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Prolur was sitting in a pew in the front row of the temple, staring at the altar in front of him. On it were the ritual relics used during the ceremonies—a sword made of silver and a crystal symbolizing their god. The temple itself was one of the largest of its kind Prolur had ever seen. It was built to seat a hundred people, with a thirty-foot-high arched ceiling decorated with elaborate paintings of various gods and a mosaic floor depicting a full-scaled Haugar stretching from the entrance to the altar. Adorning the walls were figures made from gold and silver, illustrating both mythological tales and historic occurrences. Standing behind the altar stood a full-sized statue of Haugar in all his glory, flanked by the creator god, Chacra, on his right and Destiana, the goddess of fate, on his left. Two pairs of candles, two by the altar and two by the entrance, dimly lit the room.
Prolur was lost in his own thoughts. The days had passed by quickly, and he had scarcely had time to realize that he was leaving. Now that the day of his departure had arrived, it had all caught up with him. Now that he was finally happy after so many years, he was forced to leave it all for what would most likely be his death. He had vowed to himself to stay alive at all costs. He was not the only one who was feeling the tension. The news had completely devastated Taura when he told her the following day. Just like Rauman, she was well aware that the king had figured this to be the final solution to the problem he thought that Prolur was. He had been visiting her almost every day, and her mood had changed from sadness to pure fury. She had tried to think of a way to keep her love from leaving. Her plan had been to flee the kingdom, to run far away, but this time Prolur had to be calm and sensible. Running away would only worsen the situation. Bounty hunters would forever hunt them, and that was not a life for Taura or Naed. Naed, his son. He had tried to spend as much time as possible with him. Prolur wanted to embrace and talk to him as a father, but it would not have been fair. How would he react if they told him that Prolur was his father, only to inform him that he had died a month later? So, they had decided against telling the child.
The remainder of the time Prolur had been packing his belongings, artifacts, and books that he would need. His week had also included instructing Rauman, who was to take over his duties. The young monk was as devastated as Taura at Prolur’s departing and was having a hard time concentrating. The books, Prolur’s pet project, would be translated sometime in the future.
Prolur turned his head as soon as he heard the doors close behind him. Then, in the dim candlelight, he saw Taura walking down the aisle, coming towards him. Her pace was slow, her face frozen in a worried expression. She gently put her hand on his shoulder when she reached him and sat down. He moved over and grabbed her hand in return. She leaned over and kissed him tenderly on the cheek. Her lips were soft, and Prolur blushed ever so slightly at the touch. Since Taura had realized that fleeing was not an option, they had tried to make the best of their time together. The day before she had been unable to hide her feelings and it had all come out. She had completely broken down in front of him. He had tried to comfort her with words and kisses. Soon they became passionate, and their thoughts had ventured to that night long ago before Prolur disappeared from her life. Kisses turned to caresses slowly traveling under fabric. She invited him into her bedroom, where they for the second time they consumed each other completely. This time it felt less awkward because they knew what to do. It was right, and they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms just like they should have that first time. No one asked him where he had been the next morning when he returned to the monastery. Rauman had somehow managed to hide his friend’s absence.
“Are you afraid?” Taura asked him.
He turned to her. She had tears in her eyes, and in the candlelight, it looked like they sparkled. “No, not for myself,” he replied. “I fear I might never see you or Naed again, but I do not fear riding into the Eccliati region.”
“I guess I am afraid enough for the both of us.” Taura rested her head on his shoulder, and he embraced her. “I do not want to lose you again because if I do, I fear it will be forever.”
Prolur put her head in his hands and raised it so that he could look her straight in the eyes. Once again, he drowned in them. He would take the image with him on his journey, and it would warm him on the cold nights that the mountains would bring. “Taura,” he whispered. “I will return to you and Naed. I will not give in to whatever obstacles may come between us.”
“The worst part is that we do not know for how long you will be gone. It could be indefinitely.”
“It cannot be forever.” Prolur smiled. “I swear to you in the name of Haugar that I will return.”
She nodded at his words and his confidence and dried her eyes with a handkerchief. “I want you to keep this with you on your journey.” She handed it to him. The handkerchief was white with silver borders and a monogrammed gold bear head in one corner, representing Taura’s family.
“I will keep it close to my heart.” Prolur leaned towards her and gave her a kiss.
A knock on the temple door startled them both and abruptly they separated.
“Prolur.” The voice belonged to Elden. “It is time.” His voice was low and barely audible from behind the door.
Both Prolur and Taura rose, still holding each other's hands. “We say goodbye here and now,” Taura said. “We will not be able to show affection once we are outside.”
“You will always be with me, Taura. Take care of yourself and Naed.”
“I will be careful, for I will be waiting for you.” They smiled at one another and kissed one last time.
