BOOK 2: PRINCESS ALENA’S ADVENTURE

PART 1: AWARENESS Written By Christian A. Ciccone: aka Sykonee (~)

Based on events from Dragon Warrior IV

Chapter 1: The Princess’ Lesson Alena, Princess of Santeem, gazed longingly out the study’s window. Her eyes were focused on a flock of birds flying north. Every spring she watched their returning sojourn and the activity had become just as natural to her as the bird’s migration. The princess slowly closed her eyes, imagining her body growing large, white feathers from her skin and wings taking shape where her arms were. A dark, red beak sprouted from her face and, within moments, Alena no longer saw herself as human but as a beautiful, graceful swan, not unlike the ones kept within her castle’s gardens.

However, instead of broken wings like the graceful birds in the castle had, her wings could stretch out without any pain. Alena unfolded one wing and let it extend to its fullest length, flapping it a few times to loosen the feathers. She did the same the other and hopped over to the window, letting the warm, noon wind gently caress her wings.

Within moments of her transformation, Alena let herself fall from the window’s ledge, her wings catching the warm air and keeping her afloat. It was not long before she started to fly effortlessly, taking in all of the wondrous sights of the landscape surrounding Santeem Castle. She could see the flock of birds a few hundred yards north of her, and Alena decided to join up with the flock, perhaps following them to lands uncharted where adventure and excitement would await. She flapped her large wings harder, gaining on the lazy flock with every stroke. Unfortunately, she quickly found herself beginning to struggle, her wings becoming heavier and the flock moving faster. She soon noticed her vision was becoming blurred, the scenery in front loosing its focus. No! she thought angrily. This time I will make it further! Furrowing the brow on her elegant face and steeling her almond eyes, the swan pushed forward. Yet, no matter how hard she flapped, no matter how strong her will might have been, the flock just seemed to be moving further away, the landscape blurring into an obscure blob. Finally, Alena could not move forward any longer and stopped suddenly and violently, as if she had rammed into an invisible wall. Slowly, she looked up, a desperate gaze crossing over the swan’s elegant face. She did not feel weary, and nothing seemed to be blocking her path. It should be a simple matter to continue forward, to take just one extra flap to cross this invisible barrier. However, Alena could not move forward and probably would never be able to. She would always chase after a flock of birds and be left hovering at the base of a great mountain range, never knowing what lied beyond. ...Always to be stranded at the limit of her imagination.

* * * “Princess...!”

Alena suddenly snapped her head up, her eyes wide open in shock. “Aahhh!” she gasped. “I’m awake! I’m awake!” “You weren’t just a second ago,” came an aged voice from behind her. Alena turned around to find her tutor, Brey. He was an aged man with deeply tanned skin and balding, white hair. The numerous lines in his face and hunched walking form indicated the old tutor had seen more years than anyone the princess knew. Since her father, the King of Santeem, was the only family she had left, Brey had involuntarily become the grandfatherly figure of her life. He walked around the study table Alena was sitting at and slowly sat down, easing himself into the chair. He sat relatively still for a moment, save a few, long strokes of his long, white whiskers. His eyes, mostly buried beneath thick, white eyebrows, squinted at her with a disapproving glare.

Alena fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat. It was bad enough her full-bodied, beige dress was just a little too snug on her, something not really recommended on a warm day like this. Now she had to deal with her tutor’s incriminating expression as well. The things she had to put up with just to keep up appearances.

Finally, Brey shook his head, muttering, “Honestly, I leave you for less than a minute, and you’re

sleeping. How do you ever expect to learn anything like this?”

“It’s not my fault,” Alena said, her smooth, delicate face forming into a pout. “This stuff is so boring.” “Is it?” Brey asked, leaning forward. “Do you truly find your lineage to be completely irrelevant?” “Well, yeah,” Alena replied before she thought. Brey looked at her for a moment. Alena stared back. Whenever Brey cast a kind of a look that seemed to ask for more of an explanation, Alena had come to realize she had let her emotions let her do the talking. And, as an heir apparent, she was constantly reminded not to do it, as it was unbecoming traits of a princess.

She then thought about what she had said and realized her words had not come out exactly as she

meant. “What I mean is...” she began, trying to cover her error. However, Brey’s probing expression made her forget.

Finally, she fell back into her chair, shaking her head. “Damn it!” she casually cursed as she

gazed outside. “I don’t know. What is it you want me to do?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” Brey said, leaning back into his chair as well. “What?” “What is it that you want to do?” he asked, clarifying his statement. “What do you want to get out of these lessons?” Alena looked at Brey for a moment. Very rarely was she asked of her personal opinion, especially from the old man sitting across from her. His words shocked her, and the princess was at a loss for words. “Well, I...” she began, her eyes wide open in surprise.

Her thoughts began to race, a dozen things coming to mind. There were plenty of topics Alena wanted to raise but she did not know whether any of them were appropriate, especially as none of them would relate to the lesson in Santeem’s history she was supposed to be studying.

Finally, she flopped back into her chair, an exasperated sigh escaping her mouth. “I don’t know,” she muttered again, risking a stern lecture in the chance of expressing her feelings. Alena’s gaze strayed to the window again, adding, “Anything but this.” “Such as?” Brey said, raising an aged eyebrow. A tiny smile crept onto the princess’ mouth, a little thankful her tutor was at least curious about her personal opinions.

A dreamy gaze filled Alena’s eyes as she let her sight lose itself on her country’s relatively flat horizon. “I guess just seeing more of the world,” she said, twirling her shoulder-length, auburn hair with a finger.

“And how do you propose we do that?” Brey asked, somewhat cynically. Alena’s brow started to furrow and a bit of anger welled up inside of her. When her dreams were concerned, she did not enjoy being mocked.

“You want to know what I mean?” she said, her voices raising a little as she faced her tutor. “I mean I want to get out of this bloody castle and go exploring a bit, even if it’s just a little bit from the castle.”

“Princess-” Brey started but he was quickly cut off. “And don’t go lecturing me about how I cannot,” Alena said, her voice raising with every word. “I’ve heard it all of my life, how it will be dangerous for me to venture out of the castle unprotected.” She leaned forward, eyeing Brey with steel eyes. “Tell me, what good are these combat skills Hun taught me before he left if I can’t use them?” Brey tried to respond but Alena did not even wait for him to speak, her anger getting the better of her emotions. “They are good for nothing!” she said. “Everywhere I go, Cristo will protect me from everything.” She quickly stood up, slamming her fists into the table. “Once, just once, I would like to fend for myself!” “Why?” Brey calmly asked, relatively unfazed by Alena’s outburst. “I don’t know ‘why’,” she said, becoming more than just a little angry with Brey for not taking her seriously. “I just want out of here!” Just out of sheer frustration, she grabbed the book she had been reading and threw it at the wall with a growl of rage. Somehow, it made her feel a bit better and she decided to continue her rampage. That would show Brey she was serious.

The closest thing in grabbing distance was her chair, so she picked it up and threw it against the wall as well, screaming with added anger and frustration as she did. It shattered into several pieces, spraying several tiny splinters into her face. The stinging pain made her flinch and she absently touched the area the tiny fragments of wood penetrated her delicate skin. A trickle of blood spread onto her finger.

She heard someone anxiously call her name but her mind was far removed from reality at this point. The anger and frustration constantly being built inside of her, the pleasure of seeing the chair shatter against the wall, and now the sight of her own blood on the tip of her finger spurred forth a burst of adrenaline through her body. All she wanted now was to destroy something, to put the combat skills the martial artist specialist Hun had taught her as self-defense to a more practical use.

She saw the window just a few feet in front of her and, just beyond that, the open world. Out there, she would have to fend for herself against the harsh world, against the elements of nature and the many monsters she was told roamed the land. Out there, she would have to rely on her martial arts, her own strength. Out there, she would be able to prove to herself she was more than just another boorish aristocrat.

Excitement began to creep into her adrenaline filled body. Alena was now determined in her mind to go forward. Focusing her body’s inner strength, she brought her hands together, took a few deep breaths, and violently lashed forward with her right leg, screaming as she did. All of the anger, adrenaline, and excitement combined formed more power within her leg than she had ever known could be possible.

In her blurred state of thought, she did not even aim for the window but for the stone wall beside it. Alena’s leg came into contact with the wall and her sheer power was more than the ancient structure could bear.

To Alena and Brey’s astonishment, her leg did not just break a small hole in the wall but made the

entire face crumble, sending rock flying out. A large hole, big enough for her to walk through, stood in front of the stunned princess.

Brey shook his head a bit then stared at her. His normally beady eyes wide open in amazement. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” he exclaimed, more in a stunned tone than anything. “I...” Alena began, staring at the large gap in astonishment. Not once had she thought she was capable of this! If she could accomplish this in a berserk frenzy, what could she be capable of if she truly focused her strength?

There would only be one way to find out. She would have to practice her skills, making full use of them in any given situation. And she doubted she would be able to learn at the castle, where the only trainer, Hun, had left a year ago to wander the world.

A warm, gentle breeze from outside caressed her skin where a dry streak of blood stained her

cheek. Alena saw it was an invitation.

She took a step forward towards the open wall. “Princess!” Brey cried. “Where do you think you’re going?” “Out there,” she absently muttered, focused entirely on the world just beyond the broken wall. “What?” Brey cried out but Alena was not paying attention anymore. She stepped to the edge of the hole in the wall and peered out. The study room where they were in was in one of the lower towers of Santeem Castle. Despite the ground being nearly fifty feet below, the stone rooftop of one of the lower levels of the castle was only fifteen feet below. Alena would be able to jump from the tower to the roof without hurting herself. Slowly, she began to fall forward. Before she could even lift a foot, however, Alena was roughly grabbed from behind and dragged back in by a pair of guardsmen. The outside world had been so engrossing she had not noticed Brey summon them to stop her. However, Alena would not let this deter her from her plan. With all of her might, she squirmed and kicked, trying to break free of the guardsmen’s grasp.

Her anger gave her an extra surge of strength and she was able to knock one of them off of her but two more came to replace him. She started to scream in frustration, spitting out various curses at everything in her life that had made her miserable. She fought with every ounce of her strength and even began to resort to biting and scratching. Soon, five guardsmen had arrived and Alena was still putting up a strong fight.

Unfortunately, it was not enough. Just as fast as her wings had spread, they were broken once again.

Chapter 2: Humiliation Cristo walked a quickened pace, anxious to get to the Zenithian Temple. He had just received word that Princess Alena was taken there, apparently lightly injured. He did not have all of the details but from what Brey had told him, the Princess threw a major tantrum a few hours earlier and had broken the wall of the study room in the process. Cristo silently cursed himself for not being there to stop her before she did anything rash. As her bodyguard, it was his duty to prevent any form of injury to the Princess, not Brey’s. Finally, he arrived at the temple. As most Zenithian Temple’s went, this one was not very big, perhaps just large enough to hold three dozen people at one time. The main temple in this region was actually located in Surene, a major city relatively close to the castle where trade was centered. Most followers of the religion would migrate there for their daily prayers. However, some of the followers included guardsmen of the castle, who could not leave Santeem Castle at any point. The tiny temple was built as compensation, the past rulers of Santeem realizing how important the religion was to some. Being such a small temple, there were very few priests and clerics and Cristo had decided to put his faith to a more practical use than the average devotee. His studies had brought him close to the ranking of a cleric -- he even learned some of his first healing magic recently -- but the bodyguard was still a few more years of study away before he would be officially accepted into the clergy. Cristo walked down the small temple, his strides taking him to the main altar within seconds. “Father Garrett?” he called out, seeing no one at the study altar. “Over here, Brother Cristo,” came a faint voice from one of the tiny dorms situated on the sides of the temple. Cristo headed over to the dorm and peered inside. The priest was sitting in a chair beside a bed. On the bed, Cristo saw a young woman lying on her side, her back to the door. Just from her stiff posture Cristo could tell it was Princess Alena. “How is she?” Cristo asked the priest without looking, his eyes fixed on the princess. Aside from ruffled hair and creases in her dress, she did not appear to have any marks of injuries from this angle. “Just fine,” replied the priest, his voice somewhat emotionless. “A couple of bruises, nothing more.” Cristo looked at Garrett for a moment, sensing that all was not as it seemed due to his tone of voice. The bodyguard decided to push a little further. “Are you sure?” he asked, looking at Garrett. “You sound as if she’s ill or something.” “Am I that apparent?” the priest said, weakly smiling. Cristo looked at him for long moments, urging him to continue. Garrett sighed and quietly said, “Don’t worry. It’s not her but something else that is troubling me.” He stood up and headed out of the dorm. Noticing Cristo’s worried gaze, he added, “Don’t trouble yourself with me, Brother Cristo. I’ll let you know of it at another time. Right now you have more pressing matters at hand.” Cristo nodded and Garrett left the dorm. Once Garrett had left, Cristo sat down in the chair beside the bed and looked over the Princess. Judging from her breathing, the bodyguard guessed Alena was not asleep, just pretending. Well, someone was going to have to break the silence. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice filled with concern. Alena did not respond for a few seconds and Cristo wondered if she was going to pout all day long. However, without turning, she eventually replied, “Fine, I guess.” Cristo continued to look at her, wondering what was going through the princess’ mind. “Do you require any healing?” he asked, the ‘Heal’ spell he had recently learned to cast already coming to his mind. A muffled “no” was his reply.

