The road northwest was older than the city itself.

  Rena could tell by the way the stones were worn smooth, their edges rounded by centuries of weather and traffic. In places, the original paving had cracked and broken, revealing packed earth beneath. Wildflowers grew through the gaps—small purple blooms that Flick identified as starwort, a plant that thrived on residual magical energy.

  "The old Grandmasters used to travel this route," Flick explained, perched on Rena's shoulder in hummingbird form. The sprite had discovered they could shift size and shape within certain limits, and apparently found the tiny bird body more comfortable for long journeys. "Their magic seeped into the ground. That's why everything here grows a little brighter, lives a little longer."

  Rena glanced at Lyris, who walked a few paces ahead, constantly scanning their surroundings. The princess—still weird to think of her that way—moved with the easy confidence of someone who'd traveled dangerous roads before. Her sword hung ready at her hip, and she'd changed from merchant gray to practical traveling leathers that looked broken in and comfortable.

  "How far to the forest?" Rena asked.

  "At this pace, three days. Maybe two and a half if we push." Lyris pointed to distant peaks barely visible through morning haze. "Silverglade sits in the valley between those mountains. The Whispering Range, they're called. Named for the wind that moves through those peaks—sounds like voices if you listen right."

  "Or wrong," Flick added cheerfully. "Legend says some of those voices are actually ghosts of travelers who got lost in the passes. Very chatty ghosts, apparently."

  "You're not helping," Rena said.

  "I'm never helping. I'm providing color commentary on our imminent doom."

  Despite the sprite's morbid humor, Rena felt surprisingly good. Her legs ached from walking—she was used to standing all day in the Archive, not hiking cross-country—but there was something freeing about the open road. The weight of the Codex in her satchel felt less like a burden and more like possibility.

  They'd been walking for three hours when Lyris suddenly stopped, one hand raised in warning.

  Rena froze. "What is it?"

  "Riders. Behind us. Moving fast." Lyris's eyes narrowed, focusing on something Rena couldn't yet see. "Four horses. Maybe five. They're pushing hard."

  I can scout ahead, Flick offered. Well, behind. You know what I mean.

  "Do it. But don't let them see you."

  The sprite launched from Rena's shoulder, shifting to a dragonfly—less conspicuous—and zipped back along the road. Rena strained her ears but heard nothing over her own pulse hammering.

  Thirty seconds later, Flick returned, resuming hummingbird form. Five riders. Professional gear. One of them matches the description of that mercenary woman from last night. They're tracking us.

  "Vex's people," Lyris said flatly. "She's not wasting time."

  "Can we outrun them?"

  "On foot? Not a chance. Horses can cover three times our distance before needing rest." Lyris scanned the landscape. Rolling hills on both sides, dotted with scrub brush and the occasional tree. Not great for hiding. "We need to get off the road. Now."

  She led them east, away from the main path and into rougher terrain. The ground sloped upward, forcing them to scramble over rocky outcroppings and push through thorny bushes that grabbed at their clothes. Rena's breath came in gasps, her pack suddenly feeling twice as heavy.

  "There," Lyris pointed to a cluster of large boulders ahead, partially hidden by overgrown vines. "Natural shelter. We can wait them out."

  They reached the rocks just as distant hoofbeats became audible. Lyris pulled Rena into a gap between two massive stones, then carefully arranged fallen branches to obscure the entrance. The space was cramped, forcing them to sit practically shoulder-to-shoulder, but at least it was hidden.

  "Don't move," Lyris whispered. "Don't even breathe loud."

  The hoofbeats grew closer. Closer. Rena pressed against the cold stone, willing herself to be invisible. Through a gap in the branches, she caught glimpses of the riders as they passed—five figures in dark leather, weapons visible, moving with military precision.

  The mercenary woman from last night led them, her arm in a sling from Lyris's strike but her posture still alert. She raised a hand, and the group slowed.

  "Lost the trail," one of the men said, frustrated. "They must've left the road."

  "Circle back," the woman ordered. "Check for tracks. They're on foot—they can't have gone far."

  Rena's heart sank. They were going to search. And if they searched thoroughly—

  A hand touched hers. Lyris, giving her fingers a quick, reassuring squeeze. The princess leaned close, her breath warm against Rena's ear. "I've got this. Trust me."

  Before Rena could ask what she meant, Lyris closed her eyes and began to whisper something under her breath. Not words exactly—more like a rhythmic breathing pattern. The air around them seemed to thicken, taking on a subtle shimmer.

