Matthew Wild
Five Years Later
The world had changed, and so had I. Winston. That was the name I'd grown into over these last five years, a new identity forged in the fires of survival. Arney and I had built a life for ourselves, though it was a far cry from the one I'd once known.
Life now was anything but simple. Gone were the luxuries of palace lifeâthe soft silks, the lavish banquets, the security of knowing where my next meal would come from. Instead, we lived day to day, always on the move, always watching our backs. The palace had been a gilded cage, where every need was met, every danger kept at bay by walls of stone and armies of guards. Out here, there were no walls to protect us, only the rough edges of the world and the sharpness of our wits.
The kingdom of Valoria had grown stronger, seizing more land, and now, Kinsley was locked in a brutal war. The once peaceful fields and villages had become battlegrounds, and the lines between friend and foe were blurred.
My mind was always on Sebastian. Despite the years and the distance, I couldn't shake the thought of him. The prince, now likely burdened with the weight of the war, haunted my thoughts. I wondered if he was safe, if he still remembered me as fondly as I remembered him. The connection we'd shared, once so strong, now felt like a fragile thread stretched across a chasm of time and war.
Life wasn't easy, but it this was now home. We made a living working for Clive, the head of a crew that thrived in the chaos. Clive was tough, cunning, and always two steps ahead of the law. We ran jobs for him, stealing what we needed to survive, sometimes more if the reward was worth the risk. The world was hard, but we'd become harder.
"Got a new job for you two," Clive said, sliding a worn map across the table. "This one's big. Could change things for us if you pull it off."
I leaned over the map, tracing the lines and marks with my finger. It was a detailed layout of a fortressâno, a vault. "What's inside?"
Clive's eyes glinted. "Information. Something the Valorians don't want getting out. If we can get our hands on it, we'll have the upper hand. Maybe even sell it to the highest bidder."
Arney exchanged a glance with me, his usual grin tempered by the seriousness of the task ahead. "Sounds risky. What's the catch?"
Clive leaned back in his chair, his gaze piercing. "The place is heavily guarded. But there's a windowâduring the change of the guards, the security's a bit lax. That's your chance."
My heart pounded with a familiar mix of adrenaline and dread. Five years ago, I would've hesitated, but now, this was our reality. "We'll do it," I said, my voice steady.
Arney nodded, his grin returning. "Yeah, we're in. Just tell us when."
Clive smiled, a rare expression on his usually stoic face. "Good. You leave tonight. Be quick, be careful, and don't get caught. The fate of a lot of people might depend on what you find."
As Arney and I left the tavern, the weight of the mission settled on my shoulders. This was no ordinary jobâit could change everything. But as I glanced at Arney, his confident stride and easy smile, I felt a flicker of the old connection, the one that had kept us alive all these years.
"Ready to do this, Winston?" Arney asked, his tone light but his eyes serious.
I took a deep breath, nodding. "Let's go steal us a future."
...
We moved through the narrow, winding streets, the night air cool against our skin. The sounds of the tavern faded behind us as we approached the outskirts of town, where the shadows grew thicker, and the noise of the city was replaced by the distant echoes of soldiers preparing for war. The mission loomed ahead of us, the weight of its importance pressing down on my thoughts.
As we walked, Arney kept up a steady stream of chatter, his way of keeping the nerves at bay. "You ever wonder what it'd be like if things had gone differently?" he asked, his voice low enough not to carry.
"Every day," I replied, the truth slipping out before I could stop it. "But wondering doesn't change anything. We've made our choices. Now we live with them."
Arney gave a small, understanding nod. "Yeah, but still... it's crazy to think how far we've come. From that scared kid I pulled out of the dirt, covered in blood and all, to... well, whatever the hell we are now."
I couldn't help but chuckle, despite the tension. "Survivors. That's what we are."
Arney reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a small bundle wrapped in cloth. He tossed it over to me with a grin. "Here, Mum packed us some bread before we left. Figured we might need it."
I caught the bundle and unwrapped it, the smell of fresh bread filling the air. It was a simple gesture, but one that grounded me in the moment. "She always knows," I said, tearing off a piece and passing the rest back to Arney.
