A Prince's Errand

by Dan Zangari

  Eruptions resounded around him—explosions of magic. Those eruptions spurned the voices demanding death. He glimpsed barsion at his feet. Flashes burst against the barrier. Walls whizzed past him, and Kaescis felt weightless.

  Muttered curses reached Kaescis’s ears. Was that Laeyit?

  The pain grew more intense. Suddenly, Kaescis couldn’t breathe. It was as if he were drowning.

  And then, blackness.

  Once again, Kaescis was in the white void. A man in a crimson robe shook his head disapprovingly.

  Why does he not like me? Kaescis wondered. He thought he knew that man.

  White light blurred his vision.

  Kaescis opened his eyes. He gasped for breath and struggled to breathe.

  The malicious voices returned, but were soon silenced.

  “… lost them. I hope we can stay ahead.”

  Amid his pain, Kaescis noticed Laeyit above him. She was pulling him through the air. A telekinetic spell…? Kaescis wondered. Walls raced past him, and barsion was at his feet.

  “It shouldn’t be far,” she said.

  Burning filled Kaescis’s lungs. He gasped a muttered cry.

  Laeyit glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, it’s working!” she exclaimed.

  Pain surged through Kaescis, excruciating pain.

  And then, blackness.

  Kaescis blinked, finding himself in that white void.

  “… either way, I will make this work.” The words came from a man in a crimson robe. Kaescis recognized symbols woven into that robe. He knew they were important.

  “You present a unique divergence,” the robed man said. “I always thought your death was necessary, but I now see that I was wrong. I rarely admit that…” he said with a chuckle.

  White light obscured the man, and his words.

  Kaescis opened his eyes. He gasped, but only sucked in a shallow breath. Pain surged across his body. Pain meant that he was alive.

  Give us death… the voices echoed. They continued chanting, but were quelled when he heard her.

  “… around this corner,” Laeyit said. “We’re going to make it, Kaescis!”

  Kaescis sucked in another shallow breath. “Laey—”

  Laeyit spun, her face beaming exuberantly. “Oh, Kaescis!” she cried, “it’s working.” He wheezed and felt faint. “We’re almost to that naval yard,” Laeyit said. She then resumed pulling him.

  Kaescis continued wheezing, watching the hall become an expansive cavern. All the while, he itched. Vessels—large and small—hung on the walls, suspended by beams filled with coursing light—magic. Laeyit’s footsteps echoed loudly.

  Breathing gradually became easier. “Laeyit…” Kaescis groaned.

  A sudden burst of laughter resounded. “Oh, Kaescis!” she exclaimed triumphantly, still laughing.

  Although the pain lingered, Kaescis grinned. He uttered an incantation to muster arpran magic, but he gasped too many times and the spell fizzled. Kaescis wheezed. His lungs burned.

  I’m still alive, he thought, closing his eyes in an attempt to vanquish some of the pain. It was in vain.

  “Your Imperial Highness!” Kaescis knew that voice…

  “Your Imperial Highness!” Faint footfalls echoed toward Kaescis and Laeyit.

  Kaescis struggled to open his eyes. The old Sorothian scholar was running toward them. “Krindal…” he wheezed.

  “Oh, Your Imperial Highness!” Krindal said with a shudder. “What happened to you?”

  Still amused, Laeyit remarked, “Aunok’sha smiles upon us today. We shall escape.”

  Kaescis eyed the scholar and Krindal paled.

  Suddenly, incantations sounded from beyond Kaescis’s feet. He looked down and figures in white armor dashed from a corridor. Blue emblems caught his eye.

  The Sapphire Guard. At their head dashed the Swift-Dagger. The accursed elf charged with unconquerable fury.

  “Come on!” Laeyit shouted, dragging Kaescis—still suspended by telekinetic magic. “We can’t stay here any longer.”

  Krindal dashed beside her, frazzled and wide-eyed. “Did they defeat us?” the scholar asked in a shaky tone.

  “Yes,” Laeyit murmured. “They destroyed the war camp, and the mis’thralim destroyed our vessels.”

  “The what…?”

  Laeyit explained as Kaescis uttered the arpran incantation once again. Green light gathered in his only hand. Kaescis smiled as the spell neared completion. The arpran light washed over Kaescis’s armor, seeping through cracks and holes. Bone reformed, sinews grew, and flesh spread.

