Edmund stared into the palms of his hands. It'd been an eternity since Horace had been taken, each moment more unbearable than the next. Though how he'd spent that time was muddled, the proof of the things he had done was all around him.

Upturned tables.

Collapsed tents.

Bruised faces of The Baron's men that had been left behind.

Edmund had lost his mind to his emotions. His worst fear had come true. But time still passed, proven by the sun that was now setting behind the mountains.

Edmund hated feeling helpless, hated being trapped and forced to follow the whims of a deranged criminal. But he had no choice. There was nothing he could do but wait for The Baron's orders. If he gave into his emotions and charged forward, that man would kill his son. Horace—no, Eugene, he mentally corrected himself for the thousandth time—was all he had in this world. His dreams to rebuild the Dark Kingdom, to bring back its citizens and give them a life free of the Moonstone meant nothing if Eugene was gone. His son's happiness, his son's success, his son's love was what he truly cared about. The last piece of a life he lost long ago. And that precious child's life was under threat due to his own foolishness.

He clenched his fists so hard, the fingernails nearly broke through his leather gloves. He needed to break something. Edmund rose from the rubble pile he'd been sitting on and yanked a broken beam from the pile. With a roar, he hurled it at one of the collapsed tents. His heart beat in time with the crashing, and he watched the dust billow from the destruction with heavy breaths.

As the red haze clouding his vision subsided, he once again became aware of the damage he'd caused. His face flushed in embarrassment. It was such a waste. Pointless and childish. But breaking things had been the only thing keeping him moving during these long hours.

Adira and Hector had avoided his rampage. Neither Brotherhood member had approached him as he smashed their camp to pieces. Only when he'd nearly broken the neck of one of the prisoners in a pointless interrogation did Adira intervene. She'd grabbed his arm and flipped him to the ground. Hard. He had stared up at her in surprise, his face contorting into various expressions as he tried to process what had happened. The warrior had just silently stared down at him, disappointment deeply set into her painted face, and shook her head. That was when he'd slipped off to hide.

The two warriors watched at him from afar, their expressions flickering in the small campfire they'd started some time ago. Edmund knew they loved him and would follow whatever choices he made, but he couldn't face them in this state. Breaking eye-contact, he lumbered down the decrepit streets of his once great kingdom. When would The Baron send his message for the bargain? Was Eugene even still alive? What could The Baron possibly want more than killing his sworn enemy? Edmund was prepared to pay any price to guarantee his son's safety, and he had a pretty good guess what the criminal lord had in mind. But this waiting, all the unknowns, were killing him.

The sun was very low now. The mountains and crumbling buildings shadowed everything, bathing the world in a darkness true to the land's name. He stared into the orange and purple sky as the last of the daylight faded away.

Against the dying light, a dark dot circled.

The flight pattern of the black bird was unmistakable. It was carrier raven, quite like the dozens he'd trained alongside Hamuel. True to its task, the black bird descended from the sky. It's wings glided it down silently as if it were about to grab it's prey.

Edmund reflexively reached out his arm and braced it for the bird's landing. Once it had perched and folded its wings, he reached for the small tube tied to its leg. The raven watched him with one dark eye, cocking its head about expectantly. Edmund absentmindedly pulled several bird treats from his satchel (he always had them on hand) as he opened the mail capsule and withdrew the letter.

Unfolding the wrinkled parchment, Edmund read the contents of the letter as viciously as the raven pecking the treats out of his hand.

Midnight tonight in Drude Cavern. Your life for his. Come alone, or you both die.

The demands in the letter were what Edmund had expected. After all, The Baron had come all this way to assassinate him, not Eugene. This little exchange was just theatrical. And Edmund was more than willing to play his part. He'd always been ready to die for Eugene. Today's battle was no different. The only thing he he had to worry about now was making his way to the meeting alone.

Adira and Hector would never allow it. They'd plan a trap or try to sneak in without being seen in an ill-conceived, but well intended, act of heroics. An act that would get Eugene killed. Years as the Dark Kingdom's ruler had taught Edmund you couldn't win it all. It was by a stroke of luck that he'd been reunited with his son, and he was thankful for the time they'd been able to spend together the past few months. Asking for more was selfish and foolhardy when Eugene's life was on the line. It was something none of them could understand. He prayed that one day they could all forgive him.

Bending down, he picked a piece of burnt charcoal from the ground. The raven flapped its wings impatiently as it bobbed on his arm. With his free hand, he hastily scribbled the word "yes" on the backside of the letter. He then crumpled it back up and secured it back on the bird's leg. Once finished, he through his arm outward to signal the bird to fly away. It leapt from its perch with a caw, large wings exploding from its back, and took to the sky. After several soundless flaps, its dark form disappeared into the night.

If he left now, he could make it to Drude Cavern in time.

Edmund looked back towards the fire light dancing down the alleyways. It would be best to not face Adira and Hector now. They'd immediately know what he was up to if he tried to make an excuse for leaving or not wanting to be bothered this evening. His best bet was to leave now while they still thought he was sulking. That would give him at least a thirty minute head start. On top of that, they didn't know where or when the exchange was taking place. And while they were magnificent trackers, it had been Edmund's forefathers that had overseen their training, and therefore his own. With this knowledge and a head start, they'd never arrive in time to stop him.

"Thank you for your service, my brothers," Edmund whispered softly. "Please forgive your failure of a king."

He then set off towards the mountains before he could change his mind.