The road out of town was quiet, the occasional rustle of leaves or distant hoot of an owl the only sounds breaking the silence. We kept to the shadows, avoiding the patrols that had become more frequent since the war had escalated. The map Clive had given us was tucked safely in my jacket, the layout of the vault burned into my memory.
We reached the outskirts of the town and headed towards the forest where our horses were tethered, hidden in a small grove. Arney patted his horse's neck before swinging into the saddle. "You think Clive's right? That what we're after could really change things?"
I mounted my horse, feeling the familiar creak of the leather beneath me. "I don't know. But if Clive thinks it's worth the risk, it's probably something big."
The ride to the fortress was silent after that, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silver light over the landscape, guiding our way. The fortress came into view, a dark silhouette against the night sky. It was imposing, with high walls and watchtowers, but there was a vulnerability to itâthe change in guard was our chance.
We dismounted a safe distance away, tying the horses to a tree where they wouldn't be easily spotted. Arney handed me a small, wickedly sharp dagger, one of the many tools we'd come to rely on. "Just in case," he said with a wink, though there was no mistaking the seriousness in his eyes.
We approached the fortress carefully, sticking to the shadows as we made our way around to the less-guarded side. The change of the guard was coming up, and as Clive had said, there was a brief window where the security would be lax. We'd have to be fast.
"Ready?" Arney whispered, his eyes on the guards at the gate.
I nodded, feeling my heart hammering in my chest. This was itâthe moment we'd been preparing for. The change of the guard was coming up, and we knew we had only a few minutes to slip through unnoticed. We crept along the outer wall until we found the drainage tunnel, a narrow, grimy opening just above the waterline. The smell was awful, but it was our best shot.
Arney went first, sliding into the tunnel on his stomach and inching forward. I followed close behind, the cold, wet stone pressing against me as I crawled through the muck. The tunnel was tight, and the darkness was disorienting, but we pushed on, driven by the urgency of our mission.
As we neared the end of the tunnel, we could hear the distant murmur of guards talking, their voices echoing through the stone corridors above us. We paused, listening intently. The shift change was happening just overhead.
"We've got to time this perfectly," Arney muttered, his voice barely audible. He peered out of the tunnel's exit, which opened into a small, shadowed alcove at the base of the fortress. From there, a set of stairs led up to a side door that was used by the guards for quick access during their rounds.
As soon as the guards' voices began to fade, Arney gestured for me to follow. We slipped out of the tunnel and made our way up the stairs as quietly as possible. My pulse quickened as I heard footsteps approaching from the other direction.
"Quick," Arney hissed, his hand on the door. He pushed it open just enough for us to slip inside, and we ducked into the corridor as the footsteps grew louder.
Inside, the fortress was as formidable as it appeared from the outside. High ceilings, cold stone walls, and dimly lit passageways made the place feel like a labyrinth. But we moved with purpose, relying on the map burned into my memory to guide us to the vault. Every step we took echoed slightly, the sound magnified by the silence of the early hours.
Suddenly, a guard turned the corner ahead of us. Arney grabbed me, yanking me into a small alcove just in time. We pressed ourselves flat against the wall, barely breathing as the guard walked past, his eyes scanning the hallway but missing us by inches.
I could feel my heart pounding in my throat, but we waited, counting the seconds until the guard was out of sight. When the coast was clear, Arney flashed me a quick grin, his eyes alight with the thrill of the near miss.
"We're not done yet," I whispered, steadying myself.
Arney nodded, and we continued down the hallway, sticking close to the shadows. The vault was just ahead, hidden behind a false wall at the end of the corridor. This was our shot, and we couldn't afford any more mistakes.
The corridors were dimly lit, the sound of our footsteps barely a whisper on the cold stone floor. We encountered a few guards, but Arney took care of them with a swift, silent efficiency that reminded me why we'd survived so long. We reached the door to the vault, an imposing iron structure with a complex lock mechanism.
Arney knelt by the door, pulling out his lock-picking tools. "Keep watch," he whispered as he set to work.
I turned, my eyes scanning the corridor for any signs of movement. The minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. Finally, I heard the faint click of the lock, and the door creaked open.
