The sun was setting through the large windows, coating the banquet hall in amber light. A few elegant white tables were lined up in the center of the hall, with magic candlesticks providing additional light. Instead of flames, there were little white and golden lights that glowed, hovering above the wax sticks. At the far end, there was a throne placed the head of the table, where King Duraine sat. The five seats closest to him, one of which was a smaller, throne-like chair, were empty, held open for the five who would go on the quest to mount Tolndir. The rest of the seats at the table were full, hosting the Kings and those who accompanied them, as well as a few elven nobles. Everyone waited, their plates empty, for the five to enter. The chatter in the hall died down with the opening of the doors, all heads turning to watch the others enter.

One of the guards stepped just inside the door. “Presenting Jedd, honoured smith of Marhestia!” He announced.

Jedd grinned as he stepped into the room, walking past all the elves and others to take a seat near King Duraine. Decian rolled his eyes. Of course the elves would insist on this level of pomp. Prince Isgellian swallowed his anger, stepping through the door when he was announced. He waved, smiling widely to his people, and sat in the fancy chair next to his father. Avaeon went next. Decian watched as he kept his head down the entire length of the room. He pitied the man, truly. Ridley patted Decian’s shoulder, and winked, grinning widely, before stepping through the door. He sauntered down the length of the room, even doing a little spin halfway there. Decian sighed, feeling quite hopeless. He had to travel with these people? The fate of Mizhenia rested on the shoulders of a stuck-up prince, a satyr who couldn’t meet anyone’s eye, and a man who spun on the way to his chair? He held back a sigh and stepped up to the guard just as he was about to call out Decian’s name.

“Don’t.” Decian said simply. Nothing preluded his entry to the banquet hall, but it wasn’t as if anyone but Brabil was bothered by this. As soon as he stepped in, though, he could feel the eyes on him. Many of the gazes came from elves, cold and judgmental, which only hardened his expression more. As he walked, he stared King Duraine in the eyes. Challenging him. Daring him to look away. There was something dark and haunting in his reddish-orange glare, and the king couldn’t bear to hold his gaze for long. When Decian saw him look away, he felt a somewhat sadistic pride rise in his chest, as well as further contempt for the only king in the room who claimed a throne. He sat down in the last empty chair, between Avaeon and Jedd, not saying anything to either of them. He just wanted to get this over with.

Duraine put on the falsest smile Decian had seen from him yet as he stood. He raised his glass of wine to the table. “Friends of all races, welcome. Thank you for coming. I do wish it was under lighter circumstances that we have found ourselves together… Tonight, we honour our five brightest and bravest, before they commence their treacherous journey tomorrow.”

“No pressure.” Jedd muttered under his breath.

“To the five!” King Duraine cheered, raising his glass higher.

“To the five!” Everyone at the table echoed, raising theirs too. The five sat in silence, all too lost in their thoughts to bother deciding if they should join in the toast or if that would be strange, as it was in their name. Then, on King Duraine’s cue, servants came into the room carrying trays and bowls of food, setting them in the middle of the table. Decian recognised few of the dishes, and when a servant offered to fill his plate, he awkwardly asked for the only foods he knew were safe for him. Unfortunately, Brabil was too far away to ask what was and wasn’t safe for him.

A few musicians came in and began to play a lovely twinkly background to the banquet that would last into long into the dark hours of the night.

The food, though limited in variety for Decian, was delicious, and the wine was served whenever glasses emptied. Ridley once again proved to be an excellent story-teller, regaling those close enough to hear with tale after tale. He even got Decian to laugh, though softly, at one. However, that may have been thanks to the drink that loosened the soldier’s smile.

A couple hours into the dinner, Prince Isgellian sighed and looked to the others. Jedd was animatedly retelling the story of the first sword he had tried to make, and the other three were listening intently. “Excuse me.” Isgellian said, trying to get their attention. The story didn’t halt. None of them even looked at him. “Hello, you all?” He spoke louder this time. And sure, this time he had been heard, but no one cared to respond. Not in the middle of a story. Not for him. Isgellian sighed and stood. He picked up his glass, tapping his fork against it. The music, as well as all the chatter, stopped. Everyone turned to look at him. Decian frowned when he did, just like the others of the five. They were all a bit grumpy that he interrupted the story, after all.

Isgellian’s wide, fake smile was plastered on his face as he looked around the table. “Our dear guests, I would like to thank you, again, for coming,” He started, “But I’m afraid that me and the rest of the five are going to have to retire for the night. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and we still have planning to do tonight. So, thank you, again. You are truly, very dear to us. Good night.” He bowed shallowly and set the glass back down.

The rest of the table raised their glasses to them, but the others of the five remained silent, and still, exchanging shocked glances.

Ridley stood, and frowned at him. “You can’t just decide that we’re leaving.” He hissed.

“Well, none of you listened when I was trying to ask you about it. But now I’ve announced it, and we can’t very well go against it, can we?” The Prince smirked, “Come along. We have books on legends and interpretations of the prophecy in the library. We’ll need all the information we can get.” Isgellian began walking away from his spot at the table. The others had no choice but to get up and begrudgingly follow. The elven King sent the same blond servant that Decian had noticed the night before to go with them and aid them with whatever they needed. He went ahead, leading them even though Prince Isgellian knew the way there perfectly well. The servant opened up massive white doors to reveal the biggest library any of them had seen in their lives.

