Ashe and the Glass Sword

by KuroKoneko Kamen

  Apparently, many ladies and princesses had attended the ball and had vied for Prince Snow’s affections. Prince Snow had danced with many of them, but had not chosen a bride. At one point during the ball the ladies grew a little rowdy, and had started fighting over who would get to dance with Prince Snow next.

  Their bickering devolved into a catfight with noble ladies pulling each other’s hair in very unladylike fashion. It was quite the scandal. The ink drawing on the following page, which depicted the catfight, caused the corner of Ashe’s lip to twitch. There was also an ink drawing of Prince Snow dancing with a girl named Princess Florinda. Ashe cringed as he looked at the insincere smile on her face.

  The article also mentioned how Snow’s mother had commissioned a sword for him from the famous Blacksmith Rapunzel. Spoiled prince bastard. Ashe thought, a smug smile curling his lips. That sword will soon be mine.

  There was an interesting and slightly disturbing article about the hero and Monster Hunter, Prince Aurelion Borealis. Another mysterious, gargantuan ‘egg’ had fallen from the sky in Rose Kingdom, and had hatched into an enormous chimera that had the head of a lion and the body of a snake. Aurelion defeated the Chimera single-handedly and protected the city.

  Prince Aurelion was a proud member of the Heroes’ Guild. A true hero of Fantasia. A real badass. Ashe admired Prince Aurelion. He was strong, powerful, and undefeated in battle. The hero was a one-man army. If Ashe had his strength he would probably kill Lord Tremaine and his sons, and never look back.

  But Lord Tremaine was dangerous, and his strange brand of magic made him powerful. Ashe was reluctant to admit this to himself, but he was afraid of him. He’d seen Lord Tremaine kill a wizard using a magical weapon he called a ‘revolver’ once. A single metal projectile had lodged itself in the wizard’s brain and had killed him instantly.

  Ashe knew that realistically his best bet at gaining his freedom was paying off his mother’s debt and buying back his freedom from Lord Tremaine.

  After Ashe finished reading the newspaper he washed his hands and made preparations to wash Lord Tremaine’s motorcycle. The motorcycle was a rather unique, magical transportation device. It had to consume ‘food’ called ‘gasoline’ in order for it to work.

  The motorcycle was parked outside the front door and that’s where Ashe started to clean it. First, Ashe hosed off all the mud that had become caked onto the motorcycle. He cleaned and polished all the steel and chrome parts, and lastly, he polished the leather seat until it shined.

  Ashe had seen Lord Tremaine and his sons ride the transportation vehicle multiple times. He was confident he could ride it now too, but he’d never dare to ride the motorcycle without Lord Tremaine’s permission. Permission he’d sadly never receive.

  Ashe pouted as he ran his hand admiringly over the leather seat, and then over the words that were engraved on a metal plaque: Harley Davidson UL. It would almost be worth getting flogged to see what it would be like to ride it. Just once. The temptation was strong, and yet he resisted. It would be unwise to give Lord Tremaine a reason to punish him.

  Little did Ashe know, but he was currently being watched by Lord Tremaine, who was standing in front of one of the windows watching Ashe as he cleaned the motorcycle. A sinister smile spread across Christian’s face as he took note of Ashe’s obvious admiration for the motorcycle.

  That night, just as Ashe was about to start making dinner, Christian entered the kitchen unexpectedly, startling Ashe so badly he dropped an armful of potatoes onto the floor. Christian’s lip curled in disgust as he looked down to watch a potato rolling towards him. “Ashe.”

  Ashe gulped. “Yes, Lord Tremaine?”

  “Forget about dinner. My sons and I have been invited by King Reginald to dine at Apple Castle,” Christian informed him in a haughty manner. “We’ll be staying the night there and won’t return until morning.”

  “I…hope you have a splendid evening,” Ashe said while trying not to look too happy that his tormentors were going to be out of the house.

  “Indeed?” Christian raised a skeptical eyebrow at Ashe, smirked, and then left the kitchen.

  Ashe let out a breath of relief. “Phew.”

