Bastian travelled on, pushing the brown horse near to its limit.
He glanced down at the shaking form of Hydrangea, her lips had been a dangerous shade of purple before he'd put his mask on her. And her pale face was whiter than the snow surrounding him. Her delicate fingers clutched his cloak as though she was in pain.
The wind blew past him at irate speeds as he drove the horse onward. The animal had somehow survived the harsh weather of Viskogorny, he could hardly believe it.
His chest swelled with relief and pure joy when he stepped off of the ice fields and onto the rock at the base of a mountain. Just above him he could see a path that led to Domkorolei.
Hydrangea suddenly clutched at his outer shirt and he looked down to see her silverescent eyes staring up at him, "I-I-I'm sorry." Her eyes held such remorse.
He grasped her cold, clammy hand, "No, no. It's alright. You have every reason to be angry at me." He said in an attempt to soothe that heart wrenching sadness in her eyes.
She shook her head against his chest, "No… not anymore…" It sounded as thought she had more to say but he felt her hand release her grip. Her face was still tense with emotion and her entire body still shook from the cold.
His gaze became determined and he pressed onward. The horse was still miraculously strong enough to climb the ever steepening slope.
Hydrangea began muttering things in her sleep, he stroked her freezing strands of hair but she only seemed to grow more restless.
"Halt!" A voice sounded from above him, in the language native of the country.
He pulled the reins and Tree drew to a stop. He looked up and could see nothing but rock.
"Who comes here?" The same voice asked and Bastian circled the horse.
He cleared his throat and answered in Viskogornian, "I am the Sovereign of Cadarama and I've come to seek an audience with Tzar Matvey of Viskogorny."
He was met with deafening silence. His heart pounded with anticipation. They'd come so far, so far. He would not be turned back. He looked to Hydrangea, he would not be turned back.
His head shot up when he heard the sound of chains rattling and a few voices shouting.
His brows rose as he beheld that the rock was parting and separating to become two doors hewn of rough stone.
A group of six guards poured forth from the gates and Bastian backed up a few feet, clutching to Hydrangea a little closer.
"What brings you here?" One of them asked. Their armour was distinctly different from that of Cadaraman armour; the sheet metal was fastened overtop of furs and a tunic. The armour had placed overtop of it a thick scarf that was tucked underneath the helmet.
Tree shifted as Bastian pulled the reins higher and answered in the same language, "I come to seek audience with Tzar Matvey."
The man tilted his head to look down at Hydrangea, who was shivering violently, "What's with the woman?"
"We were attacked by a furred seal out on the fields." Bastian answered, becoming impatient with their stalling.
A mutter arose at his words and the man's eyes widened. He regained his rough demeanour though and then said, "We will tell Tzar that you are here."
Bastian nodded and they led him into the gates which swiftly shut behind him. His brows lifted again when he saw what lay behind the doors.
Spread beneath him was a city of grandeur. He'd come to Viskogorny when he was a youth but now that he observed it once more, he saw that it had grown much. The castle that belonged to the Tzar stood proudly in the centre of the city, surrounded by buildings of similar architecture. And behind it to the farthest reaches of the large valley was the palace.
Two of the soldiers mounted their armoured steeds. They began to lead him down a path that was partly cobbled and partly overtaken by the mountain.
He looked back down at Hydrangea in worry. She had not stopped shivering and… he checked her forehead, she was now freakishly warm. He glanced at the two men that were directing him.
With a smirk, because he couldn't help but feel excited at the prospect of what he was to do, he dug his heels into the horse and it took off like a bolt. He heard shouts from behind him but paid them no heed.
He would get an audience with the Tzar, and he would get Hydrangea someplace warm. She grasped his shirt once more as he sped through the cobbled streets. The looming, steepled houses of Domkorolei rushed past him as he moved swiftly through the streets.
A few pedestrians jumped out of the way and others he swerved to get past. The inside of the city had practically no guards or soldiers and luckily it seemed as though none saw him as a threat.
Although it appeared as though the castle was well defended. He was forced to pull Tree to a halt when a line of armoured men formed up before the castle gates.
"Halt!" They yelled and Bastian did so, and Tree pawed the ground, his head was lowered.
Bastian then realized that he was panting from the rush of adrenaline that he'd felt from the run. He cleared his throat and announced his identity once more, "I am Sovereign Bastian of Cadarama. I've come to speak with your Tzar. Now let me pass." He lowered his tone to a more threatening decibel.
The soldiers held their ground and after a few minutes of this standoff a voice yelled from on the wall, "Let him pass! The Tzar accepts the Sovereign!"
Bastian felt hope and pride surge in his chest and he glanced down at Hydrangea. He wished she was conscious to witness this. After all these months, they were now fulfilling their mission.
He brushed her hair aside and was painfully reminded of the yellow bruise on her temple. He handed his reins to a servant in a red tunic paired with a green scarf. The young looking lad grabbed them and led the horse into the castle yard.
As soon as he came to a stope Bastian leapt down from the horse with Hydrangea's shivering form in his arms. He kissed her warm, clammy forehead and walked to the imposing castle doors.
He stood in front of them and the two soldiers at either side hurriedly pulled the tall doors open. A few servants led him through dark hallways lit only by candles.
He walked with long strides, Hydrangea clutching his shirt as she shivered against his chest, her teeth chattering loudly.
'We're almost there. Almost there.'
Arriving at another large set of doors, he waited as they were pulled open with a loud groaning. He exhaled through his nose as he saw the grand hall come into view.
He maintained his calm facade as he strode into the hall, although all he wanted to do was rush in and ask for the Tzar's help. He would not lower himself to that, especially in public.
He met the Tzar's blue gaze and waited for him to speak. His heart pounding. His breath controlled.
They were here, in Viskogorny.