He sat still for long moments, slightly fidgeting his feet. There was so much he wanted to say but he did not feel any of it was appropriate for this delicate moment. Instead he repeated, “Are you positive that you don’t require any healing?” At that, Alena turned around, a frown forming on her delicate face. Cristo swallowed nervously, expecting a harsh rebuttal. “Cristo,” she said in an emotionless tone, “you’ve been looking after me for the last ten years. I think I can handle a couple of bruises on my own by now.” She then turned back around. Cristo swallowed again, a bit hurt by her statement.

Still, despite her harsh tone, Alena did appreciate Cristo’s company, even if she would not admit it. His close company with her over the last ten years as her personal bodyguard had developed into a brother-sister relationship. They would often bicker between each other but the wounds would heal the next day. However, Cristo was reluctantly learning that Alena was growing older, and developing into an independent person.

The silence was starting to disturb Cristo and he had to hurry up as their presence was requested in the castle’s audience hall. “Princess,” he began slowly, “your tutor, Brey, told me you were planning on leaving the castle by yourself.” Alena slightly turned her head, but kept her back to her bodyguard. “What if I was?” she muttered. “Alena,” he replied, dropping her formal address, “that’s so reckless!” Alena fully turned around, the right side of her lips raised in mock. Cristo did not appreciate it whenever Alena did not take him seriously and his voice started to rise. “What if something happened to you?” he said, his brow furrowing. “I would-” His voice trailed off, suddenly realizing what he was about to say. No, he thought disapprovingly. It isn’t right for me to feel that way. I’m not supposed to feel that way. I am nothing more than her bodyguard. Just a bodyguard for the Princess of Santeem. “You would what?” Alena suddenly snapped, interrupting Cristo’s thoughts. Cristo looked at the princess again, his eyes mellowing. “I meant...the King would be devastated,” he replied softly. “Well, thank you for the information,” Alena said, sarcasm dripping with her words. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone for awhile.” She then turned back in the bed. Cristo looked at her for long moments, not knowing what to say that might comfort her tormented mind. Perhaps there was nothing he could say and any emotional preparation would only be futile.

He stood up and slowly walked over to the door. He stopped just short of it and turned his head back to Alena. “Princess,” he gently said, “I’m here to escort you to the audience hall. Your father has summoned you.”

* * *

Alena stood tentatively at the entrance of the massive audience hall of Santeem Castle. Light filtered in through several glass-stained windows, each ornamented to represent her

ancestors. Giant pillars lined the hall and a red carpet covered the middle of the stone floor. Aside from the few peasants scuttled within the shadows, obviously awed by the magnificence of their surroundings,

the only other people in the audience hall were a few nobles and lords conversing with one another. They did not seem to pay any heed to the princess’ presence, obviously too busy bragging about some wealthy deed they recently performed for no one’s sake except their own. This suited her fine, however, as Alena was always disgusted whenever one would try to start a conversation with her in that manner. The aristocrats of Santeem were usually very boring in her eyes and she knew they were just trying to grab her attention so they might become a possible husband for the sole heir to the Santeem throne. Alena was smarter than that, though, and would usually make one of the nobles or lords flush in embarrassment with a callous remark.

The princess’ eyes followed the luxurious, red carpet to the opposite end of the audience hall. It was not more than fifty feet across but, to Alena, it seemed to be half a world away. Resting on the edge of the red carpet sat two ornamented thrones, each bearing the Santeem crest: a jeweled scimitar on one side and a phoenix on the other. Sitting in the left throne was her father. On his right, Paul, her father’s advisor, seemed to be conversing with him. The throne on the left of him was empty, as only two people would ever be allowed to sit in it: the Queen of Santeem or, as the case was at present, the current heir to the Santeem crown. Since Alena’s mother had died from a sickness when Alena was only six, the princess had been forced to sit in the left throne for any major ceremonial meetings, usually whenever the royal families from Bonmalmo, Endor, Branca, and Keeleon would visit Santeem on business. She had not noticed it at first but Alena quickly realized her father had been looking at her since the moment she had entered the audience hall. She swallowed and looked back. Cristo was standing there, keeping a reassuring look on his face, as if to tell her everything would be all right. She smiled weakly, grateful for the compassion her friend showed her despite the fact it would probably do little good. The bodyguard nodded once, urging her forward. Still smiling weakly, Alena smoothed out the last of the creases in her dress, lightly fixed her hair so it was presentable, and hesitantly stepped forward. The walk across the hall seemed to take forever. No matter how many steps she took, Alena felt she never gained any distance to her father’s throne. Yet, whenever she looked back, her bodyguard seemed further and further away. She glanced around the massive hall and noticed the nobles and lords were discreetly looking at her, apparently snickering for some reason. Alena’s mind started to fill with humiliation, which in turn became anger at her father for making her go through this. As she drew closer, Alena noticed Brey huddled in the shadows to the far left of the hall, near the antechamber that led to the royal chambers. Her tutor seemed to have a guilty look in his squinty eyes, his head lowered in shame. From what she knew, Brey had informed her father about her spontaneous plan to leave the castle. Was he ashamed of his course of action? Alena did not have much time to ponder it as she eventually found herself in front of her father, the King of Santeem. Paul stepped away, allowing Alena’s father to view his daughter without any physical distractions. Alena met her eyes with her father’s, hoping to see some sort of compassion within his imposing posture. She saw none, as his eyes were as cold as ice, penetrating through her being like a frozen dagger. His face was disapproving, a frown leaking through his thick, brown beard. He began to rub a hand over his beard, never releasing his steel gaze over his daughter. Alena started to fidget, uncomfortable with being the center of attention like this. If her father was going to punish her, at least he should have the decency to be quick with it, not prolong her humiliation. Unless... It suddenly dawned upon her. She glanced over her shoulder quickly, as not to make her father angrier. Sure enough, Alena saw the nobles, lords, even guardsmen and peasants, lightly snickering. Her mind began to fill with anger and her brow furrowed a bit. It was his plan from the beginning to do this. He wanted to prolong her humiliation for as long as possible, just to teach her some sort of lesson. Well,

she was not going to give him the satisfaction of a victory this easy. Alena decided she would break the silence, even if it meant that she would lose face. The princess turned her eyes back to her father, whose stern face had not yet changed. Alena took a breath to calm her anger, then said in an even tone, “Well, I’m here, Father. At your request.” The princess gave a tiny curtsy, just to show she still had some lady-like qualities in her. “Yes,” the king replied in an even tone as well, “I am glad that you have arrived, my daughter.” He kept his gaze on her but Alena noticed his eyes were no longer ice cold; maybe emotionless or even tired. He looked at Paul for a moment whom nodded at the king. Alena noticed and was confused. Was Paul giving advice to her father on how to discipline his child? It made a bit of sense as Paul was a family man himself. However, he only had a pair of sons. What would he know of disciplining a daughter? “Alena,” the king finally said, dropping any formal address, “your tutor informed me you were planning on leaving the castle unattended. Is this true?” “Yes,” she quietly replied, her head bowed low. “And am I to believe you were leaving with the intentions of testing your strength and will against the outside world?” he asked. Alena looked at her father, a little stunned. How exactly did he find out about her real intentions for leaving the castle? As far as she knew, those thoughts had remained in her head, unless she had spoken them out loud at one point. Had she done that in the study? Had she been in such a daze she did not even know when she was speaking out loud? If that was the case, and Brey overheard her… A terrible thought entered her mind, her eyes widening in horror as she nearly gasped in a panic. Her mouth stuttered for a second in a vain effort to organize her defense. “There were…there were….circumstances, father!” she cried, horror filling her heart. “These are not of the issue!” her father replied sternly, glaring at his daughter. Alena flinched at his sudden outburst but managed to keep her stance, afraid to appear weak in front of so many people. The King of Santeem looked at her for a moment, then slowly relaxed back in his throne. “Your actions earlier today prove the potential for you undertaking such a journey are a reality.” He paused, choosing his next words carefully. “I forbid it! You are the Princess of this country and I cannot have you roaming the lands where danger lurks.” “Father-” Alena began but was immediately cut off. “Silence!” the king nearly shouted, his face flushing into a dark red. “You are to be kept under surveillance by at least one guardsman at all times! You are never to leave this castle, even for diplomatic trips!” He leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “Do I make myself clear?” Alena painfully tried to swallow her suffering, tears welling up in her eyes. Never had she known her father to be this vehemently angry with her. Such an outburst could only wreak havoc on her emotions. Her eyes lowered. “Yes,” she muttered, her voice cracking. The king leaned back, though his posture was still stiff and rigid. “Brey,” he called over to where the old tutor was standing. He hobbled over, his oak walking staff clacking on the stone floor. “Escort the Princess to her room.” “Yes, your Highness,” he said, and motioned for Alena to follow him.

The princess did not even glance up, knowing exactly where she was to go and wishing the audience hall not to see the few tears running down her cheeks.

Chapter 3: A Door To Everywhere “Princess,” Brey said as they slowly walked down the hall to the royal chambers, “why are you such a tomboy?” His voice was not meant to be sarcastic or disapproving. Rather, he was full of puzzlement, as if the old tutor saw Alena’s behavior as a mystery. “I don’t know,” the princess muttered absently, not even looking at the aged man. “Your mother was so refined,” Brey continued, his beady eyes probing her body to peel back her skin and reveal her secrets. Alena did not respond, staring at the stone floor a few feet ahead of her to make sure she did not trip over anything. The old tutor frowned and turned away. “As your tutor,” he said compassionately, “I feel responsible for how you’ve turned out.” Brey started to go on about many things, most of which regarding Alena’s upbringing. However, the princess did not even notice, her thoughts far removed from her immediate surroundings. The harsh punishment delivered by her father had crushed her hopes of ever exploring the outside world and her dreams of seeing their sights. She would never again be able to watch the sun setting with Prince Reed of Bonmalmo on Mt. Erit. Never again would she witness the fantastic gladiators push their skills to the limit in the Coliseum of Endor with Princess Mia. The open sea voyages to Keeleon and Branca, forever vanished.

Instead, she would watch the four walls of Santeem Castle until she inherited the throne. And, with her father being in fine physical condition, that time would probably not come for a very long time.

Frustration was slowly building in Alena’s mind and thoughts of escaping somehow entered her head. Yet, every plan she tried to think of ultimately gave way to the futility of such a feat. Her father would have people watching her at every moment and escape out the window in her chambers was foolhardy, it being a good fifty feet high.

Depression set in her mind. And with that depression came a stubbornness not to give up hope. However, she would come back to her original outlook, as she knew any hope of escape from her way of life had now been completely smashed. A continuing circle of emotions assaulted her, none of which provided any comfort.

So absorbed in her thoughts was Alena that she had not noticed she and Brey had stopped walking. She also noticed Brey was intently looking at her. “Princess?” he said. Judging from the tone of his voice, it was probably not the first time he said it. “I’m fine,” Alena replied emotionlessly, staring at the door in front of her. Brey continued to look at her. It was obvious he did not believe her but she did not care. There was nothing her tutor could do now to make things better. Slowly, Alena opened the door. Inside was a luxurious room. Lilies and orchids filled every edge of the walls. Several dressers lined the far wall, each containing exotic garments from several, distant countries. Large mirrors lined the left of the large room and to the right was a small window facing east towards the Santeem Mountains. A bed that could fit three sat in the middle of the room, a silk insect net hanging from the ceiling draped over the bed. And, hiding the cold, stone floor of the castle was a bright, ruby-red carpet.

