Beyond the Gate four boys were preparing for their first Hunt. The sun was a globe of gold and the future full of promise. At that moment there was no Beast, no danger, and the Aenir were a distant threat.
Gaelen turned back to stare down into the valley where the camp-fires ‘blazed and the cairn was nearing completion. Below lay the bodies of the fallen, Highlander and Outlander together in death. Among them were Onic and Lennox. The giant had died swinging his massive club of iron and lead as the enemy swarmed forward. Onic had fallen beside him.
Now only Gaelen was left. ‘Farewell, my Queen,’ he whispered.
A shadow moved to his right. He turned and there was Caswallon, leaning on his staff of oak, his robes of velvet shimmering in the moonlight.
‘And so it ends,’ said Caswallon, his wispy white beard swirling in the breeze like wood-smoke.
‘No, it begins,’ said Gaelen, pointing at the cave.
Caswallon nodded. ‘And now you will be King, Gaelen. How does that sit with you?’
Gaelen pushed his iron-grey hair back from his eyes, ‘I’d give it all up to be young again.’
Caswallon turned and gestured to the Gate. ‘But you are young, Gaelen. Through that Gateway is a youth, who with his friends is walking the mountains. Even now the wind is in his hair, and the future is before him, bright and golden. Just a few steps away. Would you like to see him?’
Gaelen smiled. ‘Let us leave him to his life,’ he said, taking Caswallon by the arm and leading him down the mountainside.