  The pain subsided, and Kaescis felt renewed—except for his missing forearm. Anger accompanied flashes of memory—his defeat at the hands of Mister Dol’shir.

  Kill Dol’shir! the voices cried, hunt him!

  Ignoring the voices, Kaescis bellowed, “Laeyit, let me down!”

  She relinquished her spell, gently settling him on his feet. “Here,” she came beside Kaescis. Laeyit held his severed gauntlet in one hand and his helmet in the other. “Hurry, we need to escape.”

  Magic shot from the accursed elves, explosively striking Laeyit’s barsion. Nearly a dozen elves charged behind the Swift-Dagger. Dozens more were pouring into the cavernous naval yard.

  Kaescis took his severed forearm, casting another arpran spell. He held his severed limb to the stub below his elbow, green light surging between them.

  Laeyit reinforced her barsion, casting another spell as more magic from the elves assailed them.

  Fibers of bone, muscle, and flesh re-knit from both limb and stub. The feeling in his hand soon returned, and Kaescis flexed the fingers of his once severed arm.

  The elven mages unleashed another onslaught against Laeyit’s barsion.

  “Done!” Kaescis shouted, grabbing his helmet.

  Laeyit spun. “This way!” she shouted. Kaescis hurried behind her, as did Krindal.

  They dashed farther down the pier, crossing the naval yard with Laeyit’s barsion trailing behind them. Magic erupted against the barrier, but the barsion held.

  “We can take one of those!” Laeyit pointed to a section of the wall which held dozens of tiny ships. Kaescis had only glimpsed them on his first visit to this hidden naval yard.

  Each tiny sea craft was sleek in design, ovoid shaped, and made of a material that would neither rot nor rust. A single window spanned its enclosed forward section, allowing a glimpse into a cabin twice as large as a typical carriage.

  Laeyit hurried down a nearby wharf to the nearest vessel. She touched its exterior and an oval outline formed along its hull—a doorway. All the while, destructive magic erupted against Laeyit’s barsion.

  Kaescis spun, eyeing the accursed Swift-Dagger and his elves bounding across the pier, their weapons gleaming with imbued auras of arcane, elemental, and acidic magics. There were nearly a hundred of them now. But the mis’thralims Laeyit mentioned weren’t around.

  Death… the voices whispered, crying for destruction.

  I could kill them, Kaescis thought, eyeing the elves. He held out his hand to summon his Ko’delish blade, but was jarred by Laeyit’s call.

  “Hurry, Kaescis!”

  Furrowing his brow, Kaescis spun back to the tiny ship. Both Krindal and Laeyit were already inside the vessel. He dashed just as Laeyit’s barsion shattered.

  Once Kaescis was aboard, Laeyit touched the interior hull and the doorway closed, compressing like the gates of the Mindolarn Palace. She lunged to a seat near the window, touching a slanted console that spanned the breadth of the cabin. Light shone from the console, and Laeyit touched the lit surfaces in sweeping patterns. All the while, the vessel shook and explosions flashed across the window.

  “Do you know what you’re doing?” Krindal demanded shakily, standing behind her seat.

  “Yes!” Laeyit barked.

  All the while, Kaescis watched as the elves approached. More arcane orbs flew past the Swift-Dagger, striking the window. Explosions blocked their view, but Laeyit continued
operating the vessel. A blue tint covered the window. Barsion? He wondered. This vessel was a wondrous thing.

  The eruptions dispersed, and the vessel was now in the water.

  Laeyit swiftly piloted the small craft. It zipped through the naval yard and through an illusionary barrier of rock. Soon, they were in open waters, racing toward Dalgilur’s defenses.

  “We’re doomed…” Krindal muttered. “The storm…”

  Kaescis started. “You don’t have your gem?” he demanded warily.

  Krindal shook his head, trembling.

  “Don’t worry about the storm,” Laeyit said reassuringly, glancing wryly to Kaescis. “I’m sure this vessel can withstand it. Or, outrun it,” she said.

  Krindal paled.

  Outrun the storm? Kaescis thought, moving through the cabin. He took the seat beside Laeyit, marveling at the vessel’s nature. Could it really withstand the storm? Laeyit seemed confident it could.

  They hit the barrier a second later, passing through that strange void. They didn’t remain there for long. Soon, they were within the storm.

