After the survivors of Scorvain had finished their lunch, they all began to prepare to leave the way station and travel north towards the icy city of Antar.

Alesson stood outside in the warm red sunlight that was flooding over the desolate tundra on top of the cliffs above the city. The rocky ground was mostly covered in a thick carpet of multi coloured moss. Hues of red, orange, yellow and green streaked across the uneven surfaces and made the ground look like a living and slowly growing patchwork quilt of colour. In some of the more sheltered areas about an inch of snow had piled up in the shadows from the previous night's storm. The red sun had melted away a lot of the snow making the moss slick and slippery. In contrast to the mossy patches on the dark stone floor, a few trees had managed to squeeze through the gaps in the earth, they were thin and scrawny, and their bark was bright white. The tree's arms clawed at the sky, desperate for as much sunlight as they could grasp, but they were firmly rooted in the thick, rocky earth, absorbing the sparse amount of nutrients from the soil.

The way station stood in one of the thin thickets of trees, Alesson had not really noticed how run down the building was, when he had arrived early that morning. The roof was sagging at one end of the house and some of the walls between the structure and the stables had collapsed. The young prince felt a lot more refreshed after a few hours of sleep and the feel of the sun on his skin made him feel more alive. He raised his head to stare at the large red disc that hung in the sky off to the south of the way station. A few wisps of grey-white cloud floated listlessly across the pale bluish sky.

Alesson looked down and concentrated on the hustle and bustle that was happening in the forecourt of the station. Rakk, Deltain and Narlia were carefully loading the group's belongings into three small carts that had been kept in the stables. While Garlent and Razza were herding the three large horses into position at the front of each four-wheeled cart.

Alesson thought the carts looked far too old and rickety to support much weight, but Narlia had assured the party that each cart had been able to hold four fully armoured cadets and would easily be able to carry the six people and a few supplies. The wheeled vehicles were covered with a thin canvas roof that was held in place with thick rope and the wooden frames of the body of the cart were bolstered with steel.

The three big horses were not made of crystal; they were made of flesh and blood just like the humans that they were going to pull along in the carts. The two larger horses were a dark shade of grey and the smaller one was a light chestnut brown colour. Alesson remembered one of his earlier lectures with Deltain about the origins of humanity and the animals and plants that they had appeared with, and he wondered what other things man had brought with him.

"Alesson, it's time to go," Linta shouted from the other side of the forecourt and pulled the boys attention away from his idle musings.

"I'll be right there, Linny," he called back, then he jumped over a pile of rubble and moved towards the three carts. Frostbite was lying on his belly near the building and when he saw the young prince coming, the young white wolf bounded over to the boy and nuzzled around Alesson's legs. The dark-haired boy looked down lovingly at his friend and patted the wolf's head affectionately.

Garlent had finished securing the last horse to its cart and was muttering under his breath. "Carts, I hate these slow-moving things, we'd get there so much quicker on horseback," said the giant man as he rubbed the bandage on his baldhead.

Deltain was on the other side of the cart and heard the commander's mutterings. The old Sage was clutching the wineskin that he had managed to keep hold of from earlier; he took a short sip and walked round to Garlent. "Yes, Garlent, horseback would be faster, but it would also make us very visible to prying eyes. In these covered carts, we can hide and pretend to be travelling merchants. You of all people should be able to see the tactical advantage of blending in and staying hidden."

"Yes, I know this is the safest way, but I just can't stand running away and hiding like this," Garlent said irritably to the old man.

Alesson stepped forward and fire burned in the pit of his stomach. "I agree Garlent, I hate that Inemi is so close, but we can't get to him and kill the traitor. I hate that we're skulking away with our tails between our legs. Worst of all, I hate that I'm not strong enough to fight him yet."

"Do not fear Your Highness," Garlent replied looking at the seething young man. "One day you will be. I'll make sure of that. We'll begin training later today, once we're a bit further away from this place."

"Good," Alesson said determinedly.

Narlia then came back out of the way station and approached the men. "That's the last of the supplies, we should have enough to last five days by which time we'll be at the town of Entarus at the head of the Ice Gorge."

Garlent looked at the dark-haired portly woman and nodded at her in approval. "We've got plenty of money; I managed to get a sack of gold from the royal treasury before we left, just in case."

"Isn't that stealing?" Deltain said to Garlent with a smirking grin.

"Not at all, it's called forward planning," Garlent replied and winked at the sage.

