The child must be found. The threat he represents cannot be understated, and all that we have accomplished here will be for naught by his power. The void calls for his blood, and it will not be denied! Perhaps you will find stronger motivation through this pain; if not, know that there is always more pain.

  Archdemon Mincatu

  said as he tortured King Nathair

  unwilling to tolerate continued failure

  Zaria’s tinkling laughter split the air. Her mirth cracked even Lady Caroline’s grim demeanour. The queen just remained seated, looking bemused. Solomon’s face was red with embarrassment. While he was dirty, he did not quite look like a peasant. The princess was just fishing for information on who was who. He was just an available target – one who would likely have the lowest chance of retaliating.

  Solomon introduced himself with a quick nod of his head. “My name is Solomon, my princess, and I am a long-time guest of Lord Ulric.”

  “So, his bastard child?” Princess Emily inquired. “Surely not an abandoned village stray?”

  Felix snickered. Kastytis was quick to jump in to rescue the situation. “Not exactly, my princess. Lord Ulric found him abandoned as a child and took him in once verifying that he had no local living relations.”

  “Ah.” Princess Emily said. “My pardon, Solomon. I meant no offence. You just look so… dirty.”

  “I was recently in the forest, exploring mostly,” Solomon said. “I lost track of time while I was out there – time passes differently when you are away from others.”

  Emily’s eyes softened. “I imagine that would be peaceful.”

  Queen Eliza spoke up. “Emily has been feeling overwhelmed of late – aside from the constant and never abating pressure to get married and produce an heir, she is rarely able to get a moment to herself.”

  “It is exhausting.” Emily sighed. “So, sir, who are you?”

  “I am, Kastytis, the arms master here. I have trained Solomon and Ulric’s son Felix across from him.” Kastytis said. “Zaldimere beside me is our in-house mage tutor.”

  “Ah, so Zaldimere, you stay here rather than in the capital?” Eliza asked.

  “Rather than send their daughter away, her parents sent in a generous offer for a mage licensed to teach to come here,” Zaldimere explained. “When I saw the contract posted, I abandoned my teaching post at the academy in the capital.”

  “Really? Why?” Emily asked.

  “It was draining to be a teacher there – and loud. Everyone wanted a piece of my time, and every parent wanted to bribe me to accelerate their child’s learning.” Zaldimere said. He shook his head.

  Queen Eliza spoke next. “This place does have a certain rustic charm. And it would be quiet with only one pupil to teach. Have you managed to retain your teaching license? I thought the rules required students to be taught at the academy?”

  Zaldimere was quick to address the queen’s questions. “Since I was a teacher at the academy, I applied to the headmaster of the academy. He checked with the Archmage Royal, who consented to my posting here. There were conditions, of course.”

  “Of course,” Eliza said, her eyes rolling.

  Emily spoke up again, her attention on Felix and Zaria. “So, what do you two get up to for fun around here?”

  Felix grinned and responded first. “Mostly train, my princess. My days are spent reviewing old tomes presenting ideas for running a city and maintaining our industries. The fun parts are swordplay and other combative activities.”

  “I practice my magic through various activities,” Zaria said. “For example, I have been gardening recently to tune my control on water magic.

  “So, neither of you go through the village or go out on your own or anything?” Emily asked incredulously.

  Zaria spoke up. “Solomon often heads to the village and forest, sometimes for days at a time.”

  “Emily, you will not be allowed to wander too far. You know that, right?” Eliza said sharply.

  “Yes, mother,” Emily replied with an eye roll.

  An awkward silence rolled through the room for a moment. Solomon met Zaria’s eyes, and she grinned. She and the princess will get along great when alone or under less strict supervision. The silence was broken by King Nathair as he and Lord Ulric re-entered the room, both laughing jovially. Halting at the top of the stairs, they dismissed the room – except for Solomon.

  “Lady Caroline, could you take my wife and daughter to their rooms to be settled? Guards, please ensure that at least two of you are always with them – not that I expect any threats out there. Irving, Incinera, and Robert wait for me in my quarters – have Lady Caroline show you where after my family is settled.” King Nathair instructed. “Everyone else may go about their usual business, except for Solomon.”

  Nathair looked into Solomon’s eyes, meeting his gaze with casual authority. “We need to discuss your crime briefly, but if matters are as Lord Ulric presented and assured me, you will be pardoned when I leave.”

  Zaria glanced back at Solomon as she left the room, full of hope for him. Ulric scoped her up with a sad grin and walked with her out of the room and down the hall.

  The king stood there waiting as the footsteps faded into the distance. Soon the silence in the room was deafening. Watching Solomon squirm, it was as if the king’s disposition had changed from a few minutes ago's friendly, family-oriented king to a vengeful and stern ruler. He spoke loudly into the silence. “Solomon, I will not waste our short time here with your execution unless I have to. Currently, Ulric has vouched to me that you are not of the dragonkin – at great personal cost. If he is wrong and is judged to knowingly hidden it from me, every man, every woman, and every child in this area will be purged. Even the newest newborn will be slaughtered. I will not suffer the dragonkin to rise again from the ashes of death. Do you understand me?”

  Solomon was aghast that the king would go so far in his threats. He knelt before him. Speaking, he responded simply. “Yes, my king.”

  “Are you dragonkin?” Nathair asked bluntly.

  “Not to my knowledge, my king,” Solomon answered. “Zaldimere tested me after I slew the demon, and his test came back negative.”

  “And yet you are apparently fluent with the techniques and stratagems of the dragonkin.” Nathair said. It was not a question, but King Nathair’s eyes demanded answers.

  “Yes, I am,” Solomon said. “I have studied both sorcery and steel from a young age, and enthralled with the legends of the dragonkin’s power, I have attempted to imitate their mastery.”

  “You worship their legacy?” Nathair asked, a dangerous edge in his voice.

  “No, I merely wish to be able to serve Lord Ulric and the kingdom as effectively as I can,” Solomon answered, his honesty plain to see on his face. While he did worship the stories he had been told, now was neither the time nor the place for such a debate. “I seek to live in peace.”

  “An admirable desire.” Nathair said thoughtfully. “Well, that takes care of that. You are pardoned for the demon-slaying – goodness knows we need more capable warriors to hunt their kind and defend our kingdom. Have you ever thought of joining the army?”

  The thought shocked Solomon to the core. “No, I have not.”

  “Give it some thought, particularly if you want to serve the kingdom as effectively as possible.” Nathair said. “Now I am off to find my family and make the most of this vacation.”

  The king exited the room and walked down the hallway to rejoin his family. Solomon collapsed on the stair he had knelt on mere moments ago, exhausted and drained from the confrontation. Eventually, Cortana returned to escort him to bed.

  Several nights later – as the king’s visit started to wrap up – Solomon and Zaria were sitting in the feast hall waiting on dinner to be served. With no death sentence hanging over his head, Solomon finally could relax a little. Even the king’s words and demeanour had lightened, causing Solomon to doubt that the king had ever threatened to slaughter everyone.

  The visit had thus far been smooth. The queen and lady Caroline were getting along famously and had even visited the village together. Queen Eliza was quite interested in the local fashion and colours, which generally were much more sombre and much less dramatically coloured than clothing in and around the capital. She had purchased several full-flowing gowns and outfits from the village, and lady Caroline had gifted her several of her more luxurious dresses.

  The princess, for her part, mostly explored with her guards – the grounds, the village, and briefly the lakeside with a heavier escort. She seemed to enjoy the freedom from marriage proposals and retainers fussing over her every want.

