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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lJWEzdB06gU
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[b]Chapter 14: Arthur[/b]

The sweet, feminine giggle tingled through the empty hallway, ricocheting off the walls and seemed to emit from all directions at once. He wasn't sure where to start looking so he decided to continue forward through the vast, desolated hall with echoing footsteps. Grey and white marble pillars surrounded him on both sides and colourful windows decorated the walls behind them, letting in the sunlight rays from the outside world. He felt all too light, almost naked, but he confirmed that he  was still dressed in his nobleman's ebon coat, grey trousers and high leather boots. The sensation was an odd and he twitched a frown but pressed onwards. He heard the high-pitched titter again, now around the corner on his right, leading out into onto a terrace. He stepped out and was met by a stunning, surreal view. Endless, spiraling towers rose up from an infinite highland that stretched as far as the eye could see with forested mountains in the far distance. He noticed that he was inside a similar structure himself, though larger, almost like a castle of sorts. But whoever he pursued was not out here.

[i]"Arthur?"[/i] The sweet voice piped up again. Arthur turned on his heels only to be greeted by nothing, but he could hear vague high-heel steps ascending some stairs from the direction he had come from. He left the terrace and went back into the hallway and turned left this time. A stairwell circled up to another floor and he swiftly climbed the steps, ending up in a narrow corridor that branched off into every direction. Guest rooms, he thought to himself.

[i]"This way, Arthur... I'm over here."[/i] The voice echoed again from everywhere, but Arthur knew exactly which way to go, as if he was being guided by an unseen hand. After navigating through the corridors he entered another large, empty room. Two thrones stood vacant on one side of the room with a single, enormous window behind them, granting an awe-inspiring view of the mystic landscape beyond the castle. He caught a figure moving between a set of pillars in the corner of his eye and twisted slightly on the spot to face it. He could now see the young, beautiful woman dancing around the pillars, dressed in a simple white nightgown with long, fiery hair flowing behind her as she spun on her heels, moving from pillar to pillar, laughing. Arthur twitched a smile and went a bit closer, watching as the exquisite woman peeked out at him from behind a pillar, only to disappear behind it again with an echoing titter. He went closer and rounded the pillar, but she was no longer there. He knitted his brows. How could he have missed her? He felt his heart skip as someone suddenly grabbed his left hand. He looked sideways and saw that it was her, and he could make out a coy smile behind her crimson tresses. [i]"This way, Arthur."[/i], she said and tugged him along to an open balcony with a majestic overview of the highlands. He smiled again. Everything was perfect. He would stay here in this castle for eternity, with her.

A violent crack in the air stole his attention. The sky and its radiant sunlight suddenly turned to dark clouds and thunder, and he could see large, flaming rocks fall from the sky. Meteors. Crashing down into the highlands and causing unimaginable destruction. Arthur threw out his left arm to shield the young woman, but all he swept through was air. A cry shrieked from behind him and he turned around, spotting her in the hands of three hooded men, viciously dragging her away with crooked daggers in their hands. He felt fear and fury build up inside him and he took a step forward, ready to storm across the room at the assailants. He was abruptly stopped in his tracks as the pillars on both sides begun to collapse inwards, and the roof above came crashing down. He saw the woman free one of her arms and reach out with her hand, crying out his name. But she was quickly cut away from his vision as rubble of stone and marble blocked his path. The ground below his feet cracked apart. He fell.


Arthur opened his eyes and inhaled sharply. He had been sweating but was promptly met by a chilling breeze upon his cheeks that had snuck through his tent. He swept aside the fur blankets and sat up at the edge of the bed. He clutched a hand against his soaked tunic but gave it little thought. He reached out for the chainmail and leather vest hanging over the back of an adjacent chair and dragged them over his head and torso. Finally he grabbed the swordbelt and strapped it around his waist and plonked down his feet into his boots. On his way out of the tent he grabbed his cloak and threw it around him.

The dream had left him in a bitter mood and he tried his best to dismiss the vivid images in his head by scouring through a handful of reports. He sat by his desk outside the tent and from here he had a good view of the expanding camp below the hill he was situated on. At some point in the past days a rider from Lowburg had arrived with a letter from the king, instructing Arthur to cancel the mass mobilisation and instead just rally the southern forces in the Northlands. Now they were all here, near ten thousand men, and Arthur could begin preparations to march them to Lowburg's rescue.

He sighed and folded a document together, putting it down on his desk. He sniffled and pushed himself up from his seat and made his way down the hill and into the camp. He stopped by the chief quartermaster's supply tent and glanced inside. There were many more tents like this throughout the camp, destined to house the necessary supplies for such a large host. He turned around at the voice behind him.

"Sir?", the chief quartermaster inquired. He was a middle-aged man with more than enough years under his belt with handling logistics. He held a board in his right hand, scribbled from top to bottom.

"Quartermaster. How goes the preparations?"

"Very well, sir. We have received the majority of our supplies and are just waiting for a few caravans from Lord's Crest to arrive. They are transporting extra pairs of socks, shirts and so forth. Don't want our boys to suffer trenchfoot or anything, eh sir?"

Arthur sub-conciously nodded and gave the man a pat on his shoulder. "Carry on, quartermaster. We'll march as soon the last caravans are here."
He strolled back to his tent and sat down in the chair with a frown while rubbing his temple with a few digits. He had already been gone long enough and wasn't sure if Lowburg was still standing at this point and if the king had perished along with it if so. He huffed a breath and leered out over the camp again. If Raylia had triumphed at Lowburg, he had the means to make them pay dearly.