Hell bound with you

A storm on the horizon

Amelia couldn’t understand what Ivar was trying to say. His words passed over her like wind through the leaves. Unsure how to respond, she changed the subject.

“Did you hear? Soldiers are gathering on the northern mountain. They might invade the forest soon. I saw them on my way here.”

They began walking, the silence between them heavy.

“Yes, I saw them,” Ivar replied.

Amelia frowned. “What do they even want? I don’t understand their motive. Last time, they destroyed our whole village.”

Ivar stopped and turned toward her.

“Amelia.”

She looked at him. “Yes?”

“Will you promise me something?”

His serious tone made her uneasy. “Yes.”

“Promise me you’ll keep yourself safe. From now on don’t wander into the forest.”

Amelia lowered her gaze before answering. “You should be the one protecting yourself. You live in that damn forest. You should leave until this is over. Do you have somewhere to stay?”

A faint smile touched Ivar’s lips. “Hmm… I sense something here. Are you worried about me?”

Her cheeks flushed. “I’m worried about the whole village, including you. Don’t make things up in your head.”

Ivar chuckled, his laughter warm and teasing. “I’ve already made things up, and you can’t stop me.”

Amelia opened her mouth to argue, but Ivar continued.

“You might not see me for a while. Don’t come into the forest looking for me. Just miss me from home.”

Her face reddened. “You’re really something. Don’t tell me what to do. I’ll do whatever I want.”

She turned and walked away, but Ivar caught her hand and pulled her back.

“You will do as I said,” he said firmly. “When this chaos is over, I’ll tell you my secrets—the ones you’re so eager to know. Do we have a deal?”

Her breath caught. “Do you promise? You won’t break it afterward?”

Ivar smiled. “No. If I live.”

The smile vanished from her face.

“You will live,” she said firmly. “You have to. You still have to tell me your secrets.”

Ivar’s expression softened.

“Your home is near. I should leave. You’ll be in trouble if your mother sees you with me. Go home safely.”

Amelia watched him disappear into the woods, an unfamiliar ache settling in her chest.

When she reached home, Alexis was waiting at the door.

“What took you so long?” her mother asked. “Why are you always late these days?”

“There were soldiers all over the market. I could barely buy the groceries.” Amelia muttered.

“I know." Alexis took the bag from Amelia's hand. Lucy’s mother came by earlier and told me. Things are getting worse.”

That evening, the family gathered for dinner.

“Amelia,” her father said, “a young man came to my shop today. He was asking about you.”

Amelia froze, her spoon halfway to her mouth. "What?" she asked, her voice sharp with surprise.

Amelia guessed who that man could be.

Amelia's father raised an eyebrow at her reaction but continued. "He said he met you at the grand ball. Do you remember him?"

The words sent a jolt through her. Her fingers faltered, and the spoon slipped from her hand, clattering against the plate. Her mother glanced at her with concern. Amelia quickly gathered herself, her cheeks flushed.

"I met quite a few men that day," she said, trying to sound indifferent. "I don’t remember who he could be."

Amelia's father studied her for a moment before shrugging. "He seemed eager to speak with you. Polite young man, but a bit... persistent. And he seems to be from a noble family."

Alexis chimed in, her voice laced with suspicion. "What would he want with you?" She turned to her husband. "Did you inquire about his family?"

Her father replied, "Yes, he told me that he is the son of the Duke of Aldmoor. Does that ring any bell to you, Amelia?"

Amelia shook her head quickly. "No, Papa, I don't remember him."

Her mother didn’t look entirely convinced, but Eric changed the subject, sparing her further interrogation.

Amelia barely touched her food. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, one concern chasing another.

Why on earth would he talk to my father? she thought, her brows furrowing. What does he want? And how did he even know my father?

⸻

Invading the forest was no simple feat, especially during winter, when temperatures plunged far below freezing. The cold seeped into the soldiers’ bones, weakening even the strongest among them. Frostbite and the constant threat of freezing to death drained their strength and morale. But the weather was only one enemy. The forest itself was filled with danger—wild animals lurking in the shadows, sudden avalanches crashing down narrow mountain paths, and violent snowstorms capable of leading even experienced scouts astray.

Yet the most frightening threats were the ones no soldier could see.

Whispers spread through the camp of monstrous creatures hiding deep within the forest. Some claimed the beasts attacked in the dead of night, leaving behind nothing but blood and silence. Whether the stories were true or merely legends no longer mattered. Fear had already taken root among the men.

But the king had given his orders, and no one dared question them.