First time visitors could be awed by the seemingly warm aura the room gave off. To Alena, it gave off the cold aura of an underground jail cell. Brey looked at the princess for a moment, frowning, and she glanced at him in return. She did not know what to think of the old man right now. Because of him, she was now in this situation. Yet, she cared for him as a grandfather. His squinty eyes seemed filled with pain. “Don’t worry about me, Brey,” Alena gently said, patting his bony shoulder. She paused, smiling sympathetically. Brey really did seem to have a troubled mind, as his gaze hardly changed. “It wasn’t your fault,” she continued, lightly massaging his aged shoulder. “Something like this would have happened sooner or later.” She turned her eyes to her room, a dreamy haze filling her pupils. “I guess I had it coming.” “You know that’s not true,” he said, grabbing her arm. He held onto it, being as compassionate as possible. He was not used to being in such positions but Brey knew Alena was hurting and she needed all of the support she could get. “Brey,” she said, her voice sounding like it was faltering. “I’d...like to be alone for awhile.” Brey looked up at her, understanding. He nodded, let go of her arm, and watched her enter the luxurious room, her chambers, and now her cell.

He watched as the door slowly closed, and a guardsman took up a position at the door, making sure she did not leave unnoticed. He stood there, unmoving, staring at the closed door, realizing what he had done to a spirited, young woman.

He started to leave, hearing a few, muffled sobs emanate from the princess’ chambers.

* * * Garrett thanked each individual that left the Zenithian temple, wishing them good fortune. The evening prayer had been a good one, the Master’s blessing easing the troubles of everyone. The priest walked back into the temple intending to clean up whatever mess the people left behind. Normally, it was an apprentice cleric’s job to do such but Garrett felt he needed the distraction.

His mind was restless, his thoughts worried. It was only a few nights ago when he had broke open the Zenithian Texts out of boredom. For some reason, the Final Prophecies had eluded him in previous readings, perhaps out of stark fear of when the world’s end would be. According to the Texts, Esturk, the Ruler of Evil, would arise from Vah-Kirgol, a realm in opposite reality of Zenithia, existing purely in evil and chaos. Upon his return, the dark God would set out to finish a task denied him many a millenium ago: the complete and utter destruction of their world. However, the Texts made no mention of when this would occur, not even a hint.

Garrett always was a worrier, though, often fearing the worst in any circumstance. As soon as he read the passage, he thought Esturk would rise the very next day. Of course, such a thing did not happen and the bishop from Surene had assured him the Final Prophecies would not occur during their lifetime.

In fact, not one of the Final Prophecies had shown any sign of coming true any time soon. The first of the prophecies mentioned the uprising of a new world power. Good or evil it did not say but the dominate countries of Santeem, Endor, and Keeleon were in relatively stable conditions (the current civil war in Keeleon was reported to be nothing more serious than lords bickering again), while Bonmalmo, Branca, and tiny Burland were making no intention of usurping another country’s power. An uprising in Garrett’s lifetime was ridiculous.

As Garrett moved among the benches of the temple, he started to hear chanting. The priest stopped moving and listened more closely. It sounded as if someone was praying. Garrett looked around

and saw a figure off in the corner, almost covered by shadows. Curious as to who would stay after the sermon, the priest walked over. As the shadows gave way to the limited light allowed at night, the figure’s features emerged. He was a young man, with hawk-like features. Yet, his face was placid, which seemed out of place. Garrett smiled. It was always like that when watching Cristo pray. “Brother Cristo,” the priest said gently, “why are you still here?” “I’m not finished, Father,” Cristo replied, staying in his praying stance. “Not finished?” Garrett asked, confused. “Whatever do you mean? The sermon ended more than ten minutes ago.” “I have not eased my soul,” Cristo explained, keeping in his stance. “Brother,” Garrett said, placing a hand on Cristo’s shoulder. The priest sat down beside the bodyguard on the bench. “What is on your mind?” “I...” Cristo began, looking uneasily at Garrett. He tried to simply say the words but they just could not come. He tightly closed his eyes, looking away. “I have sinned and I’m ashamed, Father,” he cried. Garrett smiled, not out of sympathy but of amusement. This was a common sight in the temple, people running to him, crying they had committed a heinous sin when all they did was lust at another woman, step on a bug, or told a lie. Garrett knew they were only human and the Master would look over these simple mistakes. Cristo was no different. “What did you do, Brother?” he asked sympathetically. “I...feel such guilt in my soul,” Cristo said, his voice shaky. “When I saw the Princess escorted to her chambers after her humiliation, I felt a great guilt creep upon me.” “And why is that?” “I...” Cristo began, trying to choose his words carefully, “I think it was because I leered at her earlier.” Garrett chuckled but not loud enough so Cristo could hear. Cristo was often doing this, claiming he had sinned because he had leered at the Princess. Garrett could not really blame him. Princess Alena was turning out to be a very attractive, young woman despite some of her tomboy qualities. Being her bodyguard probably made it that much more difficult for the young man who was shaking with confusion beside him on the bench to resist the temptation to indulge in his lust. “Don’t worry, Brother Cristo,” Garrett said, rubbing his shoulder. “I’m sure it’s not what you think.” Cristo looked up, confused. “You and the Princess are almost like brother and sister. What you felt was probably sorrow, not guilt.” “Sorrow?” Cristo asked, his eyes becoming not as strained with guilt. “Yes,” Garrett replied. “Sorrow towards her humiliation, sympathy towards her hurt feelings.” Cristo looked at the priest for a moment, unsure. Garrett made a bit of sense. Perhaps it was only sorrow and sympathy. The thought of that made him feel a bit better.

“Come on,” Garrett said, standing up. “You can help me clean up. It’ll take your mind off of your troubles.” Cristo nodded and stood up, following Garrett as they cleaned the temple. The bodyguard could not help but glance at the imposing carving of Master Dragon in the face of the stone wall behind the podium. From his angle, it almost appeared as though the Master’s eyes were narrowed on Cristo, judging his actions.

Cristo swallowed. The Master would know of his feelings. Would He find Cristo guilty of leering at the Princess when the bodyguard knew it was forbidden? Yes, he would.

Would the Master punish him for his actions, innocent or not? Cristo did not know. Not many

knew the Master’s intent. The few bishops of any region would only give cryptic responses to the question, probably in an attempt to cover the fact even they did not really know.

As he helped clean the temple, Cristo gave a silent prayer to the Master, praying He would not find him guilty no matter what his feelings for the Princess were.

* * * Brey looked at the door, hesitant to tap the wooden face with his clenched fist. The guardsman to his right informed him her sobbing had ended some time ago. She would probably be asleep and did not wish to be disturbed. However, Brey knew he was going to have to wake her. There would not be a better time than now. Sighing, the old tutor gently knocked on the door. The knock was merely to warn the Princess of his presence before he entered so she would not be alarmed. He nodded to the guardsman, who nodded in return. He then quietly opened the door. Brey poked his head in and gently called out, “Princess?” There was no response. The tutor quickly looked over the chambers. A pale light filled the room from the window, illuminating the dark room. The moon was just rising over the Santeem Mountains, nearly full at this time of the month. Brey looked at the bed and saw the Princess’ silhouette through the insect net. Lying on her side, Alena’s body was moving up and down rhythmically. Brey could hear her light, gentle breathing as she slept. The tutor was tempted to just smile and close the door behind him, allowing her some deserved rest, especially after the rough day she had. However, he knew he would not get another chance. If the King kept his vow, he would make sure guards were watching Alena at all times. The best time was now, with all of the guards still unprepared for their doubled watch over the Princess. Also, with Cristo at the sermon, Brey would have an easier time fooling the guards than the sharper bodyguard. Yes, there was no better time than now. Sighing, Brey walked forward. Once he reached the bed, he parted the insect net and gently shook Alena. “Princess,” he lightly whispered into her ear. Alena’s eyes lazily opened, blinking the dryness out. Once she had them opened fully, she saw Brey’s aged face just a few inches from her. Brey’s dark, wrinkled appearance would not be the first thing anyone would want to see the moment they woke up and Alena gasped, jumping back out of shock. “Whoa!” Brey said, holding his hands up. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you.” “Then you shouldn’t sneak up like that!” Alena retorted, easing herself from the other side of the bed. She stepped out from behind the net and stretched, yawning wide. She then scratched her head, mussing her hair even more. Brey could not help but chuckle. He was one of the few people who ever saw the Princess in such an unappealing state.

“What do you want?” she said, lazily walking over to the window to gaze at the moon. Her question sounded more harsh than probably intended and Brey realized it. Alena always sounded like this when she woke up. “Princess,” he began, choosing his words carefully, “we still have a lesson to finish.” Alena looked at her tutor, confused. “What?” “I said that you still have a lesson to finish,” Brey replied, trying to sound as even as possible. “They’ve finished repairing the study room so we can go and finish this morning’s lesson.” “Are you serious?” Alena gasped. She turned her body to the tutor, her eyes narrowing. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through today?” “Yes,” Brey replied, looking away from the princess’ sharp gaze. He sensed she was about to give him a severe verbal thrashing so he quickly added, “But you have to come with me to the study.” “Brey...” the princess started but her words faltered as she saw her tutor’s pleading eyes. “Please, trust me,” he gently said, his squinty eyes mellow. “You will enjoy the lesson. It’ll take your mind off of today’s earlier events.” He added a wink when he finished. However, Alena did not understand what Brey meant. She gave an exasperated sigh, flinging her arms in the air. “Sure,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Why not? I’ve got nothing better to do tonight.” “Great!” Brey exclaimed. He walked over to the door, pausing as he reached it. Turning around, Brey said, “You may want to dress warmly. There’s...a bit of a draft in the study.” He then went into the hallway. The princess watched her tutor leave her room, wondering why he was acting so peculiar. Dress warmly, she thought as she walked over to her numerous drawers. He can’t order me around. Alena decided to wear a white, silk dress. It was a bit chilly to wear at night but she was determined to show her independence in every way she could. Instead of combing her hair out, Alena decided to just wear one of her many feather hats. It was quick, efficient, and hid her messy hair nicely. Satisfied she was in decent shape to present herself to the outside, the princess slipped on a pair of casual boots and made her way to the hallway. The guardsman waiting outside escorted her to the study.

Save for a few servants running their errands, the castle was relatively empty. Alena guessed it was due to the Zenithian Temple having a sermon at this hour. She never really understood the fondness so many people found in Zenithism. While she did not necessarily refute their claims of a powerful dragon-god living in the sky, putting all of your faith and servitude towards His ways for a chance to reside with Him when you died seemed a little too much to be asking for.

In an attempt to perhaps show her just how great Zenithism was, Cristo once brought her to a

sermon. Not even halfway through the sermon did Alena find herself bored and left. She and Cristo had an argument afterwards but all was forgiven the next day, as all of their arguments were.

“We’ve arrived, Princess,” the emotionless tone of the guardsman’s voice said, interrupting her thoughts . Alena shook her head, not realizing she had been daydreaming. The door to the study was in front of her, torchlight dancing across the wooden surface. “Yes, thank you,” Alena murmured absently and pushed the door open.

Inside, two candles were lit on the table in order to allow for reading light and a few books were lying on the table. Surprisingly, Brey was not sitting at the table, waiting as he normally did. Instead, he was pacing at the opposite end of the small room, frantic about something. “Brey,” Alena called out as she entered the study, “are you all right? You seem nervous.” The guardsman followed the princess in, closing the door behind. Brey looked up, a frown on his face. However, once he saw Alena, he smiled. “No, no,” he said, rushing over to the table and sitting down in his chair. “Nothing’s wrong. Just worried you weren’t showing up.” Alena walked over to the table and sat at in her chair opposite Brey. She absently looked at the window, almost out of habit. However, her attention was almost immediately drawn to the patched wall where she had broken earlier.

Did I really do that? she wondered. Few people could muster the strength to break a stone wall. Even her self-defense trainer did not have that much skill. She looked at her fist, clenching and unclenching it as she wondered if she could ever do it again.

