by Damon Glatz
He wore his shining silver and blue armor, his cape flowing behind him. Commanding the men was none other than the prince of all Ashland himself. He rode tall amongst his royal guard scanning the crowd below.
“Why is he here?” Ohitekah asked nervously.
“Prince Lance would not come here for any of these local thieves. He may be looking for us so just lay low.” They dismounted their horses and stood in the crowd, attempting to keep a low profile. “Lance interrogated me before the execution. He wanted to know what I had to do with finding the Mythics. Apparently whenever a criminal is charged with anything having to do with Mythics in Ashland, he shows up. Julian told him about what you were trying to do and how you were looking for help. Obviously, I told him nothing. I’m not sure if he knows if I was executed or not because he left before you arrived, but let’s not find out.”
Lance carried an aura of fear and dignity about him. His royal guards stayed in impeccable form as they marched through the streets. The prince’s eyes were sharp and focused, they darted about the streets to take in every detail, and not a thing was overlooked. Ohitekah could not tell if he was just looking for something in particular, or if he was always like this. He rode tall and elegant, his silver and blue armor glistening in the light as his horse paced through the unworthy road. Nicholas was surely right about him, they should probably lay low.
One of the royal guards gave a bag of coins to a street merchant, and the man pointed down the road toward Ohitekah and Nicholas. The prince looked in their direction.
“Wore out our welcome, looks like. Time to go,” Nicholas said hurriedly. He briskly walked his horse further back in the crowd, and down an empty alley. The prince locked eyes with Ohitekah and pointed at him.
“Go, go, go!” Nicholas mounted his horse to flee, but guards who had flanked them from behind quickly blocked the opposite end of the alley. They attempted to turn back around, but both ends of the road were now lined with the horsemen. Ohitekah, Nicholas, and the horses were trapped in the center of the street. Ohitekah stared at the faceless shadows behind the Ashland helmets. These were not average knights. The knights of the royal guard were handpicked by the prince himself.
The knights stepped aside and created an opening for Lance to ride through. He trotted forward into the alley, stopping halfway between his men and Nicholas. Lance lifted his silver helmet off his blond hair, his blue cape waving like a banner behind him. As he studied them, he gave a small smile for an instant, as if he remembered an amusing joke.
“I see your execution went off smoothly Nicholas.” He addressed his attention to the Brute, his eyes scowling, and his smile cool. “Never thought I would see you again in the land of the living.” The prince looked to Ohitekah. “And here is your friend I have heard so much about, the boy from the plains,” the prince spoke in a noble, hard voice. His accent was unlike the local knights, and Ohitekah assumed most noblemen spoke this way. He never took his eyes off Ohitekah.
“What do you want from us?” Ohitekah said, trying to hold back his fear.
“You shall address me as Lord, or Your Majesty, and without so much impoliteness in your voice, boy. When you are in my kingdom you will address me properly." Lance collected himself. “And as for what I want from you? Well, information if you would like to give it to me. Information on some of the rumors I’ve heard about you, specifically on what you plan on doing. You have been the talk of the kingdom, boy. You can simply fill me in on the truth I need, or I can have you executed…” he shifted his glare, “…correctly, this time.” He glanced at Nicholas who gave him a hearty grin.
“Your Majesty, Prince Lance,” Ohitekah said through gritted teeth. “What do you need to know?”
Lance dismounted his horse and walked forward. He was just as tall as Ohitekah, his blue cape billowing behind him constantly in the light breeze. He rested his hand on the hilt of his long, silver sword.
“You have been all over my kingdom, looking for help to...” he paused, as if the next words were difficult to say, “…kill a Mythic.” He looked back in Ohitekah’s eyes. “I’ve been wondering if you found any.”
“Found what?” Ohitekah asked.
“Found any help, boy, of course.” The prince smiled.
“No, only Nicholas would help me.”
