<div style="text-align: justify;">During the whole episode, queen Seifr had not moved a single muscle in her face; not during the outrageously bold threats on her only son’s life, not during the prisoner’s apology. Fyr knew his mother well enough to know that that meant she hadn’t believed a word of either contained any measure of truth. Fyr himself only managed an expression of confusion and pity. Obviously, the prisoner was scared stiff of whatever was in the woods if he felt brazen enough to threaten a member of the royal family, not only to their face, but also in the presence of several very influential witnesses.<br/><br/>“I believe you,” he told Siravii with a gentle smile. He knew Seifr was, as she usually did when Fyr tried to behave in what he deemed a gracious manner befitting a kind ruler, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. “Let’s not go alone then. If your man,” he nodded slightly to Soma, “will accompany us, I believe I know of exactly the person who will complete this quartet. Mother, I wish for Atlas to accompany us to the Whitewood.”<br/><br/>An almost imperceptible cough escaped Tïris, but he otherwise made no indication that he had recognized the name at all. Queen Seifr just waved a pale hand dismissively.<br/><br/>“You know the soldiers better than I do, <span style="font-style: italic">min</span>. Take whomever you wish, but know that if you come to harm and they do not, I will naturally punish them most severely. Do pick one whose capabilities you are sufficiently confident in for a task such as this.”<br/><br/>She rose gracefully, rested her fingertips on top of the round table and beheld her visitors.<br/><br/>“I think we can conclude this meeting. It is awfully late, and I think that with Soma and my son, as well as the insider knowledge provided by your prisoner, the trip itself will be a trifle,” she said, as if they were hosting a picnic in the morning. With a final deafening whistle, the blue-robed servants, as well as a couple of menacing-looking, helmeted guards, came forth again, awaiting orders. “We are providing you all with suitable quarters. Rest easy tonight. I look forward to seeing you leave tomorrow.”<br/><br/>With that, she waved a hand at Siravii, whom the guards immediately approached, and he was firmly, though not violently, seized by each of his arms and marched off in the direction of the dungeons. A flash of pity hit Fyr - he would be invaluable on their quest tomorrow, but at the same time, he was a prisoner, and he understood why his mother didn’t feel inclined to let him sleep on their silk sheets. He bowed at the other three dark elves, gesturing them towards the beautiful double doors through which the queen had once again disappeared. <br/><br/>“This place can be a labyrinth for infrequent visitors,” he told them. “I’d follow the servants as quickly as possible, if I were you.” He waited politely until they had gone through them before he left for his own quarters. Now that nobody was looking at him anymore, a wide smile spread across his tired face. <span style="font-style: italic">A real adventure!</span><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">*~*~*~*</div><br/>A flat-chested, lean girl with gleaming chestnut hair and eyes were saddling horses in the courtyard very early the next morning as Fyr approached her. He greeted her with a warm smile and outstretched arms. She scowled at him.<br/><br/>“Lucky me, getting to go on your suicide mission,” she said. “Bet you’re all excited, right? Going into mysterious territory, hunting a wild killer-beast, along with the enemy. You know this stinks like ambush and not adventure, right?”<br/><br/>Fyr’s face dropped, though he wasn’t all that surprised to hear that tone from her.<br/><br/>“Don’t be so mean, Atlas,” he said flatly. “You’re with me because I trust you to be able to save my life, not act like my personal babysitter, and because,” he nudged her in the ribs with an elbow, grin back on his face, “I know you deep down would love to be the hero in a fairy tale, too.”<br/><br/>Atlas tightened the cinch on one dappled palomino horse with a snort. “That was a long time ago, <span style="font-style: italic">ven</span>,” she said, venom lacing her voice in spite of her kind name for him. Fyr gave up on her with a sigh and settled for scratching the horse between its ears instead. <br/><br/>“As long as you don’t kill me before the beast does,” he mumbled. Atlas didn’t respond, instead checking the packs on the horses containing rations, extra arrows, whetstones, and whatever else the queen had felt they might need.<br/><br/>“Sure don’t hope you take too long, there’s only enough here for about a week for four people,” she said indifferently. Fyr did not get to respond before the sound of footsteps made him turn, and he spotted the two dark elves - the former prisoner, again, followed by guards, but this time not led by them. Fyr gave them a cheerful two-finger salute - he was far too jittery with nerves and excitement to be more proper than that.<br/><br/>“Good morning,” he greeted them pleasantly, though the sun had barely risen. “You’ll find that Atlas has readied both horses and packs for you. Should you need other weapons or more arrows, the guards will be happy to accompany you to the armory before we leave.”<br/><br/>With that, he elegantly lifted himself onto his palomino and waited for the rest to get ready. The courtyard was tinted pink and gold with the sunrise. A gentle breeze toyed with his long, blond braid. Fyr took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure what awaited him, but he was determined to do his best - whatever that would turn out to mean.</div>