Looking back up, she said to Brey, “Well, I’m here now, so why don’t we get this-” Suddenly, Brey jolted and screamed in pain, clutching at his chest. “Brey!” Alena cried, leaping over the table. She caught her tutor just as he started to fall. “What’s wrong?” “Chest...!” he screamed, wincing in pain. “On...fire...” He then let out another cry of agony. “Oh, Master!” Alena cried. She turned to the guardsman and quickly said, “You there, go get some help!” He nodded and was about to rush off when Brey suddenly managed to get up and say, “No! Wait! I’ll be all right if you can get me to the temple. Can you bring me there, young man?” The guardsman looked at Alena, who nodded. She turned back to the tutor and said, “Don’t worry, Brey. We’ll get you there in no time.” She then started to help him up. “Oh, no you don’t,” he said, waving a finger at her as she did. “You’re staying here and are going to finish your lesson.” “What?” Alena exclaimed. “You can’t be serious! You’re having a heart attack and all you can think about is doing my damn lessons?” “That’s right,” he said, grinning. As the guard came over, Brey went from Alena’s support to the guardsman’s. “Besides,” he added, “I’m sure this young man can take care of me.” “Don’t worry, Princess,” he said. “I’ll make sure that he’s taken care of.” “But-” Alena started but was quickly cut off by Brey. “Trust me,” he said, giving her a sly grin again. “I’ll be fine once I’m at the temple.” Alena, still confused by that grin, nodded reluctantly. “Fine,” she muttered sarcastically and sat down at the table, opening a book. “I’ll finish my lesson.” “Good for you, my dear,” Brey said, and he and the guard started to leave.

Just before they left the room, the guardsman stopped at the door and said to Brey, “Shouldn’t we have someone keep an eye on the Princess?” “Oh, she’ll be fine,” Brey said. He turned to Alena, who was watching them leave. “I mean, what’s she going to do? Leap out the window?” He then started to chuckle as they left but not before he gave Alena another wink. This time, the princess’ eyes lightened in realization. She was alone. There were no bodyguards or watchful eyes. And this was the place where she had tried to escape before, only to be thwarted by Brey and other guards. However, no one was here to stop her this time. Alena stood up and walked over to the wall she had kicked down before. Whoever repaired the wall sure had not done a decent job of it. It seemed the wall had been repaired with flimsy, wooden boards. The princess put a hand on one of the boards, testing its strength. Sure enough, the board wobbled under her grasp. Excitement cursed through her body. It would be a simple matter to pull these boards off and leap out of the castle. Then she would be free to roam the country, away from her father’s watchful eye. The dreams that had been crushed earlier re-emerged, stronger than ever. Heart pounding, Alena tore the board off. It easily came off, the nails tearing out of another board behind it. Alena realized it would take a long time to tear off each board individually and she had no idea how much time Brey had bought her, whether his heart attack was sincere or just an act. She was going to have to break through quickly. The princess backed up, glancing at the door to make sure no one was there. She then focused her energy, focused her anger, and now focused her excitement. One, swift, hard kick was all she needed and she would be free. She rushed forward, letting her adrenaline take complete control over her actions. She only realized she had kicked through the boards when she felt a sudden, jarring pain in her right leg. Alena remained unmoving for a few seconds, letting her adrenaline subside. Her vision cleared up as she left her trance and saw a few shattered remains of the boards still clinging on the rest of the wall. Alena peered thought the wall and, through the limited light, saw the thatched top of a room a dozen feet below. Several, shattered boards littered the roof. She quickly glanced at the door. No one came rushing in. No one would be able to stop her. All she had to do was leap and she would be free. “Thanks, Brey,” she said, waving to the door. “I’ll never forget this.” Alena spread her wings and flew into the night.

Chapter 4: Realizations Cristo sat on the bench, hardly moving as he gazed upon the carving of Master Dragon. Helping Garrett clean the temple had proved to be a relaxing distraction from his inner turmoil but, free of any immediate responsibility, Cristo’s mind once again became a whirlpool of emotion. All he could do was stare at the carving, hoping the Master would give him a sign of what his course of action should be. After minutes of waiting, the silence was broken by a loud moan from the entrance.

The bodyguard quickly turned around and saw a guardsman helping an elderly man into the temple. From the wild, white hair, Cristo immediately recognized the old man as Brey, Alena’s tutor. “Call the priest!” the guardsman called out to Cristo. “I think he has a heart attack!” Cristo nodded quickly and rushed to Garrett’s dorm. “Father!” he called out. “Come quickly! Brey’s having a heart attack!” Seconds later, the priest came rushing out of his dorm, wearing nothing more than under garments. In any other situation, Cristo probably would have chuckled but this was no laughing situation. Brey needed help fast. The bodyguard led Garrett to Brey, who was laid out on a bench. The old tutor’s eyes were tightly shut as he was clutching his chest with a knarled hand. Tiny moans escaped his lips every so often. Garrett quickly looked over Brey, judging the severity of the stress. He nodded once and turned to Cristo. “Now pay attention, apprentice,” he said, his voice strangely calm for the situation. “It is best to slowly relieve the pressure inflicted on the heart. Quick healing can cause the heart to beat much too rapidly after being repaired and we’d be back to where we started. Understand?” Cristo nodded. Garrett nodded in approval and turned back to Brey. The priest waved his hands above Brey’s chest and gently said to the old man, “I am going to relieve your pain before actually repairing the heart. Understand?” All Brey could muster was a slight moan. Garrett shrugged. It did not really matter whether he understood or not. The priest just found it necessary to inform his patients of his actions so they would not antagonize him into quick healing instead of proper treatment. He gave a quick silent prayer to Master Dragon to aid him if He could, then chanted, “Heal!” His magical will left his hands and white streams of energy left his fingertips, falling onto Brey’s chest like smoke from incense. The white streams seeped into Brey’s skin and began enhancing Brey’s own healing process, speeding the repair to any damaged portion of his body. A healing spell of this level was only meant to repair a localized injury such as scratches or bruises. Thus, it was with great surprise to Garrett and Cristo when Brey suddenly sat up as the spell had finished healing the heart. “My stars!” the old man exclaimed, looking over his chest. “It’s like it had never been there.” He turned to an astonished Garrett and said, “Thank you, my boy. You have skills that even a bishop couldn’t match.” Brey then patted the priest on the shoulder before easily standing up. The tutor started to walk away when Garrett suddenly stood up and said, “Wait a minute! There’s no possible way a heart attack could have been cured that fast.” He pointed a finger accusingly at Brey. “Just what is your game?” “Game?” Brey asked, raising a bushy, white eyebrow. “Why, you didn’t think that I had a heart attack, did you?” “The guardsman said you did,” Cristo said, supporting his priest. “Only because Princess Alena said you did!” the guardsman quickly said to Brey, fearing he would be blamed in something he was innocent for. Brey’s eyes suddenly widened at the guardsman but only for a second. However, Cristo noticed Brey’s reaction to the guardsman’s statement and wondered why the old tutor had reacted. Alena would not lie about such a thing as Brey suffering a heart attack.

It may have been Brey was suffering from something less severe than a heart attack but just as painful. Anyone watching the old tutor would have thought so. Alena mistaking for a heart attack would only be natural, and surely Brey knew it.

Something suddenly dawned upon Cristo. The Princess had seen Brey suffer from his heart attack (or whatever it was), but had not brought him down to the temple herself. Cristo knew her quite well and she would not abandon a close friend like Brey in his time of need. At least, not unless there was something even more important to her at the time. As Brey and the guardsman were leaving the temple, Cristo looked up and asked, “Where did you see the Princess last?” The guardsman was quick to respond, much quicker than Brey could have interrupted. “We left her in the study,” he replied. Cristo’s stomach suddenly sank. “By herself?” he cried. Before the guardsman had a chance to reply, Cristo ran out of the temple, his thoughts already fearing the worst. He ran as fast as he could, hardly noticing the curious glances of passing people. He hardly noticed the flickering torchlight in the empty castle halls and he hardly noticed the cold draft in the empty study. The first thing he saw upon leaving the temple was a gaping hole in the stone wall. Cristo stood still, staring at the hole in disbelief. He kept seeing Alena, standing at the wall, punching through it as though it were no more than a wall of glass. He kept seeing the Princess leap from the hole as gracefully as a floating specter. He kept hoping she would suddenly appear from a dark corner, yelling out, “Fooled you!”, as if she was just playing another trick on his fragile senses. Cristo knew this was a futile hope, though. He had spent enough time with her to come to understand how rebellious she had become. If she saw an opportunity to escape from her father’s overbearing hands, she would use it. Running to the gaping hole in the wall, Cristo shouted her name repeatedly. It was silly to assume she would come running back upon hearing his voice but he had to try something. Tears began to form, clouding his vision. He tried to scan the night but was yet another futile action. He collapsed at the edge of the wall, tears spilling uncontrollably into the night air. I’ve failed, he thought, his mind at utter chaos. In my own folly of caring about my own feelings, I’ve failed in my duty to protect her. He looked up to the sky, his gaze falling upon the constellation of Master Dragon. I’m...sorry, Master. Please forgive my sins. Cristo felt a gentle hand touch his shoulder and he flinched, not expecting it. Turning, he found Garrett leaning over him, a sympathetic look on his face. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said, smiling. “You did not fail in your duty, as you were seeking guidance from the Master.”

Cristo looked at Garrett, confused. Had the priest just read his thoughts? Or had he become that predictable?

By now, the guardsman and Brey had arrived at the study. The guardsman’s face was in shock, probably amazed at his own stupidity for leaving the Princess unguarded. Brey’s face, however, was devoid of emotion. This confused Cristo. He expected Brey to show some sort of concern, especially since he had earlier thwarted Alena’s escape. Cristo slowly stood up, his knees still a bit weak from his turmoil. “How long ago did you two leave her?” he asked, still looking out the hole in hopes of spotting her. “Not even an hour ago, sir,” the guardsman replied automatically.

“Then she couldn’t have gotten far,” Cristo muttered thoughtfully. The guardsman overheard and said, “I’ll send for a search party right away, sir, and raise the alarm!” He started to rush out when Cristo suddenly held up a hand. “Wait!” he shouted without looking. The guardsman paused, confused. The bodyguard faced him and calmly explained. “If we raise an alarm,” he said, “then far too many people will know of the Princess’ disappearance. Panic and chaos could ensue. And then there’s the King. He’d have our heads if he found out we failed our duty. “No, it is best that we form a very small search party and keep it very quiet. That way, very little information will leak out and, if we’re lucky, the Princess will have been found before morning and no one will be the wiser.” “I understand, sir,” the guardsman said, nodding. “I’ll send for our best scouts. How many, sir?” After a moment of thought, Cristo replied, “No more than half a dozen.” He nodded and rushed out. Once the guardsman left, Brey took a step forward. “I feel responsible for her disappearance,” he said, somewhat suddenly.

Cristo turned to face the old tutor, confused. Until now, Brey had remained very still and silent. Even looking at the old man now, Cristo had a hard time believing that he had just spoken. Brey’s face seemed to be contorted in deep thought, which made Cristo just a little curious. The old tutor looked up at Cristo and added, “I’d like to join you, as well.”

“How can I put this politely, Brey?” Cristo said, rubbing his chin. “I don’t think you could handle an outing like this. We’re going to be moving very swiftly and I doubt you will be able to keep up.” Brey’s face contorted. “Are you insinuating that I’m ‘old and useless’?” he said, his voice sounding agitated. Before anyone could reply, he said, “I have just as much vitality as any one of you. And I know a few magic spells that might come in handy out in the wilderness.” “I didn’t know you knew magic, Brey,” Cristo said, feigning surprise. It was relatively common knowledge throughout the castle that the old tutor had recently begun learning how to perform magical incantations, mainly out of the fact he wanted to prove he still had some usefulness as an old man. Brey saw through Cristo’s sarcasm, though, and quickly put his knarled hands together, doing a quick chant. Before anyone could react, he spoke, “Icebolt!” Water vapor in the air rapidly condensed to form a four-foot long shaft of ice at Brey’s clasped hands. He flung his arms out at Cristo and the large icicle flew forth, grazing by the bodyguard’s clothes before shattering against the stone wall behind him. Brey had acted in less than five seconds.

