The Prince Warriors

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by Priscilla Shirer


  Suddenly there was a grinding noise, like a garbage disposal trying to chew up something way too big. Evan jumped away, startled, and whipped around to see his brother standing there next to him, completely dry and dressed the same as him. It was as if the garbage disposal had coughed him up, all in one piece. Xavier had a goofy look on his face, like he had no idea what just happened. Made sense. Evan didn’t know what was going on either. But he’d gotten there first, so for once he had something to brag about.

  “’Bout time you showed up,” he said confidently, so Xavier wouldn’t know how rattled he was on the inside. And then, under his breath: “Chicken.”

  Xavier didn’t respond to the jibe. He was too busy looking around in slack-jawed wonder at the fantastic glowing formations of this world in which they’d found themselves.

  “Is it real?” he asked finally, as if he needed help making up his mind. “Are we underwater?”

  “We went into the water, but we’re not in it anymore,” Evan said thoughtfully. He’d had more time to work this out. “It’s like we went right through the water and ended up here. Underneath.”

  “Under the water? All dry? And in different clothes?”

  “Yeah, cool,” Evan said. “But hey, if it’s a dream, anything can happen, right?”

  “What are those?” Xavier said, pointing to the flecks of light dancing in random patterns around them, some almost infinitesimal and others as big as dandelion puffs. Evan reached out to grab one, but it darted away.

  “Welcome to Ahoratos, young princes.”

  Both boys jumped. An enormous voice filled the chamber, making the stalactites and stalagmites shiver. The little figure in the purple robe was before them again, appearing from nowhere, radiating light, its face still in shadow.

  “You are safe here.”

  They assumed it was the creature that had spoken, yet the voice seemed to come from everywhere in the room, like many different echoes converging all at once. How could a thing so small have such a big voice? And yet, there was something large about this creature, despite its diminutive size. Something sort of—regal too. Something that made both Xavier and Evan believe what it was saying. We’re safe.

  Evan approached the creature cautiously, hoping to get a better look. It didn’t actually move, yet wherever Evan stepped, its face remained hidden.

  “Are you a troll?” he asked slowly.

  “Evan!” said Xavier, embarrassed. Evan ignored him.

  “An elf?”

  “I. Am. Ruwach.” Each word was like its own sentence, which made it seem all the more important.

  “Roo-who?” Evan asked, his nose wrinkling.

  “Ru-wach,” said the purple trollish, elfish creature in a measured tone. “I am your guide in Ahoratos.”

  “Ru-wok.” Evan repeated the name, slowly, as if trying to sort out what it meant. Then he turned to his brother and whispered, “Definitely not a troll.”

  Xavier spoke up, hoping the elf-troll-whatever-it-was-creature hadn’t heard his brother’s comment. “Uh, sir? Would you mind just telling us—where we are? And what we’re doing here?”

  “You are in the Cave,” Ruwach said in the same deliberate, booming voice.

  Evan chuckled. “Good name for a cave,” he said under his breath. Xavier nudged him.

  “You must be properly equipped before you can go further. Follow me.” Ruwach turned slowly, the glowing emblem of Ahoratos on the back of his robe clearly visible to the boys. Then all at once he took off down one of the dark passageways. As he went, the walls and ceiling lit up with purple lights, similar to the purple leaves in the dark forest, revealing shining objects on either side.

  Xavier wasn’t sure he wanted to go any further. Evan, however, was starting to relax, as if ready for an adventure. It was, after all, only a dream.

  “Armor!” Evan cried, for the objects in the passageway looked very much like armor. “Wow! Sweet!” The sight of the armor made the last of his fear melt away. “Come on, Xavi!”

  He dashed off after the smallish, not-a-trollish creature named Ruwach.

  “Wait!” Xavier said. “Do you really think it’s safe?”

  “Hey,” Evan replied. “We’re in a cave, under a lake, with a little purple dude that’s not a troll. What could be safer?”

