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Never before had Raphael seen such a magnificent sight. 

After his long trek, he stood admiring the Tracovian fort and the seemingly small village that surrounded it. On one end, it was shrouded by harsh terrains but on the other, there was a long stretch of tall grasses before the forests began. 

Wonderful, he smiled as the rays of the sun touched his cold body but his joy was shortlived. 

He had managed crossed the border undetected. 

All that remained was to discard the leather armour he wore that carried the Demon crest. As he removed it, his heart ached. 

He realized that he no longer belonged.

Often, he had wondered why some would resort to treachery. He had always attributed it to greed but as he branded himself a traitor, he realized that one can never be too sure. 

Desperation- that was his reason. 

But why was he desperate?

He let out a mirthless laugh as he buried his armour. 

All this trouble to save my home. 

Without the armour, he could pass for a peasant.

And I'm not even welcome there anymore. 

He turned around to see the snow-clad mountains for the last time. A heavy emotion weighed on his chest. 

Would he ever be able to go back? 

'Forget it,' he mumbled to himself. 

Forget the land that I grew up on?  The land I chose to serve till my last breath?

Tears flooded his eyes as his hand became fists. 'There's no turning back now.' 

Forget?

He walked on. Flashes of his life appeared before his eyes. He was leaving a part of him behind. 

Forget?

It was painful.

'Forget.'

He dragged himself toward the path that led to the gates of the mighty fort. If he were to die, he would wish to be buried in the place he called 'home'.

But who would honour your wishes? 

A lost cause. 

That's what he was. 

'That wicked Queen!' He cursed under his breath. 'I'll kill her. I'll-' 

Loud footfalls caught his attention. Under him, he felt the earth tremble. Furrowing his brows, he turned to see what was approaching. 

In a few moments, he found himself hiding behind the tall grasses gazing upon the Dithrai warriors that marched uniformly toward the fort. 

He realized that his betrayal had prevented a slaughter. 

Even if they had launched an attack on Tracovia, the Dithrai army would have wiped them out. The thought eased his conscience but it was not enough. 

He was about to make a move toward the fort when he noticed that a wagon almost turned over. The warriors collectively held it back from tipping over. 

While they were engrossed in assessing the broken wheel, he noticed a small shadow slip out of the wagon. 

It was so swift that he thought that he was seeing things. 

Was it a spy? Was that how the Demon Queen was able to abduct the Dithrai Prince? 

It has to be!

If he was to earn the trust of the woman the Prince was talking about, he must have something to prove that he was worthy of it. 

He smirked at the coincidence. 

He would find the spy. 

Grinning all the way, in the cover of the tall grasses, he moved toward the dense forest where the shadow had disappeared. 

The air around them was still so it didn't take him long to catch the scent. There was a distinct scent of roses mixed with body odour. He concluded it that was a woman. Letting his nose be the guide, he followed the path she had taken. 

There was a hint of magic in the air too. It wasn't strong so he knew the wielder was not ordinary. Only the most powerful power wielders could cover the traces of their magic. 

He stilled. 

He knew that he could not singlehandedly take on a spy that powerful- but what choice did he have? He was in an unfamiliar domain and had to gain the trust of an unspecified woman! 

The scent led him to the edge of the thickets, toward the gates of the fort. 

Still in hiding, he swore. 

Finding the spy would be difficult in a crowd, he told himself. He could walk through the gates but it was dangerous. One look at his eyes, the Dithrai would kill him. 

It seemed like all the women wanted to play his strings. First, the Demon Queen murdered their King, then Prince Damien believed that he could only be rescued by a mysterious woman whose very name was unknown to Raphael and then the spy... 

'Damn!'

He could use some time to take a break. 

There is no other way, he decided. He had to wait till the night to sneak into the fort. That way, he could conceal his race. 

Indeed, it would serve as a great setback but he valued his life. He had not betrayed his nation to be killed in vain. 

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