  Once princess Emily and Zaria realized they had several common interests, the delightful fun of spying and moving around in secret began. Zaria’s favourite pastime had been spying on Solomon for years – and with the knowledge that he had managed to slip past his apparent mastery of the arcane arts… Well, suffice it to say she doubled, then tripled her watch. Once the princess realized there were secret passages and eye holes everywhere, she became obsessed with exploring the keep even further. While on the castle grounds, she usually had one or two guards tailing her, except when she managed to escape with Zaria.

  The freedom could be intoxicating. Solomon remembered discovering the keep’s secrets as a young child and using them to escape Lady Caroline’s hateful eyes.

  Unlike his wife or daughter, King Nathair had enjoyed much of his stay outside the castle. He was out hunting with Lord Ulric, High Cardinal Irving, Royal Magus Incinera, and General Robert. A few retainers were also in tow to help clean and bring back any kills the group made.

  They had been quite successful and returned in a good mood. The hunters had found several deer, two rather large boars, and even a couple geese. The retainers had brought back the hauls as they happened – to be prepared for a large feast to celebrate the hunt and the bonds of fellowship. The king had never previously bothered to cultivate a close relationship with his remote lords. Still, he and Ulric were laughing like brothers when they had returned earlier that evening.

  Cortana walked in with several baskets looped around her arms. The baskets were filled with silverware, utensils, plates, crockery, napkins, tablecloths, and mugs. Her eyes had an angry gleam to them as she worked. With the King’s family in residence, her workload had increased manifold, and Lady Caroline exulted in having her wait upon Queen Eliza. Watching Cortana approach himself and Zaria, Solomon couldn’t help but wonder if Lady Caroline hoped Queen Eliza would call for his maid’s head.

  “King Nathair and Lord Ulric have returned with more quarry,” Cortana said. “I believe they are just cleaning up – dinner is expected to be ready from the kitchens shortly.”

  “What is being served tonight? More of those delicious tarts?” Zaria asked.

  “No such luck tonight,” Cortana replied. “Tonight’s meals focus on the accomplishments of the hunt, with leftovers to be shared with the townsfolk first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “So mostly boar and geese,” Solomon summarized. “Gross.”

  “It smells good, master,” Cortana said as she fitted the tablecloth to the table. Sorting through the napkins, she placed them on the table with cutlery in tow. Several large platters and baskets followed.

  The door creaked open again as four more joined the group and the collection of long tables. Felix, Zaldimere, and Kastytis walked to join Zaria and Solomon. Caroline glanced at Solomon with slight disdain and headed to her seat on the raised dais. This had been the typical setup for the past few days while the king’s visit was ongoing. The guards would join at the other table, and the princess would dine with the children, other guests, and close retainers. At the same time, King Nathair, Queen Eliza, Lord Ulric, and Lady Caroline would take the head table.

  The king, Ulric, and several guards filed into the room together, filling it in remarkedly short order. The lady Caroline leaned in and kissed her lord Ulric on his cheeks.

  Suddenly Eliza burst through the doors with her guards scurrying to keep up. Her face was flushed with emotion – anger, embarrassment, it did not matter which. She spoke to the room at large, a sharp edge to her voice. “Have any of you seen my daughter?”

  “Not since our luncheon at noon,” Caroline said. Solomon bit his tongue. He had seen Princess Emily rushing through the secret corridors earlier in the day. In her erratic rush, however, she had missed seeing him.

  “Baraduk, Istan!” Eliza shouted. The two guards hurried forward from the back of the group of guards. She continued in a faked, cheerful tone of voice. “Please, tell me where my daughter is. You know, THE LITTLE GIRL YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE GUARDING!”

  The guards quailed beneath her fury. Baraduk attempted to explain. “We were following her as usual when she went around a corner. When we turned the corner as well, mere heartbeats later, she was gone. Vanished. Not a sound.”

  “Fools!” Eliza shouted. “I should see you hanged!”

  “Guards.” The king spoke quietly, but his voice cut through the room, silencing even the queen. “Go, search the keep. She cannot be hiding far.”

  Ulric joined in. “Kastytis get the household guards searching for her as well. With enough searchers, we can flush the princess from hiding.”

  At this, Solomon cleared his throat loudly, attracting the attention of the room. Looking at his empty plate, he spoke hesitatingly. “I would also have the gate guards and the guards in the village raised. Ensure she did not sneak out somehow.”

  “And how would she sneak out? Climb out a window, swim across a moat, then scale a wall?” Eliza turned on Solomon furiously.

  Upon seeing Solomon set upon, Zaria spoke up, her voice sounding weak and timid next to Queen Eliza’s rage. “There are hidden passageways in some of the walls, and one or two may lead under the river or to the side of the gates….”

  “What?!” Ulric exclaimed, bewildered. “There are no secret passageways here.”

  “But father, yes, there are,” Zaria said, tears in her eyes.

  “This is not good,” Nathair said, his voice terse with an undercurrent of anger. “My daughter would relish the chance to escape, to taste freedom away from her title and position, even if for a little while. She does not understand the danger she will be in.”

  “I will check with the guards out in the village now.” Kastytis offered. Kastytis left the room, and the rest of the guards took his leave as a signal to make their own escape. They rushed from the room to start a search of the keep.

  Zaldimere wrapped his arm around Zaria to quiet her sobs. Looking to Incinera, the royal mage, he asked the powerful man a question. “Archmage, do you have any search magic for this kind of event?”

  Incinera cast a foul look upon Zaldimere, causing the lesser mage to fall silent. Grimly Incinera responded with scorn in his voice. “My powers are focused in areas meant for the defence of the king and the death of his enemies. I could create constructs and elementals and send them searching for the princess, but that will cause chaos and mayhem.”

  “Ah, I see,” Zaldimere said thoughtfully. “Lord Ulric, I have skill in searching magics using conjuration and spirit magic. I can summon searchers and have them search the area from the sky. It might help narrow the search area.”

  “Thank you, Zaldimere, that should help. Please see to it at once.” Ulric said. Caroline watched the affair from the sidelines, even as Zaria cried quietly. Zaria had been left to her own devices with Zaldimere’s departure. Felix stayed next to his mother, not wanting to be associated with the negative energy surging throughout the room. Nathair and Ulric both started to pace while they waited to hear more.

  Within a fleeting time, footsteps echoed in the hallway. Kastytis returned to the room, looking unusually solemn. He spoke cautiously, heeding the tension in the room. “The guards at the gate report that a slender blonde girl matching the princess’s description left the village shortly before noon with a merchant caravan.”

  “Excellent news. Where was the caravan heading?” Ulric asked.

  “Westward, back towards the capital,” Kastytis said grimly. Solomon stiffened. The swordsman did not use that tone to precede good news.

  Ulric had caught the warning but charged forward with a quick command. “Summon the guards at once, and we will ride them down and collect the Princess from their care. We should hurry to catch up to the caravan before nightfall.”

  Looking helpless, Kastytis cleared his throat awkwardly. “Catching up to the caravan will not take very long at all, my lord. The caravan did not make it far from the city’s edge before a band of raiders attacked it, killing the hired guards. I recommend we pursue them with great haste, with our soldiers geared for hunting in the woods.”

  King Nathair turned angrily. “My daughter has been captured by raiders and taken into the woods? Lord Ulric, are your lands not safe? The merchants’ guild reported no issues in their reports of shipments to and from your lands.”