  An hour later, as Ashe watched a carriage arrive to pick up Lord Tremaine and his sons a sudden idea occurred to him that caused the palms of his hands to sweat. That night Ashe intended to go to Apple City and find Prince Snow at the Gentleman’s Club called Forbidden Fruit. Apple Kingdom was far away and he’d intended to borrow one of Lord Tremaine’s horses for the journey, but he now realized that he could borrow Christian’s motorcycle instead.

  Ashe watched as Lord Tremaine entered the carriage followed by his sons, who were dressed ‘normally’ for once. Knuckles and Picasso were dressed in button-down shirts, vests, cravats, silk pants, and shiny dress shoes. Ashe had heard the young men arguing with their father earlier about leaving their precious ‘fedoras’ and ties with their geometric patterns behind.

  Fuck it. Ashe thought recklessly, feeling giddy. I’m going to do it. I’ll go to Apple City, find that spoiled prince, steal his sword, and get my ass back here before Lord Tremaine and his sons. This could be my only chance to get to ride the motorcycle.

  Ashe took a quick sponge bath to get the ashes off before dressing in his white and gold suit. While looking at his reflection in one of the copper pans hanging from the ceiling in the kitchen he brushed his hair back and tied it into a ponytail. Once Ashe was finished dressing and had tied his hair back with a gold ribbon, he had to admit that he looked like a noble.

  Ashe clenched his hands into fists angrily. No. He was a lord. That had been taken from him, and he intended to get his title back.

  Ashe exited the château, mounted the motorcycle, and turned the key to start the engine. He placed his hands on the handlebars and copied what Lord Tremaine had done to make the transportation vehicle move forward. The motorcycle surged forward abruptly, and Ashe flew forward and right off the bike.

  Ashe flushed with embarrassment even though no one had witnessed his blunder. Although a chittering sound caused Ashe to glance at the steps that led up to the front door and sitting on the top step was Gustava. Ashe narrowed his eyes at the chubby mouse that appeared to be laughing at him. “Oh shut up, Gustava.”

  Ashe got back on the motorcycle and tried again. This time he lost his balance and fell sideways. “Oof!” The bike was a lot heavier than it looked and it was difficult to get off of him.

  3rd time’s a charm. Ashe mounted the motorcycle for the third time, made sure not to accelerate too quickly, and concentrated on maintaining his balance. This time he didn’t fly forward or tip sideways, but kept going straight. As Ashe rode through the front gate he let out an excited whoop. “Yes! This is so fucking awesome!”

  Ashe rode the motorcycle all the way to Apple City and made record time. As Ashe rode past the open gate in the outer wall of the city, he waved at the city guards, and smiled cheekily at them. They waved back with astonished looks on their faces. They were obviously impressed by the magical transportation device Ashe was riding, and assumed he was just another crazy, young wizard coming back home.

  The motorcycle as it turned out was a good ‘cover’ for Ashe. In his haste to execute his brilliant plan to steal Prince Snow’s sword Ashe had forgotten about how dangerous it was for a dullard to enter Apple Kingdom due to the prejudice the witches and wizards held for non-magic folk.

  The only dullards who lived in Apple Kingdom were slaves, and if it were discovered that Ashe was a dullard a witch or wizard could enslave him again. Here in Apple Kingdom those with magic ruled and those without magic obeyed.

  Ashe glanced around at the witches and wizards that were walking down the sidewalk, and noted that they were shooting admiring glances at his motorcycle and barely paying Ashe any attention. They instantly assumed the motorcycle had been created using magic. A few wizards even tipped their hats Ashe’s way in a show of respect. They think I’m a wizard. Ashe smirked and h
is shoulders sagged in relief.

  The hair on the back of Ashe’s neck prickled in warning and he rubbed at it. He had a sneaking suspicion that he was being followed or watched but when he looked behind him there was no one there.

  As Ashe passed through a residential area he took a moment to admire the Tudor houses with their sloping roofs and crooked chimneys. Those chimneys would be a bitch to clean! Ashe thought, feeling sympathetic for the chimneysweeps who lived in Apple Kingdom.

  Dispersed between houses were tall wizard towers that had conical roofs that resembled the hats the witches and wizards wore. Like the houses in Glass City the houses had pretty flowerboxes below their windows, but these were filled with plants and flowers that appeared to be moving.

