Violant wasn’t one to delay matters for long. Just two days later she was already on her way to the dragon cemetery. What had taken her the longest, though, was taking care of her ongoing obligations after obtaining permission from her foster father Orderic to do as she wanted.

She also had to wait for Hanarr’s promised equipment but the dwarf smith had most of it already on stock and just needed to make the tool with which they would release the dragon stone from the skull of a dragon. The evening before the departure everything was ready then.

The young lady rode on Huwcyn as usual. This time around she was also accompanied by Hraban, the night-raven. The black bird repeatedly flew at her side or rested on her shoulder despite the shaking ride. Violant had decided to take him with her as a way of contact if something should go wrong. Visiting the dragon cemetery was not without dangers after all.

The only other travel companion was Eibhlin. The elf was even able to keep up with the ceffyl dwr’s highest speed. That was due to her own mount, a majestic white each-sith and as fiery a steed as every elven horse. It was an enigma where the magic tutor had taken this tall horse from. Likely she had it left somewhere back in the other march when she had first come to Avallach and had now taken the chance to retrieve it. The each-sith whose name was Cuilennain also was capable of talking but he only had a rudimental understanding of the human language, talking most of the time in the elven tongue instead.

It was quite obvious that the each-sith was infatuated with his rider to the point of obsession. There was no chance that this love would ever bear fruit. Violant could somehow understand though. Even her heart throbbed quite a bit when she witnessed the ethereal figure of Eibhlin riding at full speed, her long and silky blonde hair spreading behind her in the wind like a veil, a smile of pure joy on her incomparably beautiful face.

Owing to the fact that both women constantly travelled with a speed several times that of a normal horse without draining the stallions even the least bit, they reached the duchy of Ealdon, nowadays a royal governorship, in a matter of days where weeks would’ve been normal. The hilly duchy was widely covered with gentle slopes overgrown with green grass or with golden fields of wheat and oilseed rape instead. There also were some vineyards making use of the unusually temperate climate typical for the Northwestern coast of the kingdom of Yteland. The real cause appeared to lay in the heavy volcanic activity surrounding the dragon cemetery in the nearby other march, at least according to Eibhlin. That was the real reason behind humans worshipping dragons as harbingers of warmth and fertility in the olden times.

In the distance, the duchy capital Ealdon lay at the foot of the holy hill, the ealh-don. And what a hill it was! Although gently sloping like every other hill, it nonetheless towered majestically over hill and dale, awing like in the ancient times.

When Violant and Eibhlin reached the city gates of Ealdon, they were escorted by the guard captain himself and brought to the ducal castle. Whitehill Castle was very different from Avallach Castle. It was located on a hill with extensive gardens covering all of its slopes. The former ducal residence was characterized by an air of refinement rivalling even the capital.

The margravial young lady hadn’t believed her visit to Ealdon to be a big deal although she had announced it with a carrier pigeon. It had been a private letter to Parcie though, who had reported for duty as Prince Wynkin’s martial arts tutor at the start of the month.

Violant wasn’t greeted by the governor at all – her arrival hadn’t been of any big importance after all – but instead by her brother Parcie, his berserk student Wynkin, and another man she never would’ve expected to meet in Ealdon. The lanky black-haired figure clad in a flaxen monk-like cowl who had the need to wear the newly invented glasses – a pince-nez to be exact – in front of his blue eyes despite being in his early twenties at best and who emitted a scholarly air was none other than the second prince, Edric.

“Hey Vi, glad to see you!” Parcie hollered, a hand raised to greet her “Huw, Hrabby and Eily too, of course. And quite the gallant horse you have there, Eily. It’s an each-sith, isn’t it? Quite the surprise to see you this early though. You letter has reached me just a day ago. And when Wynny got wind of you coming he said we simply had to welcome you. And then Eddy joined us too. Eddy himself has arrived just a week ago or so. He reminds you somehow of good ol’ Mort, doesn’t he?”

The more Parcie spoke, the graver and paler his sister’s complexion became. It might be true that she was somewhat tomboyish but she had never even dreamed of referring casually to the royal princes like Parcie did. It wasn’t a matter brushing hard against the border of lèse majesté anymore; her musclehead of a cousin had long gone past it. Luckily nobody seemed to hold it against him though. Elsewise his head wouldn’t be on his shoulders anymore.