"Ok let's mount up and get going," Deltain said, "I'll go in the lead cart with Garlent, Rakk can you bring up the rear?"

"Of course, my Lord," Rakk said saluting sharply. Deltain nodded at the young warrior and looked him up and down.

"I think we'd better drop all these titles if we're going to pretend to be travellers. No more Highnesses, Lords or ranks of any kind, ok?" Deltain said to the assembled party. They all nodded in agreement, then Rakk and Garlent moved off to their carts to do a final check that all the straps and ropes were tied up securely.

"I guess that means the twins travel with me in the middle cart then Deltain?" Narlia asked.

"Yes, that cart has the least in it and there's room for Frostbite and Lars inside too."

Alesson helped his sister up into the middle cart and then he climbed in as well. The cart was tiny inside; there were three small packs of supplies and just enough room for the two teenagers and their crystal companions. The inside of the cart smelt musky, with a strong metallic scent, probably from all the armoured cadets it used to carry.

Narlia climbed up onto the front of the cart and ducked her head under the cart cover. "Are you ready?" she said melodically. The twins nodded as they squeezed down to sit opposite each other, behind where Narlia was sat. Frostbite curled up next to Alesson and put his blunt muzzle on the boy's lap and Lars was still draped over the princess's shoulders. Narlia's head disappeared back through the flaps, they heard the gentle shake of the reins, and the cart started to move forward. The ride was not a gentle one, the carts seemed to bounce along, and the twins were constantly being jarred against the wooden sides of the cart.

"This is going to be pleasant," Linta said to her brother as she struggled to stay upright, while the cart bumped along.

"Yeah," Alesson agreed sarcastically, "I think we'll be able to double the number of bruises we have by the end of the day.

Linta smiled at her brother's whimsical statement. The cart was also very noisy; the grating sound of the wheels rolling over the rock and gravel was mixed with the constant clip clop of the horse's hooves. As Linta thought about the cacophony of noise, she remembered the bright song she had heard in her mind earlier and the strange voice.

"Alesson, did you hear the strange music in your head at lunch time when Narlia said she was coming with us?"

"Yes, so you can hear it too, what about the voice?" Alesson said.

The girl nodded. "Who do you think it is? It seems to be so calm and patient, but I can't help but do as it commands."

"I don't know who it is, but you're right I couldn't disobey the voice. I've tried talking to it and sometimes it answers, but most of the time it just ignores me." Alesson scratched at his chin thoughtfully.

"What's the voice said to you so far, maybe we could work together to find out who it is?"

"The voice was the one who told me how to find the hidden passageway out of the castle. It also told me earlier that we had to go north to restore the Etherium, when Garlent and Deltain were arguing," Alesson said, and then an idea popped into his head. "Linta, do you think it could be our father?"

Linta's emerald, green eyes lit up and she looked hopefully at her sibling. "Maybe it is, it doesn't sound quite the same as father, but I really hope that it is him."

Alesson thought hard about the events of the early morning and tried to remember the first time he heard the calm voice. "Thinking about it, the first time I heard it was shortly after the vortex took father away. Could the vortex have taken his body away, but left his ghost here and that's what we're hearing?"

"Oh Alesson, I do wish that you're right," Linta said as the cart bounced along. Then her head thudded sharply against the inside of the farm cart. "Oww" she said and rubbed her head "I think this cart rides going to be the death of us."

Alesson laughed and in his heart, he too wished that the voice was his fathers, and that King Trengar was not as lost as everybody thought he was.

Linta pushed herself up onto her knees and poked her head out through the flap to see what was making the journey so bumpy. Outside Linta could see the tundra rolling past, the sparse vegetation made the area look lifeless and flat. In the distance, she could see a few tall snow-capped mountains to break up the flat horizon, but they looked very small so were probably a very long way away.

"Are you ok Linta?" Narlia asked when she noticed the girl's head had popped through the opening.

Linta was still rubbing her head with one hand whilst the other clung on to the backboard of Narlia's bench. "It's a little bumpy back here, is it going to be like this all the way."

"No, princess. We're just on a small bumpy trail that leads to the great north road, which we'll follow all the way up to Entarus," Narlia answered the copper curled girl. "The Great North Road is a busy trail and should be a lot smoother. Would you like to see my map?"