  “This is the first raid on a caravan I have heard of. There have been reports of suspicious individuals skulking around in the woods, including a detailed account of Solomon’s sanctuary.” Lord Ulric looked uncomfortable. “Under ordinary circumstances, I would lead a hunt for the brigands. I will not tolerate ambushes on travellers in my lands. This goes double for those trafficking prisoners. Considering this unusual occurrence, they were probably specifically hoping for an opportunity to capture a member of the royal party.”

  King Nathair looked from Lord Ulric to Kastytis. While the king presented a calm front, the undercurrent of relentless anger that bubbled beneath the surface resonated with those standing in the room. He looked to Robert. “Robert, gather the guards – both ours and Lord Ulric’s. Ulric, you will take them out and find her. Incinera and Irving will remain here with me.”

  “You will not go searching for her yourself?” Eliza said, turning on Nathair.

  Within the span of a single breath, the king closed the distance between himself and Queen Eliza. King Nathair backhanded the queen, his powerful strike rendering her unconscious. Irving leaned over and caught her as she fell to the side. The high cardinal sneered down at her. “Blasted woman. She has few enough duties; you would think she could mind one child.”

  Solomon fought against the wave of hatred and disapproval rising from within. Glancing around at the others in the room, Solomon could see a similar struggle in the faces of others.

  King Nathair glanced around the room, settling his eyes on Ulric. “Go now, and with speed. Find my daughter alive, or else.”

  No one needed to look far to imagine what the or else might mean with the queen sprawled across Irvings’ arms. Solomon and the rest stood up to join the search.

  “Not you.” Nathairs’ voice echoed with malice. “Solomon, you are to be escorted to your chambers and kept under guard. I suspect that you knew my daughter had fled the keep using these secret passageways of yours. If a single hair on her head is harmed, then I will have your head preserved on a pike for my enjoyment.”

  Lord Ulric paused to meet Solomon’s gaze on his way to the door. Slowly Ulric shook his head at his adopted son, much to Zaria’s dismay. Seizing her arm, Lord Ulric leads his daughter from the room. Solomon met his father’s eyes and nodded his acceptance – he was on his own in this. Lord Ulric could do nothing to help him at this point. Robert, King Nathair’s general, grabbed hold of Solomon’s shoulder.

  Robert spoke quietly. “Stroll slowly, four steps in front of me. I would hate to think you were trying to get away.”

  “Understood.” Solomon’s voice rang out loudly in the emptying room.

  The two made their way to Solomon’s chambers, with Cortana trailing behind. Their passage was swift, only occasionally marred by making way for groups of guards headed to join the search. As they wound their way up the stairs to Solomon’s door, Robert spoke to Cortana.

  “Be about your business, wench,” Robert said to Cortana.

  Cortana did not even pause in her stride as she responded, following Robert. “I am minding my business.”

  Robert halted in her path and reached for his sword, but Solomon was quick in Cortana’s defence. “She is my servant, not one of those in Lord Ulrics’ household. Where I go, she generally follows.”

  This gave Robert but a second’s pause. “Order her elsewhere then. I intend to keep you in your room alone until the princess’s return.”

  “Cortana, I…” Solomon started to say.

  “No,” Cortana said. “I vote we incinerate this fool and head forth to find the girl.”

  Robert drew his sword in full at these words, the bare steel glittering even in the shadowy alcoves in the stairway. Cortana merely grinned at him, and Robert grimaced as he realized he could not strike her without turning his back to Solomon. Nor could he strike Solomon without turning his back to her.

  “Cortana, please stop this. It helps nothing to taunt him.” Solomon said. “I would appreciate it if you would go to my sanctuary in the woods. It is difficult terrain, but it would give you a vantage point from which to try and track the raiders.”

  Cortana met Solomon’s eyes and nodded her understanding. Watching her leave, Robert sighed in frustration as he sheathed his blade with more force than strictly necessary.

  “Why did you choose not to attack me?” Robert asked, his eyes like steel – cold and unwavering.

  “What?” Solomon asked, bewildered by the question. “I do not want to be a hunted exile if I can help it. Nor would I see Cortana come to harm.”

  “But the king will see you dead eventually, regardless of the situation with the princess. He fears the dragonkin, and even though your test results indicate that you are not of that bloodline, you have studied extensively to become like them. For the desire to imitate his greatest foes, he would see you dead in less time than it takes either of us to blink.” Robert said.

  Solomon sighed. “So, what you are saying is anything I try to do to stay alive is pointless.”

  “Yes, but you are actually skilled in the combative arts that the dragonkin were so proficient at – mixing magic with swordplay. You could attack me, maybe overwhelm me and make a run for it… or die quickly when my blade finds your heart.” Robert said. “For the king, every situation becomes an excuse to end your life without blatantly insulting Lord Ulric.”

  Solomon felt the fear of death and disillusionment with his situation cut deeply within his heart. He whispered his response. “There was never really a point to any of this then.”

  They had reached Solomon’s room. Robert said, “Well, get in. I will stay out here to guard the door against your escape.”

  “You are going to guard my door? From outside my room?” Solomon asked in disbelief, sure that Robert was joking considering how easily the princess had eluded her guards to escape the castle grounds.

  “That was the king’s command, and I serve him well,” Robert said. “You are confused?”

  “Yes,” Solomon said.

  With a sigh, Robert explained. “I am to guard your door. If you try to leave through it, I will kill you. If you leave by other means, you have committed treason and will be put to death. If the princess has been in any way harmed, you have committed treason and will be put to death. Even if you escaped, eventually, you would be found and put to death. No matter what you decide to do at this point, eventually, death will be the result. The choice is either fast or slow.”

  Solomon nodded his understanding. There was nothing else to say on the matter. Together they finished the climb up the winding staircase to Solomon’s room. Solomon entered his room, closing the door on Robert as Robert made himself comfy. Solomon’s room was cluttered with experiments, completed or otherwise. He wasted no time retrieving proper clothes for extended time outdoors and changing. He grabbed a rucksack and shoved a few changes of clothes into the bag, just in case. Various types of armour lay in a corner, but Solomon dismissed it after a glace. He did not need plate armour or chainmail – what he needed was his custom-made gear, a mix of plate armour, chainmail, and blackened leather. He had padded it with sooty cotton to minimize the chance of armour catching and clanking during a hunt. Solomon opened the wardrobe at the back of the room and put on the gear, rounding out the look with a fine chainmail cloak with an embedded cotton cloth layer. Adorning the cape, he pulled up the hood and felt the familiar and comforting weight of his forged gear settle around him. Finally, he pulled on his boots. Like every other piece of armour, these too were specially made to be silent yet deceptively protective.

  Catching sight of himself in a mirror, Solomon snorted, reminded of a story that Lady Caroline would tell Zaria as a child about a legendary nobleman who loved adventure. Solomon moved to a window and could just make out Cortana leaving the courtyard for his sanctuary from the window’s ledge. Cortana was fleet-footed and agile; it would not take her very long to reach the protections of his sanctuary grounds. From there, she could monitor the surrounding forest with ease and comfort while directing Solomon’s search.

  Shaking such thoughts from his head, Solomon moved to grab his swords from the wall. They glinted hungrily as he handled them. Solomon belted them on and then went to retrieve his daggers from a drawer. These he sheathed all over his body – four around his waist, three on each leg, one on each arm, and two on each boot.