It was at least two stories high, with a combination of ladders and spiral staircases leading to upper levels. All of the walls were completely covered with bookshelves, save the far wall, which was mostly glass, massive windows looking out into the dark gardens. Decian could see stars in the sky. His back itched, but he did his best to ignore it as he looked around the beautiful library. The five walked over to a table, where several thick tomes had been taken out and set aside for them.

“I had someone fetch us some of our books of legends while we were at dinner,” Prince Isgellian explained, “Seeing as we have no idea what the Heart of Algabor is, let alone where to find it. Nor do we know where to begin looking for the supposed path up the mountain…” He sighed, and put his hands on the table, looking over to the group. “We really… We know nothing of this grand quest we must begin tomorrow, so until we can find at least our first steps,” He gestured to the books, “We read.”

A string of curses slowly ran through Decian’s mind as he and the others sat down and reached for a book. He hadn’t drunk that much; but what he had was making his thoughts a little fuzzy around the edges. He stared at the cover for a moment, focusing on the letters. He stared for a few moments too long, he was well aware… Everyone else had opened their books, their eyes darting around the first pages. Decian sighed softly and opened his up too. He sincerely hoped that this one wouldn’t have any mission-related information in it, because there was no way he could read in that state. Instead, he watched the letters shifting and flickering about the page, hardly trying to arrange them in their proper order. Every time Ridley turned a page, so did Decian.

It wasn’t until Decian came across an illustration of a gem that he realised he should focus. It was red and cut in a teardrop shape. Decian brought the book closer and squinted at the wiggling letters. He was fairly certain that the small font under the picture read ‘Algabor’s Heart?’ Damn. He thought to himself and looked at the others. I have no idea what this book is saying. He realised, with dread settling into his chest, that he would have to bring their attention to it. Just one paragraph, he decided. He could fake it so long as he read one paragraph.

Nearly fifteen minutes later, Decian spoke up. “Hey, everyone… Look at this…” He said softly, putting the book on the table in front of him where they could all see. The others looked up from their reading and inched closer. “Whoever wrote this talks about the Heart of Algabor. Or at least what they think it is… They say there was a gem fused into the hilt of the sword Algabor used to fight Bellorn. And that it was knocked out during the fight.”

“That’s gotta be why Algabor had ta back ‘im up ta Marhest… Bellorn had armour that was almost unbreakable. Maybe tha gem was enchanted?” Jedd suggested.

Avaeon had already grabbed the book and was skimming the text. Decian envied him for that ability. “It doesn’t say anything about where this happened, though…” Avaeon frowned as he read.

“Well I know Algabor an’ Bellorn fought by tha central lake, before Algabor had ta back ‘im up and lock ‘im in tha mountain?” Jedd said, “It’s prob’ly there.”

“So… we go to the central lake?” Decian asked. Avaeon and Jedd’s eyes went wide and snapped up to him.

“D’ya got a death wish?” Jedd gaped at him.

“No. But if that’s where the heart is, then that’s where we have to go.” Decian frowned, confused at their reactions.

“Wh-What about the… The monster?” Avaeon shuddered, as if the thought alone terrified him. He hugged his arms around himself. It amazed Decian just how wide the Satyr’s eyes could go.

“I’m not scared of monsters.” Decian scoffed, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. Isgellian rolled his eyes, but the others all seemed to exchange uneasy glances. Decian frowned. “What?”

“Ya should be, Decian.” Jedd said, “So many people’ve tried ta kill tha monster. But none of ‘em could. Tha thing took a real important port an’ turned it inta a ghost town. Not many people who’ve gone’ve ever come back…”

“You’re forgetting just one thing, Jedd.” Decian yawned and stood. “They’ve never sent a nocten to fight it. Everyone says the gods have disappeared, but in the Deep Wood, it’s as if Darkness is still there, always making new, more terrifying beasts to test us… And I haven’t lost, yet.” Everyone went silent as they stared at him. “Now, if any of us stay up any longer, we won’t have the energy to travel tomorrow. I say we go to bed. Jedd, you seem to know lots about this beast, yes?”

Jedd nodded, frowning nervously. “Yeah, it’s tha Siren… She’s like, part person, par—”

“I’m sure it’s very fascinating. I look forward to hearing all about her tomorrow. For now, we all need sleep.” Decian yawned again, taking a few steps away from the table.

“Who put you in charge?” Prince Isgellian scoffed.

“Hey, shut it Cow Pie. He’s right.” Jedd stood too. Isgellian crossed his arms, stubbornness lighting flames in his green eyes.

Without another word, Ridley and Avaeon followed the lead of the others, quietly shuffling out of the library. Just before Decian shut the door, he glanced over to where Prince Isgellian still sat at the table. The blond servant who had been sent to assist the five approached him. “Y-Your highness, may I… speak to you?” He asked, wringing his hands together.

The nocten didn’t stick around to hear the Prince’s answer. No one did. They all returned to their rooms for the night. The danger of their upcoming quest beginning to settle in the pits of their stomachs, none of them slept soundly.

Least of all, Decian.