Golden fields spread as far as the eye could see. Within these fields groups of men were lined up and cut through the golden sea with their long scythes, only to be followed by women and children who tied the wheat into sheaves to dry.

It was a peaceful display of cooperation, where everyone banded together under the sun reaping what they sowed for the half-year. To these villagers this would be their much-needed supplies for the long winter, least they should face starvation.

The road up ahead started to curve, only to split into smaller directions. The narrow turn revealed a large chestnut tree situated atop a molehill. At its feet, a wooden pew with a narrow roof and a well were built to provide respite to the travellers.

Coincidentally, the carriage wheel had stumped over a larger rock shaking the entire space. Miraculously, Ona’s raucous snore also came to an end.

“T-th-these lackeys. They don’t know how to pull the horses properly!”

“Ona your manners! These are not your lackeys, they were hired by us, remember?”

“So…what’s exactly the difference? Anyways is there a reason as to why we stopped?”

The truth was that I was as lost as she was, but it didn’t bother me. The place looked welcoming, ideal for a break. Although the carriage was designed to be comfortable, it had been a day since our journey began and we were scheduled to arrive at the first inn tomorrow.

Heavy boots were heard clanking against the solid surface and soon enough the door was pulled open bringing Irae’s face into sight.

“Your highness, one of the horses appears to be injured.”

Stupefied by the situation I had no choice but to concede defeat. Dropping off from the carriage I was greeted by the burning afternoon sun.

Given the size of our party, the entire road was blocked. Fortunately for us, it appeared as a very quiet day.

Following behind Irae, we made our way to the first carriage, there Ralph and his aide – whose name escaped me - were tending to the horse.

“A sprained ankle, boss. It is most likely due to the horseshoes being poorly made. Give it a day or two and should be fine.”

“Never imagined you knew how to tend to the horses, Ralph.”

“It ain’t me, boss. It’s this lad – he’s got a talent I suppose, goes all funny and can understand animals, or at least he claims to.”

Ralph spat on the ground and turned to the young bloke behind him. He was donned in a light outfit, with no signs of combat equipment at all. Ralph’s towering body made him look like an underage child.

“Come on, greet your lord. Too much talking made you forget how to speak to humans?”

The lad sheepishly turned and greeted in the crudest way.

“M’lord, t-the name is R-Randy.”

It appeared that was as much as the lad could speak before he hid behind Ralph’s back.

“Ey, don’t mind him, boss. He’s a shy one. You see, his mother got cut clean by one of the local nobles when he was a youngin, so now he is terrified of the lot. But hey, can you blame him?”

The realisation shocked me and couldn’t help but shake my head.

“I beg your pardon, what? The noble did what?”

“It’s a sad story, boss.”

“Cut, cut. Nobody cares, can we get the carriage moving? We have a schedule to meet to.”

Ona’s interjection was rather rude, but her complexion seemed annoyed. The bumpy road did her no favour after all.

“Ahem, the horse can’t walk for more than an hour. If I recall the next in should be about a day’s travel away, right?”

It was then when a haggard voice grabbed our attention.

“Belua’s farm, he’s got horses.”

Turning towards the voice revealed an old man sitting by the pew smoking his pipe. He wore lose clothes – or rags to be more precise – and a straw hat which covered his tangled hair allowing for more emphasis on his white beard.

Walking over to his side, I raised my hand in a salute.

“Good day, sir. If may I ask, who’s Belua?”

Releasing smoke, the old man was seemed unbothered to repeat himself.

“Not who, but where. Belua’s farm. It’s about an hour to the north. Cross the prairie and you will come across a pumpkin farm. That’s Belua. He should have horses for sale.”

“I see. Thank you for your assistance. What is your name?”

The old man seemed uninterested in continuing the conversation. His head turned towards the blue sky.

Upon return, I saw Irae had made arrangements already.

“To the pumpkin farm, then?”

“Well, Ygrit and Rowan are not of use, so they better stay. Myself, Irae, Ona, Sol and Erin.”

