Now he was gone.
Heldon felt alone for the first time in his life.
Going to the throne, he hesitated then sat down and looked at the crown in his hands. His fingers traced the carving in gold along the edges, and he realized how thin this band truly was. Upon the brow of his father and that of his brother it gave a majestic and proud appearance, but here in Heldon’s hands it seemed feeble and lifeless. How could such a thing hold such grand power?
He remembered when they were boys, Honroth and Heldon once snuck into their father’s chambers and saw the crown there on the table. Their father and mother were elsewhere, so the boys crept up to the crown. Heldon reached out to touch it, but Honroth whacked his hand away and told him not to. Even back then Honroth utterly respected the importance of the crown as though he knew one day he would wear it and carry all the burdens it accompanied.
This memory brought a tear to Heldon’s eyes, but he smiled as well.
With a deep breath, he lifted it up and carefully placed it upon his own head.
But he still did not feel like a king but rather an impostor. Ah, he was the identical twin of King Honroth. If he grew out his goatee a bit and put on Honroth’s clothes and assumed his posture and his mannerisms, he could pass at the king himself; they could say it was Prince Heldon who had been buried this day and not King Honroth. Heldon knew he could take over his brother’s life, walk in his shadow, and disappear altogether so Cuskelom would be at peace with its new leader, but that would require him sacrificing all he had and all he knew to build a secret and live a life that was not his own.
“I would rather you not become Honroth.”
The voice snapped Heldon’s gaze to the side of the room in time to see his youngest brother morph from the shadows. Heldon realized his little brother carried the same aura as Honroth and recognized the presence of a weary soul burdened with greatness, yet where Honroth stood grand as a king, Lorrek’s prominence came from his power as a sorcerer.
Lorrek regarded Heldon as he crossed the floor as if measuring him, and Heldon realized he still wore the crown, so he yanked it off his head. “I didn’t mean—”
“I know.” Lorrek stilled him with a slight gesture as he came to stand before his brother who sat on the throne. He had touched upon Heldon’s thoughts and knew what he was thinking before Lorrek revealed himself, yet Lorrek kept this to himself. He folded his hands before him and nodded. “You are right to wonder what it is like to wear the crown. It is as much yours as any of ours.”
Heldon shook his head. “You should wear it.” He thrust it out to Lorrek, but his younger brother smiled at him—almost humored.
“And why should I?” He tilted his head and lifted his brows.
“Because...” Heldon didn’t know what to say, but he realized Lorrek still waited for an answer. Clearing his throat, he brought the crown back to himself and dangled it on the armrest of the throne then rested his arm on the armrest itself, holding onto the crown lest it fall and clatter to the ground. “Because...” He shifted his hazel eyes back to Lorrek. “You know what it means to have great power. You know how important it is to balance it and to make difficult decisions for the greater good. You are wise beyond your years. Even as a child you never acted rashly. While Theran and I were out being fools, you never engaged in such games, but you were always there when we needed you the most. I remember how we could be surrounded by ten times our number, but I could call out for you, and you would appeared. It didn’t matter where you were or what you were doing at the time, you always came, and you obliterated our foes—”
“Then proceeded to give you a thorough lecture on putting yourselves into such situations—if I recall correctly.” Lorrek smiled at Heldon and earned a nod from him.
“True, but you were always there.”
“Not for the last ten years.”
“We didn’t need you...until now.”
The words rang in the air. Heldon sucked in a breath when he heard the sting of his words, and Lorrek grew still as he stared at the foot of the throne, contemplating this revelation.
“You didn’t need me.” The whispered words contained something Heldon couldn’t identify—was it hope?
“We do now.” Theran—his full black armor and helmet on—strode into the room earning the attention of both brothers. He nodded at Lorrek. “Cuskelom needs you more than ever...” He shifted his gaze back to Heldon. “As it becomes accustomed to a new ruler.”
