Chapter 21: To the Kingdom
"The... capital?" Velren repeated, blinking his eyes in confusion.
Is he serious?
His gaze shifted to the old man lounging on the bench, casually sipping his drink under the shade of a weathered oak tree in the garden. The old man didn't elaborate, he just took another swig, fixing his gaze on the clouds above like this was any other morning.
'The capital... as in the kingdom?'
That was... a first.
Velren rubbed the back of his neck, glancing away. Why now? Gramps had never—not once—asked him to tag along during his visits there. It wasn't like he hadn't thought about it before. The capital, with its bustling activities, was supposedly a place brimming with life and intrigue. But...
He never really cared to go.
The forest was enough—peaceful, familiar. His life, though repetitive, was stable. Hunt, gather, train. Rinse and repeat. No need for the noise and complexities of city life.
And yet...
Curiosity had poked at him occasionally. During those rare times when Gramps disappeared for days on end, Velren had asked the wolves about it—only to receive half-answers. Fenrir once shrugged and told him that sometimes, the old man would deliver herbs, or visiting old friends. It was hard to say, really.
And then there was the other reason.