“Mmhmm.” Lance faced away, and he toyed with the hilt of his sword as he spoke, “You see, us Ashlanders are a bit sensitive when it comes to killing Mythics. We have been without one for over two hundred years. We quite liked our dragon; he protected us from our volcano, he led us in battle. Our great kingdom has been weak without a Mythic. So, I am sure you understand, it is my responsibility as prince to restore that balance. The man that murdered our Mythic is still out there. Have you learned anything about him?”
So that’s his point, he doesn’t care about the Thunderbird, he cares about the Fire Mythic.
“He was from the north; a Shogun is what I heard.”
“Yes.” Lance rubbed his boot into the dirt. “That’s what all the legends say.” He paused, thinking to himself. He slipped his hand into his pocket. “Does this mean anything to you?” Lance pulled a playing card out of his pocket and flashed it to them. Ohitekah had seen men playing card games in the tavern, but knew nothing about them.
“It umm... it looks like a game card like the ones in the inn the men had?”
“I take it you are unfamiliar with our games.” He shook his head as if he found his own question stupid to ask in the first place. “How about you, big guy?” Lance showed the card to Nicholas.
Nicholas had played his fair share of card games in bars around the kingdom, and was familiar with their design. The card was a two of spades. It looked different, however. It took Nicholas a moment to see what it was. Spades in a deck of cards are always black, but this two of spades was red.
“It’s a red two of spades? Why is it red?” Nicholas asked.
“Okay.” Lance frowned in disappointment, slipping the card back into his pocket. “I was hoping you could tell me. Never mind then.” He looked back at Ohitekah. “You sure you know nothing more about that man I asked about? I figured you two Mythic hunters might have met by now.”
“No, my Lord.” Ohitekah hated calling him that, but he was not in a position to argue.
“That is quite unfortunate.” Lance put his helmet back on and mounted his horse. “Men, take these two into custody.”
The knights snapped to attention and rode forward with crossbows armed and aimed at them. Nicholas drew his sword and Ohitekah readied his bow. Ohitekah and Nicholas exchanged glances and nodded. They weren’t going down without a fight.
I need to be fast. If I take out the prince first they could become disorganized and we can escape. That’s our only shot.
Ohitekah drew his arrow in a burst of speed. He turned around and aimed it at Lance. Ready to fight and do what he had to do in order to escape. Before he could let loose his shot, he froze, standing between himself and Lance was a man in black robes.
Red.
Once again, silently and out of nowhere, he had appeared.
“Let the boy go, Lance,” Red said sternly, facing the prince.
“How bold of you, Ronin.” Lance studied him closely. “Men, arrest them all.”
Red drew his sword in a flash. This was the first time Ohitekah had a moment to notice it. The blade was black and had red northern symbols written along its side. The sword had caught the attention of Lance as well, who studied it closely.
“I am not letting the boy go with you. Leave now,” Red commanded. Ohitekah and Nicholas found themselves unable to move, waiting to see how the situation resolved itself. Red held his sword with one hand. He pointed it away from him, towards the ground. His stance looked as if he was leaving himself very open.
Lance looked agitated by his guards’ inability to follow orders.
“What are you waiting for? Kill the Ronin!” Lance ordered, pointing at the man in his way. The men at his
sides aimed and fired their crossbows at the man in black and red robes.
“No!” Ohitekah shouted.
In the blink of an eye, Red slashed his sword through the air. There were several fast, loud clangs and every arrow fell to the ground, deflected from his blade. Everyone stared in shock. Red stood still, unfazed, and lowered his sword back to where it was before. The guards began to load another bolt into their weapons. Red clenched his hand tighter on the handle of his black sword. A fire crawled from his hand and down the length of his blade. Lance’s eyes opened wide. He knew he recognized that sword, the black katana with red symbols.
It can’t be, The Prince thought in wonder.
Before the guards had a moment to react, Red slashed his flaming sword through the air. Out of the tip of the sword a stream of fire engulfed the guards. The fire did not seem to hit Lance, who dove off his horse to evade the attack.
What was that?! Ohitekah jumped backward, his skin flushed from the heat of the fire suddenly in front of him. He didn’t know what to do.