For the people of Riverfield village, the forest was more than a place of danger. It was their lifeline.

Nestled at the foot of the mountains, Riverfield endured long and brutal winters. The frozen soil made farming nearly impossible, and whatever crops the villagers planted rarely survived the bitter cold. They depended on the forest for almost everything. Its trees provided firewood, its plants supplied berries and herbs, and its animals gave them meat.

When the king’s soldiers arrived and established their camp nearby, life became even harder. The villagers were already struggling to survive, yet they were forced to feed the soldiers, who often seized their livestock and supplies.

Some soldiers treated the villagers fairly. Others showed no mercy.

They forced the men into hard labor and preyed upon the women, taking them from their homes without fear of consequence. Those who resisted were brutally punished, sometimes losing their lives.

Young women suffered the most. Some soldiers used their authority as an excuse to take whichever woman caught their attention, dragging them away from their families while terrified villagers stood powerless to intervene.

The forest, once their greatest source of hope, now seemed like a curse hanging over Riverfield.

If the king’s men destroyed it for their own gain, the villagers would have nothing left. They would freeze, starve, and watch their way of life disappear.

Yet they had no power to stop them.

Fear and despair settled over the village, making each day feel darker and colder than the last.

⸻

Caspian tightened the reins of his horse as he rode away from the Riverfield woodshop. The animal snorted softly, its breath forming a pale cloud in the freezing air. Behind him, the warm glow of the woodshop gradually disappeared into the falling darkness.

The village, nestled against the mountains, was already preparing for another bitter night.

Caspian urged his horse into a steady canter. Snow muffled the sound of its hooves as they followed the winding path toward the northern mountains.

The farther he climbed, the colder the air became. The wind bit against his exposed face, forcing him to pull his cloak tighter around his shoulders. Eventually, through the curtain of falling snow, the soldiers’ camp came into view.

Rows of tents stood scattered across the mountainside, their entrances glowing faintly in the evening gloom. Smoke curled from makeshift chimneys as soldiers gathered around fires, desperately trying to keep warm.

Caspian dismounted near the edge of the camp. His boots sank into the snow as several soldiers paused their work and bowed respectfully.

He carried a bundle of firewood he had brought from Riverfield and approached a group huddled around a central fire.

“Here,” he said, tossing the firewood down. “You’ll need this tonight.”

“Thank you, my prince,” one soldier said, looking up with evident relief.

Caspian nodded. “Where’s General Alrick?”

A younger soldier pointed toward a large tent near the center of the camp. “In there, sire.”

With a brief nod, Caspian strode toward the tent, his cloak billowing behind him.

He ducked inside, immediately grateful for the warmth. General Alrick stood over a table covered with maps, his imposing figure illuminated by the flickering light of a lantern. Years of battle had hardened his features, but his sharp eyes remained alert.

“My prince,” Alrick said, straightening. “What brings you here? We haven’t received orders to advance into the forest yet.”

Caspian removed his gloves and approached the brazier. “I’m aware,” he replied. “I came to check on the preparations. How are the men holding up?”

Alrick’s expression softened. “The men are managing well, despite the cold. Supplies are sufficient for now, and morale is steady.”

Caspian nodded, though his brow remained furrowed. “Good. But I didn’t come here just to inspect the camp, Alrick. I don’t trust my father. He’s unpredictable, and I fear his next order could cost unnecessary lives.”

Alrick studied him for a moment.

“Your concern for the men speaks volumes, my prince. You’ve always had a rare sense of responsibility.”

“That’s why I’m staying here tonight,” Caspian said firmly. “If he gives an order that puts our men in needless danger, I’ll be here to temper it. I refuse to let innocent lives be lost for his whims.”

A flicker of pride crossed Alrick’s face.

“The men will be reassured by your presence. They trust you, as do I.”

Caspian managed a faint smile. “You’ve always been more than a general to me, Alrick. You’ve been a mentor, a father figure, and the one who taught me the meaning of loyalty.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the soft crackle of the brazier.

Outside, soldiers prepared for the night, unaware of what tomorrow might bring.

Caspian placed a hand on Alrick’s shoulder. “Get some rest. Tomorrow may demand more from us than we expect.”

“And you, my prince,” Alrick replied. “The men will sleep easier knowing you’re here.”

Caspian stepped back into the frigid night and looked across the camp. Fires flickered against the darkness as murmured voices drifted through the cold air.

Tonight, he was not merely a prince observing the army.

He was one of them—sharing their hardship, standing beside them, and preparing for whatever waited beyond the northern mountains.