The vault was a dimly lit chamber, its air heavy with the scent of old parchment and the metallic tang of locked chests. The stone walls were lined with shelves crammed full of scrolls, books, and ledgers, each meticulously organized and secured with metal bands. The center of the room held several wooden tables, cluttered with piles of documents, ink pots, and quills. In one corner, a large, ornate chest sat ominously, its lock gleaming in the low lightâa treasure trove of secrets waiting to be uncovered.
Arney and I moved swiftly, our eyes darting around the room as we scanned for anything that might be useful. I reached out and pulled a stack of papers from one of the shelves, quickly rifling through them. My heart raced as I came across a map, detailed and carefully marked with strategic points across Kinsley and Valoria. Red ink highlighted critical locationsâfortresses, supply routes, and villages that had been targets in the ongoing war.
Then I saw itâa letter sealed with the unmistakable crest of Valoria. The wax was a deep crimson, the mark of King Alden himself. I broke the seal with trembling hands, unfolding the letter carefully. My eyes widened as I read the contents:
"To His Majesty, King Eadric of Valoria,
In exchange for the immediate retreat of your forces from our lands, I, King Alden of Kinsley, hereby offer the outer territories, including the border villages and surrounding lands, as part of a peace settlement. These territories, though vital to our kingdom's defense, shall be ceded to Valoria under the condition that your armies withdraw and cease their encroachment. This concession is made in the interest of preserving what remains of our sovereignty, and to ensure the continuation of our people's lives amidst this relentless conflict.
This agreement is both a gesture of goodwill and a necessary sacrifice to prevent further bloodshed on both sides. However, know that this act is not without its costs to my honor and the trust of my subjects. I am acutely aware of the dishonor this may bring, yet the continued suffering of our people leaves me with no alternative but to act in the interests of their survival.
May this agreement pave the way for peace, or may it serve as a stark reminder of the desperation that drives men to betray their own land in pursuit of security.
Yours in reluctant diplomacy,
King Alden of Kinsley"
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My own kingdom was willing to sacrifice its people, its land, to appease Valoria. The betrayal was deeper than anything I could have imagined.
As I folded the letter back up, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the hallway outside. The door to the vault creaked open, and my breath caught in my throat. Arney, who had been searching through another pile of documents, froze as the silhouette of a man appeared in the doorway.
The figure stepped inside, and my blood ran cold. It was the King of Valoria himself, his presence unmistakable. He was tall, imposing, dressed in dark, regal attire that commanded authority. His sharp eyes scanned the room, and I knew we had only seconds before he noticed us.
"Winston!" Arney's voice was a harsh whisper, urgent and strained.
We had no time to think. I grabbed the letter and the map, shoving them into my tunic, and we scrambled towards a tall, ornate cupboard in the corner of the vault. The space inside was cramped but offered a sliver of hope. We slipped inside, closing the doors as silently as possible.
From our cramped hiding spot, I could barely see through the narrow slits between the cupboard doors. The king's footsteps grew louder as he entered the room, his presence imposing even from this hidden vantage point. I could make out his dark boots as he walked slowly around the vault, his gaze probing the scattered documents and open shelves.
My heart pounded in my ears, the fear of being discovered almost overwhelming. The confined space was stifling, but we had no choice. Arney and I exchanged a tense glance, our breaths coming in shallow, careful gasps.
The king stopped, his hand brushing against the edge of a table. He seemed deep in thought, his sharp eyes scrutinizing the disarray. I could hear his muttered words as he examined the papers, oblivious to the intruders concealed just inches away.
The king's voice grew louder as he spoke, his frustration evident. "Those dogs, think they can bargain with us?" He laughed coldly. "Show me this letter. Where is it?"
My heart raced as the king's demand echoed through the vault. I gripped the letter tightly in my hands, the weight of it suddenly feeling like a leaden burden. I could hear Arney's shallow breathing beside me, his tension palpable.
"It should be here, somewhere, sire," one of his guards answered, their footsteps growing closer to the cupboard.
The king continued to pace, his footsteps growing nearer to our hiding spot. "If I don't see it soon, there will be consequences," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Arney and I exchanged a glance, the urgency in his eyes mirroring my own fear. We had to remain perfectly still, our bodies pressed against the back of the cupboard, as the king's presence grew more intrusive.
