The Forgotten World

Runaway

Nordic screeched in fury as he turned his party around once again, heading back to the palace. This was the third day since the Bastian had stolen from the Holy Hall, and, again, Nordic returned, empty clawed.

As he flew back into more familiar territory, he dreaded his conversation with his father. The last two had not been in his favour.

His mind swung back to that trademark disapproving look of his father's that said 'you have failed me, again'. The thought of it alone made his feathers bristle.

Overruled by fear, he veered left and took a detour through the lush forests surrounding the kingdom, after telling his search party to return home, of course.

Only one of the party members hesitated to follow his commands, instead slowing down and following after him at a slower pace. Sapphira. Faithful as she was, she had to make sure the prince was alright.

It was a well known fact that the king's son hid in the woods when he didn't want anyone to bother him, but no one had ever found out where he went, mainly because they did not want to get lost in the cavernous jungle that he seemed able to navigate as easily as the open sky.

Sapphira ached for Nordic; it must be horrible to be expected to be successful in everything, by everyone, 24/7.

She knew how saddened the prince became when he could not complete his father's tasks, despite his best possible efforts. Nordic, with his sensitive nature, couldn't bear to have his proud father looking over him with the usual look of disappointment etched across his sharp features.

Sapphira couldn't bear it either. She was to be his mate, after all.

As she followed the sound of his fading wing beats, Sapphira heard a flutter from ahead which told her he had landed somewhere near the crest of a tall cliff at the edge of the border with Talon Clan. The meeting of the clans was scheduled to be the following day and guards were readying perches for the meeting below the cliffs.

She could make out each clans individual colour; light blue for Sky Clan, grey for Talon Clan, black for Ash Clan, green for Forest Clan, gold for Desert Clan, and white for Tundra clan.

Sapphira swept her aqua wing tips in a wide circle to go around behind the prince, with the hopes of avoiding the trained eyes of the guards below. They wouldn't question the prince's presence here, but she may be stopped.

Nordic bowed his handsome head and squawked softly to himself, "I could never be King. It's not in me. It's not who I am."

Sapphira crept towards the distraught griffon silently, her claws scraping the rock beneath her. "It's ok, Nordic. Today was just a bad day, you'll be a great King when the time is right," she soothed.

Nordic seemed unalarmed by her presence, even though she hadn't made a sound. " Sapph, sometimes I just want to fly away. Just me, you, and Digole. Get away from responsibilities and parents and.... and everything."

Sapphira clicked her beak at him and replied with a flick of her tail, "Nordic, you're a prince. You can't just run away from everything, not with the Bastian threat and the Clan meeting tomorrow."

Nordic furrowed his brow at the sky and answered haltingly "Maybe I'm done with my father, with this kingdom, with everything! Maybe I just don't care anymore." He screeched the last words and flared his wings angrily, feathers splayed to catch the sunlight.

Sapphira flattened her ears at the prince's sharp words. She clicked her beak again and strode up to him, sitting in the edge of his shadow. "You can get through this Nor, I know you can. You will find the Bastian thief, and then your father will be off your back."