  Solomon walked as if he were going to exit through the door that Robert was guarding but moved inward slightly at the last moment. He pushed on a stone near the door, and a secret passageway entrance swung outwards with ghostly silence. This passageway was narrow and difficult to use due to the curved nature of the structure. Still, it would allow Solomon to leave his quarters without being seen. He worked his way down to the main level and made his way towards where the princess had likely entered the passageways herself. Near the courtyard, Solomon exited the darkness of the corridors and breathed the fresh air. He headed to the courtyard’s eastern side, keeping an eye on the ground for footprints on the muddy grassy.

  Near the courtyard wall, he found her tracks leading straight to several thorny bushes. Confirming that it was the princess was simple. Snagged into the thorns were materials from her dress. Behind the thorn bush, the princess had not even bothered to seal the passageway. Solomon entered it, closing it behind him and summoned a small light to track her route. After several minutes, the path split it doubling back. Solomon went to check where she popped out. He very quickly emerged into an empty guard room. Based on the positioning, the other path would have appeared in the mud next to the drawbridge. He closed the secret doorway. The time to hide was passed. It was time to track the princess or flee the village.

  Turning from the closed doorway, Solomon placed his gaze on the food supplied intended for the gate guards. He walked up to the food and added it to his rucksack for later. Food would be in short supply in the wilds. He left the gatehouse to make his way into the city.

  The guards went silent as they spotted Solomon. After a moment, the leftmost guard approached Solomon, tugging himself free of his companion as he did so. He gave Solomon a respectful nod before speaking. “My lord, Solomon, were you not confined to your room?”

  Solomon started at the sound of his, no, her tired yet melodic voice. He replied, “I was, yes, but I find disobedience such as this comes readily when a death sentence lies on my head.”

  “Is it true that you love Zaria dearly?” The guardswoman asked.

  “She is my friend and precious to me,” Solomon answered, unfazed. It was not the first time a guard or villager had asked him such a question. Often enough, it was to crack a joke at Solomon’s expense. Under the circumstances, Solomon gave the guard a searching look.

  Under his gaze, the guardswoman shifted her hand on her side, revealing a bloody bandage. It was not necessarily a mortal wound, but neither was it a shallow gash. Her grimace at the movement was telling. Noticing his stare, she explained. “We were attacked shortly after leaving the town. It happened quite fast; I barely drew my sword. An orc did this, I think. Not one of the goblins.”

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  Solomon started as he recognized her as one of Zaria’s guardswomen. Solomon began to think about how he could secretly heal her but quickly realized that he no longer needed to bother worrying about nonsense governing whether he could wield magic. He stepped in close to her and pulled her arm away from the wound. She made a protesting noise but was too weak from blood loss to resist his actions. Placing his hand over the wound, Solomon closed his eyes, probing the laceration with his mind. The injury was deeper and more severe than the guardswoman was letting on. She would die of it if not treated. Yet it was a simple cut and would be simple to bind back together.

  A radiance glimmered around Solomon’s hand. The glow seeped from his hand to the guardswoman’s injury. The magics’ effects were near instantaneous – the flesh of the wound sealed as if it never were parted. The other guard gasped while the guardswoman felt her side. She grinned as her life energy returned to her… a marked feeling as though the shadow of death had lifted its’ presence.

  The other guard spoke, “What did you do?”

  “It was just a bit of restoration magic – a healing spell to bind wounds closed,” Solomon answered. “Now, I do not suppose you will give me your names? I did not know we had any guardswomen as part of the regular staff.”

  “We usually guard Zaria, so it is not surprising that you do not recognize us. She tends to ditch us when she wants to hang out with you. Unlike Lord Ulric’s children, you do not have any guards unless we count Cortana. Zaria never wanted you to feel any different from her or Felix.” Explained the guardswoman that Solomon had just healed. “My name is Chrysame, and my friend here is my twin sister Telesilla.”

  “Well met,” Solomon said.

  “My thanks for healing my sister – I do not know what I would have done if she had died on me. She is the brains of our duo; I am merely the brawn.” Telesilla said. “Chrys, if you are up to it, we should head back out to help.”

  “I am fine now,” Chrysame said.

  “You will need to watch your side. Otherwise, the wound will open up again, and you will die.” Solomon warned her. “I know it feels like the sword never cut your body, but it did. I have merely patched you together so that you are likely to live.”

  Telesilla nodded her understanding. “Again, our thanks, my lord. Why have we never heard of your magical abilities before this?”

  “It is a long story,” Solomon said as he rolled his eyes. “Suffice it to say, I was told I would be trained in the arts of battle, but my interest did not end at hacking and slashing my opponents? As you may know, it is pretty much taboo to wield magic as a sword slinger.”

  “That is why you have a death sentence on your head?” Chrysame asked, appalled.

  “Pretty much. So, I escaped from my room and planned to join the hunt for the princess to hopefully help my case. I was told by the… soldier… the king assigned to guard my door that my death is all but guaranteed and running away would be futile.” Solomon said.

  “In that case, you could join our search party!” Chrysame exclaimed. “As I said earlier, we were attacked just after leaving the town. Zaria had been with us, but they took her before escaping.”

  Solomon could feel the ice in his gut. Saving Zaria was more important to him than saving the princess or even himself.

  “They killed most of the guardsmen when they captured the young lady,” Telesilla said. “I think they may have taken a few others, but their target was clearly Zaria.”

  “What are Lord Ulric and the others doing?” Solomon asked.

  “Searching for the princess for the King,” Telesilla said with a tinge of bitterness. “Lord Ulric wished to go to the aid of his daughter but was not permitted.”

  Solomon did not hesitate to start walking towards the castle exit. “I will go find Zaria, then the princess. I could use your help if you want to come.”

  “Yes, my lord. Thank you.” Chrysame said, dragging her sister with her.

  Telesilla was a touch more cautious. “What is our plan?”

  Solomon did not slow down. “We will go to where you two were ambushed, then I will track the raiders down. I will infiltrate the group and grab Zaria and any prisoners when we find them. Then I will bring them to you two, and you can escort them back. Depending on where we are at, I might bring you to my sanctuary first, as it might be safer than trying to get back alone while searching for the princess. Sound reasonable?”

  Chrysame made a sound that seemed like a cross between choking and laughter.

  “So, you realize that the enemy consists of between twenty and thirty of them together?” Telesilla asked, bewildered by Solomon’s aggressive and straightforward plan. “It is not like a single orc ran up to us, killed a bunch of guards, and kidnapped your sister?”

  Solomon smiled to himself with a touch of delight. The news of his deeds and why King Nathair was so unrelenting on Solomon must not have spread very far at all. Hiding his glee at spreading the word of his demon-slaying, Solomon asked them a quick question. “Do you know how it was discovered that I could use magic?”

  “We had not heard. It was a surprise when you healed me.” Responded Chrysame on Telesilla’s behalf.

  “Lord Ulric had recently sent us to investigate a village that had been raided several times by bandits and orcs. When we arrived, the village had been razed to the ground by the attacks. Only a few buildings remained with survivors. We listened to their stories and helped them shore up a few defences overnight before giving the raiders chase. We used magic to spy on them and discovered that they were being led by a demon. The demon detected Zaldimere’s magic and rushed to attack us. Zaria and Felix carried Zaldimere away while Kastytis and I prepared to fight it to buy them time. It was difficult, but we fought it, and I landed the killing blow on the demon. It was named Tichaz’ama.” The two guardswomen fell silent at Solomon’s story.

  They were approaching the castle’s exit to the town. Guarding the drawbridge stood six soldiers, two of Lord Ulric’s men and four of the King’s soldiers. Without slowing or hesitating in the slightest, Solomon, Chrysame, and Telesilla walked past them. Then with a startled yelp – the soldiers had not expected anyone to be leaving, least of all Solomon – the soldiers scrambled to stop Solomon from going.

