With the boar occupying Niklas' saddle, he and Ren rode together on Ren's mare. The ride back was uncharacteristically quiet. Ren's thoughts kept circling back to the party he would miss and the half day of sea travel ahead of him. The last time he had been on a boat, he had sworn to never do it again. Or at least, to abstain from eating an entire roast chicken before boarding. It hadn't tasted nearly as good on the way up.

Niklas' patience only lasted as far as to the dirt track leading the way back towards the city. “Hey,” he said, leaning over to try and catch Hellic's gaze and almost dragging Ren out of the saddle with him. “Cheer up, birthday boy. The party is going to be great and you just took down the king of the forest. Why are you two acting like someone just died?” He poked Ren in the ribs.

Ren couldn't help but smile at the comment, batting Niklas' hand away. The dwarf boar was hardly the king of the forest.

Hellic flushed and nudged his horse to keep it from lagging behind. “Why do you think the Skarlan king wants to come to my birthday celebration?” he asked, a strand of dark hair falling over his eyes as he let his head hang. “They don't like us and we definitely don't like them.”

Ren tried for an encouraging smile. “You're turning twenty. That's a big deal. You could legally become king, now. I guess it makes sense for royal families to visit each other for such occasions,” he said, not entirely sure if he believed his own theory.

“A king needs a queen,” Hellic said darkly.

The terrain sloped downwards. Around them, forest birds sang heartily, completely unfazed by their prince's sour mood.

Niklas laughed. “Such optimism. I thought you liked women.”

“I do,” Hellic protested. “But haven't you heard what the court has been whispering? They say the Skarlan king wants to offer his daughter to me. I don't want to marry a Skarlan.” Hellic's face twisted into a grimace.

“Calm down,” Ren said, turning his horse down the trail that led back to the city. “Your father will never marry you to a Skarlan. He hates them as much as anyone.”

“I hope you're right.”

Ren was about to speak again when the blare of a horn tore through the silence, deep and mournful. They all stopped and listened.

“Here, take the reins,” Ren said, passing them back to Niklas before he swung his leg over his mare's neck and dropped onto the ground.

Heading for a collection of large rocks, Ren leapt onto the lowest one, placed his right foot in a crevice, and dragged himself higher until he had a clear view of the valley that stretched out before them. Holding up a hand to shield his eyes from the sharp, early morning sun, he looked out over the city below.