  Bolts of lightning streaked toward them, but they seemed to miss.

  “See,” Laeyit grinned, “we’re moving too fast.”

  More lightning shot from the clouds, zipping toward the vessel. The bolts, however, disappeared above them.

  Laeyit relaxed, touching the console again. Illusionary light appeared—much like Krindal’s mapping tevisral—forming a localized topography. A golden speck pulsed, moving through the map.

  “What is that?” Krindal asked, leaning over Laeyit’s chair.

  “This vessel,” Laeyit said, sticking her fingers into the map. She reduced the map’s magnification, revealing the entirety of the World’s Frown.

  Interesting, Kaescis thought, narrowing his eyes at the map. They had traveled a considerable distance in only a matter of minutes. At this rate, they would soon be out of the treacherous Frown.

  More lightning flashed outside. Kaescis turned just in time to see a bolt strike the window. The force jolted the vessel. Another bolt hit, knocking Krindal to the decking.

  Both Laeyit and Kaescis grabbed the console, watching as more lightning assailed their ship.

  The map flickered.

  “I knew we were doomed!” Krindal moaned.

  “By the Crimson Eye!” Laeyit cursed, fiddling with the vessel’s controls. Kaescis, however, held on tight. More lightning struck the vessel and parts of the console flickered. Suddenly, the map disappeared.

  “I’ve lost control!” Laeyit screamed.

  The vessel reeled back and forth, and Kaescis fell from his chair. Krindal was also on the decking, huddled and muttering. They continued barreling through the storm. Light within the cabin flickered. The console went dark. Kaescis struggled to get back into his chair, but Laeyit fell, knocking him back to the decking.

  Laeyit looked into his eyes, frightened. She had made a gross miscalculation, and it showed on her face. Laeyit wrapped her arms around Kaescis’s broken armor, trembling. The lightning persisted, bolts building upon each other. Krindal wailed again, but Kaescis ignored him.

  After several more bolts, the window cracked. Laeyit winced, gripping Kaescis tighter.

  We won’t make it, Kaescis thought. They would succumb to the storm. Both Krindal and Laeyit would die… But Kaescis—he would be doomed to perpetual death and rebirth within the World’s Frown. It would become his prison… The thought enraged him.

  Lightning constantly assailed them, and Laeyit began weeping. Kaescis held her close and gazed at the breaking window. The window shattered. Thunder erupted. Lightning flashed. Rain and wind gushed into the cabin.

  Kaescis closed his eyes, gripping Laeyit tightly. And then, the tumultuous storm ceased. Only the wind remained.

  Kaescis squinted, shielding his face with a gauntleted hand. Blue skies hung above the speeding vessel.

  “We made it!” Laeyit laughed. She pushed herself up and struggled against the wind, climbing into her seat. Her laughter, however, died.

  “What’s wrong?” Kaescis gritted his teeth.

  “The storm damaged the controls,” Laeyit shouted over the wind. “But we’re still being propelled.”

  “What does that mean?” Krindal muttered.

  “We’ll keep going until we crash,” Laeyit barked over the wind.

  Kaescis furrowed his brow. He noted an island off the portside bow, but it soon passed. We are moving fast, Kaescis thought. Too fast. Based on the wind and the speed at which they passed the island, they were most likely traveling twenty or thirty times faster than any ship in the Mindolarnian Navy. At that speed, crashing would be beyond fatal—unless barsion protected them.

  “If we are still on our previous heading, we’ll most assuredly hit the Aegalian Peninsula,” Laeyit added.

  “In the Forbidden Lands?!” Krindal blurted.

  “At this rate we’ll probably be there in less than an hour,” Laeyit shouted, looking to Kaescis.

  “When we spot land, we need to cast our barsions,” Kaescis said, then turned to the broken window. Crashing would be the least of their concerns. Surviving the Forbidden Lands, that was another matter entirely.

  I know you will say these perils are a by-product of the degeneracy left over from the Karthar incident. Oh, how wrong are you!

  Cheers erupted as the Promised Maiden cleared the storm of the World’s Frown.

  We made it! Cornar breathed a sigh of relief.

  A hand gripped Cornar’s shoulder, and he turned to see Igan. The wizard clutched a sloglien sack. Igan didn’t speak, but the expression on his face asked, “What shall we do with this?”