Irae had no issues with the arrangement and tasked the guards to work alongside the Crooked Tooth company to set up a camp.

“You know how to ride a horse, your highness? I am impressed.”

“Very amusing, Ona. Yes, I do. In fact, I used to be top of the class for my cohort.”

One of the guards, Timothy then approached and handed over his warhorse, it was a head taller than me and without a doubt could easily crush me. I gulped at the mere sight of this beast.

In one swift motion, Timothy dismounted. It turned out he was a head taller than me as well. Sharp eyes, a sharp jaw, and a wide scar across his face. He looked intimidating, to say the least.

“Take good care of Eloise, your highness.”

With a forced smile, he handed over the reins. Eloise seemed a little nervous parting way with her companion, but a slow pet from Timothy seemed to ease her tension.

Placing my left foot on the strip and then holding tight from the saddle, I pulled up and in one elegant motion, I found myself atop Eloise. She shook, but Timothy yet again calmed her down.

“See, I told you I was good at it.”

“Very good, your highness. Be mindful as she does throw a tantrum sometimes. Here, this pouch contains few bits of cantaloupes. Should do the trick if she’s too feisty.”

“Right, I see. Thank you, Timothy. Is everyone else ready?”

“It took you more than ten minutes to mount up, of course, we are ready.”

“No way. It didn’t.”

Leaving the band to deal with camping, Irae led the way north as indicated by the old man. Traversing past the golden fields the landscape began to change.

Smaller patches of land with various vegetables segregated by either stone or wooden fences. Scarecrows were installed to keep birds at bay, they all had in common the shared characteristic of a pumpkin head.

“Isn’t that a little creepy for a scarecrow? Plus, wouldn’t pumpkins just rot?”

“Well, a scarecrow is supposed to scare you, right?”

“It’s doing great work I tell you that.”

The smaller patches gave way to woodland until a thicker forest surrounded us. A large sign ‘Balua’s Farm’ indicated to keep our path.

“At least we will be reaching soon. How’s everyone doing?”

Sol and Erin were not particularly talkative. In fact, they never even introduced themselves, they just kept quiet. If it wasn’t for Ralph, I would have serious concerns. Nonetheless, they were important – at least according to Ralph.

Sol was classed as a druid and Erin was a ranger. Of course, what that meant was that they both had an awareness of their surrounding which I lacked. As far as magic is concerned, their arsenal was most likely limited to potions and alchemy – after all magic was forbidden as an aftermath of the great war.

As we strode along, the forest opened up once more to reveal a wide field of pumpkins, separated by one main road. Just like before, people were seen tending to the pumpkins, loading them in carts and most likely preparing them for transportation to the markets. They turned in curiosity, only to then return to their work.

At the very end of the path, a brick wall with an arched pathway revealed a large fountain in the middle and a series of wooden structures with thatched roofs spread around the compound.

Passing through the archway, the barks of angered guard dogs greeted us, and soon enough their respective owners appeared. Two bulky figures dressed in white tattered clothes and brow pants; their straw hats were crudely made but served their purpose.

“Greetings, I am the Royal Procurator Fiscal and are on a duty on behalf of the King. We require your assistance as one of our horses has been injured, and therefore we need a replacement.”

The duo stared at us, their crooked noses and round eyes shifted between one another. The man on the left released a snort, whilst the man on the right tapped his shoulder to stop.

“Procura what? Apologies your royal highness. Around here we don’t keep up with your lot. We got work to do, fields to tend. Say, how much?”

He raised his palm and rubbed his three fingers in a motion indicating he wants money.

“Gold, preferably. Oh, your royal highness.”

Followed this he did a satirical bow, and his straw hat fell off to the ground revealing a bald head.

Ona’s face was mortified and could see her nerves were being pricked terribly given how tightly she was twisting those reigns. On the other hand, Irae and the rest remained unmoved by the apparent taunt.

“Pricing wise, a horse should cost at most than a silver pentari and couple of copper banuti. Are you trying to take advantage of the crown?”