  One of the soldiers, an aged and weathered veteran from his looks, hailed the group with stern politeness. “Halt there, my friends. You are Solomon, are you not? We are under orders to prevent you from leaving – with fatal force if necessary.”

  Solomon grunted an acknowledgement but did not slow his advance. He was not feeling much patience for the kings’ soldiers and knew that they, in turn, would care little about his story or plans. Seeing Solomon had no intention of stopping, the veteran soldier gave the order. “Lads, stop him!”

  The soldiers rushed at the group, outnumbering them two to one. Chrysame and Telesilla spun to face the oncoming soldiers, including Lord Ulrics’ men… who would otherwise be their comrades at arms. Solomon did not want to shed the guards’ blood, so he made a minor gesture without slowing and imbued his will into the wind. The guards were flattened to the ground by the force of the wind, which relentlessly clutched at them and dragged them all into the courtyard. Telesilla exchanged a brief look of wonder and surprise with Chrysame. Together, they darted to catch up with Solomon as he strode quickly through the town towards the northern gate.

  “That spell will not daze them for long. We need to get out of the township before the guards set off the alarm. Once we leave the town, we should be able to pick up the trail easily. Our original group with the King and Lord Ulric had headed mostly towards the next village along the main path. Still, our group with Zaria broke off early to investigate a suspicious opening in the trees that looked recently made. The earth had been marked up a fair bit, and several trees were badly torn.” Chrysame said.

  A sharp nod was all the reply Solomon gave her. He focused on sorting through the tracking and combat magic he would soon need to use. In short order, they had left the town behind them without further incident and were making their way down the main road. After no more than half an hour of a merciless march, the pace Solomon set, the group arrived where the two guards remembered splitting away from the leading group to head towards the forest. Moving slower now, they approached the edge of the woods. It was easy to spot where Chrysame had been injured defending Zaria from harm.

  The ground was torn asunder, scarred from the battle. Furrows in the soil marked the passing of blades. Arrows pierced the ground. Mixed into the dirt looked to be a small ocean of blood with bits of flesh. In the handful of hours since the twins had last been at the scene, most bodies had been scavenged by animals – wolves, maybe a smaller bear. The animals had feasted on the remains and then dragged off what they could for a later snack. As they looked at the carnage, a shadow of despair filled Telesilla’s face as the sheer audacity of the task ahead of them became clear to her.

  “How many? Solomon asked.

  This time Telesilla made a choking noise, but Chrysame spoke up. “As my sister mentioned, between twenty and thirty attackers comprised mostly of orcs but accompanied by at least two ogres. I would have sworn I had seen a dark elf, but I think I mistook the twisted shadows as an elf.”

  “That explains the heavier set of prints; they are easiest to follow,” Solomon said, nodding. “The attacking group was easily large enough to quickly overwhelm your group… Were there eight or nine of you? It is hard to tell with the way the ground is here.”

  “Including us, eleven,” Telesilla said. “I am impressed that you can distinguish between the tracks at all. The ground looks like a warzone to me. The young lady Zaria, her two handmaidens, and six other guards were with us. At least four of the guards and one of the handmaidens died when they captured Zaria and left Chrysame for dead while I faked being dead.”

  “It was a good play on your part. It is better to be called a coward for such a ploy than to be a dead idiot. We only get one life to live.” Solomon said.

  “With that in mind, I want to remind you that we are up against at least ten times our number. We are significantly outnumbered here.” Telesilla said.

  Solomon’s face twisted in amusement. “Worried?”

  “More than a little, yes.” Telesilla snapped, not appreciating Solomon’s levity on the matter. Even if the young lord had defeated a demon, how does that compare to a battle against numerous foes?

  “You will be fine. Remember the plan?” Solomon asked.

  “You are going to track her down, somehow rescue Zaria, then we will escort her back to the castle,” Chrysame chirped. “It is simple enough; I guess Telesilla and I will remain a fair distance from the enemy to allow you to be more effective at your task?”

  “Exactly, with you two far from combat, you can be placed in the ideal location for you two to secure Zaria and take her to where she will be safe,” Solomon reassured them. “The hard part will be the infiltration of their camp to retrieve Zaria and any other survivors.”

  “Yea, that is kind of the part I have the hardest time accepting,” Telesilla said with a touch of irritation. “There are thirty of them!”

  “I am not super worried about it,” Solomon told her. “My fighting style is adapted for two main modes – assassination in the dark or one versus many. And before you suggest otherwise, I am the one, and they are the many. Since I can also freely use my magic now, I do not really see much of an issue against thirty adversaries that I should be able to sneak up on and eliminate a portion of silently.”

  Telesilla continued to protest, but she had lost her target audience. Only Chrysame was still paying attention to her. Sinking to one knee, Solomon’s mind transitioned to the magic necessary for scouting. The sensation was eerie, creepy, and unnerving. The spell was similar in nature to that of the one Zaldimere had cast, at least so far as allowing him to scout for the enemy. Aside from that core similarity, the spell was crafted in an entirely different manner. Solomon sought to enhance his sense of perception rather than creating a focal point wherein power could be channelled to create a spirit avatar that could be used for searching. Falling to one knee, his sense of self diminished as he felt the stirrings of life in every tree, every shrub, and every shadow nearby.

  While the forest was vast, Solomon quickly blanketed the surrounding areas with tendrils of thought. The leading search party had made little progress towards catching up with the princess’s kidnappers. They continued marching onwards, but the going was slow through the thick growth of the forest. Right now, the princess’s whereabouts were not as important. Throwing his thoughts to the northeast, he quickly found a gathering of hostile, angry souls… surrounding Zaria’s more gentle soul and a few fearful souls.

  Solomon gasped as his strength began to wane, and he released the magic sustaining the spell. His limbs started to tremble once the magic had left him. The strain that the spell had put upon his body had been immense.

  Solomon grinned up at Telesilla and Chrysame. “Well, that was a tad exhausting, but I have found them.”

  “By the love of the goddess, they are alive?” Chrysame asked.

  “Yes,” Solomon replied. “It was hard to sense the differences between the various minds and souls, but Zaria had a familiar feel, so it was easy to confirm once I was in the right vicinity. King Nathair’s search goes poorly, though. The woods are treacherous.”

  “Which way is Zaria?” Telesilla said.

  Solomon gestured to the northeast, already lost in thought considering how best to position their kidnapping of the kidnapped victims. Telesilla motioned for Solomon to lead the way, with Chrysame grinning at her side.

  Solomon walked through the broken trees and decimated forest shrubbery with a bit of bounce to his step. The forest's shade was a welcome change to the heat of the noontime sun on his face. The damage to the forest was immense, which made it easy enough to track the orcs. The ogres left so much damage that it would be hard to stray from their path. The trio marched at a brisk pace following the injury to its’ source.

  After about half an hour, though, Telesilla could not help herself. “So how much longer are we going to be going this way? It is rather hot out, even in the shade, and we have already been in battle twice today. I am tired.”

  Solomon glanced at her incredulously, unable to believe that a guard could be so inept as to be tired with what was barely a brisk march. Chrysame’s laughter rang out in Solomon’s stunned silence. “Solomon, we are Zaria’s guards and have not done any serious duties in years. All Zaria gets up to is magic with Zaldimere – which is boring to watch, by the way – and creeping on you like a stalker.”

  “Point taken,” Solomon said with a smile. “Honestly, that explains a lot, but not why I never saw you two when Zaria was tailing me.”