  She's bending light, Flick explained silently. Creating a refraction field. Anyone looking directly at our hiding spot will see... basically nothing. Empty rocks.

  Advanced light-weaving. The kind that took years to master. Rena watched in fascination as the shimmer spread, enveloping their entire hiding spot in a bubble of distorted perception.

  The mercenaries rode past their location three times. Came within ten feet once. But their eyes slid right past the boulder cluster, never quite focusing, always finding something else more interesting to look at.

  After twenty agonizing minutes, the woman called off the search. "They must've had a faster route planned. Probably cut through the hills. We'll catch them at the next waypoint."

  The group rode off, hoofbeats fading into distance.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Lyris maintained the refraction field for another five minutes, then released it with a long exhale. The shimmer dissipated, and suddenly Rena could breathe again.

  "That was incredible," she said. "I didn't know light-weaving could do that."

  "Royal education includes advanced techniques most people never learn." Lyris stretched, working out a cramp. "My tutors were... thorough. Possibly excessive. But useful."

  "You keep surprising me."

  "Wait until you see my party tricks." Lyris grinned, but it faded quickly. "We can't stay on the main road. Vex will have people watching every major route. We need to go cross-country."

  "Will that slow us down?"

  "Significantly. But being slow and alive beats being fast and captured." She pulled out one of her maps, traced a route with her finger. "There's an old trade path through the Thornback Hills. Mostly abandoned now because of rockslides, but it'll get us to Silverglade without using the main road."

  "How do you know about abandoned trade paths?"

  Lyris looked uncomfortable. "Before I ran away, I... may have spent a lot of time studying escape routes. Just in case."

  "You planned this. Leaving the palace."

  "For two years." The admission came quietly. "My father wanted me to be the perfect princess—diplomatic, decorative, useful for forming alliances. But I kept having these visions. Nightmares, really. Darkness spreading. Cities falling. The seals breaking. And when I tried to tell him, tried to warn the Council..." She shook her head. "They thought I was having anxiety about the wedding. Prescribed me calming teas and suggested I spend more time with my ladies-in-waiting."

  Rena heard the frustration, the hurt. "So you left."

  "I couldn't just sit in that palace, planning flower arrangements while the world ended. I had to do something." Lyris met her eyes. "Even if that something was abandoning my responsibilities, disappointing my father, and basically throwing away everything I was raised to be."

  "You didn't throw it away," Rena said firmly. "You redirected it. You're still trying to save your kingdom. Just... differently than expected."

  Something in Lyris's expression softened. "Thanks. I needed to hear that."

  This is very sweet and all, Flick interrupted, but we should probably keep moving before the murder-horses come back.

  "The sprite has a point," Lyris said, standing and offering Rena a hand up. "Come on. The Thornback path starts about two miles east."

  ---

  They walked until sunset painted the sky in shades of amber and rose. The Thornback Hills lived up to their name—jagged peaks covered in thorny scrub that seemed designed specifically to snag clothing and scratch exposed skin. But the path, while rough, was passable.

  As darkness gathered, Lyris called a halt near a small spring that bubbled from between rocks. "We'll camp here tonight. There's water, some cover from the wind, and the high ground means we'll see anyone approaching."

  Camp turned out to be a generous term. They had bedrolls, basic supplies from Corvain's pack, and Flick for light. Rena gathered dry wood while Lyris set up a small fire pit, carefully positioned so the flames wouldn't be visible from the main road below.

  Dinner was travel bread, dried fruit, and something Lyris called "field rations" that tasted like compressed disappointment with a hint of nutritional completeness.

  "This is awful," Rena said, forcing down another bite.

  "You get used to it. Eventually your taste buds just give up and accept their fate." Lyris took a swig from her water flask. "I've got better supplies in my emergency cache, but we need to ration. Unknown how long this journey will actually take."

  They ate in companionable silence, watching stars emerge in the darkening sky. This far from Solmere's lux-crystals, the night was genuinely dark—and the stars were breathtaking. Thousands of them, more than Rena had ever seen, scattered across the void like diamond dust.

  "I used to watch the stars from my tower," Lyris said quietly. "Before everything got complicated. There was this alcove where I could sit and just... disappear for a while. Nobody looking for me, nobody needing me to be anything except myself."

  "What changed?"