  Ashe rode the motorcycle down the cobbled streets of Apple City while trying to find the club district. He brought his motorcycle to a halt in front of the entrance to a street that had a malevolent aura. I’m just being paranoid. Ashe thought as he got ready to enter the street despite his misgiving.

  Suddenly, an enchanted, pumpkin-shaped carriage materialized in front of Ashe. The carriage door opened and Julie emerged.

  Ashe gaped at her unexpected appearance. “You! What the hell are you doing here, girl?”

  “If you’re trying to find Snow Flurris you definitely won’t find him down that street…” Julie said in a matter-of-fact tone. “That’s where all the Dark wizards and witches buy things they need. If you go down there you’ll end up as someone’s potion ingredient or slave. Follow me.” Julie got back inside the carriage and it took off running down an adjacent street.

  Ashe let out a defeated sigh. He had no choice but to follow the strange girl and her enchanted carriage because in truth he was lost and had no idea where he was. The carriage promptly led Ashe to a street lined with dance clubs where witches and wizards liked to dance together, host clubs where handsome wizards served rich witches sweet cocktails along with flattery, and Gentleman’s Clubs where beautiful witches served lonely wizards alcoholic drinks.

  The carriage stopped outside of the Gentleman’s Club called Forbidden Fruit. Through the large, latticed front window a handsome young man could be seen seated at a round booth. He was surrounded by a trio of beautiful witches, who were fawning over him. The man had short black hair and sparkling, sapphire-colored eyes filled with mirth. He was wearing a blue shirt with puffed sleeves that had red and yellow accents, a pair of yellow pants, and a blue cape with a red lining.

  The ink sketches in the Glass Gazette didn’t do Prince Snow Flurris justice. He was even more handsome in person. “Prince Snow Flurris…stupid, flashy bastard,” Ashe sneered softly. He turned to thank Julie for her help, but her carriage had disappeared from sight…or had just turned invisible again. Whatever. Ashe shrugged. He didn’t really care what that strange girl was up to by following him around.

  Ashe dismounted the motorcycle, and made sure to remove the key and pocket it so that no one would be able to steal it. Cane sword in hand, Ashe approached the front door of the Gentleman’s Club and entered. A witch escorted Ashe to a booth close to Snow’s and he took a seat.

  In the blink of an eye, two witches took a seat on either side of him, and asked what he’d like to drink. Ashe had remembered to bring his coin purse this time, and so wasn’t too worried about spending an exorbitant amount of money on overpriced booze. Ashe ordered an expensive bottle of wine to start with, and focused his attention on the infamous Prince Snow Flurris.

  Real men need to hate prissy philanderers on principle. Ashe thought, nodding to himself. The girls seated with him didn’t appear to be very bright, but they were witches so Ashe had to keep an eye on them.

  Now that Ashe was closer he could tell that Snow’s suit was obviously brand-new and made of the finest silk. The jeweled rings on his fingers were probably worth a fortune. The prince was a walking treasure chest. If Snow were anywhere other than Apple City, Ashe would have thought the prince would be in danger of getting robbed by bandits.

  Ashe’s sharp golden eyes scanned the interior of the club, and he noted that there were a few guards dressed in plain black suits and wearing pointed hats. Wizard guards. Ashe thought. Because the club had security that meant Ashe would have to wait until Snow left the club before he could rob him. By then Snow would most likely be piss drunk anyways. It’ll be like stealing candy from a baby. Ashe thought as his gaze lowered to the sword that was strapped to Snow’s side. The sword’s ornate hilt resembled the wings of a bird. That must be the enchanted sword.

  Ashe unconsciously started to grind his back molars as he watched Prince Snow sitting there and drinking without a care in the world while being fawned over by those witches. Spoiled prince bastard. Ashe thought venomously. He’s probably never had to worry about anything in his entire life.

  Ashe let one of the witches pour him a glass of wine and did a double take when he realized the bottle was floating in midair. He swirled his glass, sniffed the wine, and took a sip. He nodded at the witch, and she waved her finger at the floating bottle of wine causing it to pour more wine into his glass. He tried not to look too impressed and continued to watch Snow while ignoring the witches seated with him.

