Chapter 104: The mountain bandits
"How much longer are we going to travel?" Atilla asked, shifting uncomfortably in the saddle as cramps began to set in from riding for too long.
Ceremus shot him a glance before turning his gaze forward. "Tired already?"
"N-No, not at all!" Atilla spluttered. His grip on the reins tightened as he tried to mask the exhaustion in his voice.
The king sighed, observing him from the corner of his eye. It was easy to forget that Atilla was still a child—unused to long journeys, let alone hours of relentless travel. Scanning their surroundings, Ceremus searched for a suitable place to rest.
The weather was worsening. The once-clear blue sky had darkened, heavy gray clouds rolling in as a violent wind bit through their cloaks. The first snowfall of the season was near, which would make traveling even more difficult.
Then, he spotted it. A jagged rock formation jutted out from the forest ahead, half-hidden against the backdrop of trees. If not for his keen eyesight, he would have missed it entirely.
"Over there," he said, pointing toward the rocks. "We'll rest by those outcrops. They should shield us from the wind for a while."
Atilla followed his gaze and blinked. He hadn't even noticed the formation before. The longer he spent time with Ceremus, the more he realized how sharp and resourceful the king was—an unexpected trait for someone of royal blood. Atilla had grown up in a nation where kings sat idly on their thrones while their people suffered. His expectations of Ceremus had been low at the start, but time and time again, the man proved him wrong.
Grateful, Atilla nodded. His skin already stung from the cold, and the thought of finding shelter, even temporarily, was a relief.
As they made their way toward the rocky outcrop, snowflakes began to fall, swirling around them in thick flurries. Though his face remained impassive, Ceremus watched in quiet amazement. This was his first time seeing snow, and though he did not say it aloud, the sight mesmerized him. His golden eyes gleamed under the white swirls, catching Atilla's attention. The young knight couldn't help but smile.
When they reached the base of the rocks, Ceremus dismounted first. Only their light breathing and the soft crunch of boots against freshly fallen snow filled the silence.