  "I turned eighteen. Suddenly I wasn't the king's daughter anymore—I was a political asset. Every conversation became about strategic marriages, territorial alliances, bloodline considerations." She grimaced. "My mother tried to shield me from the worst of it, but she died when I was fifteen. After that, my father buried himself in governance and I became just another piece on his diplomatic board."

  "I'm sorry. About your mother."

  "She would've believed me. About the visions." Lyris's voice was soft. "She had them too. Kept journals full of warnings and prophecies that my father dismissed as anxiety dreams. After she died, I read them all. Found entries from years ago describing exactly what I was seeing—the seals weakening, the Void pressing against its bonds. She tried to warn him. Just like I did."

  Rena reached out, placed a hand on Lyris's arm. "We're going to fix this. The Codex, the fragments, whatever it takes. We'll prove you both right."

  Lyris smiled, sad but genuine. "You barely know me and you're already making promises like that?"

  "You fought three mercenaries to protect me. Shared your biggest secrets. Taught me your secret light-bending trick was cool." Rena grinned. "Plus, we're bonded by shared trauma now. That's basically friendship on speed-run mode."

  That got a real laugh. "Friendship speed-run. I like that." Lyris stood, stretched. "I'll take first watch. Get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be harder—the path gets rougher as we climb."

  Rena wanted to protest, to insist on sharing watch duties, but exhaustion was already pulling at her. She settled into her bedroll, using her pack as a pillow, and closed her eyes.

  She's good people, Flick said quietly, settling onto a nearby rock in firefly form. I approve of this alliance.

  "Me too," Rena murmured. "Me too."

  Sleep claimed her quickly, pulling her down into dreams of starlight and ancient forests, of books that spoke in riddles and shadows that moved with purpose.

  And somewhere in those dreams, a voice—not Flick's, not Lyris's, but something older and stranger—whispered a warning:

  The Seekers gather. The fragments call. But darkness wakes where light has fallen.

  ---

  Rena woke to predawn gray and the smell of brewing tea.

  Lyris crouched by the fire, carefully pouring hot water over dried leaves in a battered metal cup. She looked tired but alert, her hair slightly mussed from the night watch.

  "Morning," she said, offering Rena the first cup. "We've got maybe an hour before full sunrise. Should get moving soon."

  "Did anything happen during the night?"

  "Couple of wild animals—deer, mostly. Nothing dangerous." Lyris began efficiently packing their camp. "But I saw signal fires in the distance. Vex's people, probably, maintaining communication across the region. She's coordinating a search grid."

  "How long before they find us?"

  "Depends on how thorough they are and how lucky we get. Could be days. Could be hours." Lyris shouldered her pack. "Which is why we need to reach Silverglade as fast as possible. Once we're in the forest, we'll be harder to track."

  They set off as the sun crested the eastern peaks, turning the hills into a landscape of long shadows and golden light. The path climbed steadily, forcing them to scramble over loose scree and navigate narrow ledges that dropped away to nothing.

  Around midday, they crested a ridge and got their first clear view of what lay ahead.

  The Whispering Range rose like a wall of stone and snow, peaks stabbing into a blue sky scattered with white clouds. And there, nestled in the valley between two mountains, was a darkness that seemed to drink in light rather than reflect it.

  Silverglade Forest.

  Even from this distance, Rena could feel something emanating from it. Not quite sound, not quite sensation—more like a pressure against her awareness, as if the forest itself was watching them approach.

  That's... ominous, Flick said, shifting nervously on Rena's shoulder. Ancient forests that watch you are rarely friendly.

  "The forest is protected," Lyris said, studying the distant tree line. "Legend says it's been aware since the old times, when the first Grandmasters walked these lands. It doesn't welcome outsiders."

  "How do we get it to welcome us?"

  "We ask nicely. And hope it doesn't decide to kill us for trespassing."

  "That's your plan? Ask nicely?"

  Lyris grinned. "You have a better one?"

  Rena looked at the Codex in her satchel, at the forest waiting below, at the companion who'd become a friend in the span of two days. She thought about Corvain, safely back in Solmere. About her old life, cataloguing crystals and dreaming of adventure.

  And she thought about the choice she'd made—to walk this path, to seek these fragments, to try to save a world that didn't even know it needed saving.

  "No," she said finally. "Asking nicely sounds perfect."

  Together, they began the descent toward Silverglade Forest.

  Toward answers. Toward danger. Toward the first real test of what they'd become.

  And somewhere in the shadows between trees, something ancient stirred.

  The forest had been waiting.

  Now it would see if they were worthy.

  ---