Everyone stood still, amazed at the tutor’s quickness at casting the spell and accuracy of his aim. The old tutor looked at Garret, his eyes daring him to mock his magic abilities.

After Cristo had regained his composure, the bodyguard said, “I...guess it would be alright if you came.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “If you’re up to it,” he added cautiously, not wanting to invite the old tutor’s wrath again. “Of course I’m up to it!” Brey exclaimed, thumping a hand on his chest. Brey went to the study’s entrance and added, “I’m just going to get a few things from my room. Meet back here?”

“Of course,” Cristo replied. “The scouts will have to study the area in order to find the path the Princess took.” Brey nodded and left. Once the tutor was out of sight, Garrett walked up to Cristo and said, “He really is a strange, old man, isn’t he.” “He’s been around a lot longer than I have,” Cristo said, watching the door. He then turned around and noticed that the shattered remains of the large icicle were already melting into a small pool of water. “I’m sure of at least one thing about him, though,” he muttered. “And what’s that?” Garrett asked. “There’s more than guilt on his mind,” Cristo replied, and he walked over to the hole in the wall, again hoping to see the Princess’ silhouette against the night sky.

Chapter 5: Pursuit

A cold breeze blew through the silk dress, bringing uncomfortable chills to Alena’s body. Shivering, she brought her arms closer, hoping to contain some of her body heat. She had no idea the elements could be so unforgiving.

Sometimes she would walk outside in the winter but the princess was always smart enough to dress in large, fur coats and have a servant carry a torch near her to give her extra warmth. Now, wearing nothing more than simple undergarments and a silk dress, the cold air was already giving her first test.

Alena gritted her teeth, pushing forward. She knew if she could not beat even this simple trial, she would not be able to survive the difficult challenges she was determined to test her strength on. If she could not handle the cold night, she might as well head back to the castle, her head bowed low in shame. Alena could not live with herself if it came to that. As another blast of biting air flew through her dress, Alena silently cursed herself. Why could Brey not have told her of his plan before they went to the study? At least then she would have had the common sense to dress more warmly. A voice inside her head reminded her Brey had tried to warn her but, in her arrogance, she had not paid attention. Alena realized if she was going to be able to sharpen her senses for future endeavors, she was also going to have to be less arrogant. The princess looked back down the road she was walking on, noticing the dim glow of the castle’s lights over the horizon. It had not been a difficult task to get over the castle’s walls and sneaking through the surrounding peasant houses was no problem at all. However, the adrenaline from her excitement was passing and Alena started to realize just how tired she was getting. After all, it had been late at night when Brey had first arrived at her room. She figured at least two hours had passed since then. She looked down the road in front of her and saw some village lights glowing. Alena did not know much about the farming villages surrounding Santeem Castle but she knew enough that the peasant population should be awed by her presence as the Princess of Santeem and allow her to rest somewhere. The princess quickened her pace, eager to get out of the freezing air and into a nice, warm bed.

* * * “Well?” Cristo asked, walking forward. “Definitely fresh footprints,” the man said, studying the tracks in the soft road. “Judging from their imprint on the ground, they were made by someone with small feet and in a hurry. I’d say these

tracks were made no more than an hour ago.” He stood up, adding, “They seem to be heading east, towards the mountains.” “Are you sure they’re the Princess’ footprints?” Cristo asked. The last thing he needed tonight was a wild goose chase. “The prints have a mark of nobility,” the man explained, tracing their outlines. “See how light the imprint is? Normal peasants who walk this road usually leave deep impressions, sort of reflecting their moods. This light impression with small feet could only be made by a young woman in very high spirits. Unless a peasant girl just had a romantic encounter with a knight errant at the castle, I’d say that the Princess is headed in that direction.” The tracker pointed down the road.

Cristo nodded approvingly. Reginald was indeed one of the finest scouts in the kingdom. It was said he could track a slime up to fifty miles, no easy feet since the tiny, timid creatures left hardly any trails.

The bodyguard looked behind him, checking on the rest of the search party. Flail, dressed in a dark, raven cloak, stood imposingly by the edge of the road, taking in each detail handed to him.

Flail was one of the most famous mercenaries in Santeem, having a reputation of showing no mercy when it came to bringing justice to thieves, muggers, and other low-life. His cold, stoic face seemed a perfect match for his notoriety. It was a stroke of luck on the bodyguard’s part the mercenary happened to be at Santeem Castle when this crisis arose. Having him in the party probably increased their chances of finding the Princess three-fold.

Beside the mercenary stood Henry, Royal Hunter of Santeem Castle. Usually sent out by the King to hunt for wild animals for feasts, Henry would often go out on his own to hunt kaskos hoppers as sport. The giant insects, although easy to kill, were usually hard to find and often much too quick for normal hunters. Thus, their wings were considered great trophies for the local villagers. Henry had a good number of trophies in his home and was known to spin wild tales of each hunt.

Cristo had sparingly seen the reputed hunter, often only in the audience hall when he escorted Alena to her throne. Of the few times the bodyguard had seen Henry, the hunter always seemed to have his long bow on his back. Even now, he had his bow strapped to his back even though they were only hunting for the Princess. Cristo wondered if he even slept with the bow.

And then there was Brey, leaning on his crooked walking staff as the searching party stood by the road. The old tutor’s expression still had not changed since they left the study. He remained expressionless, although not stoic like Flail. Brey had packed more than expected, bringing his spell book and a few changes of clothes. It seemed as though he was expecting the search to go on for several days. “Where does this road lead to?” Cristo asked. He did not have a firm hold on the layout of the Santeem country, usually going only wherever Alena went. “To a few of the farming villages,” Henry replied. “Weser, Sant, and Serning, I believe.” “Knowing the Princess,” added Flail, his voice deep, “she will seek shelter in one of those villages for the night. She is not one to remain out in the cold elements for long when warm food, fires, and beds are abroad.” Cristo nodded in agreement. Flail was known to have a strange ability of getting to understand the behavior of the person he was tracking within minutes of learning who his prey was. His description of Alena fitted her perfectly. “We should get a move on,” Henry said, stepping forward. “The air feels like rain and the Princess’ tracks will be harder to follow if they are washed away when the road turns to mud.”

“Rain?” Cristo asked. “What makes you say that? It was only cloudy when we left the castle.” “Rain rolls off the mountains more often then it does in the field,” Henry explained. “The way the wind is blowing to the west, I wouldn’t be surprised if we got a quick, spring storm before the night is over. Look.” The hunter pointed at the Santeem Mountains in the east. Even though it was night, Cristo could tell the sky over the mountains were filled with clouds, blotting out the stars. The faint glow of the moon’s silhouette revealed their rapid, rolling descent from the mountains. “How long do we have?” Cristo asked as he watched the nearing rainfall. “I’d say about two hours, maybe three,” Henry replied. “Then we’d better get a move on,” Cristo said, waving his hand. The searching party started to move again, towards the farming villages. As they walked, Cristo fell towards the back of the group where Brey was hobbling on his walking staff. “Brey,” the bodyguard said once he had fallen beside the tutor, “you were very quiet back there. You usually have something to add in every conversation. Is there something wrong?” Brey looked up at Cristo, his face still emotionless. “Not really,” he replied in an even tone. “Come on, Brey,” Cristo said, trying to push a little. “I know you better than that. There’s more on your mind than just guilt, isn’t there. What is it?” Brey looked at Cristo for a while, his beady eyes hardly straying. Cristo tried to get a sense of what Brey was thinking but the old man seemed to have an invisible wall blocking any emotion. Finally, he muttered, “It’s nothing you’d understand.” Cristo opened his mouth to argue, convinced the old tutor was hiding something, but decided to stop. It was probably futile to push forward as Brey seemed very closed off right now. Sighing, the bodyguard shrugged and quickened his pace, rushing forward to Reginald to discuss strategy. Brey watched Cristo walk forward, his wrinkled face solemn. No, Cristo, you wouldn’t understand, he thought. You’d never understand that Alena needs this. Heaving a heavy sigh, Brey continued to walk. He knew no matter the cost, he would have to get to the Princess first.

* * * Alena rushed to a two-floor building, huddling her body close to protect herself from the increasingly cold wind. She had just felt a few drops of rain and did not wish to be caught in a sudden storm. Seeing how this was the only place with any lights left on, she figured some one inside was still awake.

The building was not very big but still the largest the princess had seen since she entered the sleeping village. The faint light emitting from the bottom window barely illuminated a battered sign swinging wildly on rusted rings in the cold wind. Weser Inn was simply carved into the sign’s splintered frame.

Compared to luxurious inns Alena was used to staying at, the place could easily pass for their

outdoor latrines. Still, so long as it had a warm bed, she could care less.

Slowly, Alena pushed the wooden door in, its hinges creaking in protest. She peered in, taking in any sights and sounds of the main room. It was a sorry setting.

Several, splintered tables filled the main room, wooden chairs lying upside down on the top. The chairs were in bad condition as well, several of them missing one or even two legs. Anything wooden appeared as though termites or rats had gnawed on them for some time.

The walls were for the most part faceless, although several stains were splattered across their

surfaces. The stains varied in color and Alena had no idea where they could have come from. Above all, a strong, alcoholic smell burned her nostrils and she wrinkled her nose. The strongest

drink Alena had been exposed to was sweet smelling exotic wine. This stench had such a searing scent in it the princess could hardly breathe through her nose.

“We’re closed!” a gruff voice came from the opposite side of the floor. Alena peered around the door to see a bar stand. Several stools lined it, some half-broken, some lying on the floor. Mugs and steins of many sizes lined the wall behind the stand, outlining a large mirror. On the other side of the counter, a large man stood with his back to the door. He seemed to be cleaning a stein out. “This is an inn, right?” Alena said irritably, daring to step inside. She was not used to people ignoring her. She had expected some rough treatment from the local peasants but not outright ignorance. “Yeh...” the large man slowly said, turning around. Alena nearly gasped. Never before had she seen such a hideous spectacle. The man was generally obese, although not completely overweight. His face was covered in a thin, rough beard and short, messy hair fell over his face. Grease stains covered his worn clothes, splattered randomly across a gray apron. The man’s arms, exposed since his shirt was rolled up, held masses of dark hair down to his knuckles.

His eyes, though buried beneath rolls of flabby skin, seemed to light up when he saw the princess.

Despite her immediate revulsion, Alena had been taught some good manners and she promptly kept her mouth shut about the man’s appearance. “I’d like a room,” she said, crossing her arms. “You do have one available, don’t you?” “Yeh, sure do, ma’am,” the innkeeper said, putting down the stein and wiping cloth. He seemed to stare at Alena and she felt a little uncomfortable having the large man look at her in such a manner. She was used to men admiring her simple, cute features but this man was sending out a strange sensation the princess was not used to. It made her want to recoil from him but she politely remained still. The man hopped over the counter, landing on the floorboards with a loud thud which sent vibrations even to where Alena was standing. “Be jus’ a minute,” he said and the innkeeper rushed into a room off in the corner. Alena stood still in the middle of the floor, afraid of moving and drawing unseen attention to herself. The smell of stale alcohol was even stronger inside and a lingering smell of vomit was present as well. She wondered if all peasant villages were this bad. If they were, she was more than happy to have been born into nobility. Eventually, the innkeeper came back into the main room with a small book and a quill pen for writing. He set the book on the bar stand and pulled up a stool, promptly sitting down on it. “Then…” he said, looking at Alena. “Is it jus’ you?” “Yes,” Alena said, keeping her place in the middle of the floor. She had no desire to be anywhere near the large man, guessing he smelled worse than he looked. “That’ll be three gold pieces, then,” he said, holding out a large, dirty palm.

Alena stared at the man in disbelief. He actually expected her to pay to stay in such a run down place. She figured he should pay her for even considering to enter his inn. “Do you even know who I am?” she asked, hoping to shed some realization into the innkeeper. He looked at her for a long time and Alena started to wonder if he was just taking the opportunity to get a better look at her body than to actually figure out who she was. Finally, he muttered, “Rich?” Alena nearly sputtered in rage. “I’m the Princess of Santeem!” she cried, her face turning red in humiliation. The innkeeper looked at her for a moment, then threw back his head and roared a tremendous, rolling laughter. Alena looked at him in disbelief, stunned anyone could be so ignorant.

“Haven’t you ever seen me in the throne room?” she asked. It was difficult to be heard over the man’s loud laughter, though.

