Chapter 2: The Hero

Stein's body jiggled from side to side on his saddle. His eyes locked onto the sky above. It was the early hours of the morning, the moon was making its exit, and gradually the clouds were painted in deep pink.

The wind blew on his face sending his hair flying. It blended so well with the aurora. From the lemon shaded tips, to the reddish terracotta colour, it would have been hard to believe him to be a slave. 

The majestic walls of the capital city of Sussex came into view. Its walls were surrounded by thick forests and several entrances. The column of soldiers bent right towards a downward slope that led to a different path.

Ahead of them was a huge tunnel entrance.

“Wow…it's huge.”

Andrew giggled, “you haven't seen anything, brother.”

Stein looked up, his mouth widened. The banners of the Kingdom flapped, on them two roses, one white and the other black.  

Stein blinked. 

So this is Brightham?

…

The soldiers on the wall cheered, their shouts followed by trumpets and after the trumpets, the sound of the opening of the gates.

CLANG THUD

The Tunnel was lit only by the lamps of the fore runners. The rest of it was nested in darkness. 

Stein's chest was wholly bandaged. He inhaled deeply. 

I am really alive.

He tapped it, and a sharp pang coursed through his bust. His vision swam, the grasp of what was before him began to fail him.

He blinked and from the darkest point of the porch, a cold breath blew on his face and what was like a black rose appeared in front of him.

He blinked again and it was gone.

“Uh? Did you guys see what I just saw?”

Andrew asked, “Saw what?”

His soldiers scattered to the edges searching out the walls. 

“Nothing here”

“Same over here…”

Another soldier remained silent until.

HISS

A skunk jumped on his helmet and ran away. 

Andrew raised a brow, “That's some level of sensing, Stein.”

Stein exhaled “Sorry my bad…”

The company advanced. Behind the riders the footsoldiers, and still far behind the wheelbarrows with the wounded and the loot.

Stein smiled.

We won, we really won.

But he then asked Rose who was just beside him.

“About the wall, why did we have to follow this route? Wouldn't a direct path towards the city be better?”

She shook her head, “this is the only entrance.”

The only one?

Andrew continued, ”The tunnel porch was built by the Karter family.”

Stein eyes squinted “I don't know who those are..,”

Rose said, “neither do we. But the wall you saw before was built around a decade ago. The tunnel is almost a thousand years old.”

Stein eyes widened.

What the heck?! No way.

The curvature did speak of elite craftsmanship. Greek, Roman or far eastern? Who was the Karter family?

That's insane.

“STEIN!”

Andrew shouted,

“Yes my prince,” he straightened up, “ouch!”

His chest burned.

“WE HAVE ARRIVED!!!!”

The gates of the city slowly creaked open. A ray of light spilled upon the company. Bit by bit their faces lit up. Even more lit up was the city of Brightham which erupted in celebrations.

Ribbons and petals thrown in the air. From the palisades women releasing their dovelets. They flapped their gracious wings, landing on the groves of vines and pines and Eglantines that decorated the lintels of the houses. The men that sat at the kiosks and the eldest stood and bowed at the passing of the company, and at the sides of the roads young boys racing the riders.

– HOORAY! –

– HOORAY!! – 

They shouted. A brother carried his little sister and raced beside Stein. The girl said.

“For you sir.”

Stein slowed his pace, he reached for the flower. Its petals were as fox’s fur and the colour of them as his hair. 

“Thank you….”

The boy dropped his sister and said, 

“Uhm…please I am searching for a master…please take this.”

The boy carried deep brown curly hair and extended a small coin pouch to him. Stein took it.

“I don't know what to say….thanks.”

“STEIN, PICK THE PACE!!”

Said a soldier.

Stein said to the boy, “I will get back to you.”

Upon hearing his name, the people of the city looked at each other, they pointed, one whispered to another. They looked up. From the balcony an old woman said,

“It's him, it's Stein! The slayer of Balltar!”

GASP

-A defeating sound erupted from the crowds-  they poured into the road in their hundreds, chasing after him. 

His horse reared back up, and his green earring caught a sunray. 

Some men that were part of Andrew's unit rushed to get him moving. They rode at twice the speed. Even the curly boy chased with his sister on his shoulders. 

Stein finally caught up with Andrew. 

“Stein, look how famous you've become,” he said.

Rose added “just don't let it get to your head.”

Stein smiled rubbing his chin, but his face looked up. Before them were the marble stairs, and above them two people. 

Stein said, “My king…and” who might she be?

Andrew dismounted swiftly.

“Father, what are you doing here…lady Cirrya you shouldn't have let him out.”

The old king hardly stood without her help, his lips were darkened and torn. But still he stretched his hand to hug his son. 

Stein observed the lady's chest; she was a fair lady, fairer than Rose, but his eyes stared at the black rose necklace on her rather pale skin. Her hair was white and curly at the tips. Her almond eyes stared at him. 

Cold air blew through him, and he savoured the metallic taste in his mouth. 

 Blood?

–FUZZ–

The crowd pressed on the few guards present, they shouted. The old king smiled. 

“VICTORY!!! BEHOLD MY SON, ANDREW!”

The crowd shouted one name.

“LONG LIVE STEIN!”

“LONG LIVE STEIN!!”

“LONG LIVE STEIN!!!”

The old king blinked hard, “what's the meaning of this?”

Stein sweated.

Why are they praising me?