Irae’s horse then moved beside me, her suit of armour, a mixture of black and red made her look intimidating.

“No, no. We would never think of that. However, the real world works like this. You need something, you have to pay for it. One gold dekari and the horse is yours.”

The situation was getting a little frustrating, making me feel the need to roll my eyes. However, I knew these people would not budge.

Seeing the commotion, people from around fields began gathering. Another man, roughly a head taller walked behind the duo and stood there, staring intensively.

“Ol’ Bal. Is erthin al’rit?”

“Yes, it's just, the King’s men, again. They want to rob us!”

The man shouted so that everyone around could hear. The people around started murmuring between one another until they began pointing fingers and hurling curses.

“The King’s men! Who’s King? Not our King!”

They proclaimed and shouted. The spectacle that was unfolding was baffling especially as the farm was only a day and a half distance from the capital.

It was a peculiar situation, especially as we were surrounded by peasants whose enmity for the crow was apparent, but also, we had two mercenaries who from conversation discovered their colleague hold grudges against the nobility.

“As a representative of the Crown, I demand you to disperse and return to your duties.”

At that point, laughter broke out, and the duo seemed specifically joyful.

“The Crown, ay? I didn’t choose you to be a representative, I never even chose to appoint the King himself. All you do in your palaces of gold is take advantage of us. You demand us to return to our duties! Ha!”

Another peasant interjected as he mimicked my words and strutted liked a peacock.

“I demand you do this, do that. Waving your stick as you please.”

Mockery was expected, but this was the downright refusal of the divine right of Kings. Irae’s face was unamused but there was a fit of certain anger growing in her eyes. Ona of course had a strange grimace that couldn’t hide her disgust.

“Silence, will you provide the horses or not?!”

Raising his hands, the bulky man succeeded in silencing the crowd. The man on the left stepped forth.

“I feel generous, ‘cause the Crown and all. Two gold coins. Special offer. Whaddayasay?”

Laughter resumed. The crowd surrounding us had nearly doubled. The people were carrying pitchforks, axes and other types of farming equipment. It made me feel uneasy. Left without any choice I motioned to Irae and had no choice but to withdraw.

“Very well, we shall conclude this here.”

“Course you would, Royalist scum! Get out of my lands.”

Turning the horse around, we galloped and made our way to the exit. It was at that point were stones came hurling at our direction. Luckily for us, none succeeded to hit us. I dared not peak back in fear one would land on my face.

Upon distancing ourselves from the farm we had the brief chance to review our situation.

Team morale was at an all-time low. A sombre mood rained upon us like a never-ending cloud. Ona was the first to break the silence.

“Well, that went great. Now what?”

Looking over to the rest of the team I noticed that the Crooked tooth members remained silent as if they were detached. Irae was quick to entertain Ona.

“They saw your face and decided to pick up a fight instead. After all, it’s true what they say - beauty kills.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that remark, it was a good hit against Ona. Definitely ten points for Irae.

“What are you laughing at four-eyed nerd? If it wasn’t for my intimidating gaze the strange brute would have torn, you in half.”

“Ha, as if they would dare to hurt a servant of the Crown.”

“Clearly being a servant of the Crown did not stop them from hurling rocks and dung at us. So much for name dropping, huh. Oh, look at me, I am the Procurator Fiscal, oh me. So big, I am a big boy.”

Ona’s imitation involved silly grimaces and hand gestures; it did embarrass me a little but had no choice to admit that name-dropping was a common weapon in my arsenal.

“Alright, alright. You win. Now stop behaving like an orangutan, will you? Irae, what do you make out of this situation? It has indeed been a while since I last left the capital, but on my last trip we didn’t have these issues at least.”

She remained quiet for a moment, in contrast, her horse neighed in agitation pacing back and forth.

“If we were to compare the current incident to the northern rebellions, then all I can say is that discontent is ripe. Think of it as a boiling pot, but for it to overflow it would require a cataclysmic event of sorts. We are at the heart of the kingdom, and aside from taxes, people should be content. Now, if they are not then the outlook is grim.”