“Nev’r been to the castle,” the innkeeper said once his laughter passed. He returned to face Alena again and gave her a broad smile of yellow, rotted teeth. “Y’ gonna pay or not?” he asked, his voice sounding more business-like. Seeing she was not going to be able to convince the innkeeper of her identity, Alena sighed and patted her hip where she usually kept her money pouch on shopping trips in other cities. As she only patted her hip, Alena suddenly realized she had not brought any money with her. She looked at the man, a sheepish look crossing her face. “I...don’t have any gold coins on me,” she said quietly. “Y’ can’t pay?” the innkeeper asked, rubbing his hairy chin. “I didn’t say that!” Alena quickly said, holding her arms up. She reached for the white feather hat she was wearing and held it out. “Why don’t I give you this? It is quite an expensive hat, imported from the exotic Gardenbur country. I’m sure you could fetch a great price for this…” “Tell y’ what,” the innkeeper interrupted, standing up. He grabbed a key from his pocket and motioned for the princess to follow her upstairs. “We c’n settle the fare later. Why don’t y’ get some sleep.” “Th...thank you, sir,” she said, surprised by the man’s sudden generosity. Reluctantly, Alena followed the innkeeper up the steep stairs to the bedrooms above. To her surprise, the second floor of the inn was in better shape than the bottom floor. There were no stains on the walls or floor and the doors to the rooms were in good shape, even better than the entrance to the inn. Eventually, they came to a room at the very end of the hall. The innkeeper swung the door open and Alena peered in. It was dark, having no moonlight filtering in through the single, cracked window. A small desk sat in the corner with a single stool, and a simple bed rested in the middle. There was also a strange odor emitting from the room, as if something was rotting. Alena figured she would have a difficult time sleeping in the room but she was too tired to complain. “Thank you, sir,” she said again as she entered the room. The innkeeper nodded and swung the door shut behind her. Alena stood still in the small, dark room, listening to the wind whip against the single window opposite her. She felt uncertain, wondering what she was doing in such a place. It seemed her entire world had turned around in a single day. Just the previous night, she was sleeping peacefully in her large bed in Santeem Castle, dreaming of the next diplomatic trip she and her father would take.

Now she was standing in a run down room, wondering if she would be able to get any sleep at all. A few doubts tugged at her mind, whether what she was doing would be any benefit. Sure, she had her freedom but was the cost going to be her comfort? She began to re-consider her earlier actions, realizing it had been foolhardy of her to just take off without any sort of preparation. She wondered whether she should continue on her quest or just head back to the castle, telling everyone that it was just a joke her and Brey had decided to pull.

Alena flopped down on the bed, too tired to even undress herself for the night. She decided to sleep on it, going with her feelings when she woke up. After all, it could not get any worse than it already was.

Chapter 6: Awakening The storm came more quickly than Cristo had expected, soaking him through his green and blue apprentice garments instantly. He was not used to being out in harsh weather such as this biting, cold rain whipping through his formal wear. Being the Princess’ bodyguard meant he had to follow her wherever she went. Since Alena was used to the sheltered life, Cristo also was used to the sheltered life. Huddling his tunic close, Cristo glanced back to check the rest of the search party. Reginald, Henry, and Flail seemed to be doing fine, obviously used to the rigorous outdoors. Brey, on the other hand, was having trouble keeping up in the muddy road. Although Henry had been generous enough to loan his cloak to the old man, Brey still had difficulty moving through the storm. Henry had assured the bodyguard storms like these only lasted a few hours at the most. Looking overhead at the clouds, Cristo was not so sure. It had only started half an hour ago but it felt as though it had gone on for hours. Cristo could not wait to find the Princess so they could head back to the castle. Soon, after what seemed an eternity of dragging his feet in mud, the search party arrived at the outskirts of a village. According to Henry, it was the village of Weser. Not much of Weser could be made out in the dark night. Of the few buildings scattered about the entrance to the market square, they were all devoid of light and soaked through their wooden frames. Judging by the lack of life from within, Cristo could not tell if any peasants resided here. From what he saw, this place could easily be a ghost village. “I think we should stay at an inn tonight,” the hunter suggested as they stood at the entrance to the village. “I doubt the Princess will make any progress in this weather.” Cristo wiped his face, brushing long, soaked brown curls from his drenched face. Henry was right. Even these seasoned trackers were having their spirits dampened by the storm. The bodyguard turned to Flail and asked, “What do you think?” “The Princess is a determined person,” the mercenary replied evenly, “but I do not think even she is foolhardy to be caught in rain like this.” Cristo rubbed his chin, thinking about it. He noticed there was a bit of stubble and realized he had not shaved for a few days. A decent shave would be good right about now, along with some warm, spicy food and a dry bed.

The bodyguard shook his head, clearing his mind of such leisurely thoughts. Now was not the time to be thinking of such things. He had a duty to uphold and he would not rest until he found Alena safe inside the castle’s walls.

He turned to Reginald, asking, “How far ahead of us did you say the Princess was?”

“No more than an hour,” the tracker replied automatically. “And this storm didn’t hit us until a half hour ago, right?” The rest of the search party nodded. “The Princess must have been close to this village when it hit, then,” Cristo continued, looking down the main road of Weser. “It would be a safe guess she sought shelter somewhere in this village to escape this storm.” “Are you suggesting we search all of this village?” Henry said, looking at Cristo incredulously. “That would take hours!” “Just a quick look around,” Cristo clarified, sensing his companion’s apprehension. “Reginald and I will search barns and stables, you and Brey can search in the market square, and Flail...” Cristo paused as he looked at the large mercenary, finding it odd to order him around. “I’ll make myself useful,” Flail calmly said, as if he knew what Cristo had been thinking. He strode off into the night, disappearing with the shadows. Cristo shivered, wondering what it was about the mercenary that made him feel so nervous. Shrugging it off, the bodyguard turned to the rest of the search party and said, “We’ll meet up again in two hours at...” His voice trailed off, looking at Henry for a suggestion since the hunter knew the layout of the village better than anyone else. “The only inn here is the Weser Inn,” the hunter offered. “A bit run down, but it should suit us for the night. It’s located near the opposite side of the village.” “Alright then,” Cristo said. “We’ll meet back together at the Weser Inn in two hours. I would like to get Princess Alena back to the castle before the sun rises so no one will be the wiser. I want you all to do your best.” He then nodded to the rest of the group and they divided up to search the village.

* * * She had been able to sleep through the foul stench of the room. She had been able to sleep through the scratching noise of rodents in the walls. She had even been able to sleep through the howling wind and battering rain on the single window in her room. Her exhausted body demanded a good night’s rest, especially after all the walking tonight. Nothing attacking her five senses could shake her awake.

Her sixth sense was a different matter, though. When the door clicked shut, the princess instantly snapped awake. Her instinct warned the sound was not good.

The first thing she saw was a large body huddled over the door. It was too dark to make the

figure out but her intuition knew it was the innkeeper. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, her interrupted slumber making her just a little perturbed.

The large man turned around and she noticed he was only wearing loose fitting pajamas. Although there was limited light, Alena could also see he was smiling broadly. She recoiled a bit, the sight a little intimidating.

After looking at her for a moment, the innkeeper replied, “It be ‘later’.” Seeing the manner he licked his lips, Alena quickly realized what he meant. He took a slow step forward.

Alena weighed her options. There was not much space to move around in the room, so defending

herself was out of the question. She also doubted she would be able to overpower the large man. Her only chance was to dodge and get to the door before he got to her.

The innkeeper lunged forward, hoping to catch Alena by surprise. However, she had been ready for the move and quickly rolled to her left and off the bed. As the large man fell on the bed, she scampered to the door. She tried to turn the knob but it would not move. The door was locked! Before she even had a chance to curse her bad fortune, rough hands grabbed her from behind. Alena was thrown on the bed and the innkeeper quickly got on top of her, pinning one arm behind her back and the other with his hand. She tried to scream but his other large, dirty hand covered her mouth.

He bent over her, smiling a row of rotted teeth. The smell of his breath was horrid and Alena recoiled, struggling with very little effect. He sniffed her hair like some wild animal and rubbed his cheek against her own, scratching her delicate skin with sharp whiskers.

Out of desperation, Alena tried to bite the innkeeper’s fingers. She managed to catch one between

her teeth, causing him to slightly recoil but not enough to release his iron grip. He spit out a curse, then slammed a large fist into the side of her head. Alena’s mind swooned with nausea from the blow, making any resistance seem like an arduous chore

“Don’t be makin’ this harder,” he growled into her ear. “Just so’s y’ know, I’ll cut y’ tongue if y’

so’s much as utter a sound.” Sensing no further struggle from his victim, the innkeeper started to messily rub his tongue up and down her neck.

Alena wanted to fight back but her mind was too dizzy to focus. All she could manage was tightly closing her eyes and hating every part of what was happening to her. Fear seized full control as she heard her silk dress being torn apart. Tears spilled from her eyelids as that tongue as awful as Esturk touched her breasts.

Her mind swam in despair. Why was this happening to her? Was it some sort of cruel punishment for running from home or disobeying her father? If such was the case, then she no longer wanted adventure. And the thrilling and exciting sojourns she had dreamed of, to Vah-Kirgol and back with them! She just wanted to be back home, safe and secure within her room.

A stinging sensation from within her soul caused her to utter a muffled sob. No, that was not it at

all! All she wished for right now was to be away from this horrible man!

Suddenly, such rage as she had never felt before surged within her body, a flaming anger at being violated in this manner. She no longer felt the man’s body on her and she no longer heard the wind howling and the bed creaking. Adrenaline blurred her world, not unlike when she broke the wall at the castle. Frustration at actually giving up, animosity at being violated; it was more than her disorientated mind could handle. Vehement intentions washed over her body and Alena’s scream of rage reached the heavens. She threw her head forward, letting her anger take control of her actions. Had she felt or heard the crack of the man’s face as her skull made sudden and savage contact, Alena would have been satisfied. However, in her fervent state, the princess made no such distinction and landed another quick and harsh blow to the man’s face, splattering blood across her auburn hair. The innkeeper fell off, grasping for his broken nose and moaning in agony. Alena was not finished, though. She would make this man regret having ever considered raping her body.

Once her legs were free, Alena jumped up and threw the man to the ground. Before he had a chance of defending himself, she jumped on the large man and repeatedly struck out with her tiny fists, solid blows smashing his face. She screamed curses at him, although she had no idea what the words meant. So engaged in her bloodlust was Alena she lost all sense of rationality. She felt no shame her exposed breasts were now covered in the splattered blood of her victim. She felt no remorse as she dug a

manicured nail deep into his left eye. Her only goal was to make this man hurt more ways than Esturk could ever contrive.

Alena did not know when or why she stopped. Maybe it was because her arms had grown tired, or maybe it was because there was not much left to punch, stab, or scratch at. Whatever the reason, her wild attacks suddenly ceased and she regained her sense of rationality. She sat still, feeling her body begin to shake. Her breathing became haggard as a creeping realization of she had just done slowly made its way into her consciousness. The princess slowly held her hands up. There was not enough light to show her the carnage she had just committed but the sensation of blood running from her fingers and down to her wrists made her convulse. A voice in the back of her mind told her this man had deserved it but had she gone too far? The gentle rising and falling of the large chest she was still sitting on assured her the innkeeper was still alive but had she done enough damage to end his life? Panic began to creep into her mind. Alena quickly stood up and easily kicked the door off its rusted hinges. No one appeared in the hallway. Good, she thought. Maybe no one heard. Hastily, she rushed over to the desk and grabbed her feather hat. If this man was still alive, she did not want him to have any of her possessions. She started to rush out the door when she glanced at the innkeeper again to see if he was still breathing. She had not realized light from the hallway was now filtering in and she saw the man’s face. Alena gasped in horror, the severity of the attack graphically detailed.

The princess had been sheltered from gory displays such as the one before her and seeing such a thing for the first time would have been unnerving nonetheless. Yet, this was by her own hands!

How could she have done this? What sort of monster was she? Tears of confusion began to form in her eyes, her mind reeling. It all seemed like a horrible

dream; the storm outside, the terrible inn, the attempted rape, and now this man’s tortured face from her attack.

Her tears took take full control of her senses and she ran.

