In the soft blue light before dawn, Prince Sebastian stood once again outside of Prince Elyon's tent, shivering slightly in the chill. He had just thrown on whatever clothes were at hand, leaving his warmest riding jacket behind without really thinking about it. His hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, stray strands of blond curls clinging to his face in the early morning damp.

Just a few weeks before he would have felt hideously embarrassed to be seen in such an unkempt fashion, but at the current moment he couldn't seem to bring himself to care.

Sebastian was out here so early because he hadn't been able to sleep. How could he, when Anne and Corvina were missing? He had tossed and turned on his cot for hours, terrible visions of all the worst possibilities dancing in his head, before he had finally given up on getting any rest.

Sebastian loved Anne and Corvina. They were his family, both of them, and he just couldn't stand the thought that something truly awful might have happened to them.

And he had selfish reasons for being worried about them as well, although he was ashamed to admit that to himself. But he had no idea what he would do without them. After all, this whole thing was their plan. He was just doing what they told him to do, and after all this he would need them to tell him what to do next. He was too stupid to know what to do on his own.

He was probably also too stupid to be of much help to Elyon in tracking them down, and it would probably be difficult to persuade Elyon to bring him along on the search. But Sebastian couldn't stand to just sit here, not knowing what was happening, not doing anything. If there was even the smallest possibility that he could be of some use, then he would do whatever it took to convince Elyon to bring him along.

When Elyon finally emerged from his tent, perfectly well-groomed despite the early hour and the desperate situation, Sebastian prepared himself to make his argument.

But Elyon didn't question him. Elyon merely stared at him for a long moment, his dark blue eyes boring into Sebastian's own, his expression unreadable.

"You can borrow a horse," said Elyon, finally. "We'll be riding quickly. I know you're unused to the terrain, but try not to fall behind."

Sebastian nearly saluted, but decided at the last moment that that would be ridiculous. So he merely nodded and fell in behind Elyon as they walked briskly towards the stables.

They rode through the forest in silence, Elyon taking the lead, and as they rode Sebastian found himself growing less and less panicked.

Elyon's presence was calming. He projected a sort of quiet power and confidence around him. Anyone in Elyon's vicinity could have no doubt that he knew exactly what he was doing. And although he wasn't bulky by any means, Sebastian could tell by the way he carried himself that the elven prince was strong and muscular. He looked like he was as used to physical labor as he was to tactical planning. Sebastian couldn't help but stare at his sturdy back as they rode, thinking about how the elven prince appeared almost monumental, like a statue of a great hero of the past come to life.

Prince Elyon was everything a prince should be.

And yet, Sebastian was surprised to find that he didn't feel particularly ashamed or inadequate to be riding along behind Elyon. He just felt... grateful to have him nearby.

Sebastian didn't even feel his usual compulsion to chatter on about whatever he could to fill the awkward silence. Instead, he just enjoyed the sound of hooves falling, birds awakening, and leaves rustling all around them as the late morning sun lit their way; and he tried not to think too much about why they were on this journey, or what might wait for them at the end of the path.

It was Elyon who broke the silence, eventually, as they sat under a wide-trunked oak tree, taking a brief break to share a meal of stale bread and hard cheese.

"Your mother's death was meaningless, you know," said Elyon, his tone matter-of-fact. "That's what I was trying to tell you yesterday."

Sebastian swallowed hard to avoid choking and he felt the chunk of cheese going down his throat like a weight pulling down on his chest.

"But it also wasn't your fault," continued Elyon. "Not in any way. Your father bears the full weight of responsibility for her death. He chose to kill her. And he may have done so anyway, some other time, using some other excuse, regardless of your actions that day."

Sebastian had longed for someone to tell him his mother's death wasn't his fault, but for some reason instead of relief or comfort he felt anger flaring up within him, sudden rage burning at his temples like the edges of a headache.

Elyon made it all sound so damn easy and obvious, like all those sleepless nights he had spent torturing himself over the events of that day were meaningless. Like he had no real reason for feeling the way he felt. Like he should have, as a child, just shrugged off the death of his mother like it was no big deal because it clearly had nothing to do with him.

And how dare Elyon bring all this up right now, anyway? When he was just barely managing to feel okay again? When he had so many other more important things to worry about, if he was going to be worrying about anything?

