"Two nights ago, we were attacked," Lord Virwan's voice stiffened the council room. "The King was found dead, and his quarters have been overturned." His crooked nose and half-melting face would look almost normal compared to the twisted features of the other lords around the table. "Few of our members are victims. Including Lord Castello." Sinister dipped the atmosphere like the first drop of an upcoming rageful storm. "Fortunately, all the intruders left before dawn."

"I am sure it was one of those guest countries. Ezran has been teetering over to war for years." One of the Lord chimed in, his bald head shining under the chandelier's light. "And the Prince of Ezran seemed angry not winning the Princess's heart. They had been the fervent one in the war ten years ago."

Another grunted. "I don't believe so. It might have been mercenaries. Those who had seen them said they were covered in black like doom itself, and their eyes glowed like demons." Lord Virwan's globulus eyes shone in surprise.

Wrinkly yellowish palms pressed together in a prayer. The High Priest's tongue ran into prayer.

"You are right, Lord Abby. I saw them. It is true," A Lord with a face as pointy as fox claimed.

"They must be barbarians then! Those scums have been plotting revenge since the King chased them away." Lord Abby stabbed a fist on the table.

"We have no proof of that yet." Lord Virwan explained carefully. "Sill the King's death remained, and we have to announce-"

"The Sun God is watching." Wrinkly yellowish palms pressed harder. "The Peace Treaty has been breached. Chaos will ensue." The words suffocated the High Priest's throat as if possessed. "Solstice is only but a few days away. A few days away from doom."

"High Priest. What should we do?" Lord Virwan asked.

The Priest's body stayed of marble as he said, "We can pray. Lord Virwan. We can pray."

Silence stretched painfully. "Announcing the death of the King before Solstice will bring unrest." All the eyes turned to the table's end. His burned scar sat tight across his left eye as his voice exposed his presence for the first time since the beginning of the meeting.

Lord Abby frowned. "We cannot hide it, Commander. We do not have a King! Nor a Queen!"

"Commander Zakrus is the reason why this castle is still standing today." Lord Virwan sliced the upcoming argument before it even took form. "He chased away the Barbarians and protected the castle with bravery." Lord Abby swallowed his tongue back, but his frown remained vivid as fire.

"I have only done the duty of my country...and my King," Zakrus lowered his head solemnly.

"So what are we going to do?" Abby threw like a hook.

Zakrus flashed his eyes to him, but he was a bigger catch. "We find the Princess."

"No announcement will be made before we know her whereabouts." Lord Virwan's eyes bounced between the two.

"And what if we don't find her?" Lord Abby's ring-squeezed fingers pressed against the table. "What if she is dead too?" His words stirred uneasy breaths from the Lords.

"She was last seen fleeing out of the gates." Zakrus paused before adding. "With a man." Gasps surged across the stable.

"Who?" The bald Lord whistled like a kettle, but the surprise was grand on all faces. Even the High Priest lowered his hands.

"We have to find out." Zakrus straightened his back. "Soldiers are already searching nearby villages."

"What if...she is part of that?" The bald Lord went on, his words inflated with implications.

Eyes jolted. "This is a grave accusation, My lord!" Lord Abby splattered his hands again.

"Not really," Zakrus' eyes paused on the Lord. "We all know the Princess never wished to marry, and now she is gone with a man."

"So were you!" Lord Abby stood up, his finger like a spear. "Do you think we've all forgotten about your tantrums, Zakrus? None of us have." His thick fist bangs against the table. "You were never in favor of this wedding."

None move around the table but the Commander. His lips stretched his dark-trimmed beard. "I am here. Am I not?"

Abby's eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth, another spear upcoming, but Lord Virwan was faster. "As the Hand of the King, I declare we keep this event hidden until we find the Princess." He looked to Zakrus. "The Commander will be in charge of looking for her."

The corner of Zakrus's mouth pulled while the Lord Abby sent spears with his eyes. "I will find her, my Lord."

**

His eyes fluttered open, but for a while, a blurry veil welcomed him with a headache. His head rung as if he had been hammered by a blacksmith. He tried to reach that throbbing with a hand but felt tightness around his wrists. Then it dawned on him. His vision cleared, and his pulse bounced. Bones. Everywhere. Heads, torsos, pelvises. Some intact, others fragmented. He recognized the thick skulls of bears, the branch horns of reindeer, and the long and blunt muzzle of wolves. Their bones hung between them like a morbid masquerade across the curves of dark grey walls.

A cave.

The flicker of warmth stirred his eyes to a fire spurring in the middle of the cave, breathing with the air coming from the entrance of the cave's mouth. It stretched the bones' shadows to the roof and made them dance a morbid routine, their empty eyes straight on him.

He looked away. Before him, a makeshift throne stood upon a smooth stone, acting as a platform. The throne was made of thick bones, femurs, and tibias and draped with thick bear skin.

Something glimmered to his side, and he jerked his head. Sharp, tooth-edged, deadly, flashing like a storm and a reminder of his human's fragility. The panoply of a butcher leaned over another wall: swords, daggers, spears, axes, arrows, hammers. His Adam Apple stuck in his throat as if the cold and sharpness of these deadly tools already burning his flesh.

