The leaves crunching under his boots, the howling of the wind swerving through the dense trees were the only sounds he could hear aside from his own erratic heartbeat.

Silas didn’t know how long he has been running for, the moon had crept up into the skies though its lights barely passing through the branches above him.

It all happened so urgently, “It is time you kill him.” Was the last thing Silas heard from the throne room before packing only a bag of important things, climbing down his bedchamber’s window—good thing he had learned some parkour.

Arvos never liked him, yes, but to think he would plan his own son’s—step son’s assassination? He was only 23! He had knowledge of his father’s plans, to make sure his selfish ass would be the one ruling for as long his life lets him. And the only way that’d be possible was to wipe out any threats to the crown, and Silas being the Heir—it was no surprise he was first on the list. He had a feeling the kingdom would be in havoc currently, with the heir suddenly missing, the king ought to be worried for his beloved son.

And now here he was, miles away from the kingdom, trekking through the forest, known to be mystical and enchanted, though he never had a chance to explore this land, there’s a first to everything right? A wave of stifled anger rushed through him, his mind already making plans on his return, to overthrow Arvos and get the crown and to bring Justice to the land and its people once in for all. But the realisation finally crept in the moment the adrenaline rush slowly calmed down. He was no longer an Heir, no longer Silas Thorne, but just Silas with no royal title on his head.

Silas’ thoughts quickly dissipated the moment he heard the branch breaking within the depth of the bushes, his hand instinctively pulled out a dagger from under his cloak, senses heightening. “Reveal yourself!” He snarled, feeling the exhaustion finally creeping in, though he couldn’t lower his guard, not right now.