  Chrysame smiled at him. “While the Lady Caroline would have undoubtedly had us stay with her during such meetings, the girl had a talent for escaping us when you were involved. We actually accused Zaldimere once of helping her hide from us.”

  “So, I take it you two do not know that the castle is riddled with secret passageways that can take you anywhere – including out of the castle, which is why we are even in this predicament today,” Solomon said with wry satisfaction. “Zaria probably showed her new, similarly entrapped friend an effortless way to evade her personal guard.”

  “That little…” Telesilla broke off abruptly. “Are we rescuing the person who nearly got Chrysame killed? Because I may take issue with that.”

  Chrysame interrupted. “You do not mean that, sister.”

  “I guess not. But still, we need to have words with that girl.” Telesilla said bitterly. “No more evasions and ditching us.”

  “Hmphed.” Solomon huffed. “How about more marching, less talking? We have about three hours of hiking left if we hurry; otherwise, if you two want to take breaks, it will probably take us five hours.”

  “It will start to get dark by then!” Telesilla exclaimed.

  “Yes… which might be for the better. Twilight’s shadows are best for an assassin.” Solomon said. “I could use the darkness to our advantage, set fire to the camp to confuse them. Anyways, it does not matter until we catch up to them.”

  They continued walking for another hour before Chrysame needed a break to rest from her earlier injury. While Solomon’s magic had healed her wounds’ outer edges, Chrysame’s body still required time to heal. Most injuries require the same amount of energy to recover regardless of magic to accelerate the process. Solomon could only dedicate a limited amount of his power to heal her wound because otherwise, he would not accomplish much for the remainder of the day – certainly not a dangerous trek through the forest to fight a small army in the dusk while rescuing victims of kidnapping.

  While the twins rested their weary bodies, Solomon fumed at the delay. Closing his eyes, Solomon meditated to regain his stamina and mental strength from his earlier exertions.

  In quick order, they were on their way.

  After several hours of marching through the forest with the odd break, Solomon called a pause. They were getting close to the raiders' camp, and the twin guards needed rest and enough of a plan to be helpful. With no actual combat under their belts and Chrysame’s injury impeding her movements and effectiveness, they were more of a hindrance than helpful.

  “Okay, girls, it is time to plan for the rescue,” Solomon said.

  “Did you just call us girls?” Telesilla snarled angrily. The heat and weariness from their forced marches were running down her temper. “I am older than you, brat, little lord or not.”

  Solomon snorted, amused by her reaction. “Let us be real here. You are both here to help Zaria. If I had not healed your sister, you would both be in the infirmary in disgrace. Besides, I meant it in a comradely fashion – it was not intended as a derogatory term.”

  “Besides, it is cuter than ‘hey guards.’ Makes me feel like we are Solomon’s partners in crime.” Chrysame said. “It is kind of fun. And he could totally kick our butts.”

  “So? Why are we even here then?” Telesilla said.

  “Because I cannot do this alone. There are too many to fight safely without risking Zaria and the other victims.” Solomon said. “To secure their safety, I need your help to escort them.”

  “What are we doing then?” Telesilla asked.

  Solomon closed his eyes and sensed the formation of the camp. The orcs were building fires and staking up tents. From what he could feel, they were securing their prisoners and the perimeter of the camp. “There is a stone formation up ahead. Guard it and wait for Zaria and the other victims to come. Once they are there, do not wait. Run.”

  “Where are we running to?” Telesilla asked. “There is nowhere to go.”

  “My sanctuary is fairly close comparatively. It is defensible by a small group.” Solomon said, gesturing. “Just head in that general direction, and I will catch up.”

  Chrysame reached out and grabbed Solomon’s wrist as he turned to disappear into the twilight. “Stay safe, and do not kill us all.”

  Solomon grinned. “Just hide from the flames near the rocks.”

  With that, Solomon faded into the shadows. He used a small amount of magic to bind the darkness to his form and used illusion magic to blend into the background. Solomon bounded forward into the under bush leaving his companions behind. He needed silence in his attack.

  Telesilla and Chrysame tried to stride quietly through the twilight. Still, their chainmail chimed quietly as they made their way through the gathering darkness. They quickly got to the rock pillars Solomon had instructed them to wait at.

  Solomon gathered his energy for the task at hand. He had read about the spell he wanted for this but had never tried it out himself. He whispered the words for the magic to himself quietly. “In the heat of the night, the light of passion shall illuminate the pathway of souls.”

  In Solomon’s eyesight, the warmth of the enemies’ bodies radiated with the glow of their life force. The camp perimeter was tightly restricted, with sentries both high and low. The orcs and ogres gathered around three campfires. Zaria’s life force glowed with a tinge of blue in the center of the raiders' camp, where escape would be impossible. Solomon ascended a nearby tree. More magic would be needed here, and his control was slipping from his grasp. Between Chrysame’s frequent healings, the search magic, the life vision, the shadow illusions… now he needed to empower his body to perform better than humanly possible, cast magics delayed by time, and somehow save Zaria.

  Nothing to do about it but to start it. Self-doubt can wait till later. Solomon placed his hands on the tree’s central branches and imbued the tree with liquid fire. Magma magic flowed from tree to tree through their intertwined root network. The camp would be ignited, with but one temporary escape route for the prisoners to take. He leapt from the tree to another deeper in. Unlike his first tree, this one contained a sleeping sentry whose neck he broke with a singular blow to the neck. The orc’s corpse slumped in the branches with no audible noise. Solomon spotted a sentry looking right at him, scrambling for a horn at its side, looking across to the next tree. Without hesitating, Solomon reached out with the wind and suffocated the orc. It is searching, grasping hands abandoned their search for its fallen horn to reach for its neck as it gasped for air. As life faded from the orcs’ eyes, it began to fall over. Solomon leapt to the orc and shoved the body back into the tree.

  Solomon paused, alert to the potential that he would be discovered. The camp was not quiet with orcs’ drinking and eating, but neither was this elimination silent. With each death, the likelihood of discovery increased dramatically. Fortune shone upon Solomon this evening as no one had yet noticed the two dead sentries – likely due to their positions in the trees. Solomon made the third jump and stabbed this sentry in the back of the neck. Just one tree away from Zaria and the other captives.

  He took the final leap, jostling the leaves of the tree just ever so slightly. A few leaves fell to the ground, and Zaria stirred as a leaf touched down upon her shoulder. One of Ulrics’ guards tied up next to her noticed Zaria’s movements and glanced upwards. Solomon waved at him, and the guard stiffened in shock. Making a hush motion, Solomon settled into the tree to observe the movements of the two ogres nearby, arguing with a giant orc – likely the leader of the band. The behaviour of the trio seemed off to Solomon. Generally, the various races did not band together easily, regardless of whether the races were human, elf, dwarf or otherwise. A typical orc leader in this situation would have asserted his authority over the ogres without hesitation. If necessary, he would have demonstrated his strength over the ogres to reinforce his dominance over the other orcs. The motions seemed to be that of subordinates arguing amongst themselves about their leaders’ decisions.

  A shout from the other side of the orc encampment drew the orc leader's attention and the ogres. Solomon looked in that direction, and with his enhanced vision, he knew that a dead sentry had been discovered.

  Solomon let the magma magic run wild at last. He felt the relief of a great strain he hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying as the trees in the camp and surrounding forest erupted with an intense flame. The first tree he had imbued burst into a fiery explosion setting the nearby orcs and tents ablaze. The screams of the orcs were terrible to hear as they burned alive. The screams woke the prisoners instantly. Solomon dropped from the tree just as the leaves caught fire.

