SIX
1240 Words
The night's atmosphere was very gloomy, brought on by the ever frosty wind that had become a norm in the Barren lands since the beginning of winter; and although the bright full moon was trying its best to lighten things up a bit, the little flakes of ice that still fluttered lazily all about even though the heavy snow had long since ceased was enough to put its efforts on the back foot. But neither the gloomy atmosphere nor the bright full moon made an effect on the Knight as he walked into the mountain cave that was just beside the forest which he and the people of the settlement had faced Warlord Landon's soldiers and emerged victorious a few hours earlier.
The caves of the Barren lands were actually of a special kind. Thing is, nature had made them in such a way that they could retain tremendous heat regardless of the temperature or time of day in the region. And this ability was what made the Barren landers feel them to be the perfect to hole up, especially during a strong winter night such as the one that raged through the realm at that time; and some of them even went on to make a lot of the caves into hibernation spots for the season, bringing in foods and supplies to last them through the time just like the mountain bears resident of the region.
However, it wasn’t the cave’s hospitable conditions that had made the Knight come to it that night but rather something else entirely; the chest he had won off the Captain.
At a mere cursory glance, the chest looked like something that wasn’t worth the value that had been accorded it. It had an ancient-looking brown colour which combined with the rusted metal band around it certainly didn’t make one think up any thoughts of beauty at first sight. But just as the Knight already knew, there was more to the chest than meets the eye.
The Knight reached the innermost part of the cave; a large compartment deep within the rock which was lit with so many candles that it gave the entire area a fiery gold colour. In the centre of this compartment was a long makeshift stone table on which three other chests that looked exactly like the one that was just brought in laid open. The Knight added the newly brought chest to the others. "Another one," he whispered to himself as he stood back with his arms akimbo.
Just then, he put his hands to his helmet, and pulling it off, revealed surprisingly not a man but actually a familiar woman with a raven black hair and brown eyes; Kyra.
Kyra gazed at the chests on the table as her thoughts went back to a time when she was someone different; when she was the Soul of magic. But she was no longer that person, not anymore.
***
Freya immediately went for her bow as she snapped out of her thoughts at the thud of something heavy landing next to her. Looking up though, she realised that it was only her twin brother Morgan who had thrown a half-full satchel at her and missed. "I do like this thinking version of you but I would rather you be packing seeing that we’re pressed for time," he said to her, going back to search through their humble cottage for whatever needed to be packed for the long journey ahead.
As it turned out, the people of the settlement had decided to move on to a new area after their battle that day with the soldiers; a conclusion which wasn’t very hard to reach after considering that the warlord would probably be coming for them with the entirety of his army when the news of what they'd done got back to him.
"So, what is it that has gotten you in the thinking mood?" Morgan asked Freya after a while of them packing, knowing fully well that pondering over matters wasn't exactly his sister's strongest suit. But Freya wasn't prepared to talk about it so she chose instead to concentrate more on the packing with more energy than necessary.
However, knowing fully well that her brother would probably not give it up until he got a suitable answer, the pale-blonde archer decided to respond later on. "I was thinking about the chest," she said/ "It has really been nagging at me since it disappeared."
"That again?" Morgan sighed; an indication of how almost fed up he was becoming with Freya’s sudden obsession over the chest. "But you said the Knight took it."
"And that's what has me worried, Morgan," she returned. "I mean, why did he have to take it?"
"Look, Freya," Morgan said, standing up so that she could see the seriousness in his eyes at the matter, "everyone in the settlement already has what was taken from them returned and no one appears to be missing this chest of yours. So obviously, it doesn't belong to anyone here."
"But I saw the look in the Captain's eyes as he held onto that chest," she replied him, still unconvinced. "It was like his life depended on it."
"So what?" Morgan returned. "People die for stupid things every day, doesn't make them any more important than they are."
"But that doesn't explain why the Knight took it away!" she countered again, the confusing state of everything getting her riled up. "Believe me Morgan, he's up to something, and this chest is an important step to figuring out what that is."
It was in that moment that everything finally became clear to Morgan; it was never about the chest or returning it back to its rightful owner. Freya was just after discrediting the Knight.
But just before he could tell his sister how unreasonable she was being, she stormed out of the cottage. "And where in the world do you think you're going?" he shouted as he ran after her, catching up just as she saddled her horse.
"To find proof," she replied, mounting her horse in one fluid movement. "I'm going to show you and everyone else that the Knight isn’t the hero everyone thinks he is."
"This is madness, Freya!" Morgan shouted at her. "We should be concerning ourselves with getting out of here before the warlord arrives and not this baseless accusation of yours."
"It won't be baseless when I show all of you who the Knight really is," she returned, getting ready to gallop off.
But Morgan drew her hands away from the reins just before she could. "Freya, please," he said to her, his voice dropping to almost a whisper as his eyes begged for her sensibility. “Don't be rash.”
"I'm not being rash, Morgan," she replied, "everything I'm doing right now is so that we can all be safe."
"At least let me help you then," he said again, not relenting. "Let me come with you."
"You would really come with me?" asked Freya, suddenly unsure of how to react to Morgan’s new resolve. "I mean, what about your whole the warlord's coming stand?"
"Well, you're my sister and I hold you above every stand," he replied, smiling as he touched her cheek affectionately. "So lead the way, Freya. Let's go pay the Knight a visit."
- Writer
