of the south, hm? In that case, likewise. I wasn't expecting to see a nobleman here. I thought I was the only human from the noble circles aiding the elves."

"Montbow is unfortunately no longer a big name among the merchant guilds or noble circles," I said with a sheepish smile. "Which is part of the reason I'm here, actually."

Prince Malte's eyebrow raised higher, while Oleander seemed done speaking with the other elves and approached us. I wasn't keen on explaining to the prince why were no longer a large merchant family, and gratefully turned to Oleander. "So, what do we do now?" I asked.

"That's not up to me anymore," Oleander replied. "They're deciding." Oleander nodded at an elderly woman and a few more elves, who were still huddled together a short distance away from the others. Sage was among them too. 

"Regardless, I will return to Wildewall," prince Malte said. He turned to me. "Tell me, how fares the war? Were the woods taken by my father after we disappeared?"

"Well..." I had to think about the question hard. Again, I wished I had paid attention during lessons about the monarchy in Wildewall. Mother's history lectures always made me doze off, and I could never concentrate on reading the dull books. "I think after your father passed away, your second eldest brother inherited the throne."

Prince Malte cursed under his breath. "My father passed? And...Alaric. Of course he inherited the throne. Seems like he got what he wanted after all. Bastard. What did he say about me? What is my reputation in the human lands now?"

I opened and closed my mouth. The prince's replies reminded me he had no idea he had spent ninety years in the mountains, and I didn't know how to ease him into it slowly. 

I decided to simply answer his question for now.  "He, uh, your brother raised a statue in your honour, your highness," I said. "And they named districts and buildings after you for your role in the war."

Malte grimaced. "And what is my role in the war according to these stories?"

"The stories in Wildewall say you brought the elven artefact to the humans and took away the elves' strength with it," I said. "But since you're here with the elves and they're not trying to kill you, I have a feeling that's not what happened."

Prince Malte let out an exasperated sigh, brushing a hand through his hair. "No, that is obviously false. But even so, I don't think I'm quite off the hook yet." He nodded at the elves. "Most of them never fully trusted me." 

"We would be foolish to suspect you now," Oleander said. "Why would you let yourself be captured in these mountains with us if you were behind it all?"

"I could've fallen into my own trap," Malte said with a wink. "The royal family of Wildewall is known for not being above double-crossing our own flesh and blood, after all."

"But you weren't part of setting a trap, were you, your highness?" I asked. "You didn't betray Sage Farun."

Prince Malte looked at me. "That would be a very long story, Montbow," he said. "And I understand we don't have time for very long stories."

I turned toward The Last Stop. "No, we don't. The people living nearby surely must've noticed already something changed in the mountains. Elves still aren't beloved in these lands, to say the least. They mustn't see you all here."

"Not to mention the queen and her soldiers mustn't find us here or on the way back to the woods either," Oleander added. "We can't be near these mountains when they get here. We need to avoid them on the road as well."

"My mother is on her way here?" prince Malte repeated incredulously.  

"Well..." I started before trailing off, looking for Oleander for help. 

"Many years passed, Malte," Oleander bluntly stated. "Your mother is no longer alive either."

Prince Malte frowned. "I see. So this is queen...?" He made a hand gesture, encouraging me and Oleander to elaborate. "Who is the queen? And what year is it?"

"Hey name is queen Idonia. She is the daughter of your brother's son," Oleander thankfully clarified because I still had absolutely no knowledge of the royal lineage, and I would likely never learn no matter how often it bit me in the ass. Oleander dipped his head. "My apologies. We live ninety years after the war now. You have been trapped here all this time living as a dragon."

Prince Malte's face went blank. He was clearly unsettled, but he bravely attempted a smile. "Several generations already, huh? None of my family members did ever hold out for long on the throne. But I will travel to Wildewall, regardless. Even if I'm ninety years late, the people still have a right to hear the truth about my brother and the statues they have raised in my questionable honour."

"If you're going, then I'm going as well," a voice with a heavy Starcross woodlands accent piped up behind me. Sage stepped next to prince Malte with his hands on his hips. "I know you long enough now to know you will get in trouble, and I have hidden among humans often enough to know how it's done."

"No, I wouldn't follow the prince to Wildewall, Sage," Oleander said. "I may or may not have been caught by the queen, and in order to escape with the Changeling, shifted into a dragon in front of their temples. They're a little antsier than usual about elves within their city walls now."

Sage stared at Oleander, then shook his head. He said something in elven to Oleander.

Like me, prince Malte didn't seem to understand what they were saying. He turned to me and shrugged. "Very well, the elves can't walk into Wildewall. I guess I have to explain where I was on my own, and I must order an end to the fighting so the elves can all Iive in the woods in peace."