  Zaria’s eyes were wide from shock. Solomon knelt and touched the chains and ropes holding the prisoners down, and the constraints disintegrated like a house made of hay in the rain. In the heat of the firestorm, with the screams of the dying echoing in their ears, Zaria could only say his name in shock. “Solomon?!”

  “Hi there, Zaria,” Solomon said to her. The guards and others were struggling to their feet. With a quick tug, he pulled Zaria to her feet and into a quick hug. “Listen to me, all of you. We do not have much time; you all need to run. I left two guards to help you about three hundred steps from the camp near some stone pillars. You all need to run that way while the camp is distracted.”

  “What about you?” Asked the guard that had spotted him earlier.

  “I will cause a bit more chaos here, but I will catch up quickly. I want to make sure to kill the orcs’ leader; it will slow them down.” Solomon said. He gestured towards the stones that he knew Chrysame and Telesilla would be waiting at. “Go now.”

  The other guard grabbed Zaria and ran, the maids following right behind. The chatty guard spoke once more. “Beware the dark elf, young lord. He is very skilled.”

  With that, the veteran ran off with the others. Solomon’s mind reeled at the confirmation of a dark elf leader. This was going to be a future issue. Solomon was not about to be permitted to dwell on what the problem would be as certain events required his immediate attention. Primarily that the ogres were rushing over to him, with several orcs not far behind.

  However, the prisoners had made it to Chrysame and Telesilla, so the mission objective had been achieved. Solomon threw a quick fireball to close off the option for the orcs to pursue Zaria further. He turned to face the ogres not a moment too soon.

  “Tetron, smash!” Screeched the nearest ogre, swinging down a massive spiked club. Or rather, what Solomon considered a spiked club at first glance. Solomon drew his sword for the first time that night and braced himself to deflect the blow.

  Solomon gasped as the ogres’ club smashed the wind from his lungs. He had felt more confident fighting Tichaz’ama than he did now facing the ogres. Such strength. And he realized belatedly that the ogre’s spiked club was just a little sapling the ogre had ripped from the ground while charging over. Solomon saw the ogre taking another swing and imbued his form with the weight of a large rock, heedless of the potential consequences. He needed to keep to his feet if he were to have any hope of winning.

  “Tetron squish you, little vermin!” The ogre shouted, swinging again.

  Solomon parried the blow, thrusting it high above his head. He ducked under the ogres’ other arm and thrust his blade deep into its gut. Planting his foot on its hip, Solomon somersaulted backwards, ripping his sword up and out, leaving the ogre with a terrible gash from stern to stem.

  “Tetron, no!” Screamed the other ogre. This one was armed with a sturdy-looking halberd, decorated with spikes and bits of skull. He pulled his friend away, glaring at Solomon.

  Solomon left the ogres alone for the moment, as he had other issues. The orcs swarmed him with their hefty blades. Sheathing his sword for the moment, Solomon dove into a roll as a tree collapsed across several of his approaching foes, buying him precious seconds. Solomon threw two daggers at the advancing orcs. The blades flew true and pierced two of his enemies with ease. Realizing that he had taken the camp so by surprise that most of his opponents were ill-prepared for battle, he drew his sword again. Solomon bolted into his foes, hacking and spinning as his blade sawed into the orc raiders’ unarmored flesh. The orcs died quickly.

  “Who are you?” A voice asked quietly from the side.

  Solomon looked into what little shadows remained in the night, and amongst the flicker of the flames, his eyes spotted the dark elf. The elf had two unsheathed single-edged swords in his hands. Like most of his race, he was deceptively slender with white hair and purplish-black skin. He repeated himself. “Who are you?”

  Solomon met the gaze of the dark elf carefully, judging his every movement. Even the minor shifting of his feet could give the dark elf’s attack away. Solomon drew one of his few remaining daggers into his left hand, holding his sword outstretched in his right hand.

  The dark elf swore. “Fine, do not tell me. Based on the information from Mincatu, you must be the dangerous guest of Lord Ulric. The one with a death sentence over his head… Solomon.”

  Solomon’s mind reeled with the revelation that the elf knew his name. Who was this Mincatu? Solomon spoke warily. “Well, at least one of us knows the other’s name.”

  “Foolish boy. I am known as Det, the third son of Shelia Shalresh. We are the twenty-second house from our throne.” Det took a few steps back to give them both some space. “To advance our house, my mother accepted a mission from the archdemon. We were to back up the main group but monitor for a chance to kidnap Ulric’s daughter.”

  “Zaria,” Solomon stated.

  “Just so,” Det said with a smile. “A pretty girl, that is for sure. She would have fetched a pretty price as a slave.”

  The large orc Solomon had initially mistaken for the leader joined the dark elf, with an angry ogre at his side. The orc spat blood onto the ground at Solomon’s feet. “Tetron is dead, Det.”

  “Yea, I saw,” Det said. “The boy is quite skilled to have killed her like that.”

  “Worth every ounce of gold offered for his head then.” Said the orc. “Dedron, smash.”

  Belatedly Solomon realized that the orc was giving a command to the remaining ogre. He spun to parry the blow but was a moment too slow. The ogre’s halberd smashed into Solomon’s side, lifting him from his feet. The orc swung his axe connecting with Solomon’s arm as he flew. Fortunately for Solomon, the spell he had cast earlier when fighting Tetron had not been released yet. The earth magic granted him a sliver of safety from their combined blows. The orcs’ axe shattered on Solomon’s arm, and Solomon swung his blade out wide, catching the orc with the tip of his sword. Solomon hit the ground fast, sliding. Nimbly he uprights himself, sword and dagger at the ready.

  Dedron charged, roaring. Solomon fell to one knee as if to brace himself and stabbed into the ground with his blade, throwing the remaining earth magic in his body into the blow. The ground below the ogre erupted with fury, shards of the earth piercing upwards and mixing with the magma magic in the tree roots for a molten hailstorm of rocks and fire.

  When the smoke and ash thinned out, Dedron could still be seen by both Det and Solomon. The ogre’s face had been melted away, and holes were visible throughout his form. Solomon felt a prick in his arm, followed by numbness.

  “So, this was decidedly not fun,” Det said to Solomon. Solomon had managed to pull out the dart from his arm and was resisting the poison. “Do not worry; I am not going to try and attack you. I can wait on the poison to take effect.”

  The dark elf surveyed the smouldering remains of the camp by the light of the burning forest. “There had been about forty-four of us here. Not only did you kill everyone but me, but you rescued all our hostages without a single loss. You are worthy of your heritage, dragonkin.”

  Solomon felt his blood pounding in his ears. “I am not dragonkin. I am human.”

  “I was told so too,” Det said. “Somehow, your heritage is not being discovered. I fought the last of the dragonkin alongside my sister in the shadows of this land. We aided Kelth’aziar, the wolf-like demon that brought Ulric his fame. I saw Empress Ausrine tear through our ranks when she arrived with her royal bodyguard. Much the same as you have tonight.”

  Solomon readied his dagger. “I do not understand.”

  “No mortal can weld magic to their bodies with impunity, not even the strongest dark elf, or the sturdiest of the iron dwarves, nor even the most enduring of giants,” Det said bitterly. “Such power is reserved for the guardian races and those who have surrendered completely to the void.”