A barbarians' cave.

The outcasts. Those who were banned from the kingdom for their inhuman acts. The bone spitters. The slaughterers.

The Queen's death.

A cold drop slid through Lach's back as he wriggled frantically under the tightness of the rope. He had to get out of here. Now. His features tightened as he let the roughness of the rope tear through his flesh, drawing stinging red wounds.

"Lach?" A drowsy voice stirred behind him.

"Amaya?" He jerked his head over his shoulder, searching for a glimpse of her face, but found only her curls. He tried to move, but a weight stopped him. They were tied together. "Are you all right?"

"I am all right..." she said, voice brittle as if she wasn't fully conscious yet.

If the thumping ache on the side of his head was any indication, something hit him. "Did they hurt you?"

"No, they didn't." Her voice was still weak, but her concern grew. "What about you?"

Lach turned back his head to the front, shoulders deflating in a sigh. "I am alright."

"Where are we?" Fear laced her tone as her voice cleared.

"A barbarians hideout."

"Barbarians?!" Her voice spurred in a gasp. "How do you-"

"I am not sure, but we have to leave before we find out," Lach wriggled some more. "Can you get up?" He pointed his chin to his sword. "I will try to get to my sword and release us."

"I can't. My feet are tied together."

"Shit. Mine too." Lach raked his brain. These people could do anything to them. They were outlaws, and the only rules they followed were nothing short of ferocious.

"We can try," she said at last. "We could try to stand together."

Lach raised his eyebrows even though she couldn't see. "How so?"

"If we get up at the same time, we won't lose balance and fall. It's like waltzing. We have to move together. If not, one of us is going to miss a step."

Lach wasn't a dancer and had never waltz a day in his life, but he understood the principle. So he believed. "Let's try then." He slid his tied feet under his bottom. Amaya also mimicked his movement.

"On the count of three, we get up, alright?" Amaya said. "One, two...three!" They spurred together on their feet, wobbling and searching for balance.

"We did it," Lach exclaimed. "Let's move toward the weapons." But a sturdy man appeared at the cave's mouth before they could even step forward.

The man's eyes widened as he screamed. "They woke up!" They both startled and wobbled like a boat riding enraged waves. A high-pitched gasp was the sole indicator for Lach before he landed face-first to the ground, rocks and dust bouncing in his wake. He groaned at the grazing pain against his cheek.

Amaya lay on his back, wriggling, trying to catch a glimpse of him. "Lach? Are you all right?"

"Please don't move..." his voice was muffled as his cheek stuck painfully to the rocky ground.

"Sorry!"

He spat dust, and his eyes widened as a dozen thick and sturdy men with long, unkempt hair, beards and rough faces appeared. "Shit."

"What is happening?" Amaya turned to the side and held her breath.

He swallowed difficulty as they moved like a pack of wolves around them. They were done. Definitely and utterly done. Blond hair and sharp, icy eyes surfaced among them, and Lach barked.

"You, bastard!" His words chewed from his position. Bett just smirked, and his blood boiled. "You lead us to a trap!" His teeth were bare, unable to contain the rage in his blood. "What kind of man does not keep his words?!"

A massive mountain of muscles stood next to Bett, a full and thick red mane sitting on his head and a matching beard going down to his large hips. He adorned a fur cape like some sort of Lord, and underneath it, a leather armor covered his chest. Most of the men there were wearing an armor, too.

An axe hung at his belt, and Lach's lips tightened shut. The man looked down at Bett with an eyebrow as fiery as the rest of his hair. "A man?" Next to him, Bett seemed even tinier. "Betina, you brought us some amusing creatures here." The name made them flinched. "My little sister brought us some amusing creatures!" the man exclaimed louder. All the men roared into rough laughter like breathless wolves. He turned to a man with brown hair to his side. "Release them from each other."

He cut the rope that tied Amaya and Lach together. "Sister?" Lach muttered as he was jolted back into a sitting position. He let the word drag inside his mind, and his features twisted in horror. "You are a girl?" he sputtered so loudly and bluntly the pack roared another laughter.

Bett's eyes fell into a slit. The cocky smirk disappeared into a teeth-baring growl. They approached Lach with boulderer steps. "Call me a girl again, and I will slice your impetuous tongue if you don't close that shitty mouth of yours," they said, a knife already pushing under Adam's Apple. Lach's eyes narrowed, daring.

"Bett! Don't." Amaya yelled.

"Betina, stop it," The man with red fiery hair exclaimed. A warning. The name made them recoiled. They withdrew, eyes still sending daggers at Lach. Lach let out a breath. "How are they going to talk if they miss tongues?" He stepped next to them, dwarfing them with mountain height. Bett's nose scrunched up as they sheathed their sword.

"I assure you. Igor. I know enough about them." They spat through clenching teeth, still staring death into Lach. "These are just depraved servants fleeing away from the castle."