Under his eldest brother’s stare, Heldon realized he was in the throne with the crown at his hand and thus assuming a place a power. Pushing himself to his feet, he grabbed the crown from off the armrest and stepped down the dais towards Theran. “Here.” He held the crown out to the man in black armor. “It is rightfully yours.”
Theran stared down at the crown. The computer in his visor measured the dimensions of the crown and determined the worth of the gold in the fraction of a second, but Theran shook his head, lifting his hands as he backed away from it. “No, no…no.” He crossed his arms.
“But Theran, you are the firstborn son. You’re supposed to be king! Honroth simply became king because at the time you weren’t ready, but you’re ready now.” Heldon still held out the crown to him, but Theran stepped back.
“No.”
Lorrek observed this exchange and saw something curious about Theran. “You do not refuse to be king because you believe you lack the characteristics to be king, but for some other reasons.” He leveled his brother with a discerning look. “What is it?”
“I will never be as good a king as Honroth.” Theran tried to dodge the question, but Lorrek’s gaze never softened, and Theran sighed then shifted on his feet. “This armor.” He gestured to it. “I cannot take it off. I’ve tried, but...I cannot remove it.”
Lorrek chuckled and uncrossed his arms. “Truly? That is your only reason?” He approached Theran and reached out to grab part of the armor, yet Theran yanked out of his reach and shied far away.
“No! If anyone or anything touches the armor, whatever it is, it will break.” Theran shot Heldon a look and nodded. “That is how I broke Verddra’s arms.”
This caused Lorrek to frown, and he tried to touch the armor, but Theran pulled away again. Now frustrated, Lorrek narrowed his eyes. “Theran, I should be able to phase it off of you.”
“And in doing so, you must—momentarily—touch the armor, and that will break your hand, and I refuse to be responsible for that.”
“I can be healed.”
“No!” Theran shot his little brother a glare. “I said no.” He stepped away again, hugging his arms close to himself then he nodded to Heldon. “And this is why I cannot be king. For what kind of king cannot reach out and touch his people in comfort or encouragement without harming them?” He shook his head then pulled his shoulders back and lifted his chin. “I will go to Jechorm. I will aid them in organizing the land, but I will seek a way to remove this armor, and once that has happened, I will come back to Cuskelom.”
“That could take years,” Heldon pointed out, and Theran nodded.
“I know, and Cuskelom will need a king in the meanwhile. Lorrek?” Theran shot his little brother a look.
Lorrek furrowed his brows—not sure what was being asked of him, but then he realized his eldest brother inquired whether or not he would take the crown for himself, and Lorrek shook his head. “Nay, it is improper for the youngest son to become king.” Though this was the least of his reasons, he hoped they would not press the issue, but Theran laughed.
“That law has been overturned long ago, Lorrek. You are well fit to be king. You are powerful, and you understand the responsibility of such power—”
Suddenly, Lorrek was in Theran’s face, and Theran stepped back, startled by the close proximity. Lorrek glared but spoke with a cold, measured voice. “And I have no want for more power or responsibility. Enough has happened, and I still do not understand the full ramifications of many of my actions.” He turned to Heldo
n. “I need time to reflect on all that has happened and come to terms with all I have done—and almost did. I request permission for one year of leave that I may set right many wrongs I have done.” He lowered his eyes. “I need time to think.”
Heldon frowned and fought to keep the hurt from his face. “Both of you will leave me then?”
Both brothers—youngest and eldest—shared a sharp look then glanced back at Heldon. “No, no—it’s not like that. It’s just...” Theran wasn’t sure what it was like, and he cast Lorrek a look, pleading with him to make things right.
Without meeting Theran’s gaze, Lorrek approached Heldon and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Heldon.” He waited until his brother met his gaze. “You are never alone, do you understand? You still have Therth here and the good constable and even Gershom—not to mention Mother as well. And I am sure Erita will return once the situation in Nirrorm has stabilized. And though I may be worlds away, I will always come when you summon me.” Closing his eyes, he touched the side of Heldon’s head and created a magical bond between their minds. “There.” He established it and eased any disorientation with a smile filtered through the bond. “All you must do is concentrate on me and call out to me, and I will hear you and will come to you—wherever you are, whenever you summon me.”
