Artowen looked past the fields to the walls of Liofeld. The Band of the Promised One had only come to the edge of the forest, lands of crops that fed the residents of the city, clear green grass that filled the livestock, spread out before them.

  Far from an extravagant sight on the cloudy and depressing day, but warm and nostalgic nonetheless. I am finally home, once again.

  The journey returning had taken longer than he would have suspected, mostly due to the constant rain. Aunt Idwyn had insisted they take some detours as well since they were already out and about, a preemptive scouting for the coming battle.

  When they used Perowyn’s Crossing, the longest road in Dradris, travel went fast despite the weather conditions.

  “This road is not what it used to be, but it will suffice,” Aunt Idwyn had said.

  True. Despite falling somewhat into disrepair, the three Dradris Kingdoms adjacent debated its usage and put countless resources towards keeping the route locked down. That was nothing to say of the Uxsons, who also found its use priceless.

  For both races, the road was a blade that led to the heart of each. Welkia, Lenda, and Zernau had done enough to deter its use against Drajin by the Uxsons, but their constant bickering had blinded them. If they had spent less time battling among themselves, they could have used Perowyn’s Crossing to cut into the capital of the Uxsons long ago.

  A swift return home, despite the weather and a hotly contested route. Spring had brought many blessings, it seemed.

  Artowen’s companions were eager to escape the rain and wind once and for all, so instead of taking in the view, they quickly traveled to the city’s walls. The weather had not clouded their temperament; the future was bright in spite of all that surrounded them. United at last, though it was a tentative alliance.

  When the gate slowly pulled open, Artowen was taken aback by the sight before him. It was a welcoming parade, celebrating their arrival. The light drizzle cast from the sky did not put a damper on the fire of the people. The cheers and shouts went unabated.

  It had not been long since a similar procession had welcomed them into a capital city. This was far different, however, far more sincere. Yes, this was not some puppet show put on by a merrymaker, but a genuine thanks for finally uniting the Drajin.

  There was still much work to be done. The Drajin were not truly whole yet, but this was finally a step in the correct direction. Artowen looked toward the castle. More planning and discussion would take place, likely even some time for rest. But for this singular moment, he let himself be taken by the emotion of accomplishment as his people engulfed him in joyous greeting.

  The royal throne room of Welkia’s rulers had not changed since Artowen’s departure the previous year. He was kneeling, head bowed. The others were as well, all except for Aunt Idwyn. Though they all had a strong sense of self, not a single one of his band complained about the position they found themselves in.

  “Oh, enough of that. We are a council of equals. I would rather avoid the messy necessity of rank.” King Rowain said.

  “Your Majesty,” Aunt Idwyn said, “It is important to maintain the proper protocol. Especially when a Prince and a Queen from other Kingdoms are in your presence.”

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  He sighed. “Yes, yes. Very well then. At least raise your heads, and let this discussion commence.

  Artowen could not help but chuckle quietly, and he was not the only one who was unable to hold in that jovial expression. It was both Royce and Emerii, who had also known the King since childhood.

  “Your hospitality is appreciated, Your Majesty,” Brymoor responded.

  Rowain frowned.

  Once again, the trio repressed their delight.

  “We have gained the assistance of Bardoo, Zernau, and Lenda.” Aunt Idwyn said. “The alliance is tentative, but we have finally obtained their oath.”

  “Their promises mean nothing,” The Lord Captain hissed. “We have long learned that with those three. Leave them to the Uxsons, I say.”

  “We have created incentives for them to follow through. Two political prisoners, from Zernau and Lenda, respectively. As for Bardoo, we need not worry about them; they are fully cowed.”

  The Lord Captain grunted.

  “Now, now, this should be a joyful reunion,” Rowain cut in. “Our discussion of battle plans can wait for the leaders of each Kingdom. For now, I want to greet our guests and welcome our own warriors home.” He stepped from the throne and approached. “Lord Prince Brymoor and Your Grace Queen Brodwyn, it is good to see you both in fine health. I hope your father is also doing well, considering his age. Eira, I haven’t seen you since you were a wee lass. It brings joy to my heart that you’ve grown into such a capable warrior.” He then approached Mav and clasped a hand on the man’s shoulder as he jumped. “A new face, but undoubtedly irreplaceable.”

  Finally, the King of Welkia stepped before the three who called Liofeld their home. In one motion, he swept them all into a large hug. His arms spread wider than the fields of green, his musk strong but not pungent. A warm, fatherly embrace for the children of his Kingdom. It was not something that any of them had experienced much in their lives, Artowen knew. Despite all that lay before them, he let himself enjoy the luxury fully. “Emerii, Royce, and Artowen, job well done! This is a huge step not only toward unification but also toward the defeat of the Uxsons. Thank you, all of you.”

  “With all due respect, Your Majesty, there is still much to do,” Artowen said as he finally freed himself of the embrace. “This will not be enough; we will keep pushing forward.”

  “Still, it is important to celebrate victories, and this is no small win. Time is running low, but the Band of the Promised One has just finished an important mission and a long journey that saw you traveling through four Dradris Kingdoms. A few days’ rest is needed. That is my decree as King of Welkia!”

  The Lord Captain seemed unhappy with that proclamation, and Artowen noticed Royce’s eyes meeting with his father’s. There would be the usual trouble, he was sure. But perhaps Royce had already learned restraint, as he had not flung himself at his father’s earlier rudeness.

  “I agree they are entitled to a break, Your Majesty,” Aunt Idwyn said. “However, I believe we should continue with our debrief. Plans for the future can wait at the moment as we watch the situation change.”

  The Lord Captain sighed, then said, “You are stronger than when you left, Artowen. Perhaps now you will join the Royal Guard. It would be a boon to my men to have the Promised One among their ranks.”

  “You know my answer as always, Sir. It is not my place to be among you.”

  The man scratched his head. “I suppose the same goes for you, Emerii.”

  She simply smiled back at him.

  “Unfortunately for you, Royce, there is no choice.”

  “We will speak after this meeting, Father,” Royce responded.

  King Rowain clapped his hands to dispel the tension. “We got bits and pieces of the goings on, but now is the time to fully regale us with the tales of adventure. Let us have a meal and continue the discussions.”

  The food served would most certainly be filling, as would the company. Artowen’s friends, new and old, all around the feasting table. The only thing he could wish for would be for his Mother and Loo to be there as well.

  He doubted there would be enough time to go see them, but he took solace in the fact that he knew they were safe. That was the only few pieces missing from this reunion.

  The day carried on, discussions held, bellies filled, laughter and anguish shared. Whispers of the future hummed but never set in stone. For once, Artowen’s marriage to his duty waned. A short reprieve, as he lost himself in thoughts of a brief rest.

  A promised few days of relaxation. He already knew what would occupy his time. Old friends, old sights. He had not gotten nearly his fill the last time he had been in Liofeld.

  As for the rest of the band, he could only guess. For some, they might find their time here less comfortable. For others, a reprieve from the stress of their mission.

  No matter what they chose, they would be together, experiencing the city of Liofeld together. Until duty would finally call them away.