Jabin stretched on a pair of well-worn leather boots and patched leather pants. He pulled on a gray cloak and hood and tied a woven cloth belt around himself. He reached into the fireplace and rubbed the black ash on his hands. He ran his soot-coated hands through his hair repeatedly until he felt he had sufficiently coated his golden hair. He had to look Crull. He was one of the few in the whole kingdom with hair and skin so pale. A gift from his dead mother.

He listened to the door, soon the servants would fill the halls preparing all the nobles for their day. Food would be prepared and brought to rooms; dirty laundry carried away. The dog walkers would be dragged down the hall behind an entire pack of the king's enormous hunting hounds. Should he wait for the chaos of early morning and just slip out in their midst? No. Some foremen could mistake him for a servant and put him to a task thus ruining his secretive escape. He had to go out under the cover of night. He would go out into the Crull district and find the man. The man born on the same day as he, at the same hour. He would assess the threat firsthand. He would not cower on house arrest waiting for the man to allegedly come and kill him. He would meet his fate eye to eye, like a leader, a warrior.

Did he not treat all men Crull or noble with dignity and respect? Nabal would be shocked by the revelation for sure, but he would be grateful Jabin had warned him. He wondered if he should share the prophecy with Nabal and decided against it. It would only complicate things further. Besides, he hardly believed them himself. Even if it were true, he knew he couldn’t sit with his nose in scrolls looking for answers. He was a man of action. If he was written about in the stars, he wouldn’t waste his youth and strength waiting on some prophecy to come to fruition. He would seek out the resolution while he was yet strong and still had his wits. After all, any threat to him was a threat to his father’s kingdom, and his brother’s.

His father and brother did not understand how to deal with a predator. You do not wait for the predator to get hungry and prowl close enough to your home looking for its meal. You hunt the beast on its own territory while its belly is full, and its eyes are heavy. Jabin understood the ways of violence. He fought the most barbarous of men. Men that wouldn’t declare war with an announcement of a messenger or a written warning. They just break in and smash your head with a heavy hammer and let you figure out the meaning behind it later.

Jabin pulled his door open slightly and peered down the dimly lit hallway. A guard slept at his post thirty paces down the hall. Jabin clenched his teeth. It really irritated him when guards did not take their posts seriously. It did provide him the opportunity to escape though.

He slipped into the hallway silent in his leather boots. He slid along the wall until he came upon the guard. He carefully pulled the spear from its resting place on the guard's shoulder and hid it behind a long tapestry. It would startle the guard enough, searching for it upon waking, to keep him from falling asleep at his post for some time. Jabin cocked his head to the side noticing the guard's dagger on his hip. He grinned and lightly lifted the blade from its sheath and tucked it inside the bag he carried on his back. The guard continued to snore, and Jabin tiptoed on down the hall. That guard would have a rough morning. He would remember that night for years to come.

The halls were all cloaked in shadows. Cold drafts carried down the dimly lit corridors from seemingly nowhere. Jabin chose a secret hall hidden by a long tapestry. He would have to follow the secret passages by memory. He hadn’t taken them since he was a boy. He had to stop at each intersection and remember where each twist and turn lead. He did not want to wander into the one that went into his father's room. Or the assassin.

Few in the castle even knew of the assassin. In fact, the only way to the assassin's quarters was through secret passages. The assassin was awake this time of night, without doubt, mixing potions and poisons. She rarely slept at night. She would be up mumbling to herself as she fumbled around her messy room thumbing through scrolls and testing various mixtures. Jabin could almost smell the dank smell of burning chemicals coming from the passage to his left. He could hear voices as he passed through the passages.

One of the missed advantages of the hidden halls. You could listen to the plots of the nobles. That was not his task tonight though. He paused at the end of the hall. He could smell the fresh air coming from beyond the tapestry just ahead. He was mere feet from freedom. He listened intently for the guards that would be standing on the other side watching the exit of the castle. Would they be facing this way? If he moved the curtain and they saw it, he would not only be discovered so would the secret passages of the castle. One of the only secrets he had actually been able to keep since he was a boy.