  “I’ve never seen you here before, Milord. Are you from out of town?” one of the witches asked keenly.

  Ashe reluctantly turned to regard the witch. She looked a little young to be a hostess due to her short stature and flat chest. The girl had purple hair that was styled into two playful pigtails. She was wearing a purple and black dress with lots of frills and lace. A wide-brimmed, pointed purple hat sat on her head. There was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes that made Ashe realize she probably wasn’t as innocent or as young as she appeared to be.

  “I’m traveling…” Ashe replied evasively.

  “Seeing the sights,” the witch said with a nod, and an impish smile formed on her lips. “Well, there are many incredible sights to see here in Apple Kingdom. It’s the only Kingdom in Fantasia where magic users can truly feel safe and use their magic openly, you know?”

  “Hm,” Ashe agreed noncommittally. He didn’t know very much about the persecution of witches and wizards in Fantasia. All he knew was that there was a Religious Sect that considered ‘magic’ to be evil and the Church’s warrior priests would occasionally hunt witches and wizards down.

  “I barely escaped The Inquisition, but made it safely to Apple Kingdom…” the second witch revealed, drawing Ashe’s attention. “Now those dullard priests can’t touch me. They’re too afraid to step foot inside Apple Kingdom since that would bring King Reginald’s wrath down upon them.”

  The witch was a stunner. She had long red hair, sparkling green eyes, and was wearing a skin-tight, red dress that was low-cut and had belled sleeves. The witch was also wearing a pointed, red, wide-brimmed hat that had a black butterfly decorating it. Ashe noticed the butterfly was flapping its wings slowly and couldn’t decide whether or not the butterfly was alive or just enchanted material.

  “Good for you,” Ashe said dryly, raising his glass in her direction. “To freedom.”

  “Your magical steed is quite fascinating,” the first witch began, her pale, lavender-colored eyes sparkling. “I wonder what spells you used to create it. Perhaps, you could enlighten us?”

  “Thanks,” Ashe said. “And it’s er, a secret.”

  “I’d love to go for a ride,” she said expectantly while giving Ashe a hopeful look.

  “I’m busy,” Ashe said.

  “Are you friends with Prince Snow Flurris?” the redhead asked keenly.

  Ashe choked on his wine. “No. Why would you ask that?”

  The witch propped her chin on her hand as she gave Ashe a scrutinizing look. “Well, you’ve been staring at him so intently for several minutes now.”

  “Are you gay?” the purple-haired witch asked bluntly.

  “No,” Ashe said, letting out a sigh. “It’s normal to stare at someone as famous as Prince Snow Flurris. His exploits are
written about all the time in the Glass Gazette. It’s just strange seeing him in person.”

  “If you’re not gay then…” The purple-haired witch tapped her chin in thought. “You must be his enemy. Ooo are you an assassin?”

  “Did you not listen to a word I just said?” Ashe snapped in an irritated tone.

  “Prince Snow Flurris doesn’t have any male friends,” the redhead explained simply. “All the men in Apple Kingdom hate Prince Snow because if their woman lays her eyes on Snow they become instantly enamored by him. Some say it’s Snow’s magical ability: charm. So, you must hate him like all the rest. Are you out for revenge? Did he steal the heart of your beloved?” The witch’s red lips curled into a creepy smile.

  Ashe sighed. “I hate him for other reasons. I’m envious of him. But I’m not out for revenge or anything like that. And I have no beloved.” Ashe gave his glass of wine a suspicious glance since he wasn’t used to being so honest.

  The two witches exchanged an excited glance upon hearing that Ashe was apparently single. “A handsome guy like you doesn’t have a lover? That’s such a pity,” the redhead purred suggestively.

  “You must have been living under a rock,” the purple-haired witch declared. “Guys like you don’t stay single for long.”

  “Try under a fireplace…” Ashe muttered darkly to himself. The witches both laughed at what they both thought was a joke. A cold feeling settled in the pit Ashe’s stomach.

  Ashe didn’t know why he’d started talking to these witches in the first place. He’d revealed way too much. He wondered if these witches had slipped him a truth serum in his wine. Ashe had to remind himself that these witches were potential enemies. Not potential allies. He decided that he was officially done with this conversation. Women were not to be trusted.