Red turned to face the guards behind Ohitekah and Nicholas, who were armed with swords. The fire on his katana exploded into a more intense blaze. He readied his next attack.
“Get down, kid!” Nicholas ran forward and tackled Ohitekah into the dirt. The impact under Nicholas’ weight knocked the wind out of him.
Suddenly, Red leapt into the air, aimed at his targets below and slashed his flaming sword at the remaining guards. They, too, were hit by an incredible wall of fire from his attack and fell to the ground. He landed and turned to face the Prince. Lance ripped his helmet from his face to better see and stood up to draw his sword. His face was determined, wanting to fight.
Red’s face changed, his eyes opening wide. He looked concerned. He looked at the blaze he created around him, he looked back at Lance, the only man still standing. Unfazed by the destruction he had witnessed, Lance was ready to fight. If anything, he looked excited, his face in a hard glare. He waited for his enemy to make a move.
Red returned the glare. He sheathed his sword.
“I am Daisuke Yoshimori, dishonored Shogun of the Feng Dynasty. Defender of the Great Wall. The Mythic of Fire.”
Chapter Thirteen:
An Arrangement
“So here you are, Daisuke.” Lance stood tall, holding his silver blade pointed at the man he hated. “After two hundred years.” Lance’s face shifted to anger, and he was solely focused on Red. His vision tunneled to his target, the Shogun. Nothing else mattered now.
As Ohitekah and Nicholas got to their feet, they backed away from the men who were facing off. They could hear crowds of people beginning to run through the streets as the fire started to spread.
Red tuned into the screams as well. He took a deep breath and motioned with his hand, lowering his palm from his chest to his stomach. The fire around him died down to smoke, stopping the damage from spreading. The subtle act of peace was ignored by the prince.
“I challenge you, Daisuke.” Lance continued to point his sword at Red.
Red paused for a moment, studying the Prince. He shook his head. “I refuse your challenge, Prince Lance. My loyalty is to this boy. He must complete his quest with my help. It is more important than either of us.” Red motioned to Ohitekah.
“That is ridiculous! He is just a boy! He could never defeat the Thunder Mythic. I challenge you!”
“Without my help, no, but I cannot risk my life to fight you until he has completed his journey. I will honor your challenge when we are done. I swear it.”
Lance stared at him hard, Red returning his gaze. Lance’s eyes narrowed. He smirked, as if suddenly amused by an idea. “How will I know when the journey is done?”
“I will find you.”
The answer seemed agreeable to Lance, as he gave a very slight nod. The prince sheathed his sword fluidly to his side. The tension in the air lessened a bit. Ohitekah took a breath for the first time since he saw the Royal Guard. He was ready to fight for his life before Red showed up.
After watching that, why would he think he has a chance against Red? The prince is insane.
Lance shifted his gaze from Red and now studied Ohitekah, the boy who was delaying his plans to fight his enemy. Lance wanted to see more: why was this boy important? His glare was filled with judgment. It seemed to Lance that he could look past the boy’s clothes and skin; he could see his strength, his determination, and his weakness.
The Prince let his analysis sink in. He processed the deal offered to him: a duel on mutual terms. Looking back to his enemy, he thought for another moment. “I have trained my whole life to finally battle you, Daisuke. If you agree to challenge me when this boy’s quest is over, then I reluctantly accept terms.” His eyes shifted back and forth between Red and Ohitekah. “However, I will not be delayed even one second after. Once he battles the Mythic of Thunder, win or lose, live or die, you and I will fight. I will travel with you to be sure of it. That is my only condition.”
Daisuke thought about this, and nodded. This was surprising to Ohitekah as was this whole evening. He now not only had a Shogun warrior on his side, but the Fire Mythic! And the very prince of Ashland was coming with him on his journey. But this reminded him of something.
“We are helping Nicholas first, we had our agreement before any of this.”
“No! No delays!” Lance said firmly.
“Yes!” Ohitekah tightened his hands into fists. “Don’t I get any conditions in this? I am not going anywhere until Nicholas avenges the murder of his family. Like I promised.” Nicholas smiled. Lance shot a look at Red to look for a rebuttal.
