But Dracye only laughed, low and amused, the sound curling like smoke in the night. He stepped closer, reached out, and with a gesture both intimate and commanding, patted Thar’s shoulder. And without giving a reply, he took the reins, swung into the saddle with fluid ease, and settled atop the restless horse.

Dracye’s gaze dropped briefly to Thar, “I didn’t even know about it's existence,” he murmured, almost to himself. “That’s the problem. A land that resourceful, that rich and I somehow overlooked it all this time? No. I need to see it. With my own eyes. I want to know what that kingdom hides beneath its silk and smiles.”

Thar finally gave in, shifting slightly, his hand brushing near the hilt of his blade as though half-expecting trouble to erupt. 

“And if Lord Vaelthron returns while you’re gone…? What exactly do I tell him?”

“Tell him I went for a hunt,” he said, his tone casual, almost teasing.

“And when he asks what you were hunting?”

Dracye’s smile returned, “Tell him… I’ll be back. Well-fed.”

With that, he spurred the horse forward, its hooves slicing through the dry earth as a strange, glitching hiss followed faintly in his wake.

zzk… zzzk… zkkk.

Thar remained behind, standing alone in the fading darkness, his face drawn tight with unspoken tension as he stared long after the emperor had vanished. Not from fear of enemies, but from the shadow of what his sovereign might uncover beyond the borders of his own empire.

                                                                      ******************************

The wind shifted with each passing hour hot and dry beneath the noon sun, sharp and biting when night settled in but Dracye rode without pause. His long black hair, tied in the fashion of Elarion merchants, streamed behind him like a dark banner.

Dust clung to the hems of his shirt and boots, but even travel-worn, the disguise was impeccable. He wore the garments his spies had prepared after Thar, reluctant though he was about this reckless venture, sent word ahead by fast birds of his sovereign’s sudden journey. His shirt was loose, white linen open at the collar. Over it sat a fitted vest of deep brown, the kind favored by Elarion’s wealthy merchants. Two star-shaped clasps pinned it across his chest, it was modest enough to pass without question, yet rich enough to ensure no guard or gatekeeper would dare sneer.

It was why Darcye kept Thar close because even in disapproval, his old companion ensured everything was ready. That reliability, made him invaluable. A full night bled into day, and still he pressed onward, riding with the unyielding patience of a predator that knew its prey had nowhere to run.

And all the while, the same thought gnawed at him, louder than the hoofbeats carrying him forward.

Elarion. The name alone lingered in his mind like smoke, clinging and impossible to shake. Why did it call to him so insistently? What was it that stirred in his chest every time the word crossed his thoughts?

He could not name it. Perhaps it was a voice hidden in the air, a song woven too faint for mortal ears. Perhaps it was a scent unfamiliar, yet aching with a strange familiarity, as though he had known it all his life without ever breathing it in. Or perhaps it was deeper still, the soil itself, whispering in secret to his blood.

His horse moved tirelessly beneath him, hooves striking rhythm against earth and stone, carrying him through forests and across narrow bridges worn smooth by time. The skies shifted above clouds breaking, rains drifting like mist, sunlight spilling in cruel bursts yet Dracye rode on, scarcely aware of the changing hours.

The road was long, the sun cruel, the night endless, he thought, his gaze fixed ahead. But when you chase something worth owning… the cold doesn’t matter. Neither does sleep.

Elarion’s name echoed like a pulse in his blood, steady and demanding. I want to set my foot on that land… to feel the warmth of that untouched world. To bind its golden legend to Vortalis.

And when I do, the world will know, that kingdom, its glory, its beauty all of it will bear only one name. Mine.