A fiery brow rose on Igor's forehead. "Is that so?" His gaze sparked interestingly. "Servants of the royal court? The bastard King's lackeys. I see."

Amaya's brows furrowed.

"Water!" His baritone voice echoed, and one of the men immediately handed a cup to him. He kneeled in front of Amaya, whose eyes were stubbornly staring at him.

"Drink this," he commanded. Amaya glanced at the cup. Her throat was sore and felt like sandpaper. The liquid was inviting. She could feel it sliding inside her throat, but she jerked her chin away. A sigh. "If what you say is true, then you must be exhausted from running away," he said before adding. "My sister Bett said that you were two lovebirds on the run. How romantic is that?"

Lach glared at Bett. "Your mouth ran faster than hares."

"You do not value that tongue, don't you? "Bett's sword flashed red with the fire, but Igor held his hand up. They trembled in their stillness.

"Something tells me there's more to the story." Igor's eyes were dark green, like a winter forest. They bounced between the two captives. Amaya and Lach exchanged a gaze but kept their lips shut tight. "But first, let's eat and drink. Romantic escapes always leave one hungry and thirsty, right?" A smile stretched across his thick lips, and he pushed the drink close to Amaya's mouth again.

"Don't drink it," Lach spat. "We can't trust Barbarians."

Igor offered a low belly chuckle. "You think we want to poison you? There are other more efficient ways to kill you, my friend," he said, looking down at his axe hanging from his hip. His forest eyes found Amaya again. "Drink." The cave stilled before she let the cup touch her lips, her eyes stubbornly stuck on the barbarian. Lach froze. Trusting. She was too trusting, and his hands were still tied. Water ran down her lips, and she coughed as the cup was taken away.

"Amari, give a drink to the insolent tongue here." Igor pointed to Lach.

"I don't want your poison," Lach spat and was again rewarded by a roar of laughter.

"Lach." Amaya started. "You must drink."

"Suit yourself, young man." Igor wiped his hands.

"You don't want this?" Amari asked. He didn't look as threatening as the others. His eyes crossed together, and his mouth was showing a constant grin. Lach jerked away as the man brought him the cup. He found Amaya's gaze begging. He inhaled deeply before nodding.

"Great. Now, let's eat!"

The fresh smell of meat impregnated the cave as it burned on the fire.

"Give me one more," Lach ordered Amari, who ran to take another piece of warthog hanging on a wood stick from the fire. They all ate, teeth sinking in the juicy warthog meat and tearing it apart, chewing, mouths wide open. Bett kept staring at Lach as they bit on the flesh. As the juice meat dripped from his mouth, Lach didn't hold back in throwing that same look. Amaya also let another man nourish her small bites, chewing warily.

It's only when the skeleton of the warthog shone clean that Igor brought the long-awaited subject.

"Now that your bellies are full. You all are going tell me why you are fleeing away." He sat on his throne nonchalantly, a leg over the armrest and a hand propelling his head.

Amaya went over the story of the attack. How the place was filled with blood and slaughtered bodies, how the men in black's eyes shone red like demons, and how they escaped. "We ended up in the forest and then...here."

Igor massaged his beard. "Who did that?"

"This is the act of commander Zakrus," Lach chimed in. "I saw him-." His throat closed in with blood sputtering from the King's throat. It was as if he could taste it, thick and vivid. The warthog turned in his stomach. "He is the one who did it."

"He has been against the Princess's wedding from the beginning," Amaya added.

"But why would he want to do that?" Igor's fiery eyebrows frowned in a question.

"Commander Zakrus believes he would lose his authority over the army." Amaya frowned. "He may want to get the Favor back for that." She added, more hesitant. Silence settled down inside the cave.

Igor put his leg down and leaned forward. "The Favor?"

Amaya nodded. "This is the only reason he would do that. The Prince of Mias is dead. There won't be a wedding. The only way he can get the power is through the Favor." She paused before adding with a tangible apprehension in her voice. "That's why you have to let us go."

The silence stretched like an eternity before Igor roared with laughter. The Barbarians' mouths opened wide with wolf laughs, acute and incessant as their bellies tremored. Bett was the only one to stay still. "You are telling me-" Igor struggled to talk through his laughter. "That you are the only ones that can prevent that? How so?"

Amaya's voice carried over the laughing. "We can get the Favor back."

Another roar of laughter grated the cave's walls. Lach snarled at them all. "We know where it is!" He went on. "It's in Keso and-"

"How would you know that? "Igor's voice flattened the laughter, and it died immediately.

"We just know." Amaya kept her eyes steady.

Igor stood up, his shadow hovering over him like a giant. "Enough." He looked at his pack before looking back at Lach and Amaya. "Get them outside."

Strong arms jolted Amaya and Lach to their feet. "Wait-" Amaya screamed at Igor as he headed outside.

"Get off of me!" Lach spat at the man manhandling him.

"Those things in the forest will savor them thoroughly," Bett stated with a smirk, and Lach swore if he wasn't tied up, he would make them eat rocks.

"Please!" Amaya screamed as they were dragged away. Her voice carried outside the dark night.