  * * *

  Xavier hurried to follow his little brother, still not sure if this was the right thing to do, but seeing no other option. The tunnel twisted and turned, sometimes splitting into several more tunnels, sometimes sloping downhill unexpectedly. The strange little creature named Ruwach appeared to be in a big hurry, but the boys didn’t have trouble keeping up with him. Xavier felt that he was moving much faster than his legs could actually carry him.

  As the passages lit up, the boys saw that there were hundreds, maybe thousands of suits of armor displayed on either side of them—breastplates, helmets, belts, boots, shields, swords—all arranged on the walls of the Cave. The armor came in endless varieties and appeared to be from many different times in history. In fact, each set was clearly marked with a date on a small silver placard below it: 1649, 1875, 1947, 2013 . . . And the dates went well into the future. There were pieces made of leather, iron, wood, bronze, and even some odd-colored material Xavier could not identify. Some were very plain, and some had intricate engravings in the breastplates. The helmets were all different shapes and sizes too—Roman, Greek, Viking—and some so fantastic he had never seen them in any history book.

  When they were younger, Xavier and Evan and their friends from their old neighborhood used to play Castles and Kings in the basement of their apartment building. The basement was dark and shadowy, with crumbling walls that looked to them like the dank stone walls of a real castle. They staged mock tournaments (using skateboards for horses) and epic battles with swords they’d made out of yardsticks and old pieces of baseboard trim they’d found lying around. They made breastplates out of cardboard and scraps of aluminum foil.

  But this armor—this armor—looked real. Xavier longed to stop and touch it, just to make sure, but they were moving too fast.

  Next to each suit of armor was a heavy door fastened with a large padlock. What was behind those doors? Whoever heard of doors in a cave anyway? Xavier suspected there was something very important and interesting behind them—he longed to know what it was.

  He was so busy looking at the armor and the doors that he almost crashed into Ruwach, who had stopped suddenly in the middle of the tunnel. Evan wasn’t looking either and slammed into Xavier’s back before sprawling on the ground with a yelp. Xavier turned around to help him up.

  “Thanks for the warning,” Evan muttered.

  “Watch where you’re going next time.”

  Then Ruwach slowly stretched out his arms—Xavier hadn’t realized he had arms. They were far longer than the rest of him, but draped in purple so his hands were not visible. He was pointing toward the armor beside him, which lit up as if in a spotlight. Evan crept closer to get a better look.

  “Hey! That’s my name!” Evan said in surprise, pointing to a placard where his full name and birth date were written in fancy gold lettering. “And there’s yours, Xavi! They have our names on them! And our birthdays too! Awesome!”

  Xavier looked and saw his own name and birth date in the same gold lettering next to another set of armor. Wow. There it was. His very own armor.

  But the armor—it didn’t look like armor at all! At least not like any kind Xavier had ever seen before. The breastplate was white, made of a smooth plastic-looking material, and vaguely triangular, like some sort of space-age dinner platter. There was a large round orb in the center, kind of purply-gray. A wide belt hung just below the breastplate, plain white without even a buckle.

  The boots sat on their own little shelf at the bottom. They were white and of the same material as the breastplate—very smooth and plain.
Beside the breastplate and belt was a large golden shield with that weird emblem in the center. A white rounded helmet, not unlike a bike helmet but sleeker, with less padding and a curvy edge, sat just above the breastplate.

  Hanging above all the pieces, just out of reach, was a long, elegant sword, the tiny emblem of Ahoratos engraved in the golden hilt.

  Both boys stared at their armor, examining every piece. Before either could ask another question, Ruwach spoke.

  “When you come to Ahoratos, you must put on your armor as quickly as possible. You cannot be here without it. You can always find it in the Cave, and you must enter the Cave through the Water. It is the only way in. Do you understand?”

  The boys stared blankly at Ruwach for a moment or two.

  “This doesn’t look like real armor,” said Evan finally, clearly disappointed. Xavier was thinking the same thing, but he never would have spoken it aloud.

  “You will never have victory in Ahoratos unless you are equipped,” Ruwach continued, ignoring Evan’s comment.