  The tomes, Cornar thought, recalling the sack’s contents. He had nearly forgotten about them in their hasty flight. But now Cornar felt drawn to those tomes—it was the same irresistible pull he felt when gazing at the crater on Dalgilur. He remembered the words, “This is your destiny, Cornar Dol’shir…” spoken by that booming voice in his mind—the voice of that being from his dreams.

  Cornar suddenly knew that those texts were more important than anything else he or his men had uncovered on this expedition. It was his fate to claim them.

  But why me? Cornar wondered. From what he had gleaned from the tome, the texts would better suit a Keeper of Truth and Might.

  But the Keepers had vanished. Solidin had claimed as much.

  “Cor…” Igan whispered, bringing Cornar back to reality.

  Cornar blinked once, then scanned the main deck. His eyes fell upon Jahevial at the portside rail, talking with Aron. Though Jahevial had helped defeat Kaescis, Cornar felt he should keep this find from the scholar. After all, Jahevial was loyal to Grandmaster Alacor and would claim the discovery for the Necrotic Order.

  Cornar could not allow that. “We need to get that to my cabin,” Cornar whispered. “And we can’t let Jahevial see it.” Igan nodded.

  Kalder approached quietly. The brawny warrior must have eyed the subtle exchange. “Do you need help?” Kalder whispered.

  Cornar scanned the main deck once again before answering. “I think we’ll be fine. Just keep an eye on the others. I’ll be in my cabin, if you need me.” Kalder nodded silently.

  “Too bad I can’t conceal this,” Igan whispered. With the tazerin around he wouldn’t be able to muster any magic.

  “We’ll be fine,” Cornar said, stepping away from the bowsprit.

  Together, they wove around the starboard side of the ship, unnoticed. The wounded were resting, and the crew was busy adjusting the rigging. Cornar heard commands from Emila—Salisar’s first mate—to adjust for a northwest heading, indicating that the vessel would sail around the World’s Frown.

  The stairs leading below deck were darker than usual. Igan glanced to Cornar. “I hadn’t considered the lightstones wouldn’t work,” the wizard said with a sigh.

  “Let’s hope they have something else aboard to light the ship…”

  Faint candlelight flickered alo
ng the main corridor of the lower deck. Two of the crewmen were busy replacing the lightstones in the wall sconces with thick candles. The candles were wider than they were tall.

  As they approached the crewmen, Igan stepped ahead of Cornar, moving the sack between them.

  “I do hope you have enough candles for the cabins,” Igan said.

  “Oh… uh,” a crewman muttered. “I don’t know.”

  “You can’t expect us to be stuck in the dark,” Igan retorted. The crewman looked sheepish, then handed the wizard several candles.

  Igan tipped his head appreciatively. “Thank you,” he said. They continued toward Cornar’s cabin, and Igan handed the sloglien sack to Cornar.

  “See if you can round up some more candles,” Cornar said, opening the door to his cabin.

  “I will,” Igan said with a nod, looking back down the dim corridor. “We’ll need plenty. You’re not the only one who wants to read.” The wizard glanced to the sack, indicating his interest in the tomes.

  Cornar grinned. “I’ll let you start once I’m finished with the first one.”

  “Much appreciated,” Igan said with a wink. “Now I’m going to have a word with the captain. Hopefully, she’ll honor Krindal’s charter. I’d hate to arrive back home with a surprise bill.” The wizard hurried back down the dim corridor, leaving Cornar alone.

  Cornar entered his cabin, set the sloglien sack on the bed, and then went to work lighting a candle. The sconce on the wall wasn’t suited for anything but lightstones. It was a tight enough fit, and the candles were squat enough so they wouldn’t tilt. But there was no basin to catch the wax, which would undoubtedly drip onto the decking. Unfortunately, it was the only suitable place for the candle.

  With his cabin lit, Cornar shut the door and locked it. He moved to the bed, emptying the sack. He laid the tomes by his pillow. Then he removed the cases, one by one. Each was rectangular, with a porous texture—almost like a scroll case. One of the cases, however, was cracked.

  Ignoring the damaged case, Cornar inspected the one nearest the tomes. The case was sealed shut, with a shallow groove near one end. How do I open this? Cornar wondered, then fingered a tiny lever by the groove. A click accompanied the lever’s movement, and Cornar twisted the case’s end, opening it.