✓ The Song Of The Raven, Thomas

001 Thomas

Wind rustled through his fur as he leaped over fallen trees and raced through the cold winter forest. His bright blue eyes moved back and forth, watching as the black blur raced beside him. It was fast, but he was faster.

A quick and loud swooshing sound caused the stag to look up to the sky. A flash of white shot above him, passing the clearing up ahead. The stag huffed and a prominent growl sounded from beside him. It had just won.

The stag stopped and so did the mysterious black blur which turned out to be a large black wolf. It's eyes were a brilliant grey and it's paws where white. The two large creatures stared in front of them and began shaking their heads - the action looked almost human.

In the clearing stood a huge white dragon with gold eyes and gold speckled scales. It looked magnificent as it stood in all its glory in front of the two large animals. The dragon began crouching down and so did the stag and the wolf. The dragons skin sizzled and a cloud of smoke encased them, when it disappeared the animals were no more and in their place stood three tall men in their early 20's.

"You two lost horribly." Newt laughed out as he joined his two friends, his accent thick and prominent when he spoke.

They started walking back to the castle, their body's draped in thick warm furs.

"You only won because you can fly. If Thomas and I could, you'd be screwed Newt." Minho said, stepping over a piece of fallen tree. His big black fur pelt swayed behind him hypnotically as they continued to walk.

Thomas chuckled from between his two friends and stared behind them. In the distance, almost barely visible through the snowy sky, was The Mare. Her kingdom. Every time the trio went out for runs, he always looked back at her castle.

Thomas wondered if she still carried the same features; they had grown a lot more since they'd last seen each other. They were 21 now, of course she would look different.

Newt scoffed at his friends words and rolled his eyes. Every time they raced and Newt won, Minho blamed it on the fact that Newt could fly and they couldn't. Which was true.

The air was absolutely freezing for the three men, their breath visible every time they spoke out into the cold winter air. Their thick clothing did very little to stop the light goosebumps that formed on their skin.

"Are you coming to the winter ball that The Mare hosts yearly?" Newt asked Thomas. The blonde boy could sense the brunette tense from beside him. It was a dumb question to ask because the last time Thomas had gone, they were children.

When Thomas stayed silent, Minho spoke up. "You are 21 now, Thomas. You're almost king, that means you no longer have to do what your father says when he tries to control where you can go." He said. The slightly taller boy could tell that he missed her, every one could tell that Thomas missed her. He didn't try very hard to hide it.

"She probably doesn't even want to see me." Thomas said, his shoulders dropping. "Besides, last I heard she was in an arranged marriage with some bastard from Ostahan. You really think I want to put myself through that kind of misery of seeing her with someone else?"

Thomas stormed off a bit further up away from the two other men. Newt glanced at Minho as a way of trying to communicate something to the buff man. Minho seemed to understand what he was trying to say and nodded back.

"She hates him by the way." Minho said in a sing-song tone, his steps taking a more skip like pattern. Thomas quirked an eyebrow at his friends words. She hated the man she was supposed to be betrothed to? "Says they always fight and he only sees their marriage as a political thing and nothing more." Newt added.

Maybe Thomas would make an appearance at the winter ball. He just wanted to see her, it had been so long since his honey eyes had laid themselves on her beautiful face. He would see her soon though, and hopefully she would be happy to see him back.

Snowbrooke was a beautiful place, it's kingdom was as magical as the realm it was in. It was always autumn there, the trees ever changing and the leaves always falling. For Thomas and the people of Snowbrooke, it was home.

Like every kingdom, Snowbrooke's kingdom kept to its season, which was fall. Telmar, Newts kingdom, was like summer. The kingdom was almost unbearable due to its close proximity to the volcanos. The locals there didn't care, most of them adapted to the weather and they all seemed to thrive and live peacefully.

Minho's kingdom was like the arctic, ice covered everything and snow was a permanent thing in the sky. Every kingdoms people had adapted to their surroundings over time and it seemed they thrived in their environments.

"How has your father not tried to marry you off to another princess yet?" Minho asked as they arrived at the gates of the castle, his fur coat sliding off his shoulders as he shrugged it down.

"Oh, he tried. Remember the girl from Brosa?" The three boys winced at the memory of the princess of Brosa, she had been kind at first but when she got alone with him, she made it clear she was only marrying him for his power.

"She was ... definitely something." Newt replied, the other boys scoffing in response as they trudged themselves through the castle.

The three boys passed the thrown room, Newt and Minho bowing to the king and queen as they went. There was a festival to get ready for, and Thomas hoped his father wouldn't find out about him going.