by Mike Shelton
“Did the sword awaken your power?” asked the Preacher.
“Yes. How did you know?” Darius sat up straight in the chair.
“That is often the case. A magical talisman or relic reaches deep inside you and brings to the forefront your potential to use the power.”
Darius soaked the words of the Preacher in. If this Preacher understood him and the power, then he might be able to instruct Darius in its use. Finally someone to teach and train him.
The Preacher pulled down a long cord with his jeweled fingers, and a bell rang off in the distance. A beautiful servant girl with dark tilted eyes and black hair entered the room. Her skin was a soft brown, not unlike Mezar’s, but her build was smaller. She appeared to be not much younger than Darius. She smiled at Darius and curtsied as she left.
“You are admiring my servants? She is from one of the eastern kingdoms. They are raised there to respect our powers.”
“I am admiring the way your servants treat you,” Darius smiled. He lifted his goblet and drank in deep gulps. The juice was a cool blend of apple and pear.
Something deep inside Darius warned him that what he was feeling wasn’t real. The Preacher was somehow manipulating his feelings and thoughts. The drain on his body from the trek through the Black Forest and his confrontation with the Preacher’s power was too much to fight the deep compulsion. Darius stopped fighting it and relaxed. He began asking the Preacher about his powers. They talked and laughed and discussed strategies deep into the night.
The Preacher eventually stood. “You and I are a lot alike Darius. You can see that can’t you?”
Darius stood up from his chair and stood a few feet from the Preacher. The man was a few inches taller than Darius, but he felt awed in his presence. So much power and wealth and poise. “We both have been treated unfairly.” Darius agreed almost without thought. “I would like to learn more about you and your powers.”
“And you will.” The preacher added. “Stay with me for a while, and I will teach you.”
Darius smiled. This was going much better than planned. He looked at the Preacher again and something in the back of his mind set off an alarm. There was something else he should be doing here in Belor, but he couldn’t seem to remember what it was. He thought he heard someone calling his name— far far away in the back of his mind. He shook his head to clear it. “I am tired. Can we continue this conversation tomorrow?”
The Preacher smiled and called for a servant to lead Darius to his guest rooms. Darius told the Preacher about Mezar and Leandra, his two friends, and the Preacher provided rooms for them lower in the palace. The Elite Army soldiers, however, stayed in the barracks and were watched closely.
The room Darius was led to had all the comforts imaginable, including running water and eastern-born servants. Before retiring to bed, he looked out of the high window. A full moon and stars made the domed roofs of most of the buildings stand in a soft glow. Belor was a beautiful city. He could understand why the Preacher wanted to defend it. His eyes glazed over as he stood, trying to remember something important, but all he felt was a deep tiredness.
With little more than a thought, Darius put out the flames of the many candles around the room. He smiled at the small task. He was already getting better at controlling his powers. That night as the castle cooled down he lay on the soft down bed and thought about the day. The longer he was away from the Preacher’s presence the more he realized that maybe he wasn’t thinking clearly. Just at the verge of falling asleep something pricked his mind again. A warning. But it was slippery and slid away into dreams of being a great wielder of magic and having servants do his bidding.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kelln awoke the next day on a hard, rocky floor. It took him a few minutes to remember what had happened. He had been taken to a small room. It wasn’t in the dungeon, for which he was grateful for. However, just being held again in the building where he had undergone so much torture sent new pain coursing through his mind. The only furnishings of the room were a small table, one chair, and a blanket. A washbasin and a pitcher of water sat in the corner. Kelln washed his face and looked out of the small square window, which seemed to be at least twenty feet from the ground. People were scurrying and running around below him as if something important had occurred. He heard a guard outside of his room talking. He leaned his ear against the door to hear.
Kelln yelled for the guard to bring him some food. When the guard came to check on Kelln he asked him about what was going on. It seemed that Darius was the talk of Belor. He and the Preacher had been seen walking around and chatting amicably that morning. Rumors were flying around about a union of the two.
Kelln saw Darius coming up a long curved stairway. His old friend was dressed all in black, in apparent facsimile of the Preacher. Kelln pushed the guard aside, spilling his food everywhere. He ran toward Darius. “What do you think you are doing Darius? You’re a traitor to the Realm!”
The guard jumped up and ran toward Kelln. He grabbed him from behind and forced him to the ground, splitting his lip on the corner of a broken stone.
“Bring him to his room and leave him with me,” Darius ordered the guard. Kelln couldn't believe how the guard obeyed.
The door closed, leaving Kelln slumped in his chair rubbing his lip. Darius brought him some water and a cloth.
“Tell me this is some kind of trick,” Kelln said.
“What do you mean, Kelln?” asked Darius with a smug face.
“Come on, Darius. I am your best friend. You can tell me what the truth is. Tell me your real plan.”
“My best friend? Where were you when I was sent away suddenly from Anikari?”
Kelln couldn’t believe his ears. “You can’t be serious. I couldn’t leave here. You know that. The Preacher had me under lock and key, and now he’s done something to your mind.”
