Metanoia

Chapter Two

The castle gates loomed large over the horizon, their iron bars shimmering as they caught the morning light. Beyond the walls stretched the vast countryside, brushed in the soft colors of dawn. The air was crisp and biting, hinting at chillier days to come.

Nael stood at the entrance, his few belongings crammed into a light satchel he had slung over his shoulder. His sword, polished yet worn, hung at his side. He hadn’t slept the night before, clear by the dark shadows underneath his eyes.

Next to him is his horse, a black stallion—Pepper, he calls affectionately—saddled and ready, its breath visible in the morning air. Nael’s hand rested on the reins, fingers curling and uncurling, the motion oddly calming.

The courtyard was nearly empty, save for a few servants who lingered at a distance, their eyes downcast and expressions somber.

‘Just like a funeral,’ Nael thought.

Varnok, as expected, was nowhere to be seen. His uncle had made his dismissal clear the night before, a cold farewell wrapped in formalities.

The sound of hooves caught Nael’s attention. He raised his head to see Thea—dressed in riding leathers with a cloak draped over her shoulders—riding into view, her figure imposing on top of her white mare as it moved with grace and precision. She dismounted effortlessly, her boots clicking against the gravel as she approached him.

“You’re late,” Nael said with no real bite to his words.

“You’re still here, are you not?” Thea replied, raising an eyebrow.

Nael let out a quiet laugh. “Fair point.”

She stopped a few paces away, her expression inscrutable as she took him in. Her gaze lingered on the satchel, then the sword at his hip, and finally settled on his face. “Do you have everything you need?”

“More or less,” Nael replied, adjusting the strap of his bag. “I doubt I’ll find much use for courtly manners out there.”

“No, but you’ll need your wits,” Thea said bluntly, but the corner of her lips curled up to something reminiscent of a smile. “And your sense of self-preservation, which, frankly, has always been lacking.”

“I’ll manage,” Nael chuckled softly.

Neither of them spoke a word for a moment. The silence stretched, heavy with things left unsaid. Finally, Thea reached into her cloak and pulled out a small, leather-bound journal.

“Take this,” she said, holding it out to him.

Nael frowned, hesitating before taking it. “What is it?”

“A record,” Thea replied simply. “Notes on the court, the kingdom, and everything I’ve learned. If something happens to me—or you—there should still be a thread of truth left behind.”

Her tone was dry, as always, but Nael didn’t miss the diligent care beneath her words. He tightened his grip on the journal, nodding. His sister had always been so wise, yet the court refused to acknowledge her because of personal bias.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Thea bowed her head slightly, a rare acknowledgment. “You’ll need it.”

The castle bells tolled behind them, the deep chimes marking the hour. It was time.

“You should go,” Thea said, retreating. Her voice softened ever so slightly. “Goodbye, Nael. Stay alive.”

“I will,” Nael said, trying to hide the uncertainty in his voice. “Goodbye, Thea.”

He mounted his horse in one smooth motion, Pepper shifting under him as he gathered the reins. The gates groaned open, their iron bars creaking as they swung wide to reveal the open road.

Thea watched as Nael urged his horse forward. He didn’t look back as he rode through the gates and into the world beyond, the kingdom growing smaller and smaller until it was but another speck on the vast horizon behind him.

The first stretch of Nael’s journey was marked by silence, only broken by the rhythmic clacker of Pepper’s hooves as they beat along the path. The air smelled of damp air and brought humid winds, and the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across rolling hills. Despite the great expanse around him, Nael couldn't help but feel tethered to the thoughts running through his mind.

He had never been this far from the castle before, even in the rare instances he was allowed to go outside. Fields stretched endlessly, dotted with the occasional farmhouse, and beyond them, the forests loomed like dark pillars. Though he passed a few travelers along the way—merchants with creaking carts, peasants carrying bundles of firewood—they gave him wary glances and moved aside without a word.

It wasn’t long before the road grew rougher, the cobblestones giving way to packed dirt. By evening, the fields had faded into dense woods. The trees bowed overhead, their branches forming into a canopy that blotted out the waning light. The further he rode, the quieter the world around him became.

Nael stopped Pepper near a clearing, deciding to rest before night fell completely. He dismounted stiffly, wincing as his legs protested the hours in the saddle. Pepper snorted and pawed the ground as Nael tethered it to a low-hanging branch, leaving it to graze on the surrounding grass.

The clearing was sparse, though it offered enough space to build a fire. Nael gathered a few dry twigs and branches, his movements awkward but methodical. He had spent his sleepless night reading about survival in the wild, but applying said knowledge was a whole other story. The fire crackled to life after several failed attempts, and Nael allowed himself a small measure of pride.

Nael sat back against a log, his cloak pulled tight against the chill. He reached into his saddlebag and retrieved a small slice of bread—simple compared to the feasts of the castle, but it was enough for him.

He ate in silence, his gaze fixed on the fire. His thoughts wandered to the Faelands, a place he had come to know through the whispers that drifted through the hallways and the books he read. Some described it as a land of beauty, where rivers sparkled like liquid silver and the forests were alive with song, while others described it as a place of treachery, where mortals disappeared without a trace and deals were struck at the expense of one’s soul.

Nael shivered; from the cold or anticipation, he didn’t know. He had no idea what awaited him there, but it had to be better than his life back in the palace.

A sudden crack in the darkness snapped him back to reality. Nael hurried to his feet, his hand reaching for the hilt of his sword. The surrounding forest was silent now except for the faint hum of the breeze. From a distance, Pepper let out a low, anxious whinny.

“Who’s there?” Nael called, his voice steady despite the unease creeping into his chest.

Predictably, no response came. His eyes scanned the shadows beyond the flickering firelight, trying to make out movement.

‘Probably just a deer,’ he thought to himself.

But as he returned to the fire’s side, settling down, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was being watched.

That night, he couldn’t get himself to rest for longer than a minute, his nerves on edge and alight with paranoia. By the time dawn finally arrived, Nael was already awake, and the embers of his fire were reduced to ash.

He mounted Pepper once more, fatigued, but he could only shake it off. The road ahead would only become more perilous, and he had no choice but to face it.

The Faelands awaited, and he couldn’t afford to delay now.