Chapter 4 4.Chapter 4: Of Crowned Goats and Unwanted Royal Visitors

Chapter 4: Of Crowned Goats and Unwanted Royal Visitors

Prince Valen Stormhart rode with the posture of someone who believed chairs were beneath him. His armor gleamed, his jawline was legally classified as a weapon, and his personal squire had just handed him his fifth mirror of the hour.

"It is important," Valen declared, combing his hair mid-gallop, "to look intimidating and devastatingly handsome."

The royal guards nodded with the enthusiasm of people who had to agree or be demoted to latrine scrubbing.

Valen's horse, meanwhile, appeared seconds from rebellion.

He wasn't merely chasing a runaway princess-he was hunting down a threat to the throne. A mysterious boy claiming destiny, reportedly carrying an enchanted talking sword, and possibly... winning Mira's attention.

"This Elric Thorne," Valen muttered, "will soon learn there's only room for one chosen one. And it's me."

"Your Highness," the squire said, squinting at the scroll, "I believe the prophecy referred to someone born under a twin eclipse while a goat sang opera-"

"Which I was!" Valen snapped. "The royal astrologer specifically noted the bleating. It was very operatic."

Meanwhile, Elric had just discovered how cursed stew could be when cooked by a fox spirit who seasoned with pocket glitter and "whatever was growing on the north side of the windmill."

"This tastes like betrayal," he muttered, chewing something that might've once been a beetle or a wizard's sock.

"It's earthy," Nox defended. "And emotionally complex."

They were seated around a glowing fire in the windmill, Mira reclined against a stack of stolen pillows, poring over the magical map.

"So," Elric said, mouth full. "Where exactly are we going?"

"The Forest of Withering Whispers," Mira replied casually. "Cursed trees, disembodied voices, mild hallucinations, and a deeply annoying dryad who owes me ten silver."

Elric blinked. "That doesn't sound remotely safe."

"Oh, it's not. But it's where the ruins are-and probably where your goat-king ghost friend wants us to go."

Nox perked up. "Goat-king ghost?! Why wasn't I informed?! I love cryptid royalty."

Before Elric could clarify, the windmill's door exploded open.

Three cloaked figures entered, swords drawn, wearing matching dark leather and far too much eyeliner to be casual visitors.

"Elric Thorne," the tallest said, "you've been marked for arrest on charges of impersonating the Chosen One, consorting with royal fugitives, and-"

"Eating the Prince's cheese," another muttered.

"-and eating the Prince's cheese."

Elric slowly raised his hands. "Technically, it was unmarked cheese."

Mira launched a smoke bomb.

Chaos exploded.

Nox turned into a badger and bit someone's ankle. Mira vanished into the rafters. Elric tried to cast a spell and instead flung a spoon into someone's ear. It was not magical, but incredibly effective.

When the smoke cleared, the windmill was a wreck. Two of the intruders were unconscious. The third had been tied to a chair using enchanted socks, courtesy of Nox.

Elric, panting, looked at Mira. "So. What now?"

She tossed him his satchel. "Now we run."

"But I just sat down!"

"Then stand up again. And run faster."

As they vanished into the forest, pursued by guards, destiny, and several confused chickens, the map shimmered faintly.

At the center of the ruins lay a door carved in obsidian, pulsing with old magic.

A voice, deep and ancient, rumbled behind it:

"The crown is not forgotten.

The heir walks unknowingly.

And the true enemy... has already awakened."