Linta nodded and Narlia took a rolled piece of paper out of a bag that was on the bench next to her and passed it to the princess. Linta unrolled it and saw the whole of Pentatha, she quickly found the city of Scorvain and above it was a line that depicted the road. The road wiggled up in a northeasterly direction to a crossroads where the town of Entarus stood. She traced the line with her finger, then looked up and out over the landscape again as she tried to guess where they were on the map. Soon she had forgotten about the roughness of the journey and was watching the scenery go past, she had always wanted to see more of the world and now the young girl was getting just what she wanted. It was not long before Alesson too had popped his head through the curtains of the cart and the twins watched the world go by. Time seemed to drag but the two youngsters did not mind, they had never really been outside the walls of Scorvain, which helped to make the exodus from the castle become more of an adventure.

The convoy of carts soon came to a much wider and flatter path that was the Great North Road. The line of carts turned north and followed the smoother trail along, until the red star approached the horizon off to the west and the purple-blue sky began to darken. A few sparkling stars had also begun to twinkle across the dimming sky and part of the rainbow rings could be seen in the sky to the south. The procession of carts slowed and stopped, then Deltain walked back to the second cart.

"Narlia," Deltain said conversationally, "It's getting late and we're going to move off the road and make camp." The grey-haired old man pointed off to the left at a small hillock. "We'll camp up there for the night."

"Ok Deltain," Narlia replied and shook the reins to guide the horse off the road and up the gentle slope to the top of the small hill.

The hillock was covered in the thick moss, the ground was hard, and the rocks in the soil made the floor look very rough. The carts were moved into a semicircle and Garlent and Rakk began to unpack the group's tents and set them up next to the carts ready for the night. The three tents were made of thick white canvas and looked well used. Alesson was going to share one of the tents with Deltain, while Garlent and Rakk shared another, leaving the women in the third tent.

Deltain sent Alesson off to try to find some dry sticks to use as firewood while Narlia and Linta decided what to make for supper. Alesson walked around the knoll and managed to find a few small twigs, and a lot of dry moss around a thick twisted tree, that stood at the base of the small hill. The tree's bark was cracked and falling off the mangled stump in big flakes. Alesson picked up some of the bark and soon had a respectable armful of dry combustible fuel for the cooking fire.

When he returned to the camp, the tents were fully constructed, and the bedrolls had been piled up ready. The women had put together some supplies to make a nice thick meaty stew. Rakk had dug a small fire pit in the centre of the campsite and Alesson dropped the sticks, moss and bark into the hole and arranged them into a small pyramid. The red-haired soldier then produced flint and tinder and proceeded to rub them together to try to get a spark to start the fire. He tried unsuccessfully for a few minutes and then threw his hands in the air and looked at Chal. The birds head bobbed, and it hopped lightly to the ground and placed a burning wing on the pile of moss and the fire jumped to life.

Narlia had got a large cooking pot out and was placing the vegetables, meat, and other seasonings into the pot. Deltain came back from the far side of the carts with two large buckets of water. "There's a few small rock pools of water on the other side of the hill, it's a bit stagnant but should be fine to cook with and water the horses."

Very soon, the group of companions had a bubbling pot of stew and a finished campsite. They all sat down round the fire and started eating. The stew was very different to the type of food that the twins were normally used to, but they were so hungry from all the travelling they had done that day, that they devoured the bowl of food quickly. Rakk once again ate his way through four helpings of the stew while the others stared at the young man, wondering where he put it all. After the stew, they all had some fruit and sat back to let their food go down. They watched the large red star as it started to sink below the horizon, which made the ground look like it was burning.

Soon the group fell into little discussions as they all got to know each other a little better. The mood from earlier had been quite gloomy as they all got to grips with their situation, but now it seemed that the cloud of sorrow was being blown away slowly. Alesson still felt spikes of rage at the loss of his father or maybe just his father's body, but he kept pushing them to the side, as he knew one day, he would get his revenge.

A hand came down on his shoulder and Alesson jumped as the sudden pressure intruded on his thoughts. It was Garlent and in his other hand, he held something that was wrapped up in cloth.

"Are you ready to begin your training?" Garlent asked the boy.

Alesson nodded his head once, turned, and stood up to face the huge hulking man. Garlent tossed the wrapped-up item to Alesson, and he caught it in both hands, it was slightly longer than the entire length of his arm and felt quite heavy.

"Your father wanted you to have this when you finished your training, but I think it would serve you better to learn to use it now," Garlent said cryptically.

