Ptolema jerked awake from her nightmare. The king had sliced off her families heads, but she awoke before he could slaughter her too. As she yawned and stretched her back she noticed a tall figure standing beside her bed. The Captain. He still had his night clothes on but he had a horrific look covering his face.

"You were screaming so loud last night," he finally wheezed, " I tried to shake you awake, but you wouldn't wake up!" Ptolema noticed his whitened knuckles and laughed.

"You were worried about me?" She could not help but pull the covers off her body and walk to change in his closet.

He had so many uniforms and outfits, she decided if she took one for herself he would not mind. So, she slipped into a white shirt and some brown pants that sagged so much, she had to tie the belt of the pants around her rip cage. She put on some boots and a few knives on a belt around her waist. She braided her hair in two, then tied it into one bun. Ptolema looked into the mirror that the Captain had in his closet. She looked almost half dead.

Blue circled her eyes, and her cheeks sagged. She looked like the living dead. Her bone structure showed everywhere. No way she could fight in this condition today. She will have to eat five meals before she left just to get energized.

Finally, Ptolema stopped looking at herself in the mirror and walked back out of the closet to lie on her bed. The pillow-like mattress comforted her as she closed her eyes and dreamt again. She dreamt of her death being fast and painless, the way she wish she could have it. Nevertheless, that will happen.

"Get up, you lazy head!" The Captain growled at her. Her looked as if he's going to a self portrait today. His tunic was nice and neat and his pants were tucked and smooth while his black shiny shoes glowed in the sun's morning rise. Ptolema automatically wishes she could just disappear into thin air. The walls seem to keep caving in on her as the morning has been going on. The air has become thinner, yet the Captain seemed unaffected by it.

"I have forgotten your name, Captain," Ptolema sneered while sitting up in bed, "Or should I keep calling you Captain."

He chuckled, "As much as I love you calling me Captain I think I would rather you call me by my real name, Asher."

"Well, Asher, should we get going?"

"Are you ready?"

"I was born ready!"

Asher handed Ptolema the bag she had brought into his room last night. She searched it, to make sure everything was still there, before they left.

Once Ptolema was done, they zoomed out of the room and raced eachother to the royal stables. They both started to laugh and dance as they entered the stables. The Prince was already there, waiting to accompany them on their journey.

It hit her like a hammer to the head, Irik is missing. She searched around the stables for him. He was nowhere. She had only known him for a little while, yet she felt herself around him. As if the Prince had known what she was thinking, he grabbed her hand and winked, "He'll be coming later."

Asher looked at them with one eyebrow up. He quickly shock his head and threw a saddle onto his brown mare. The horse was a stunning piece of artwork as it nodded its head and roared out with pride of itself.

The Prince showed me my horse. It is more beautiful and stunning than Asher's. It was black like midnight with a white streak down its nose. It neighed and bickered as she walked toward the astounding creature. It halted to let Ptolema pet its nose. The Prince left to ready his own horse for the journey.

Ptolema stayed looking into the horses gorgeous black eyes for so long she almost lost herself in them. Breaking away from the enchanting black eyes, she saddled the horse and hopped on. It did not show any sign of anger as she clicked her heels on the horse and grabbed its mane. The horse started into a slow canter until it was out of the stables.

"Come on, slow pokes!" Ptolema teases. She loved the fresh air of the forest around them. The sun beaming onto her skin. The trees dancing to the silent song of the wind.  Ptolema closed her eyes and let nature take over her body and soul. She heard the wind speak in the silent language of its own. The grass screamed her name as, it too, danced to the wind. Every leave that cracked in the forest could be heard from miles away, so Ptolema whispered, "Help." The Prince and the Captain were preoccupied with getting their horses ready, that her word did not even touch their ear.

Once the two men were done, they cantered out on their horses. Ptolema snapped back to reality with a quick motion of her hands.

"Follow me," was all the Prince said before putting his horse in full gallop into the forest with Ptolema and Asher following close behind.