The hunting party rode out beneath a sky still washed in pale gold.
The air was crisp. The forest beyond Etherevalis shimmered in morning light.
Legos had planned this carefully.
It was meant to be controlled. Safe. Respectable.
Fowl hunts.
Light wyvern drakes that strayed too close to the Pixie territories.
Enough challenge to look impressive.
Not enough to risk anything that mattered.
There were ten riders in total:
The King.
Legos.
Heiron.
The Spy Master, Vaelrith.
And five seasoned guards.
Jax rode at the King's side atop Steed.
The Shadow Beast drew looks, but no one commented.
When they reached the first clearing, the group dismounted.
Jax leaned down and whispered to Steed.
"Wander. Keep the other mounts safe."
The beast gave a low rumble and vanished between the trees like living night.
The men exchanged glances.
It was still unsettling.
The first quarry rose easily.
A cluster of wyvern-fowl burst from the brush, shrieking as arrows loosed.
Legos struck first.
Heiron followed.
The King drew and fired with elegant precision.
Three down before they cleared the treeline.
More flushed from cover.
More fell.
The movements were clean. Skilled.
But predictable.
The hunt lacked tension.
Even the King felt it.
After the third small clearing, he lowered his bow slightly.
"That's the last of them," Heiron announced.
The guards moved to retrieve the kills.
Legos sheathed his weapon.
"A good morning's work."
But it wasn't.
Not really.
Jax had borrowed Llandra's bow for the outing, but he hadn't fired a single shot.
He walked beside the King as they moved deeper through the forest.
Mud clung to boots.
Branches scratched against cloaks.
Legos glanced back with a smirk.
"Probably best the women didn't come. This would've ruined their dresses."
A few guards chuckled.
Jax didn't.
"Your sister has walked through worse," he said calmly.
Legos raised a brow.
"She's cleared multiple dungeons," Jax continued. "At time, Alone. Blood. Guts. Bile. Mud wouldn't bother her."
Silence followed.
Jax then looked toward the King.
"I'd wager the Queen wouldn't mind a little mud either."
The King huffed softly.
"She would not," he said. "That woman has dismembered beasts I wouldn't approach alone."
There was pride in his voice.
And something else.
Memory.
As they moved through denser vegetation, conversation shifted.
The King asked about Jax's past. He told them he was from Solmere.
Vaelrith pressed further.
"You arrived there only a year ago," the Spy Master added smoothly.
Jax nodded.
"I'm not originally from there."
"Then where?" Legos asked.
Jax gave them the same version he had given before.
A land without elves.
Without beastkin.
Without magic.
But filled with machines.
Carriages that flew.
Weapons that roared like thunder.
Cities that glowed at night without flame.
The guards murmured.
Heiron listened carefully.
Vaelrith believed him. He figured he knew what he really was.
The King did too. The stories were too similar to that of what he heard when he was a child.
Legos only scoffed.
"Flying carriages," he muttered. "Sure."
Jax only smiled.
Belief wasn't required.
By midday, the hunt had ended.
Too easily.
Too cleanly.
Jax broke the silence.
"The hunt itself was mild," he said, "but I've enjoyed the company."
The King glanced sideways at him.
Mild.
That word lingered.
He adjusted the new bow Jax had gifted him.
He felt different holding it.
Alive.
"You know," the King said slowly, "we're near the mid-tier wyvern grounds."
The guards stiffened immediately.
Legos turned sharply.
"Father—"
"There used to be a nest beyond that ridge," the King continued, pointing.
A pause.
Then he looked at his sons.
"What say we elevate this to a real hunt?"
One of the guards stepped forward quickly.
"Your Majesty, that's ill-advised. We cannot allow—"
The King turned.
"Oh? You cannot allow?"
The guard froze.
He wasn't being defiant.
Just dutiful.
But something had shifted.
The King's tone wasn't angry.
It was… curious.
"You are to protect me," the King said evenly. "Not command me."
The guard bowed immediately.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The King looked at Jax.
Jax only shrugged lightly.
"If we bag a wyvern," he said, "I have a killer recipe. We'll cook it fresh tonight."
That caught Legos' attention.
Heiron's too.
Even the guards seemed intrigued.
The King grinned.
"Let's hunt."
The forest thickened as they approached the ridge.
The smell of sulfur and musk lingered in the air.
Nests clung high in the trees and rocky outcroppings.
Mid-tier wyverns.
Not legendary.
But dangerous enough to demand respect.
Jax finally stepped forward.
"Here's the plan."
He pointed to the flanks.
"We separate the nest. Don't kill at first. Create chaos. Force one to flee the direction we want."
They selected a large specimen.
Scarred.
Broad-winged.
A proper beast.
Jax took position opposite the King's group.
He loosed his first arrow.
Not lethal.
Provocative.
The nest erupted.
Wyverns shrieked and burst into flight.
Guards fired flame arrows to the right flank, forcing retreat lines.
Explosions cracked through the canopy.
The targeted wyvern panicked exactly as predicted.
It veered left—
Toward the King.
The forest opened into a narrow clearing.
The beast burst through.
Four bows drew.
The King's arrow released first.
Clean.
Perfect.
It pierced through the skull.
Vaelrith struck the chest.
Heiron and Legos followed.
The beast crashed to earth, writhing.
The King drew his sword.
Walked forward.
One smooth motion.
The head separated cleanly.
Silence followed.
Then—
Breathing.
Heavy.
Satisfied.
Vaelrith stored the body.
Legos laughed.
Heiron exhaled sharply.
The guards relaxed visibly.
It had taken two extra hours.
But it had been worth every step.
The King stood taller.
Younger.
He looked at his sons.
Then at Jax.
His eyes were alive.
"Now that," he said, "was a hunt."
Jax smiled.
"I thought you might enjoy it."
The King looked back toward the forest.
Toward the deeper wilds.
Toward something he had not felt in decades.
Purpose.
Not ceremony.
Not politics.
Purpose.
He mounted his steed.
"Let's return," he said. "We have a wyvern to prepare."
As they rode back toward Etherevalis, the guards whispered among themselves.
They had not seen their King like that in years.
Not since before the crown weighed heavier than steel.
And riding beside him—
Was a human who did not treat him like fragile royalty.
But like a warrior.
The King did not say it aloud.
But he felt it clearly.
The hunt had not restored his skill.
He had never lost that.
It had restored something far more important.
The right to choose his own battles.