“You asked my plan. The Preacher and I have been discussing plans all morning. He is teaching me to use my powers. He is a great visionary, Kelln. Changes need to be made in the Realm. Together we will demand that those changes be made. It’s what we need, Kelln. Don’t you see? There is so much more glory for the Realm if we fix things. It’s a perfect plan and a perfect time.”
“You’re crazy.” Kelln stood up. “The Preacher is crazy. You can't fight against King Edward and the Realm. He got to you, Darius. The Preacher did this to me too. He messes with people’s minds. Listen to yourself.”
Darius paused and shook his head for a moment. “Kelln, I feel different when I am around him. I feel confident, and I have a clear vision of what to do.”
“That’s what he wants you to think. He is manipulating you just like everyone else.”
“I don't expect you to understand, Kelln,” said Darius. “You’re not a military person. You don’t see all of the injustice occurring. We are all being manipulated by the same king.”
“Darius, I lived in Anikari with you. Sure there are problems, but things are not that bad. The Preacher is trying to get power for himself. That’s all it is. He is taking your frustrations with your father and the King and making them seem bigger than they really are. You just can't march in and...”
“I can, and I will. The Realm has caused too much trouble for everyone. These people here in Belor suffer, the farmers back around Anikari suffer, and you and I have suffered because of the politics of the Realm.”
“It’s not because of the Realm. It’s because of men in the Realm. Don't fight against them. If you want to change things, fight from within. You will die in a war, Darius.”
Darius laughed. “I will not die. Don't you see the loyalty in my men and the men of the Preacher? They will protect us so we can save them.”
“You aren't doing this for them. I understand now.” Kelln walked closer to Darius, his voice rising louder. “You want the power.”
“You’re right, I want power, Kelln. Have you ever felt the power of an army behind you? Of winning a victory?”
&n
bsp; “Darius!” Kelln couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How could he make his friend see how the Preacher was manipulating his insecurities? He thought back to all the years they attended the Academy together. Darius was always the one to smooth things over for Kelln when he got into trouble. Darius was always careful in what he said and how he treated others. Darius always wanted to keep the Realm peaceful, not destroy it for his own power and glory. Darius always was the one to get Kelln out of trouble. Now it was Kelln’s turn to help Darius.
“And most of all, Kelln, the power I have inside. It’s amazing. The Preacher can teach me how to use it to its full potential.”
“No. Alastair told me the Preacher uses his power for evil.”
“He’s just jealous. You all are jealous,” Darius yelled, his eyes going out of focus.
Kelln couldn't believe his best friend had turned against him. They had ridden horses together, played ball together, studied together, and shared their innermost secrets together. What had the Preacher done to him? What power had he used?
“Darius, do you remember when we got caught down under the library? Remember when we found out about your powers and were talking about what we wanted to do in life?”
Darius nodded, and his eyes seemed to refocus for a moment.
“You talked about how you couldn’t understand how your father seemed to crave the power and glory of politics and that you missed him being away from you and your mother.”
Darius nodded again. “That is true. No one should have the power he and the King have to control other’s lives.”
“But don’t you see, Darius? You are doing the same thing. You are caught up in power and glory.”
“This is who I am now, Kelln. I have been given the ability to change things. You will see.” A new fire of madness glowed in Darius’s eyes.
It scared Kelln and frustrated him to see his friend this way. He had to try and break the spell. “Look at yourself, Darius.” Kelln paused, then in anger yelled out, “You are no better than you think your father is!”
With one flick of his wrist, Darius sent the power at Kelln, pushing him away. Kelln flew across the room and smacked into a small table. His weight broke two of the table’s legs into splinters. Darius made the chair fly across the room, breaking into pieces against the stone wall above Kelln. Kelln covered his head. He felt blood in his hair and winced at the pain. He wanted so much to get up and hit Darius back, but somehow conversations with Alastair came flooding into his head. He tried instead to hold back the tears and find peace.
“You have changed, Darius,” was all Kelln whispered. He sat crumpled on the floor, bruised and bleeding.
“I am the same, Kelln.” Darius headed towards the door.
“You are looking on the outside. Look on the inside. It has grown cold. Look into your heart. Please, Darius, don't do this.”
Kelln looked at Darius’s back and thought again about charging him. It would not do any good. Not with the kind of power Darius now had.
Darius opened the door.
“What will happen to me?” asked Kelln.
“That is up to the Preacher.” Darius walked out holding his back straight. “You are his prisoner.”
After Darius left, Kelln tried to rinse his face off in the water basin, but the water hadn't been changed from earlier, and it seemed to smear the dirt over his face. What was Darius saying? Surely he wouldn’t sacrifice his old friend like this. Maybe no one was strong enough to resist the Preacher’s power.