"I'm not quite sure where it's gone" the guard called out.
The king's footsteps drew closer, each step echoing in the confined space of the cupboard. "I want this resolved now," he growled, his voice tinged with frustration. "If it's not here, then someone is going to pay."
The guard's voice, filled with nervousness, replied, "We're searching every inch of the vault, sire. But it's not here."
The king's irritation was palpable as he continued his search. "Then where could it have gone?" he demanded, his tone growing more menacing.
We could hear the clinking of metal and the rustling of papers as the guards moved around the room, their search growing more frantic. The cupboard we were hiding in was now under scrutiny, the guard's footsteps growing ever closer.
"Your Highness," another voice called out, sounding anxious and formal.
The king's footsteps halted, and the sound of his deep, frustrated sigh filled the room. "What is it now?" he demanded, clearly exasperated.
The new arrival, who sounded like an advisor from the urgency in his tone, replied, "You already know the contents of the letter. There's no need to search further. Just write a response."
As the advisor spoke, my mind raced. Lord Gregoryâhe was a well-known figure in Kinsley, an advisor whose influence extended far beyond courtly politics. His presence here, in Valoria, was both unexpected and alarming.
The king's voice took on a sharp edge. "And what do you suggest, Lord Gregory?"
Lord Gregory's response was calm, almost too calm given the situation. "You already know the contents of the letter. There's no need to search further. Just write a response."
The implications were staggering. If Lord Gregory was here, then Sebastian and the Kinsley court must be aware of the situation. But why was he involved in the Valorian court? Was he working as a spy, or had he been sent to negotiate on behalf of Kinsley? The thought sent a shiver down my spine.
Arney's grip tightened on my shoulder, sensing my unease. "What's wrong?"
"Lord Gregory," I whispered urgently. "He's the advisor for Kinsley. If he's here, then Sebastianâthe princeâmight know something about this. They must be aware of what's happening."
Arney's brows furrowed. "Or he's scheming and changed sides. If Gregory's here, it could mean he's working with Valoria now, playing both sides. Either way, it's not good."
The weight of Arney's words settled heavily between us. If Gregory had switched allegiances, the political landscape had shifted dramatically, and our mission might be part of a larger, more dangerous scheme.
We remained huddled in the cupboard, our breaths shallow and controlled. The conversation outside had shifted, with the king and Lord Gregory discussing details about the peace negotiations and the strategic importance of the territories in question. Their words painted a grim picture of the broader conflict, one that involved more treachery and double-dealing than we'd initially understood.
"Once we get out of here," Arney murmured, "we need to figure out what this means for us. If Gregory is working with Valoria, then our home is gone soon. We need to get back to Clive and see how we can use this to our advantage."
I nodded, my mind racing. "Agreed. But we have to be careful. If Gregory is a spy, he'll be watching for any signs of interference. We need to tread lightly."
Lord Gregory's voice cut through the tension, his words sharp and calculated. "Your Highness, agree to Kinsley's terms, then strike them when they are not aware of it. I say we go for the main city."
The king's response was a murmur of contemplation, his footsteps echoing as he paced. "And what if they discover our plans before we can act?"
"Then we adapt," Lord Gregory replied smoothly. "We already have the element of surprise on our side. Use it. The key is to create chaos where it will do the most damage, then seize control swiftly. The main city will be the crux of their defenses. If we take it, the rest will follow."
The strategic coldness in Lord Gregory's voice was chilling. It was clear that the stakes were higher than we had imagined, and the implications of their plan could have catastrophic consequences for Kinsley.
The king's voice grew fainter as he and Lord Gregory continued their discussion. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the footsteps of the guards and the king's entourage receded, and the vault fell silent.
Arney and I slowly emerged from the cupboard, our faces pale with the strain of our hiding. We exchanged a quick, determined glance. The mission wasn't over yet. We still had to get out of the fortress and deliver the crucial information to Clive.
With a final look at the vault's contents and the now-muted sounds of the fortress, we slipped out of our hiding place, ready to face whatever came next.