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𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑵𝑫𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐔𝐍 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐑𝐄𝐃, 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐘 𝐔𝐏 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐘. Thousands of dewdrops decorated the seemingly endless grassfields and their translucent surface shimmered like fiery gemstones as they reflected the shining sun above. A gentle yet somewhat frisk breeze blew the fluffy clouds towards the south where the mountains lay and it caused the knee-high grass to roll like the waves of a calm sea.

Although nature had only just begun to awaken and most animals were still asleep, the young woman wandering through the grassland had been awake since the pale streak of light at the horizon had announced the oncoming sunrise. She sat atop a chestnut mare which strolled through the grass in the same confident manner that the young woman radiated, though the horse looked a bit sleepier than her owner.

Alara loved to rise with the sun and whenever she could, she enjoyed witnessing the sunrise away from the castle walls between which she had grown up. The elated feeling of freedom filled her chest when she halted her horse on top of the small hill she had been riding to and while breathing deeply in and out the crisp morning air, she watched the sun rising higher and higher.

The rays of sunshine warmed up the soil between the grass blades and the dewdrops evaporated, causing a faint scent of petrichor to mix with the fresh wind that came from the north.

Alara had once said that the northern wind felt more hostile than the other directions and while her professor had corrected her by replacing the word "hostile" with "cold", it wasn't what she had meant. Alara was however a fast learner and she never spoke of it again, conditioned to the fact that the wind could either feel cold or warm, strong or weak, but never hostile since it didn't have a personality.

Still, deep in her heart, Alara had remained calling the northern wind hostile and then several months ago, when one day the hostility had suddenly changed to loving, Alara knew something in the north had changed as well. So when her father had received word a few days later that the Telmarine prince had overthrown his uncle and given the kingdom of Narnia back to its rightful people, it came to no surprise for Alara, only as a realisation; Narnia was now no longer angry, it was at peace. All these years, the northern wind had mirrored that as it travelled through the Narnian trees before it reached Archenland.

Though Alara had felt astonished when she also realised that Narnia's rightful people were fauns, dwarves, centaurs, naiads and other creatures she had only ever heard of from fairy tales. It was still difficult to wrap her mind around it since she, like every other child in the kingdom, had been taught that the Narnians had gone extinct during the Telmarine Conquest many centuries ago.

'I don't suppose you're secretly a talking horse, are you?' Alara asked her horse, remembering the tale of her great-great grandmother Aravis over thirteen hundred years ago.

She waited a few heartbeats but her horse named Firefly remained silent and she pushed a few strands of her red hair that had escaped the braid behind her ears. In the light of the upcoming sun, Alara's hair looked like fire itself, causing the contrast between her hair and her freckled, pale complexion to stand out even more.

'You know, talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity,' a voice suddenly spoke up and for a split second, Alara thought Firefly could indeed talk and she almost fell out of the saddle. As she regained her balance though, Alara realised the voice had come from behind her and she turned her head as far as she could, pushing her feet down in the stirrups to stand up so that her upper body could move along.

At the edge of the grass hill stood Galen, her cousin who was a knight of Anvard and often assigned to Alara for her safety whenever they went on travels outside the castle. However, she had never seen him during one of her morning rides.

'Galen?' Alara asked, the perplexity sounding through her voice. 'What are you doing here? And I wasn't talking to myself, I was talking to Firefly,' she defended herself.

Galen smiled whereby the fine lines around his blue eyes became deeper. 'I'm not sure if that's in favour of your sanity.'

'I cannot recall I've asked for your opinion.' Alara tried to sound as serious as possible, but her wide grin at the end of the sentence told otherwise. She swung one of her legs forward over the saddle, skillfully dodging the horse's neck, and she slid feet down out of the saddle towards the ground where her sturdy boots met with the soil in a shallow thud.

After a short glance back over his shoulder to make sure his horse was still waiting at the foot of the hill, Galen walked closer towards her and he bowed deeply before her. 'Please forgive me, princess. I shall never speak out of turn ever again,' he said, the sarcasm dripping heavily from his voice.

'Stop it.' Alara chuckled and gestured for him to stand straight again. 'In all seriousness, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be patrolling the castle walls?'

Galen shook the strands of blond hair out of his face that had fallen in front of him during the bow and he gave her a funny look. 'You think we'd let the crown princess sneak away from the castle every morning without someone keeping an eye on her?'