The morning had offered nothing more than rain, and if you asked ones who knew, the big, heavy black clouds that lay like a thick blanket across the sky had more of it to give. There was no wind, causing the water to pour straight down on the party waiting in the courtyard of the monastery. When Prolur and Taura stepped out from the temple, they saw two wagons, horses, and soldiers standing in a row dressed in uniform tunics, black with silver trims, black pants, black leather boots, and thick, gray capes with the hoods pulled back. The soldiers stood to the left of the wagons, and to the right, stood Laster, Rauman, and Elden with their hoods pulled over their heads. In front of the wagons stood two additional figures. One was dressed like the soldiers and the other was Lord di Sauria in ceremonial garb. Unlike the soldiers, the hood of his purple cape was pulled over his head, covering his eyes. In the heavy rain, it hardly mattered what you wore. Anyone stepping out in it would get soaked in less than a minute.
Taura walked over to the monks who bowed to her, and Prolur went to greet his cousin. “Lord di Sauria,” he said as he pulled a hand through his wet hair in an attempt to get water out of his eyes. “It is indeed an honor to see you here.”
“I am sure it is, Prolur,” di Sauria replied. “I would like to introduce you to your traveling companion.” He turned to the man standing next to him who stepped closer. “This is Roe Stiller who recently was made captain.”
The young man bowed and smiled. He didn’t look to be a day over thirty, with blue eyes, a clean-shaven chin, and short blond hair. “Sir Prolur di Sangior, it is an honor,” Captain Roe remarked when he finally lifted his head.
“Please, Captain, that title is no longer mine.” Prolur caught himself sounding very frosty to the young captain and regretted it immediately.
“There will be enough time for the two of you to tell each other your life stories during your journey,” di Sauria interceded. “The sooner you begin the expedition, the more ground you might cover before nightfall.” Captain Roe nodded, as did Prolur. “Remember, dear cousin,” he continued, “the young captain here is in charge of the expedition, and you are to follow his lead at all times. Not until you reach the Eccliati Mountains are you to take control. Understood?” Prolur nodded again and glanced at the captain who looked as if he had never seen a battle in his life.
“Everything is in order, Father,” Captain Roe added and gently patted his shoulder.
“I would like to bid farewell to my friends if you do not mind?” he replied, and before Captain Roe could nod in agreement, he walked over to the monks. The three men bore sad looks on their faces, yet they forced their lips to smile through the wetness. Prolur stood still for a while and looked at his colleagues, who stared back at him in silence. It might be the last time they saw one another alive, but he tried not to think along those lines.
Elden stepped out of the line and pulled his hood back. His hair was already wet from the rain soaking through the fabric. “I wish you all the best, Prolur,” he said, solemnly putting his hands into his sleeves. “It will be very empty without you, even though the monastery is filled with young novices.” He smiled and stepped back, letting Laster approach as if they had planned the order of goodbyes in advance.
Laster didn’t remove his hood but stretched out his hand to shake Prolur’s. “Your calm and reason will be sorely missed, my friend,” he said. “I am afraid I will be the only one with any sense while you are away.” Prolur let out a laugh at Laster’s words, but the monk was serious.
Rauman moved past Laster and embraced Prolur with both arms. “Come back to us,” he whispered in his ear and then let go. “I promise to take care of your library.”
“I will come back, do not worry,” Prolur addressed them all with a smile. “You have all become very dear to me, and it would be a shame to waste such wonderful friendships by dying in the mountains.”
He felt a hand on his shoulder, and Captain Roe’s head appeared by his right ear. “We should be on our way, Sir Prolur,” the young man whispered.
Prolur shuddered at his once worldly name and nodded. He looked over at Taura and bowed deeply—having said their goodbyes earlier, they both tried to look unaffected by the situation, although Prolur noticed how she bit her lower lip in a desperate attempt to fight back the tears.
Before he could see any more, he turned around and followed Captain Roe, passing the soaked soldiers who were all staring at them, towards two horses. “This stallion is one of the best ones in our stables here in Saurania,” Roe said as he lay his hand on the back of a brown horse. “I thought it only fitting that a man like the great di Sangior should have a beast this magnificent.”
Prolur gave a nod and noticed that someone had already packed his bags and placed them on the animal’s back. He took hold of the horse’s mane and swung himself up in the saddle. The hard leather underneath him was uncomfortable and a sensation he had not felt in years. He had never been very good at riding and had always preferred the calmness of a slow and steady workhorse than a young sprinter like the one currently under him. Captain Roe swung himself onto his horse, a young black mare covered in a black and silver caparison. On its side hung a sword and on its back a traveling bag.
Lord di Sauria came to stand in front of them and then raised his hand. At once, the soldiers behind them mounted their horses. “May Haugar and Destiana be with you on your journey, Cousin,” he said. “We will be awaiting your return.”
“After you, sire,” Captain Roe said, turning to Prolur.
Prolur turned in his saddle to rest his eyes upon the monastery and its inhabitants one last time. The three monks remained as still as statues, their hands tucked into their sleeves and hoods pulled over their heads. Prolur could feel their eyes fixed on him. Taura was no longer among them. In the distance, he could see her carriage and that its door was open, yet the rain made it impossible to tell if there was anyone inside. Prolur turned forward again, dug his heels into the sides of his horse, and rode off. Behind him, he heard Captain Roe and his soldiers do the same. The journey and its outcome were as unsteady as the morning weather.
Sir Mieden di Sauria, Lord of Saurania, watched his cousin and the soldiers vanish in the distance and grinned. He knew that it might be the last time he saw any of them alive. In fact, he was counting on it.