“If it makes you feel any better, I did not want to go either,” Red said to him. “But Ohitekah is in charge, and what he says goes.”
Lance shook his head, but agreed. “This is nonsense, but fine, I’ll get this ridiculous mission over with, only so I get the fight I deserve at the end.” Lance looked at his guards, who were starting to get back up. Their burns had disappeared. “Go back to Castle Magnus, men. I won’t need you anymore. Tell my father I am traveling with Daisuke to challenge him on our terms.”
The guards, shaken from the battle, agreed and rode off. Happy to be away from the fire demon, they sped away faster than they cared to show. Lance mounted his horse once again. Ohitekah and Nicholas did the same. Red stood in the middle of them, lacking something.
“Where’s your horse, old man?” Lance said mockingly. Although Red gave the perpetual appearance of a thirty-year-old, his age was apparently centuries older. Lance looked to be in his late twenties, similar to Nicholas. Ohitekah was clearly the youngest there.
“I’ll show you,” Red said, beginning to lead them out of the city. Along the road, the team of Vatnic, tribesman, Ronin, and Ashland prince were sure to turn a few heads on their way out. The people began to gossip about the battle.
“The prince of Ashland was here, he fought a samurai!”
“I heard he could set fires with his mind!”
“You’re crazy, the fire started from the street. Someone dropped a lantern, I saw it.”
“Yeah. The guards extinguished it and left. Anyway, they never fought, the prince is leaving now with the samurai.”
The whispers simmered down as they passed. Apparently, no one but the guards were aware of the Fire Mythic’s return, which was good for Red. He clearly wished to keep his identity a secret. The four of them exited the city without much delay.
Red stopped at the outskirts of the town, opposite of the side they entered the previous day. He looked at the edge of the forest and seemed to be waiting for something. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers. The snap produced a small firecracker explosion in his hand for a brief second. A loud cracking of a whip echoed through the forest. The sound was sudden enough to make everyone flinch in surprise. Red waited a moment longer. After a minute or two, trotting footsteps could be heard. A majestic horse materialized out of the wilderness. He strutted out of the woods and stopped before R
ed. The horse was oddly the color of brick, and its mane and tail were bright scarlet.
Red smiled for the first time all day. He stroked his friend’s mane, and in one fluid movement he swung up and mounted him.
Ohitekah was in awe of this crimson beauty that seemed to be born of heaven. His whole life he had been around horses, living and caring with them. No other matched this creature in grace and perfection.
Lance seemed unimpressed at the unnaturally red horse in front of him. He made a quiet “Hmm” and nodded his head, as if taking a mental note.
“How did you get him? What is he?” Ohitekah asked.
Red did not answer at first, only petting his horse’s head and whispering quietly into his ear. He sat up and looked at the men around him, as if he had forgotten they were there.
“Only know that he is much older than any of you. His name is Blaze.”
Ohitekah looked down and gave Bolt a good pet, who was probably feeling jealous. “Well I know he isn’t faster than you, Bolt,” Ohitekah whispered. Bolt gave a nod.
“I’d like to see you try,” Red smiled at him, hinting at a challenge.
Ohitekah was slightly offended. He knew Bolt was the fastest here. Ohitekah was the only one who rode bareback, and the wild mustang is renowned as the fastest horse in the world. Ohitekah gave the foreign horse another glance. He did not recognize the breed Red was riding. Nicholas was still riding Julian’s eastern horse. Lance’s horse was eastern as well, yet his was ornately decorated in steel armor and jewels. Ohitekah was sure that would slow him down for the journey ahead of them.
“We should travel across the plains. It’s the easiest and most direct route to the Vatnic Isles,” Red said after a moment of silence. Everyone agreed.
They rode through the wooded path. Red led them and slowly began to move further and further ahead. Nicholas and Ohitekah rode side by side in the middle. When Ohitekah looked behind him he could see Lance shadowing them down the trail. He clearly did not want to be traveling with them at all.