Alara's green eyes widened. 'You have followed me every morning when I went out for a ride?'

'Yes,' Galen answered with a shrug.

Somehow, Alara felt a bit betrayed but also ashamed she had never even noticed someone following her. On horseback nonetheless, she realised when she spotted the black stallion waiting.

'And why did you show yourself now?' she asked, her voice harsher than she had meant to hide her embarrassment.

'This message came via the raven I'm certain you saw flying through the air not too long ago.' Galen held up a small scroll of parchment as Alara recalled indeed having seen a raven crossing her eyesight several minutes ago.

'Your parents request your presence during breakfast,' he continued, adjusting the broad leather belt around his chest that kept the longsword strapped to his back and he put the message back into the pocket of his black trousers.

Alara spun around to look at the climbing sun; breakfast was served two hours after dawn which meant she had to hurry back. 'You could've led with that,' she scolded him as she didn't like being late. She hoisted herself back in the saddle, grasping the reins and pushing her calves in Firefly's belly to urge the mare in fast trot downhill.

Galen hurried downhill as well, careful not to trip over his own feet as the gravity pulled him down faster than he'd like to admit but he let out a chuckle when Alara thundered past him with an almost frantic expression.

'Do not worry, princess,' he said while climbing on his horse to follow her hasted movements. 'Your sister's presence is requested as well, but I'm sure they'll still be trying to wake her up by the time we arrive back at the castle.'

Alara shot him a look over her shoulder as they galloped over the grasslands. 'That's not the point,' she said despite the truth in his statement; everyone in the castle knew that while Alara rose with the sun, her sister Sionnan rose with the moon.

Alara however, didn't care about still being earlier than her sister, she cared about being on time, and Galen must have read the answer in her unwavering gaze as he didn't respond but escorted her in silence back to castle Anvard.

The capital city of Archenland lay between a range of mountains that stretched over the land for hundreds of miles and it could only be reached by taking a stone pass, leading over a deep chasm that separated the two mountains known as Hod Damaren and Hod Ranvar.

At the other side of the pass, a massive pine forest sprouted from the rich, dark soil and a small stream of fresh water trickled all the way from the mountain's waterfall, past the city towards the Great Eastern Sea.

Several miles beyond the pass, the forest gradually changed into fields of corn, wheat, cotton and vegetables that the farmers of Anvard took great care of. Even at this early hour, the farmers were busy with nurturing their crops and the occasional low mooing of oxes travelled through the air as the sturdy animals ploughed through the earth. Several farmers greeted Alara and Galen as they rode past, but most worked too far away from the main road to acknowledge or to even notice them.

A high wall encircled the moatless city, but the castle lay on higher ground and towered over all of the houses and the wall like an ancient watcher that could see everything. The reddish-brown stones of the castle glittered like rubies and amber in the light of the morning sun and if the many towers were looked at from above, those knowledgeable would notice they were built in the same shape of the constellation Sun Warrior.

Every third month of the summer season, the castle's towers and the celestial bodies aligned perfectly, and the simplified symbol of the constellation had been the royal crest of Archenland ever since the creation of the castle.

When Alara reached the diamond-shaped courtyard, she quickly dismounted her horse and landed gracefully on the white, grey and red coloured stones. She waited several heartbeats for the stable hand to arrive until she realised their shift hadn't started yet, and she cast an anxious look at the sun. She didn't have enough time left to properly stall her horse and she sighed in relief when Galen offered to take Firefly to the stables.

'Thank you,' she said and he nodded.

'Better not keep the King and Queen waiting then.'

Alara spun on her heels and walked as fast as she could towards the main gate, ascending the few stone steps before she could enter the entrance hall that lay beyond the arched twin doors.

The highly polished cherry wood of the hallway's flooring seemed almost red as she walked over it and she set course towards the dining hall, rounding corner after corner without thinking as she knew the layout of the castle like the back of her hand.

The high ceilings of the arched hallways were supported by many columns and the engravings of oaken leaves in the sculpted stones were accentuated by bronze paint as they encircled the head and foot of each column.

The tall doors leading to the dining hall stood wide open, but Alara took a few moments to calm her breathing and to stroke a few wrinkles out of her green tunic she wore above her black riding trousers and additional coloured boots that were now smudged with mud. She wished she could have changed into something a bit more appropriate before meeting with her parents, but alas, she couldn't let them wait any longer, and so, with a deep breath, Alara stepped inside. . .

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