“I…I don’t want you to go.” Heldon gripped Lorrek’s hand, and Lorrek felt the fear passing through the bond—the fear of failing such a great kingdom and marring the legacy of Honroth and those who came before him.
Lorrek clutched Heldon’s hand and closed his eyes as he pressed his forehead against Heldon’s. “I must go, Heldon—just for a little while. Otherwise I will grow to distrust my own abilities, and I will loathe those who seek to further themselves regardless of the pain and suffering of others. I will simply act without thinking—lash out in my anger, and many people will die.” He shook his head and pulled back, staring into his brother’s eyes and pleading for him to understand. “I cannot—will not—allow that to happen, so that is why I must go.” Then he used his voice. “One year—that is all I ask, and you won’t even notice I am gone.” He smiled at his brother. “You will make a great king, but be King Heldon and not King Honroth. He had his strengths, but he also had his weaknesses just as you will have your own weaknesses, and you must learn how you will make those your strengths.” He squeezed Heldon’s arms then stepped away, and Heldon reached out to him—afraid his brother would simply vanish.
“So that’s it? You’re just going to leave?”
Lorrek turned back to him with a curious brow raised. He thought he had established what he would do and why, but he nodded. “Aye.”
“Where...where will you go?” Heldon shifted his gaze to Theran hoping their eldest brother would make some effort to convince Lorrek to stay, but Theran made no move.
Lorrek hesitated.
“Athorim?” Theran arched a brow as he remained standing with his arms crossed, but Lorrek shook his head.
“Nay, my brother. I fear Athorim shall never again offer peace to me, for I am a dark soul. No, there...there is the chance Vixen still lives.” He locked eyes with his brother. “I go to see if she does and will do whatever I must to ensure she lives.”
Heldon nodded, knowing there was nothing he could do to restrain his brother. As much as he loathed to see him go—after Lorrek finally came back—he understood the need to be alone. “I pray you wait until after the coronation to leave.”
Lorrek cast his brother a smirk. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Like he missed Honroth’s all those years ago. No, this time he was determined to stand by his brother and show his unwavering support for him before all the kingdoms. They knew his strength in magic, so when they saw him a step behind his brother, the king of Cuskelom, they knew that the king held Lorrek’s power at his bidding, and no one would wish to cross him then.
Epilogue
Lady Lorentha stood in the doorway of her youngest son’s chambers, watching him. “You’re leaving already?”
Lorrek looked up from his packing, but he realized he shouldn’t have been so surprised to see her. After all, nobles from the surrounding lands came for the coronation of King Heldon. This included young King Moren and his tutor, Lady Lorentha.
Stepping back, Lorrek bowed low to her. “Mother.”
She bowed her head to him and then looked around, pointing to the bag he was packing. “Leaving so soon?” She lifted her brows, glancing back at him.
He sighed. “I wish I could stay.”
“No, you don’t.” Her words surprised him, and he looked back at her confused, but his mother stepped up to him with a kind smile. “You were never one for the public life. You never cared for title or royalty.” She sat on the edge of his bed and watched him shove some clothes in the bag. “When you began training with your magic, it became evident that you had a different calling. Yes, being a prince meant you had a unique opportunity and many privileges others did not, yet you found it more of a burden than a privilege because so much was expected of you. That’s why you preferred the shadows, why you didn’t return home immediately when you came back to this world, and that is why you seek to leave again.”
Lorrek tightened the throat of his bag, closing it, and then he pocketed it away in another dimension. He preferred to travel light, but he wasn’t sure exactly how long he would be gone. At least he had the chance to prepare this time.