"But not everyone is here in the valley," Sage noted. "I'm missing people. Are they...?"

Oleander shook his head.

Malte and Sage both visibly paled. I averted my gaze as a silence fell and my stomach sank in guilt. I'd almost been part of the trial myself. I had almost killed an elven dragon too.

"We can't go to Wildewall," Oleander broke the silence. "And we can't stay here either. We must go back to the woods where we can hide, and we must do so without being seen by any humans. It's going to be a long journey on foot." Oleander looked at me. "Our leaders are deciding on our route, Laurence, and I will go with them. They know the most important facts now, but I must tell them the entire tale."

"Yes, you need to tell us the entire tale." Sage crossed his arms. "Tell me Oleander, is there a reason why you have entrusted this dangerous artefact to a noble human?"

"I will gladly give it back to you right away," I said, pushing the Changeling into Oleander's hands. The screams still rang in my ears, and not having the gem close to me any longer was a relief.

Oleander stared at the Changeling in his hand for a few moments and tucked it away in his bag. "Thank you. We will take it back to the woods and hide it."

I sighed. "And I will probably have to go with the prince and face punishment in the city for what I did."

"Why?" Oleander frowned. "You can come with us to the village of the outlaws created by Endris beyond the woods. You can vanish. The Wildewall humans will likely kill you if you go back."

I knew it was true. My family had the means to take care of themselves thanks to Oleander, and I had denounced myself to the queen. Still, I wasn't prepared to simply never see my family again. Even if they were terribly upset with me and never wanted to speak with me again, I at least wanted to hear it from their mouths. I wanted to hug Fynn and tell Valda to take care the wrong man wouldn't sweep her off her feet, ironic as that would be coming from me. I was also worried about Ariane and the effect of my actions on her. We weren't freed of our betrothal yet, and she would likely suffer the consequences if I was gone.

"I can't vanish yet, Oleander. I left some open ends I must resolve first," I said. "I want to free Ariane from our betrothal and see my family. Even if it's only to ensure the queen did not punish them and to say goodbye."

Oleander snorted "Fine. I know I won't change your mind so...Nice to see you are still irritatingly good."

Prince Malte cleared his throat. "Might I suggest priesthood, Montbow? It sounds like an answer to many of your problems."

I blinked. "What?"

"If Wildewall still works the way it did when I left, priesthood means you won't be eligible for marriage anymore. You and your betrothed would both be free. As a priest, it's also far less likely you would be persecuted for a crime."

"I can be made a priest?" I shook my head. "I aided and abetted an elf with threatening the queen and escaping with a precious heirloom. I don't think I will ever have any position of power in Wildewall in my life again. I'm lucky if they don't throw me in the dungeon immediately."

Prince Malte hummed. "They may not be willing to make you a priest. But as a priest myself and as a member of the royal family, I have that right as well. I don't know what happened to you and Oleander, Montbow. But what I do know is that you freed us here. You freed a prince of Wildewall." Malte glanced at Oleander. "And if we can borrow the Changeling for just a little while longer... I reckon if we walk into Wildewall together with the artefact, we will have a damn good story to tell the council to convince them what you did was for the greater good."

"Why would they believe you tale?" Sage asked with a roll of his eyes. "You are supposed to be dead, Malte. And even if they believe you're alive and you are prince Malte, they'll never believe you're over a hundred years old and lived as a dragon in the mountains unless they see it with their own eyes."

"I do look rather good for my age, don't I?" Prince Malte winked as he patted his cheek.

Sage groaned and turned away with a scowl.

"Jokes aside," prince Malte continued, "They may not believe me at first. I have knowledge that will prove my claim as prince Malte, however. And if the people of Wildewall find the mountains void of snow and dragons, and see Laurence Montbow here wielding the Changeling and showing them what it can do, they will have to believe my tale. The people must learn the truth behind the war and what happened here in this valley."

"They may not care about the truth, Malte," Oleander said, crossing his arms. "We are only elves, after all. Even if we were trapped inside these mountains for years, people may think that is exactly where we belong. Why, they may even tell Laurence to use the Changeling to trap us again."

"It pains me to say this, your highness, but the late king Bertram turned hunting dragons into a knighthood trial," I added. "And while all the elves 'vanished' after the war, the sentiments of the people didn't change much in the past ninety years."

"Regardless, they will learn where I was. They ought to care about their prince," prince Malte persisted. "And we need to find out who trapped us here."

"They're likely long gone, your highness," I said. "Ninety years passed, remember? Your brother is already gone too, and so are most people who lived during the time of the war."