* * * “What are you doing?” Brey asked Henry, trying not to strain his voice in the harsh conditions. The old tutor coughed, his lungs wracking in pain from the storm. Maybe he was getting too old for this. The hunter stopped walking, turned around to face Brey, and replied, “I figure we might as well get ourselves out of this storm and to that inn I was telling Cristo about.” He then continued to walk, hurriedly making his way down an empty street. “Wait a minute,” Brey called out, ignoring the flaming sensation in his chest when he did. “We are supposed to be looking for the Princess.” He hurriedly hobbled forward, trying to catch up with the quicker man. Henry paused, turned around again and smiled. “It won’t hurt to book a room in advance,” he said. He stepped over to Brey and patted him on the shoulder. “And I’m sure you’d like to get out of this weather as soon as possible,” he added.

Brey opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself, realizing Henry spoke true. “Alright,” he muttered, looking down at the mud in disgust at his lack of stamina. “Lead the way.” Henry nodded and continued on. “Don’t worry, Brey,” he said as they walked. “I know the innkeeper personally. He’ll get you some warm clothes and decent food in no time.” Brey only nodded, as he was not interested in the hunter’s sympathy. It was not long before the pair approached the Weser Inn. Brey gazed up at the wretched establishment, amazed at the poverty peasants could actually live in. Reflectively, the old tutor was glad he had done everything in his ability to avoid such a life. Henry walked up to the entrance of the inn and knocked on the rotting door, calling, “Hello?” After no reply came, the hunter slowly pushed the door open, its hinges creaking with decay. “That’s odd,” he muttered as the door opened. “What is it?” Brey asked as he walked up to the entrance. “Bert always locks up at this hour,” Henry quietly said, more to himself than in response to Brey’s question. The hunter quickly looked over the door. It did not take long for him to notice the handle of the door had been smashed. Brey walked up to inspect the door as well, noticing the concern on Henry’s face. After seeing the broken lock, the tutor looked up at Henry and asked, “You don’t think someone broke in here, do you?” “From the inside?” Henry asked, pointing at the handle. Indeed, the lock had only been dismantled within. The handle on the outside was still in decent condition, save a slight wobble. Brey scratched his white whiskers, trying to figure the mystery out. If the inn had not been broken into, why would anyone try to break out? It would be a simple matter to just ask the innkeeper of the place to unlock the door. Almost as if Henry had been thinking the same thing, the hunter suddenly looked up and said, “Where’s Bert?” If anyone knew what had occurred, surely the innkeeper would. He rushed to the tavern, quickly searching behind the counter and into a back room. Brey started to follow when he heard a moaning from the staircase opposite the entrance. The tutor turned there and saw a large man slowly edging down the stairs. He had a large hand covering his face and Brey noticed blood was leaking between his fingers. “Henry!” Brey cried out. The hunter rushed back and immediately saw the large man. “By the Master!” he gasped and rushed over. Henry took him into his arms and gently eased him down onto the stairs. “Bert!” he cried out. “Can you hear me? What happened?” Only a few, disgruntled noises came from the man but the most apparent of these noises was “bitch of a whore!” Brey immediately assumed the large man meant a woman of some sort. “Here, take it easy,” Henry gently said. He turned to Brey and ordered, “Brey, get a wet cloth! Hurry!” The tutor nodded, put down his walking staff, and rushed over to the bar. Seconds later, he came back with a wet cloth. Henry nodded and said to the man, “Okay. I’m going to have to remove your hand. Easy now. Easy does it.” As the hunter slowly removed the man’s bloody hand from his face, Brey gasped. Large scrapes and gouges had been torn across the man’s face, pieces of skin hung like tattered rags from his cheeks, and his left eye was nothing more than a purple mound of blood and puss.

Henry’s face contorted in disgust at the sight as well but was used to grotesque forms such as this and grimly applied the cloth to the more tender spots. The lot of good that’ll do, Brey thought grimly. Where’s Cristo when you need him? Although the bleeding did not stop, the man’s hysteria began to subside and Henry was able to calmly ask him a few questions. “Who did this to you, Bert?” he asked as he dabbed the cloth on his face. “Some bitch,” Bert muttered, leaning his head back in an attempt to stem some of the blood flow. “A name would be useful,” Brey said. Henry shot the old man a dangerous glare and Brey backed up a bit, somewhat stunned Henry would give such a look. “Don’t know,” Bert muttered. “Said she was some princess or somethin’. I didn’t see anythin’ royal.” Both Brey and Henry looked at Bert and said, “Princess?” They looked at each other, somewhat embarrassed at speaking at the same time. Brey waved his hand, letting Henry continue. The hunter nodded and turned back to the innkeeper. “How long ago did you see her?” “Don’t know,” the man replied. “Five, maybe ten minutes ago. I ain’t thinkin’ straight, y’ know.” He suddenly coughed and blood spilled out of his mouth. He grimaced, muttering, “Damn, that hurts!” Reaching a bloody hand into his mouth, he jerked it violently and a loud, sickening crack was heard. A yellow tooth drenched in blood was pulled out, followed by more even more blood leaking through his blackened lips. Even Henry grimaced at the sight. “Third one,” Bert muttered, splattering saliva and blood on the floor with his spit. He tossed the tooth, quietly swearing, “Damn bitch of a whore.” After he recovered from his immediate revulsion, Henry said, “I’ll get you another cloth. I think this one’s soaked through.” The innkeeper nodded and the hunter stood up. As he did, he made a jerking motion with his head to Brey. The old tutor understood and stood up as well to follow Henry. Once they were at the counter, Henry quietly asked Brey, “Do you think it’s the Princess?” “It’s possible,” Brey whispered back as he soaked another cloth. “As Flail said, she would probably go seeking the closest shelter when the storm hit. That would most likely be this inn.” He glanced at Bert, who was still muttering curses. “Besides,” Brey added dryly, “it sort of looks like Alena’s handiwork.” “What do you mean?” Henry asked, confused. “Nothing,” Brey sighed, and he walked back over to the innkeeper with a fresh cloth. Once Henry had joined them, the hunter asked, “Do you think you’ll be all right for the moment, Bert?” “Yeh,” the large man replied, applying the wet cloths over his face. “Okay,” Henry said. “We’re just going out for a moment to find the assailant.” Bert nodded and said, “Go out an’ find that bitch of a whore! Give ‘er what’s comin’ to ‘er!” He then spat on the floor, more blood than saliva splashing on the floorboards this time. “Um, yes,” Brey said, looking at Henry. “We’ll do that.” Bert smiled, showing a row of bloody, yellow teeth.

Henry and Brey stood up and headed for the entrance. As they walked, Brey glanced up at Henry and quietly said, “Nice people you know here.” “Don’t get me started,” the hunter dangerously muttered without looking at the old tutor and they left the inn.

Chapter 7: The Hardest Choice Brey poked his head around the corner of a small, sleeping cottage, hacking with damp air in his lungs as he did so. The old tutor was starting to regret coming back out into the rain. Of course, looking back on the option of staying with the innkeeper, he figured this was probably preferable. The sight of the man’s ravaged face was still finding its way into the old tutor’s head even as he searched the area.

Yet, could Alena have been capable of such a thing? He knew her as a tutor ever since she was five years old. During her lessons, he would sometimes observe slightly violent tendencies during her common mood swings. However, these outbursts would never lead her to seriously cripple anyone.

The more he thought about it, though, Brey had noticed Alena was becoming more and more

violent as of late. At first it had been nothing more than pounding her fists into a table during a tantrum. Now her frustrations seemed at their breaking point, as the study’s wall was first to discover.

This dangerous breaking point was all the more reason her quest was necessary. He figured

Alena’s outbursts were a result of inactivity and constraint, the former being her way of lashing out in protest. She needed to be out in the open country and free from constraint so all her frustration could be vented without harming others.

Or at least, it was Brey’s original thoughts until the incident at the inn. There appeared to be so much aggression within the Princess, even she could not control herself.

What she needed was someone to help her guide that passion into a more practical use and he decided it was going to have to be him. After all, he had been the one to recognize this potentially dangerous personality trait. Who better than the man who had taught her all of other life’s lessons?

So absorbed in his thoughts was Brey he almost did not pick up the sound of faint whimpering over the howling wind. He turned his head in the direction of the sound and discerned it was coming from underneath a nearby tree. Even in the limited light, Brey could make out the form of someone huddled in the mud. The tutor slowly edged towards the person, cautiously asking, “Princess?” Alena looked up and Brey nearly did not recognize her. Blood and mud caked her arms and face. Her auburn hair fell out from a muddy, feather hat in matted clumps. Her silk dress, a luxurious piece of clothing when the tutor had last seen the princess, hung like a tattered, old curtain, exposing parts of her body no one should be allowed to see in a public place such as this. Large streaks of mud ran down Alena’s cheeks, indicating she had been crying. She looked at Brey for long moments, as though all recognition with her tutor was lost.

He sensed this, though, and gently continued. “It’s Brey.” Alena still did not show any recognition. “Your tutor, Brey Soratos,” he pushed, taking a step forward. As he advanced, Alena took a cringing slide away, her eyes wide open in terror. She’s really out of it, he grimly thought. Anyone seeing her in this state could easily mistake her as nothing more than a wild animal.

“Please,” Brey continued as he cautiously stepped forward. “Listen to me. Listen to my voice! Do you know who I am?” He took another step forward and this time Alena did not back away. Brey

smiled and slowly continued forward, gently repeating himself to let the princess become comfortable with his voice. Once he was within five feet of her, Alena’s eyes suddenly turned from fear to recognition. “Brey?” she quietly murmured, her lips hardly parting. “Yes!” Brey smiled, nodded. “It’s me. I’m here to help you.” Alena blinked twice, as if coming out of a trance. Tears began to spill out, instantly becoming lost on her face in the rain. “Oh, Brey!” she cried, crawling in the mud and coming to rest at his feet, streaking mud across the remains of her tattered silk dress. “Brey! Brey!” she continued to ramble, crying with each breath. She grabbed onto his legs, nearly causing the old tutor to fall over. Once Brey regained his balance, he looked down at Alena and sympathy crossed his aged face. Slowly, he removed the feather hat and gently patted her head. “It’ll be all right, dear,” he said, compassion in his voice. He took off Henry’s cloak and wrapped it around Alena. It would not provide any warmth in its drenched state but at least Alena’s modesty would remain intact with the decent cover it provided. “Come on,” he said, gently lifting Alena up. “There’s a shed nearby. You should get out of this weather.” The princess nodded, sniffling back her tears as she did. Leaning on each other’s shoulders, Alena and Brey made their way to the shed the old tutor had mentioned. Once there, Alena sat down, huddling herself to keep warm. Brey stood opposite of her, trying to decide what to say that could make her feel better. Unfortunately, nothing reassuring came to mind.

Seeing Alena seemingly traumatized by whatever happened at the inn made the old tutor regret his earlier course of action. It had been foolish of him to just let her go out on her own. He should have acted more responsibly and somehow devised a way so they could sneak out together.

However, it was all the past now. What was done was done. Now he needed to plan his next

course of action. Yet, how could he tell Alena she was going to have to continue with her quest? Despite what had transpired here, he knew if she returned to the castle she would only become rebellious again. The only way to cure her wanderlust was to make her go through with her quest, to force her to experience the real world and its hardships.

