Dream of Dragons

information with Loren. Past that were ruined castles, taken over by the cold and abandoned in the desolate, frozen wasteland. The cold choked the past settlements and the lords of keeps till they were forced to flee further south. Loren shook her head, there was no way Kaiten would have been brought there.
The paved highway from Markholme continued till a series of jagged lines split the map almost in two. These marked the Kilrough mountain range. In ages past, travelers hoping to pass through the mountains would have to go north to where the mountains level out and a path opened, or attempt to cross over. Most died from falling from sheer drops, and misplaced feet on unsteady rock paths. It took two hundred years till a path had been carved and blasted through the mountains and straight out the other side.
Loren briefly considered touching a faded mark near the northern path through the Kilrough mountains, when she thought better of it and went back to tracing the highway instead. The mark represented Yureun — the lost kingdom — and its surrounding mountains. The tales were that the queen of that kingdom cursed her subjects with a plague. Everyone there had died, they say, except the queen and her king. It had been centuries since the plague, and reports from the area still say nothing grows on Yureun’s cursed land.
Loren sighed, quickly running out of ideas where her friend and heir to the Beastmen throne could have been taken. Queen Katarina silently came up behind her daughter, gently took Loren’s hand, and guided her finger through the map past the jagged Kilrough mountains and out the other side. She stopped and let go once Loren’s finger touched a symbol that represented a volcano and the crest of the kingdom that made its home on it’s slopes.
“Mount Volknar.” Loren said. “The kingdom of Sagna.”
“You heard the messenger yourself, Loren. It was a gift from Queen Haedria.” Katarina said, returning to her desk. She continued to write messages to allies and orders for the troops on the parchment. “But we cannot do anything at the moment without risking an all-out war. It is all speculation for now that Kaiten was captured, and possibly taken to Sagna. He could have just as well run away. We do not know.”
“The dragon protects it’s friends.” Loren muttered, looking back to the sigil of Sagna on the map: two rearing lionesses in red on a black ground.
“What was that, dear?”
“Nothing, mother. Just thinking.”
Loren left her mother’s study deep in thought. What was Haedria’s plan? Did she assassinate the lion king purely out of spite? What was the purpose of sending his pelt with a messenger to Aldoran? She could have left the body intact in Rhodia, but she didn’t. The princess couldn’t make sense of it all, and she walked the halls of the castle with the burning question: why? Maybe some fresh air was what she needed.
The king and queen were busy planning with the advisers on what to do and how to carry it out without letting the public fall to panic and chaos. Rumors were already spreading in the market place about a war between Aldoran in the west and Sagna in the east. Merchant captains hoping to make quick money have been spreading lies to scare the commoners. If the public was scared enough to run away from the possibility of war, they would sell their possessions and pay big for the chance at passage to a safer country. The Spymaster was doing his best to quell the rumors, but with Isran doing the Warmaster’s duties at the same time, his plans were falling apart. And the king and queen haven’t been seen in public since Gaturr’s pelt was delivered. All things considered, Loren decided she could take a stroll through Markholme to show the people that the royal family were not scared, they were just busy.
The stables stood just inside the gates of the castle grounds. It had a circle of ground — tamped down flat by horse’s hooves — where the horses owned by the royal family were brought out for exercise every morning. Inside where a dozen stalls, but not all occupied. Queen Katarina did love animals, but she would rather have them free and roaming around. While the Beastmen looked down on ferals, they appreciated the Queen’s reluctance to keep animals in captivity. Loren approached a stall that held a young chestnut colt. The horse trotted up to the gate of his stall and stuck his tongue out through the bars.
Loren chuckled and flicked the horse’s tongue with her finger. “Wind! Aww, I missed you too. Do you want to go for a run?”
Wind lifted his head and neighed, excited at the idea. He pranced about in his cell for a while before coming up to the doors. Loren let him out, and the horse followed the princess patiently while she collected her saddle and reins. A human stablehand approached Loren, bowing low once he got close.
“My lady, please let me help you.” He said, stuttering slightly. Loren noticed he was young, and very muscled from labor. The stable hand stared at the floor and kept his gaze away from Loren.
“It’s quite alright, sir.” Loren replied, expertly saddling Wind by herself. “I’m sorry, I hope you don’t mind me asking… But are you new here?”
The stable hand straightened up, startled. “Yes, my lady. I just started this morning. How did you know?”
Loren smiled. “Because I always saddle Wind on my own. Stable Master Varuch taught me how to care for the horses since I was young, and Wind’s a picky colt.”
“I’m sorry my lady, I didn’t know!” The stable hand said, bowing low.
“Uh… Please don’t do that, you really don’t have to. Please, just call me Loren. What’s your name?”
“Arion, my lady.” The stable hand replied, stuttering.