Prince Malte cursed. "Still, they will know the truth about the mountains and the Changeling." Malte looked at me. "And about you help and reasons to steal the Changeling, Montbow. To clear your name."

"Laurence did far more than only help me stealing the Changeling. I escaped the its influence in the first place because of him," Oleander said. "Laurence found me in the valley. He kept me alive among humans and treated me with kindness until we were ready to free you all."

"You certainly know how to make my role sound a lot better than it was," I said, scratching the back of my head awkwardly. 

Oleander smiled. His gaze travelled down to my lips and before I knew it, he'd leaned in and kissed me in front of all the elves and the third prince of Wildewall, with not a hint of shame or hesitation. And I couldn't seem to help but return his kiss, warmth flooding my body. Regardless of what he had done, or finding out that he was a hundred-year-old elven man... it didn't seem to matter. 

I melted in Oleander's arms, but I was rapidly brought back to my senses when I leaned back and realised not everyone around us was as happy as I was with our kiss. Several elves were watching us, and they were not exactly watching in admiration.

Prince Malte, on the other hand, seemed amused. He smiled at Oleander. "I'll have fun traveling with this one I see, Oleander. Someone who captured your cold, dead heart? He must be someone special. A nobleman, of course. And what else? A god-touched? He must be, if he wielded the Changeling."

Prince Malte looked at me expectantly.

I nodded. "Storm-touched, your highness," I said, tugging down my shirt to show the prince my mark. "People do seem to find it important that I tell them I'm storm-touched during the introductions. I forgot, my apologies."

Prince Malte turned to Oleander. Then he looked at Sage, and burst out laughing while Sage glared at him.

"An inside joke, pardon me, Laurence," prince Malte said once he regained his composure. "Alright, Montbow. We would definitely have a good time on our way to Wildewall, and I could truly use your help by showing them you can wield the artefact. What do you say? Are you up for the challenge?"

I glanced at Oleander, then turned back to prince Malte. "I think I will have to."

"Then we best say our goodbyes now," Oleander said. "None of us can't stay here, and it would be safer if we don't take the same route."

"We'll leave you to it then," Sage said. He grabbed prince Malte's arm and tugged him along so Oleander and I were standing away from the group alone. 

"So, we'll have to split here," I said. "So much for your elaborate thank you." 

"We split for now," Oleander amended. "You know where to find me, and I will wait for you to return. If you come to the woods, you will be welcome. If you don't, I know you chose otherwise."

I smiled wryly. "Or that I'm dead."

"You are not going to die. You charmed even me. The city of Wildewall is no match for you."

"I hope so."

"I know so."

Oleander grabbed my head and pulled me in for another kiss. Then he let me go and pressed the pouch with Changeling in my hands. With one last tender brush of his fingers against my jaw, he stepped back and went over to the other elves. 

Oleander looked over his shoulder as he walked away, and I silently promised myself this wouldn't be the last time we saw each other. Regardless of the mess that awaited me in Wildewall, I would meet Oleander again in the woods. If beings of legend could walk among people, if lovers of legend who said to have been separated forever were reunited, surely something as simple as a lordling traveling to the Starcross woods was possible.

"Montbow." Prince Malte put his hand on my shoulder. "Let us rest for a while in that nearby village you mentioned and head for Wildewall."

I looked at the ruined cart and grimaced. "You can go. It may be better if I don't show my face there. But I was hoping we could we risk briefly stopping near the Thundercoast, your highness."

"I'm ninety years late already, so I'm in no rush," prince Malte joked with a grin. "I don't see why not. But please, do me a favour, Montbow. Stop calling me your highness until we arrive in Wildewall. We don't need that kind of attention on the road. Call me Malte."

"Alright your hi—Malte."

"Good. I will enter the village alone," prince Malte said. "You can hide nearby. Lead the way."

With a nod of my head, I gestured toward the Last Stop and started walking.

The prince and I traveled in silence as we left the valley, but I couldn't help but continue glancing at him in my curiosity. I was certain he already had a 'damn good story' to tell about the war. I'd never been interested in history, but prince Malte's story was an obvious exception.

"If you want to ask something ask it, Montbow," prince Malte said without taking his eyes off the road.

My cheeks burned. "My apologies," I said. "It's just... I am very curious about what happened to you as well. How did you get trapped here with the elves? Do you have any idea who could've done this?"

Prince Malte chuckled. "As I said before, Montbow, it's a long story. Thankfully, we'll be spending several weeks together so we have all the time in the world. It all began when my parents, tired of my antics in the palace, decided I were to become a priest in the temple of the thunder god." 

To be continued...