  “But this is just a dream, right? Just an imaginary place,” Xavier said with a knowing nod, trying to convince himself.

  Ruwach tilted his hooded head down and cocked it to the left a little. His right arm rose to chest level and rested where his heart might have been. “Ahoratos is the real world,” he said. “And here, you are who you’re always supposed to be. You are Prince Warriors.”

  “Prince Warriors?” Evan perked up. “Prince Warriors! Like in my book! Cool!”

  “I think you might have the wrong people,” said Xavier, shaking his head. “I mean, we’re just kids. We aren’t princes. And we’re definitely not warriors.”

  “Here in Ahoratos, you are,” Ruwach said. His voice was softer now, almost whispery, although Xavier could not quite figure out which direction it came from. “The world you live in day to day—that world is but a shadow of the Real World. This is the world where the battles rage, where your real enemy lies.”

  Evan’s ears perked up—he suddenly remembered the talk he’d had with his mom before he went to bed. Battles . . . an enemy . . . an enemy who was not Xavier.

  “What kind of battle?” Evan asked suddenly.

  “You like battles, do you?” Ruwach’s voice had changed, become softer and yet more definitive. Evan knew he was talking about the battles between his brother and him, like the fight on the dock. He glanced at Xavier, who was looking at the ground, as if he knew it too.

  “You must learn who your real enemy is,” Ruwach said, his voice even softer. Evan felt a chill at his tone. Your real enemy . . .

  “Up there, above the water—the trees and stuff . . .” Evan whispered. “What was all that?”

  “What did you see?” Ruwach asked.

  “It got darker and darker, and the trees were falling, and the whole world was falling apart—”

  “Chaos,” Xavier said suddenly, remembering the word he’d looked up earlier that evening. Tumult. Chaos. The Riot Act.

  “Chaos is the work of the enemy,” Ruwach responded with a nod of his hood, as if he approved of Xavier’s assessment. “The enemy will do everything in his power to distract you, to discourage you, to delay you, to defeat you. He is always near in Ahoratos. This is his dwelling place. The evidence of his schemes is much more apparent in Ahoratos than it is on earth, which is why you must be properly equipped when you are in this realm. The victory you achieve here will determine the outcome of the battles you face there.”

  “What’s behind those doors?” Evan asked. He’d started nosing around. “Is it a dungeon or something? Can we see?”

  “In good time.”

  “What about the sword? Can I try it out? It looks pretty heavy—”

  “Belt first.” Ruwach gestured toward the belt that hung on the wall. Evan reached out to touch it.

  “No—” Ruwach said, but too late. As Evan’s fingers grazed the belt, there was a flash of light and he was propelled backward and knocked to the ground. He let out a soft “Ow!” and winced in pain.

  “You okay?” Xavier asked, rushing over to help him.

  “I’m fine,” Evan said, turning away from his brother and shaking out his hand as if he’d been burned. He struggled to his feet. “No big deal.”

  Xavier backed away, looking at his brother with concern. Although he seemed okay, he’d been knocked back pretty hard. And what was that flash? It must have hurt.

  “The armor must be received. I must give it to you, then it is your responsibility to put it on and use it,” Ruwach said. He took the belt from the wall and held it up. Strange symbols appeared on its plain surface. As Evan and Xavier stared, the symbols began to pulse and shift, becoming a word:

  T-R-U-T-H

  “Why does it say truth?” Evan asked.

  “The belt holds everything together.”

  Ruwach offered no explanation for this cryptic response. He handed the boys their belts. Xavier took his, not sure what to do with it. There was no way to buckle it on. He waited for instructions, but Ruwach said nothing. He looked at Evan, who held the belt this way and that, trying to figure out how it was supposed to fit. Finally, Xavier gave up and wrapped it around his waist, like he would a belt for a bathrobe. As he did, the belt seemed to take on a life of its own, snaking around his body and conforming to his size. The two ends fused together so perfectly that the edges were invisible.