Nevertheless, he sighed as he sat down next to his mother on the edge of his bed and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he clasped his hands together. “I never wanted any of this, never planned any of this.” He shook his head then shot his mother a glance. “Do you know what I wish I could have done with my life? I wish...I wish Theran and Heldon hadn’t been so foolish when they were younger, so I would have had time to build something.”
“Build what?” Lorentha softened her voice as she asked. It wasn’t often Lorrek spoke of his dreams. She couldn’t recall a single time he had ever voiced such a thing, so she listened closely.
“A school—for magic users of all kinds, regardless of their rank, whether they be of pure magic or of tainted magic. For a long time, Athorim has been deemed a refuge for magic users, yet they have their restrictions since they do not practice tainted magic.” Lorrek paused, imagining what such a place would be like, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “If I could, I would create such a place to help those who have been shunned, those who do not have the resources to learn magic as I have.” But then he sighed and shook his head. “Yet I do not have the time. There are those who depend on me, and there are yet issues which I must resolve before my name is fully cleared.” With that, he rose to his feet.
“What will happen to Roskelem and Verddra? Serhon? Jechorm? Nirrorm?” His mother observed him.
Lorrek let out a heavy sigh. “Roskelem and Verddra have been stripped of their magic and will live out the rest of their days in the dungeon of Athorim. Prince Haskel will be king in his father’s stead. Vixen’s friend, Ceras, is now leader of Jechorm, and I trust you will continue to guide young Moren in Nirrorm.” He looked to her for reassurance.
She nodded. “Of course, and Princess Mordora?”
He paused when he heard this name. He hadn’t seen her since he left to retrieve Moren. It seemed so long ago. However, he had been told that Mordora was involved in the Battle of Cuskelom, but he hadn’t run into her. No one had seen her since the end of the battle. He shook his head. “I know not where she is. I understand Skelton and his brother may be attempting to track her down, but I do not have the time to resolve that issue at this time. I have other things to do—much to reconcile in my own mind.” He moved to leave.
“Lorrek.” Lorentha snatched his hand and stared up at him with all earnestly. “Please be careful.”
His gaze softened, and he leaned down and kissed her forehead. Pulling back, he regarded her, trying to determine what to say to her. Part of him wanted to leave with a smart rema
rk—something to make her smile. Yet he recognized the sobriety of the moment. He touched her cheek. “Of course. Regardless of all that has happened and all that will happen, remember this, Mother—remember, I still have a soul.” For a moment longer, he stared into her eyes, letting his words sink in, and then he magicked away.
Lorentha gasped as he vanished, and she reached out to touch him, yet all she caught was a wisp of wind.
She let it go and prayed she wasn’t letting him go as well. All she could do now was wait for his return.
Part III
I’m Still Alive
1
In a small cabin on the world of Nedra, Lorrek suddenly paused as he polished a blade. He listened.
Silence.
Stillness.
The sound of a heart no longer beating.
Lorrek felt this stillness over his bond with Vixen, and he froze. He held his breath, willing to feel life through the bond again, but only hollow silence answered him.
His own heart stumbled over a beat as he sank to his knees and blindly reached through the magic realm, trying to find her essence. She couldn’t be dead. She was a fighter. She had to live.
Of course, she had been fighting for her life for the past year after he had blasted her in the chest with his magic. He had been ordered to do it, and at that time, he had no recollection of who he was and who she was to him. He had been told to kill her. He thought doing so would cause him to regain his memories. It had been true—only after she stabbed him with an enchanted dagger he had given her for safekeeping.
An onslaught of memories had flooded his mind in that moment as his entire being was restored, including healing the wound she had inflicted upon him.
She was a good friend, a skilled assassin, a hot-tempered fighter, and wife of his cousin, Loroth.
Lorrek had also been responsible for Loroth’s death as well, but that…that was a long time ago. He had tried to save him, but he couldn’t—just as he had tried to save Vixen but couldn’t.
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