  The dark elf backed away and faded back into the shadows. With the glare from the fires obscuring Solomon’s vision, he would be at a severe disadvantage if he attempted to track the dark elf. With a curse, Solomon released what remained of his enchantments. He turned and ran, his thoughts churning with the dark elf’s words. His feet pounded the ground as Solomon sprinted after Zaria and the others.

  Solomon felt lightheaded from the poison, but he did not slow down. As fast as he could run, he could not outrun the words of the dark elf – the words of yet another accusing him of being of the dragonkin. Only Zaldimere’s magic had said otherwise, but what if the mage was wrong? What if he was one of the dragonkin? Solomon could not help but feel like it could explain so much while he ran through the forest in the falling twilight.

  Chatter ripped Solomon from his musings as he realized he had caught up to Zaria’s group. They were staggering but still running. Zaria turned slightly and saw him. “Solomon!”

  Telesilla slowed and turned. “Incredible, you are alive?”

  “Alive and well,” Solomon answered. “But we probably should keep moving.”

  “How many are following?” Asked the older guard, the one who had warned Solomon of the dark elf.

  “They are dead, save the dark elf,” Solomon said. “He managed to escape into the night.”

  “Now, that’s a story I would like to hear later,” Richard said. “The name is Richard, by the way.”

  “He is one of my guards.” Zaria supplied. “Kendal and Maria are my two maids here, and Zach is the other guard. I hear you have had quite a bit of fun today with Telesilla and Chrysame.”

  “Yes, fun,” Solomon said wryly. “I most likely have a death sentence on my head. I wonder if General Robert has noticed that I left my room.”

  “You should have seen Solomon, Zaria!” Chrysame said. “He healed me, blew a bunch of guards out of our way, and then marched towards you mercilessly. He is practically a tyrant!”

  “A tyrant definitely describes Solomon perfectly,” Telesilla said.

  Solomon sighed. “I am not a tyrant.”

  Solomon slowed his pace to match the rest of the group. They had made good time, but the path would soon get treacherous. Solomon had built his sanctuary in a secure location that was difficult to wander up to without prior knowledge of the route. A dangerous river that appeared relatively shallow and calm was not much further ahead. Few who attempted to cross it survived, making it a natural barrier. The current was swift, and the river cut deep into the ground. Boulders formed immense currents in the river, which were dangerous to swim in. Solomon guided them to the south to a safer crossing. The river was wide but shallow, only flowing up to Zaria’s knees. They forded it safely.

  “The path is nearby.” Solomon broke the tired silence. “It leads directly to the tower.”

  “I have heard tell of your tower from some of the other guards,” Richard said. “Supposedly, it is quite well constructed.”

  “Brandt said you have a food supply there, fruit trees?” Zach added.

  Maria spoke up next. “Cortana goes up here quite often as well.”

  Solomon could not help but laugh. Who would have known that his hideout was so infamous? “She does. Cortana helps out quite a bit, so I cannot take all the credit.”

  “This is where you practiced your magic, is it not?” Zaria asked.

  “Yes,” Solomon said. “When I first discovered the location, it was just a beautiful clearing next to a waterfall. I felt at home there. So, of course, I wanted to make my own castle. I was always jealous that Felix and Zaria would inherit castles while I would need to rely on their charity. So, I read up on how our ancestors built castles. Most seemed simple enough, but the beautiful ones were always crafted through a combination of skill and sorcery by the dragonkin. Naturally, I tried to learn. I could not mould earth or water at first.”

  “So, how did you learn?” Chrysame asked.

  “Trial and error and lots of stolen texts from Zaldimere if you want the truth. I had a lot of trouble understanding the texts because they focused only on one way of accessing magic. As it turned out, it was not the way for me to leverage my power.” Solomon explained. “Once I figured out the trick to it, everything started to fall into place.”

  “I cannot wait to see it,” Zaria said.

  “Is that a wall?” Telesilla asked abruptly.

  Solomon started. “Yep, we are here already.”

  Zaria rushed forward to inspect the stone wall fencing the sanctuary. “It is well made.”

  Richard walked closer to inspect it. “Yes, well crafted. Thick too, I reckon.”

  “It should be about five feet thick by ten or so tall,” Solomon told him absentmindedly. “The entrance should be around this way.”

  The group rounded the corner and walked through the entranceway. As they entered the grounds, a spell was triggered to illuminate the night sky. A fire was built up with food cooking. As the group gasped, Cortana emerged from the tower with a tray of fruits and smoked meats.

  Cortana spoke first. “My lord, I have prepared a few snacks for you if you or your companions are hungry.”

  “My thanks, Cortana.” Solomon took her presence there in stride. “Was there any trouble at the castle due to my… absence?”

  Cortana snorted, tossing her hair. “You mean your escape? Once he found out about it from the guards at the gate, the general rode out after you. I suspect you are a dead person at this end.”

  “Wonderful,” Solomon muttered. Looking at Zaria and her rescued ragtag group, he brightened. “Make yourselves at home tonight, and head back to the castle in the morning. There should be plenty of food, piles of blankets, and at least a couple beds here for you all to rest up and heal.”

  “You make it sound like you are not staying here with us,” Richard said.

  “Correct,” Solomon said. “Now that I have rescued Zaria, I will try and find the princess whose indiscretion has placed a death sentence on my head.”

  “Why would you help her? Will they not just try and kill you?” Telesilla asked. “Seems like a lot of hassle.”

  “It probably will be a lot of hassle… not to mention dangerous, and even if I succeed, it will be hazardous to my health,” Solomon said. “But it is not her fault that her father is the king, nor is it her fault that he wants me dead. She is not much different from Zaria, and if I can help her, I shall.”

  “Solomon, no!” Zaria exclaimed.

  “I agree with the young lady,” Richard said. “It is risky at best, with slim chances of success. It would be best for us to stick together and join up with the larger group later to assist if we are still needed.”

  Solomon shook his head gently. “If I do that, I am either an exile or dead. If I make some difference for the survival of his daughter, perhaps the king will have leniency.”

  “That is doubtful based on what the idiots watching over the queen were saying,” Cortana told him. “But it is still your best chance. All of your gear is upstairs, so you can refresh and actually wear all of your gear.”

  “Thank you, Cortana,” Solomon said. He bounded ahead of the group and entered the tower. He knew he had little time to waste. The night was on in full now, and the moon was close to its zenith. He changed from the lighter leathers and garb he had worn throughout rigorous combat this evening for his much more durable forged armour. Smiling, he saw that Cortana had also brought a selection of swords, a katana, and countless daggers. While a bow would have been helpful, Solomon was more proficient in magic, so a blade thrown using wind magic was a sure bet compared to his archery skills. He belted on the swords and sheathed the daggers around his arms and legs, tucking a few spares in a pouch attached to the back of his belt and along the sheathes on his back.

  Solomon glanced back down the stairwell, briefly considering leaving the tower like an average person. Zaria and her retinue would try and prevent him from going and would cost him precious time. Solomon laughed and walked out onto his balcony. Peering down, he jumped, using wind magic to propel his body to the perimeter wall.

  The landing was easy, smooth, and silent. Solomon cast his gaze back to the tower as Zaria’s voice echoed in the stillness of the night. Worry creased his brow for but a moment before he sighed. Zaria and her retinue were safely ensorcelled in the tower – protected by both Chrysame and Telesilla. Solomon felt confident in leaving them and aiding in the search for the princess. Even if the guardswomen were to fail in their duty to protect Zaria again, Cortana would be more than capable of protecting them all.

  Solomon’s eyes scanned the forests’ deepening shadows intently as the last rays of twilight faded and died around him. Night had come, and the night was the time of the demon.