Irae’s breakdown echoed my thoughts. The people in the capital were content, but clearly, there was more behind the curtains. Perhaps something was indeed brewing, and the apparent stability was ultimately an illusion.

The horses had grown agitated, and flocks of birds could be seen flying past us.

“There’s a lot of smoke up ahead, Kain.”

Peering over, it appeared to come from the direction we were heading.

“I would assume it’s the campsite that Ygrit should have set up.”

“That looks like a bonfire unless we are overthinking it.”

“How about we return, now!”

Interjecting, Irae simply suggested we make haste. The horses were forced into a gallop and our journey began once more.

It has been a series of misfortunate events one after the other, and the journey has just begun. What an absolute mess. I can’t help but feel paranoid over the Crooked Tooth members, the way Randy looked at me, there was hatred in his eyes. What if…?

I shook my head in an attempt to push the thoughts aside. There was no reason to overthink the situation, being paranoid could only make things worse and cloud the mind.

The smoke meanwhile intensified, and as we approached the molehill appeared before us, covered in flames with the chestnut tree lighting up the surroundings. Screams and shouts could be heard, a cacophony of noise.

In an instant, Irae’s sword materialised, darting ahead of us.

“Stay here, Kain. Ona, you have to protect him. Erin and Sol with me.”

I understood that in a fight I would only be a liability. The two did not respond but galloped ahead, in an attempt to catch up with Irae.

At that moment, a ragged figure appeared from the sides covered in blood.

“Randy!”

It was the first time I heard one of the people speak, Erin was the first to dismount and approach Randy in a hurry.

His figure was dishevelled, dirt and blood covering his head, a result of his injuries. A dagger was barely held in his left arm, and the buckler was hanging by its straps.

“What on earth happened, we were only gone for a moment. You’re hurt?”

Randy’s lips were shaking, but not a word came out.

“It will be okay, Sol will help you recover, it's okay. You are safe now.”

Erin held Randy in her embrace as she shouted to Sol to wake up from her daze.

“Sol! Wake up, what on earth are you doing-

To her shock, Erin’s words were cut short. She tried to speak, but nothing would come out.

“W-why?”

“Erin!”

At that point, I was shocked at what was unfolding. Ona grabbed the reins of my horse as she slowly backed up.

“Ambush!”

Ona shouted as she spotted armed individuals appearing from the sides. Sol had remained frozen in her place.

They carried pitchforks, axes, and all sorts of jagged tools. Their outfits were mismatched, some wearing gambesons, and others wearing plain tunics.

“Kain, we need to charge through. Sol, wake up!”

She shouted and smacked the reins. My horse darted through, even as the brigands rushed towards.

They hacked and slashed in an attempt to stop the horse but did not succeed. Ona was close behind, followed by Sol.

Whichever direction we headed they lied in ambush, the camp was overrun and there were no signs of Irae, the guards or even Ygrit and Rowan. Only the worse could be assumed.

We darted past the molehill and escaped for the direction we were supposed to head out. Retreating to the city was not an option as the road was blocked.

Left without choice we rode on, leaving behind a trail of smoke, and traversing deep into the woods. The twisted treeline provided some cover, but we knew we couldn’t stop. We had to reach the nearest outpost and make way for the citadel.

The situation was overwhelming, bizarre, and completely flabbergasting. Sol was lost in her own mind, and Ona seemed to have been injured as her leg was scraped. Hopefully nothing serious.

Why are they attacking us? Who are they, what do they want?

Questions overwhelmed my mind; I wasn’t able to say a word. The situation was surreal. This was meant to be a simple expedition, and for all I know everyone I brought along was almost dead. Why?

The evening sun was slowly fading away, making way for darkness. We had traversed considerable distance and decided we had to get some rest. Deep into the treeline we hid and covered our trails.

No campfire was lit that night, no words were mentioned. Darkness soon covered it all, in a slim hope that daybreak comes again.