  “Whoa,” said Evan. “Sweet.” He was eager to try it himself—he wrapped his belt around his waist, and it fitted to him just as Xavier’s had. He glanced at Xavier and grinned as if to say: Dream, right?

  Ruwach then took down Xavier’s breastplate and handed it to him. Xavier looked at it doubtfully. It didn’t have any straps to buckle. But then, neither did the belt, and that worked. So he placed it against his chest. Instantly he felt it changing, shaping, conforming to his size, just as the belt had. The breastplate stuck to him like it had been sewn on, fitting perfectly. He waited for it to do something, for the orb to light up or flash or display a word. But nothing happened. He was a little disappointed.

  “This thing will never stop an arrow or a sword blow,” Evan said after putting on his own breastplate. “It’s not even metal. It’s like plastic or something. Plus, it’s too small! Doesn’t even cover my whole middle. What’s it good for?” He looked at the non-trollish guy, hoping for a real answer this time. But there wasn’t one.

  Xavier didn’t say so, but he sort of agreed. The breastplate seemed more like a nifty fashion accessory—something a futuristic space ninja would wear—than a functional piece of armor.

  Maybe it changes when you go into battle, Xavier thought. He hunted around on the breastplate for an On switch. He didn’t see one.

  “Boots.” Ruwach handed both boys their boots, which they hurried to put on. Despite not having any laces or buckles, the boots slid on easily, conforming to the boys’ feet just as the belts had done. They were pretty comfortable and even had ventilation slats by the ankles, so it was easier to walk. Evan took a few practice steps, but he wasn’t overly impressed.

  “Great. Now do we get the swords?”

  “Evan,” Xavier warned.

  “You have everything you need,” said Ruwach finally. And that was it.

  Ruwach moved toward them. “Remember, these three pieces you must wear at all times when in Ahoratos. Do you understand?”

  “Okay, but what about the swords?” Evan asked. He was trying hard not to sound impolite, but it didn’t seem right that they should get these three pieces only and not the rest. Did Ruwach expect them to go into battle half-dressed?

  “Battles in Ahoratos do not look the same as battles on earth, therefore they cannot be fought the same,” Ruwach said, as if he had read Evan’s mind. “That is something you will learn, Prince Evan. You too, Prince Xavier.”

  “But why us?” Xavier asked. “W
hy are we here?”

  “You were chosen,” Ruwach paused, and the cadence of his words changed. Slower. Sadder. “Many are chosen, but few come.”

  “Maybe they would if the armor looked a little more—armor-ish,” Evan said sarcastically. He glanced at Xavier, laughing a little, but stopped when he saw the disgusted look on his brother’s face. Xavier let out a long breath. He wished Evan wouldn’t say everything that came to his mind.

  “So what do we do now?” Evan continued, in a less sarcastic tone of voice. “Hang around here until this enemy comes along?”

  “You will soon see. First, we must go and get the others.” Ruwach spun swiftly and began to do that funny walk-run-waddle thing he did down the winding tunnel.

  “What others?” cried Evan as the boys took off after Ruwach. “You mean there are more?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Water in the Desert

  Evan and Xavier sped down more tunnels until they found themselves once again in the room where they’d first entered the Cave. They didn’t see any others there—nothing moved but the floating balls of light.

  Ruwach didn’t speak but unfolded his long arms to the ceiling, his hooded head facing up as well. The boys looked up, wondering what Ruwach was looking at (assuming he had actual eyes). They couldn’t see anything except rows of glowing blue stalactites. Then Ruwach began rotating his arms in a slow, steady circle. As he did, the stalactites grew faint, transparent, until they disappeared altogether, revealing a hole in the top of the Cave, like a window. The boys stared, wondering what it was they were seeing through this “window.” At first it was just colors: white and red. And then the shapes became clearer—the white became blowing, drifting sand. And the red became a vast, unbroken sky.

  “Whoa,” Evan said under his breath. “Is it like TV? Or is it real?”

  “Is that Ahoratos?” asked Xavier. “It looks way different from what we saw.”

  “Yeah,” said Evan. “No trees . . . just sand.”

 

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