mage

Her advisers warned her against it, but Princess Caroline already knew what they faced.

If they could not figure out a way to bring their armies back, enemies on their borders would scent their weakness and attack.

Hellea needed Morrova as much as Morrova needed Hellea.

It was up to Princess Caroline to make the bear of a prince understand it.

Prince Hallmar had agreed to meet with her.

Caroline prayed she wouldn’t regret it.

He was a bear of a man. Tall. Broad. And all the more imposing in stark white.

As cold as the snow, her advisers said.

She prayed he loved his people more than the snow did.

Princess Caroline surveyed the crater where once there had been two armies.

She closed her eyes and whispered a silent prayer for her brother.

But she would mourn later.

For the moment, she needed to save her kingdom and Hallea.

A woman walked toward him.

Tall. Powerful. Fierce.

A Hallean woman.

Prince Randolph reached for his sword.

“We can kill each other. Or we can find a way home and kill each other there,” she said.

Prince Randolph smiled.

“Where are we?” Prince Randolph asked the portly general.

The man was shaking so badly, he couldn’t answer.

“Status report!” Prince Randolph demanded.

But no one could tell him what had happened.

Not even the mages.

When Prince Randolph again could open his eyes, he was surrounded by the wounded and the dying. By his troops.

But nothing else.

The mountains were gone.

The moon.

The sky.

There was ground beneath their feet, but all around them, was nothing but an empty void.