Sebastian had spent so many years thinking about all this, right now he just wanted to think about literally anything else. But also, he didn't want to be told that, after all those years of obsessive thought, the real solution was so damn simple the whole time.

"So you're saying everything I've ever done or thought or felt has been completely pointless, is that it?" snapped Sebastian. "You're saying I've just been inflicting this pain on myself for years, for no reason, because I'm too stupid to realize I didn't personally murder my own mother?"

Elyon frowned, his brows furrowing slightly, and Sebastian suspected that he was starting to feel angry, too.

Good. Suddenly Elyon's steadiness was no longer comforting, but the most infuriating thing in the whole world.

"No, that's not what I'm trying to say at all," protested Elyon. "Your feelings are understandable, but—"

"I know my mother's death isn't my fault! Not really," said Sebastian. "I'm not smart, but I'm not that stupid. I know my father makes his own decisions. But I still feel like it was my fault. And what am I supposed to do, just not think about how things might have been different if I'd acted differently?"

"That's not— I don't mean—"

Sebastian ignored Elyon's attempts to interject, letting his fury drive him. "If some simple platitude could fix all this, could fix me, do you think I would still be this miserable all the time? How dare you—"

"Augh!" Elyon buried his face in his hands and let out a loud groan of frustration that took Sebastian by surprise. "Goddess' tits," Elyon said. "I don't know how I keep messing this up."

Hearing the normally straight-laced elven prince swear in such a crude way was enough to take the wind out of Sebastian's fury, his anger disappearing just as quickly as it arrived, leaving him feeling oddly hollow and just a bit dizzy. It was almost enough to make him burst out laughing, but Sebastian still couldn't quite manage a mood swing that intense, even around Elyon, who always seemed to send his feelings spinning in the strangest ways.

"I don't know how to make you understand me," groaned Elyon. He dropped his hands by his sides and leaned forward, staring Sebastian in the eye with a look that was almost pleading. "I'm not trying to call you stupid, or to say you're wrong for feeling the way you do. You have plenty of good reasons for feeling that way, and in your place I might feel similarly. But what I'm trying to say is that you don't have to be defined by the actions of your parents, or the things that have happened to you in the past, or even by your current position in life. You weren't wrong for dwelling on all this, but you don't have to dwell on it forever! You're allowed to move past this. You're allowed to make your own decisions, based on your own values. For example, you don't have to eat meat just because you're a prince and people offer it to you. But you also don't have to be a vegetarian just because of what happened to your mother. You can take your time thinking about it for yourself and decide for yourself what feels right for you."

Hearing all that while looking Elyon in the eye, their faces so close together, was just a little too much for Sebastian. He stood up, trying to put a little distance between them, and steadied himself against the wide trunk of the oak, feeling the rough bark against his soft palm. The sensation was calming.

Then, he did laugh. Just a little. Not at Elyon, but at himself.

"I'm no good at making my own decisions," Sebastian said.

"You just don't have any practice," countered Elyon. "You can learn the skill."

Sebastian laughed again. "I'm no good at learning, either. Ask any of my tutors. I'm completely useless at—"

"That's not true!" Elyon stood up as well, and suddenly their faces were far too close together again, only now Sebastian had to look up to meet Elyon's eyes.

"You're not useless, and you can learn whatever you want to learn," said Elyon, his voice low and steady. "No one is born knowing how to do everything. But you have more skills than you think, and the ones you don't have, you can gain through practice. It won't always be easy, but it is possible. Do you understand me?"

"Yes..." said Sebastian, slightly breathless. "I understand."

There was one skill Sebastian was absolutely certain he possessed. It was something he'd practiced a lot over the years, while trying to run away from all his more difficult feelings. And it was something he found himself really wanting to practice with Elyon right now...

Elyon finally seemed to notice how close they were standing together, looking into each other's eyes, and he took a step back, turning his face away. Sebastian could swear there was a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. Sebastian felt certain his own cheeks were rather pink as well.

Elyon cleared his throat. "We should get moving again. We'll reach Gronderwen within a few hours. When we arrive there, stay close and stay quiet. The elven city can be a dangerous place for outsiders. The palace doubly so. Just keep an eye out for any signs of the Saintess or Lady Corvina. You know them better than I do, so maybe you'll spot something I wouldn't notice on my own. And I'll handle my father."