He waited for what seemed to be an hour before he heard the bar being lifted from the doors. They were opening up the castle for the morning preparing for the early arrival of the servants. They would have their backs to him for a moment. He slipped out quickly and turned to still the sway of the heavy tapestry after he had passed through.

After a breath, he heard them set the heavy wooden beam against the wall and turned to face them. “Prince you are up early this morning. Didn’t even hear you walk up.” The older guard saluted as he spoke.

“Yes, I'm rather restless this morning. I need to go for a ride on Comet.” Jabin saluted back.

“When are you going to give me the chance to cross blades with you, Prince Jabin?” The younger guard asked his long black hair flowed from under his helmet and rested on his shoulders.

Jabin smiled at the guard. “Every guard is welcome to train with me in the broken meadow whenever he is off duty. Just meet us out there one day and I will gladly trade blows with you. Do you imagine having better luck than that of the other guards?”

“Aye Prince, my father trained in the far east. The men are smaller there and carry lighter blades. They fight in a swift fierce sword stance.” He pulled a sleek blade from his scabbard and presented it to the prince.

Jabin accepted the blade and looked it over. It was the sharpest blade he had ever seen. It had a handle not wrapped in leather but a fine thread. It was elegant with a red ribbon tied around the base of the hilt. The blade itself was half as narrow as Jabin’s and only sharpened on one edge. “Wow,” was all that Jabin could say. He almost decided to stay one more day just to duel with the young guard. “Your father gave you this blade?”

“He trained me with it too. Taught me sword stance of the Phoenix of Khitai.” The young guard took the sword back and fell into the initial stance with the blade raised above his head and one leg forward.

Jabin studied the stance and believed the young guard that it would be a swift stance. The Khitai was one of the only people his father had not been able to bring back to train him. They would not be persuaded to leave their lands for any amount of gold.

It made Jabin wonder what had occurred to bring the young soldier here. He had no time to dawdle though. He had to stifle his curiosity for now. Jabin had heard of their fierce battles as a boy and dreamed of traveling there one day to learn from their greatest sword Master. He bit his lip as he truly wanted to try the kid out. He had to take care of this matter of the Crull first. He sighed. “I will eagerly accept your challenge as soon as I have finished an errand, I have set my mind to do. It may take a few days. Keep your blade sharp. I will see you on the broken meadow soon.”

The young guard nodded and sheathed his sword. Jabin stepped past the guards and made his way toward the stables to saddle up Comet. He would have to address the matter of the Crull man quickly and set his father’s mind at ease. The fall rains would start soon and soon after that, the summer heat would bring the skirmishes and hopefully a good battle. Jabin longed for a good battle. One that brought out the best fighters of the seven kingdoms.

He made his way quickly into the darkness every moment afraid the alarm would sound. He had to get out before dawn. It was doubtless he would be discovered by then or rather the lack of his presence. This was far beyond any disobedience he had ever exhibited as a boy. He feared even thinking of the punishment of such an act. He froze and looked up at the stars. An uneasiness washed over him.

He passed through the garden by the tree his mother had planted. Yellow flowers bloomed in the branches. The only tree in all of Windal to bloom in the fall. It was a beautiful tree and the only place he felt close to the mother he never knew. He knelt under the tree for a moment and whispered a prayer for her help and guidance. He was never sure if she could actually hear him but felt an emptiness inside that longed for her. He always tried to imagine her voice and the feel of her soft hand on his face as he knelt under the tree. He sighed, he felt drawn to the tree. He longed to pull the light from the tree into himself. He shoved the feeling down.

His father would be belligerent if Jabin so much as scratched her tree. He still couldn’t resist wondering though. King Baron outlawed drawing light since Jabin was born. He blamed it for Jabina’s death. Jabin hated the law. He loved the invigorating feeling that swept through him when he drew in Life Light. It was as addictive as dueling to him. It was forbidden though so Jabin of course only did it secretly.

His stomach twisted in knots. Fear squeezed his insides. Something was wrong. He knew it in his gut. He narrowed his eyes and stood looking back up at the stars. He began to ponder if the Vaish were right. He felt again as if something watched him from the darkness of the forest. He shook the feeling like cold rain from his hair. He slipped into the stalls, saddled up Comet, and bounded off into the night.