He sat down on the floor and leaned back against the rough brick wall. His lip and eye were swelling, making his face ache with pain. He closed his eyes and found himself dreaming of Anikari. A pleasant dream. Kelln knew it to be a dream, but it helped him relax. He saw old friends in his dream. His heart jumped as he remembered his family. He wondered what had become of them.
Chapter 9
KING EDWARD
King Edward DarSan Montere had been King of the Realm for many years and his reign had been mostly peaceful. Lately however, too many events were getting out of hand. Today he sat slumped in his tall, cushioned chair. The dark velvet drapes were pulled shut, and despite the numerous lamps, the room seemed dark and depressing. Edward’s once-large frame seemed to have shrunken in recent weeks. His face seemed older, and his thoughts were not always clear. His first councilor, Richard San Williams, sat on a chair facing him.
“One of your messengers came in from Belor this morning, your Highness. It seems my son, Darius, has been there for a few days. He crossed through the Black Forest directly to Belor. I have sent a messenger requesting him to return once again.”
“Good, Richard. It won't be long now. It won't be long.”
“But Sire, he has already disobeyed your orders, and there are rumors of him becoming cocky and boastful. And now we find him in Belor consorting with the Preacher.”
“He is young, Richard. Remember at that age what we all wanted? We wanted to be noticed, to have people look at us, to have power.” The King stopped and placed his hand against his head.
“What has happened, Edward? You were fine a few weeks ago.” Richard stood up and paced the floor of the King’s private chamber. His dark brown hair was similar in color to his son’s, but unlike his son, he kept a trimmed mustache and goatee. He had noticed recently that his beard was showing more gray.
“The doctor is convinced I was somehow poisoned. There is no other explanation. He thought it would pass. However, I’m not so sure. It’s still working deep within me. I can feel it. I think it started with those headaches months ago. It must have been planned back then. A slow process that would not attract any suspicion on anyone. It might be my time.”
“What do you mean, your time? You are still young. You could rule the Realm for another twenty years. We will find an antidote.”
“We are all given a role to play, Richard. I kept the peace the best I knew how. I realize I may have been too harsh at times, but I felt I had no other choice. My purpose is gone. I wasn’t the rightful heir, anyway. Maybe that is why my family has all passed on before me. Once my wife and daughter died in the plague, I decided to do what was right and bring the throne back to its rightful line. I was just bridging the gap until it was time for another… your son… to take the next step.” The King coughed and took a deep breath. “I recognize the look in your eyes, Richard. You think he is too young and too brash. Maybe he is. But strength and wisdom brought on by age are not always what is needed. Youth many times brings the vision and energy that is better in certain circumstances. It’s not always our choice. We are directed by one higher than us.”
“Who is higher than you, my King?” Richard felt helpless. Edward must get better. Darius wasn’t ready. He may never be ready. What was all this rambling from the King about a higher power? He was getting delirious. Richard walked over to open the drapes and let some light in.
“I don’t know him well. Alas, maybe that is also why I must give away my kingdom now. But there is someone out there, Richard. Someone that directs us toward good. I have felt him before, when I am doing the right thing.”
Richard remembered the time after an archery contest that Darius had won. Richard was cross at his son for showing bad sportsmanship and letting his anger control him. They had both said things to each other that were hurtful. Richard had taken a walk around an old field, trying to decide what to do about his son. He had felt something inside of him at that time also, but had been too afraid to rely on it, and so he buried it back inside. It happened to be the same day he found out about his son being in line to be the next king.
Richard walked back toward Edward and dropped down on a chair next to him. The lightened room made him feel better. It would be evening soon, but the last rays of light cascaded across the walls opposite where they sat. He still could not come to grips with his son being the next king. Oh, King Edward had explained it to him numerous times. Richard’s father, at one time the heir to the throne, had been disowne
d by his father, King Charles. That line had then shifted to Edward, a younger son who was born a year after the banishment. As a small child at the time, Richard was also included in the banishment with his father, but his son, Darius, was not.
Darius still didn’t know. It was the worst of many secrets Richard had kept through the years. Darius and he had not gotten along well the last few years. Darius didn’t want to settle down and take on the role of a councilor; he wanted freedom and adventure. His foray into the farmlands and friendship with them had emboldened the farmers. Along with the recent troubles in Denir and Belor, the farmers were revolting and stopping food from coming into the city. No one was happy.
“Edward, we have been friends for a long time, so I must ask you: why did your father disown my father? What did he do to deserve being dismissed so cruelly from the royal line? What could have been so bad?”
The King sat up straighter and looked out the large glass window across from him. Richard let him be for a moment. He knew it was uncomfortable now for the King to move around much, but he grew restless after not receiving an answer.
“Edward?” asked Richard again, when no answer came. “I have to know.”
“Yes, I guess you do.” Edward smiled a reassuring smile.
Richard awaited the knowledge he had craved to understand ever since he found out his father and he should have been the next Kings of the Realm.
“Richard, your father married a... girl from outside of nobility.”
Richard thought for a moment. “It has been done before. I can’t believe the King would disown him for that. I...”