“Don’t worry, Lady Violant. Neither my elder brother nor I take offence at Parcie’s way of referring to us.” Prince Wynkin assured her, smiling as brightly and innocently as ever. He appeared to have grown again in both height and muscle mass. “He is too great a tutor to hold it against him. Under his tutelage even I, a total beginner in martial arts, am learning rapidly how to use a broadsword. Although I am still learning the basics of course. I am definitely happy about your visit, Lady Violant.”

“I don’t think we had the pleasure of meeting yet, Lady Violant of Avallach.” Prince Edric now joined the greetings “But judging from the respect you give me it appears that you already know of my identity. Please allow me nonetheless to introduce myself. I am Edric, second prince of Yteland. Oh, no need to bow down. Please be at ease. I don’t assign great value to the courtly decorum. But I must say, Lady Violant, your silver eyes are every bit as intriguing as Wynkin has told me. Now, this really arouses my scholarly curiosity. This unusual eye color is proof of your nonhuman heritage, isn’t it? Pray tell, Lady Violant, what kind of heritage is it? And is it true that your eyes enable you to use the sight? Is there any difference when entering the other march? Oh, where are my manners? Please excuse my overwhelming curiosity. You must be weary from your long travels. Allow me to arrange lodging and food for you, your companion and your steeds.”

“Much obliged, Your Royal Highness.” Violant replied “And to answer your questions. I don’t know what kind of nonhuman heritage I might have although there surely is. And yes, I am capable of using the sight but not as well as those possessing the even rarer golden eyes. My gratitude to you too, Your Highness Wynkin. I am quite delighted myself to be able to meet you again so soon.”

Then the travelers finally entered Whitehill Castle where they would rest for now, given the opportunity.

“So you are aiming for a dragon stone you hope to find in a dragon cemetery which happens to be located in the vicinity of Ealdon. Is that correct?” Prince Edric inquired. It was now dinner time and the princes had invited the visitors from Avallach to join them in the dining hall.

“Yes, indeed.” Violant affirmed.

“How fascinating!” the second prince exclaimed “I would love to accompany you to satisfy my curiosity but I believe a dragon cemetery to be a place too dangerous to treat upon for some inexperienced fellow like me. I nonetheless wish you the best of luck for your endeavor and hope that you might share your experiences and observations with me upon your return.”

“I’ll second that!” Wynkin declared “I am also very interested in how a dragon cemetery might look like. Please tell me later.”

“As you wish, Your Highnesses.” Violant consented.

Later that evening when everybody already had retired for the night, Prince Wynkin still was awake and shared his thoughts with the tiny fairy Dryp like he always used to do.

“That Violant of Avallach never fails to intrigue me, I must say.” he said with an evil smile that never failed to make Dryp’s flesh crawl when she saw it instead.

The berserk prince already lay in bed and had his head resting on his arm. It was still bright in his room though, for the light of a full moon filled the room with brightness. Because of that he had no problem seeing the little fairy sitting on his headboard with his now golden eyes.

“What is it this time?” Dryp inquired. Although the beauty clad in flower petals was visibly afraid of the human boy, she also was something like his secret best friend and conversation partner. Despite her fear of him she stayed at his side. It had been Wynkin after all who had personally nursed her back to health after a terrible rainstorm had destroyed her home hidden in the castle park.

“She comes all the way to Ealdon just for a half-mythical dragon stone. Hilarious, isn’t it?” the boy chuckled “She might do so for her upcoming debut but that isn’t something worth risking one’s life for, is it? Well, her visit still might be good luck for me. After I finally have managed to invite elder brother to take a look at grandpa’s library – what a godsend that grandpa also researched how to increase harvests – I have now found another point of interest we share to bring him closer to me. I have already convinced mother, Mabel, and Jocelyn to help me supporting brother Edric’s claim to the throne, although they might just think it is some childish sympathy for now. Not that elder brother would know of his luck yet though. Well, what follows is still a matter of the rather distant future. No need to worry about it yet. That means it’s time to sleep now. Good night, Dryp.”

“Good night, Prince Wynkin.” the fairy replied with a gentle smile and retired for the night. Soon afterwards both the boy and his supernatural companion lay in deep sleep.