Alesson unrolled the item and discovered that it was a sword, its blade was sharp, and it shined brightly. The hilt was black and bound with soft leather; it also had several small blue gems set into the pommel in a small circle. Alesson lifted the blade up and felt the weight, it was quite heavy, but he thought with more training he would get used to it. The sword felt well balanced and Alesson discovered that it was very sharp when he tested the blade against his finger and cut himself.

"Thank you, Garlent," Alesson said to the giant as he wiped his bloody finger on his sleeve.

"Don't thank me, thank your father, he remembered to pick it up when we left the castle. Now make him proud and learn to use it well," Garlent said as he unsheathed his own sword and pointed it at Alesson. "Now show me what you can do, young prince."

Alesson set his feet and edged closer to the large man, he raised his new sword again and lunged forward at Garlent, who instead of parrying, just stepped aside and Alesson fell forward to the ground.

"Come on trainee, you can do better than that, don't overbalance yourself and make sure you keep your eye on your target. Now try again," Garlent taunted.

Alesson jumped back up onto his feet and came at the commander again, he'd had a fair amount of basic training with swords and other weapons, so this time he tried a simple pattern that he had learnt. He swung the sword in a wide arc to his right and Garlent parried it away and took a step back, Alesson took up the chase continuing the pattern with a low swing from right to left. Garlent must have recognised the sequence of blows and guarded appropriately, and the two continued their deadly dance. The pair practiced together for quite some time until the large sun finally dropped completely below the horizon and Garlent called a halt.

"That's enough for today. You're a quick study my boy, but you need to learn to be more adaptable and sense your opponent's movements better. You did well, but we've still got a long way to go, before you're fully ready," Garlent complimented the young boy.

Alesson's shoulders and arms burned after the long arduous workout, but it felt good to be doing something and he felt like he had improved slightly. He was breathing heavily, and he slumped to the floor as his muscles pulsed painfully. His chest rose and fell to suck in as much air as possible. Alesson thought at the time that he would sleep well that night after such vigorous exercise. However, once he had managed to drag himself into his tent, Alesson lay wide-awake in his bedroll.

Alesson had never slept on the ground before, he had struggled to sleep that morning on the lumpy straw mattress, but the hard soil made sleeping impossible. He tried lying on his back, on his side and even on his stomach, but slumber eluded him. The white wolf was curled up next to him and seemed to have no problem sleeping at all.

Soon Deltain came into the tent; he must have been a little tipsy, because he was swaying a lot and cursed loudly when he almost tripped over his own pack. Then realising that the tent was occupied and that Alesson was awake, he silently cursed again that he had woken up the young prince.

"Don't worry Deltain, you didn't wake me. I just can't seem to get to sleep." Alesson whispered to the old drunkard.

"Sorry." Deltain slurred to the dark-haired boy. "You'll get used to the hard ground after a few nights," the old sage said and hiccupped as the fiery wine in his belly made its presence known. "Just close your eyes and lie still, sleep will find you soon enough."

Deltain collapsed into his sleeping bag and after much more cursing and grunting, he managed to wriggle down into the thick covers. Alesson was worried about the old man; he seemed to be drinking constantly since leaving the way station. Deltain seemed to be using the red fermented liquid to hide the pain of losing the king, who had been his best friend for as long as he could remember. In the darkness, Alesson could see that the wineskin had been emptied and was completely deflated. Maybe the old sage would have to cope with his grief tomorrow, without the aid of alcohol. Soon soft snoring could be heard from where the old man was lying.

"Come on, sleep," Alesson muttered to himself and rolled over until he managed to find a slightly more comfortable way to lay. He closed his eyes and tried to will himself to rest, but still his mind would not stop racing and the curtain of sleep continued to avoid him.

"Do not force slumber, Son of the Scorch descendants," said the calm voice in his mind.

"I'm sorry father, I just can't settle," Alesson thought back to the soft gentle voice.

"I am not your father, young prince," the voice declared and Alesson felt that the voice was quite remorseful about the loss of King Trengar.

"Then who are you?" Alesson asked the other consciousness that seemed to be living in his head. At first Alesson thought that the voice was ignoring him, as if the question was too difficult for it to answer, but then the voice returned.

"I am all that remains of the soul that inhabited the light stone, which your family calls the Etherium. Now sleep young prince and do not wake until morning."

Then the voice was gone and as the startling revelation of the entity's identity pierced its way into Alesson's brain, the strange souls other command took effect and the boy slipped into a deep sleep.