Brey’s thoughts were interrupted when he heard someone shout from the shed’s entrance and his attention was drawn there. “Princess!” The tutor immediately recognized Henry’s voice. The hunter rushed in, rain dripping from his face. “Thank the Master you’re all right!” he rapidly said, looking at her with concern. Alena looked at the hunter, confusion crossing her face. “What happened?” he asked. “What do you think happened?” Brey snapped. Henry jumped, not even realizing the tutor was standing by the entrance. “I’m guessing your ‘friend’ tried to rape our Princess and she had to defend herself. The weight of what happened was more than she could handle and now her very sanity seems to be teetering like a board on a pyramid!” Henry’s face contorted in confusion and Brey heaved an exasperated sigh, looking away. Shaking his head, Henry turned back to Alena and knelt in front of her. “Are you all right?” he asked, concern in his face. Alena nodded once and quietly said, “Please take me home.” Henry nodded and stood up, helping the princess up as well. They started to head for the entrance when Brey suddenly jumped in their path. Both of them looked at the tutor with confused glances. “We really shouldn’t be bringing her out in this weather,” Brey

explained, raising his arms to bar the shed’s door. He then sternly looked at Henry and added, “And think nothing of bringing her back to the inn.” The hunter looked at Brey for a moment, then asked, “Then what should we do?” Brey turned his head around, glancing out in the rain-soaked night. He turned back to Alena and gently asked, “Will you be all right by yourself for a few minutes, Princess?” Alena gave a small nod in response. Brey seemed to grimly smile for a moment. He turned back to Henry and said, “We should go back to the inn and wait for Cristo and Reginald. Once we’re all together again, we can provide better protection for the Princess.” The hunter nodded in agreement. Once Alena was cared for as best as they could with what they had, Henry and Brey started to leave the shed. The moment Henry was outside, Brey quickly held up an index finger at Alena. The princess was confused by his gesture but was even more confused when Brey raised his walking staff and silently followed outside. The rain pelted the shed and, for a while, that and the howling wind were all Alena could hear. However, she easily heard a muffled thwack and the sound of something heavy dropping in the mud over everything else. Moments later, Brey came back in the shed, clutching his staff even tighter than before. His face was contorted in a grim frown. “I’m sorry, Henry,” he mumbled to no one in particular. “You’ve been so helpful to me and this is how I repay you.” The tutor heaved a sigh then approached the princess. Alena edged back, unsure whether Brey was going to strike her with his staff as well. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, slowly putting his staff down in front of him. He then spread his arms, reassuring he was unarmed. “What did you do to him?” Alena asked, cringing from the old man. Her instincts were still dominating her mind and any sign of danger caused her to recoil in fear. “He’ll be fine,” Brey said, smiling grimly, “but that’s not what’s important right now. Please listen to me.” He knelt forward, placing a gentle hand on Alena’s shoulder. The princess accepted his touch but kept a defensive posture. “Do you know why you are out here?” the tutor asked gently. “I...” she began to answer but tears started to spill out and Alena began to sob uncontrollably. “I don’t know!” she wailed and fell into Brey’s chest, nearly knocking the old man over. “Don’t worry, dear,” he whispered, hugging her compassionately. After a moment, he gently moved her in front of his gaze. “Listen to me. You have to understand why I’m doing this for you. It is very important that you do not return home yet.” Alena’s eyes widened. “What?” she nearly screamed. “Brey! Do you…do you…know what I’ve had to…” She was interrupted by her tutor’s finger on her mouth. “Believe me,” he said, “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t feel it was necessary. I’ve probably put my entire life at Santeem on the line by doing what I’ve done. If anyone finds out I instigated this whole thing, I’ll probably have a death sentence put on my head.” “No, you wouldn’t!” Alena quickly said, shaking her head violently. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen!”

An erudite smile found its way onto the old tutor’s aged face. “Trust me, Alena, you’ve already saved my life once. I don’t think you’ll be able to do it again, though.” A confused look crossed the princess’ face. “I…don’t understand.” Brey shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It has nothing to do with right now. “Listen, we don’t have much time. All I ask of you is to trust me. I feel this is my best chance to do something that will not only benefit our country but you as a person as well. Will you come with me?” Alena looked at her tutor for a long time, her mind a dizzying array of indecision. After what had happened tonight, returning home looked infinitely more inviting -at least, it did for the short term. Deep down, the princess knew the exact same thing her tutor did: after the night’s shock had worn off, the desire to escape would return. Unfortunately, by then it would be too late. Somebody would inform her father she had run away and her “protection” would increase ten fold, probably so much of it she would not be able to leave her room. Now was the best time to continue her quest. And, with Brey guiding her, she hopefully would be able to avoid unpleasant situations such as the one tonight. Alena solemnly nodded twice. The old tutor smiled. “We’ll start moving tonight, then,” he said, gently rubbing the princess shoulders. “The cover of night should help us.” “I don’t think so, old man!” a booming voice came from the shed’s entrance. Brey turned around and saw a dark silhouette at the entrance. Although he had only met him tonight, the old tutor could recognize the cold aura Flail gave off at any time. Instinctive fear found its way back into Alena’s mind upon seeing the silhouette and she cringed back. The mercenary stepped inside the shed and crossed his arms over his large chest. “I suspected you were behind the Princess’ escape from the castle. I’m sure our King will be very interested to discover this once I take both of you back.” He paused and threw a cold gaze at Brey. “Unless,” he added, “you have a problem with it, old man.” Brey’s eyes narrowed, desperately trying to think of a plan. He knew he would not be able to fool the large mercenary. And in terms of strength, Flail clearly had the upper hand. However, Brey did have one thing to his advantage... “Get behind me, Alena,” Brey whispered, pulling the princess behind him. If anyone informed the King of his plans, the old tutor would surely be a dead man anywhere he went within Santeem’s kingdom. Regrettably, he had only one course of action.

Master, forgive me, he thought. Clasping his hands together, Brey quickly focused his will upon the moist air and used his magical powers to condense the local water vapor into a solid form. He then chanted, “Icebolt!” In less than a second, a four-foot long icicle formed at his hands. Brey took aim at the man’s heart and threw his arms out, letting the icicle fly forward.

Flail had not anticipated Brey to act, much less use magic. However, the mercenary was still quick enough to recognize the danger. Unfortunately, he was not fast enough to completely dodge the icicle. Flail dove right and the cold projectile of ice pierced deeply into his left thigh. The mercenary roared in pain as he landed and instinctively clutched at his leg. The pain was so immense, his leg buckled when he tried to quickly stand up, no longer able to support his massive body weight. Brey swore at his misfortune but recognized an opportunity when he saw one. Quickly grabbing Alena’s wrist, he pulled her up and ran for the shed’s entrance, pulling Alena behind him. The princess offered no resistance, her instinctive state of mind unaware of most of the events around her.

Realizing he could have no hope of pursuing with his injured leg, Flail reached out with a bloody hand for Alena’s ankle, hoping he could at least stop her and pursue after Brey later.

Somehow, Alena sensed his reaching hand. However, in its instinctive-drenched state, her mind did not reveal the mercenary’s desperate attempt to stop her. Rather, she saw a large, dirty hand, reaching for her body. Her mind blurred with fear, unable to see the reality of the world around her.

Painful memories of the inn assaulted her senses. She would not let it happen again, though. This

time, she would stop him before he even got a chance to touch her.

Alena halted her course and savagely lashed out with her leg, connecting solidly on Flail’s face with her boot. The mercenary reeled back, clutching for his broken nose. Alena took the opportunity to deliver a few more swift kicks to Flail’s head, nearly screaming in a berserk frenzy. Someone suddenly shouted her name and Alena paused, blinking as she came out her rage. Slowly, the princess turned around and found Brey staring at her in astonishment. She turned back and saw Flail, moaning in pain as the large mercenary did his best to stem the flow of blood from his nose with one hand while trying to get a good grip on the large icicle in his thigh with the other hand.

Standing still, she slowly realized it was her that caused the damage to Flail’s face. Unfortunately, she barely remembered acting in such a violent manner and her motives were a complete mystery.

What’s happening to me? she thought, tears forming in her eyes as she stared blankly at the

mercenary by her feet. How have I become such a monster?

After what seemed an eternity, Brey broke the silence and gently took Alena’s arm again. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.” Alena, so confused in her state of mind, let herself be pulled by her tutor, a blank, tearful expression on her face.

* * * Cristo walked heavy steps towards the center of the village although he hardly noticed the thick layer of mud on his boots that may have been weighing his feet down. Rather, his spirits reflected the dying weather around him. Reginald, who was walking just a few feet ahead of him, had mentioned early in their search it would be very unlikely they would find the Princess on the outskirts of Weser. However, Cristo had to make certain he did not overlook any hole Alena may have been hiding in. Finding no trace of her in the many barns and sheds dotting Weser’s border seemed to darken the bodyguard’s spirit despite the several reassuring comments Reginald had offered. Whether he was sincere or just attempting to ease Cristo’s tortured mind, the bodyguard did not know. It did not help anyway. Despite the tracker’s comments, Cristo kept replaying a dozen horrible situations Alena might be in at this very moment, each more graphic than the previous. As the pair walked towards the center of the village, a glimmer of movement in the shadows of a cottage caught Cristo’s attention. “Hold it, Reg,” Cristo said, stopping dead in his tracks and holding up a hand. “I think I see something.” “Again?” Reginald said, letting out an exasperated sigh. Cristo flashed an irritated glance at his companion. “Okay, I admit the last few times have been nothing more than hoaxes,” the bodyguard said, “but I have to know for certain. If there’s even the slightest chance it’s her, then I have to find out.” Reginald’s expression did not change, however, as the tracker crossed his arms over his chest. Cristo sighed and added, “You can wait here. I’ll only take a second.” Reginald kept his frown but, even in the limited light of the night, Cristo could tell the tracker

was somewhat pleased he was not going to have to follow the bodyguard as he chased after another shadow. Cristo nodded once to Reginald and set off to search the area he saw the movement. The area was tucked behind one of the peasant cottages where a few, wretched apple trees whipped back and forth with the wind. It would have been easy to mistaken the rapid shadows the trees produced against the cottage for someone moving. Cristo’s heart began to sink as he saw yet another prayer go unanswered.

Master, he thought, looking up at the storm clouds above, why are you doing this to me? Why do you continuously let my hopes go unfulfilled? Can you not give me some sort of sign I am in your favor?

Cristo stared at the clouds above him for long moments, hoping for some sort of hint. Finally, he looked back down, sighing. He knew it was futile to ask for Master Dragon’s favor on this one night. Such miracles rarely occurred, and then only to the highest ranked bishops of the Zenithian Church. Why would the Master pay attention to a lowly apprentice such as himself? He stared ahead at one of the apple trees, a dozen emotions running through his mind. The bodyguard suddenly noticed something peculiar about the tree. For some reason, he could see it more clearly, as if someone had illuminated the area. Cristo looked around, expecting to see a peasant carrying a torch. When there was none, the bodyguard had a sudden thought. Had Master Dragon answered his prayer?

He looked at the heavens again, anticipating a ray of light piercing the dark clouds to shine on the ground he stood on. When nothing happened, Cristo became confused. He looked at the tree again and it was indeed still clearer in his eyes than anything else. Yet, there were no external sources of light that could be illuminating the tree. The bodyguard wondered if maybe the Master had enhanced his own vision but, when he looked at another tree, it remained as obscure in the night as before.

Cristo shook his head, clearing any confusion from his mind. So I can see this tree better than the rest, he thought, running his hands through his rain-soaked hair. If it is a sign from the Master, then I will take it. If not, then I must be going mad. Stiffening his posture, Cristo walked towards the tree. As he drew closer, Cristo could definitely make out the forms of a pair of people huddled underneath the sparse cover the swaying canopy provided. Hope leaped through the bodyguard’s body and he rushed forward. He did not even need to have a physical identification once he was close enough and his heart began to fly.

“Princess!” he cried, his eyes becoming moist from happiness.

One of the people quickly looked up at Cristo, and the bodyguard immediately saw it was Brey. “Brey!” Cristo exclaimed once he had reached the pair. “You found her!” The tutor looked at Alena for a moment, then back at Cristo, a worried expression crossing his face. Before Cristo could continue about his joy at seeing Alena again, Brey frowned and said in a low voice, “I cannot allow you to take her.” Cristo stared blankly at Brey, wondering if he had heard the tutor correctly. Brey’s expression told the bodyguard he was serious as he stood in front of the Princess. “What is this?” Cristo asked, confusion crossing his face. “I’m letting the Princess continue her quest,” Brey said simply. “As her tutor, I feel this is the best lesson that I can give her; a taste of the real world.” “What do you mean?” Cristo said, concern in his voice. “Has something happened to her? Why isn’t she talking? Did she get hurt?”

Brey held up a hand and said, “You wish to know if anything happened? Alright, I’ll let you see.” Brey stepped aside and let Cristo see Alena. The bodyguard gasped at the sight. Alena was huddled against the tree, staring blankly ahead. Her face was caked with mud and spots of blood dotted her face. The soaked cloak wrapped around her had slipped a little from its weight, exposing the tattered silk dress that did very little to hide her modesty. However, in her state of mind, Alena seemed unaware her naked skin was in plain sight of her bodyguard. “Princess...!” Cristo breathed and he took a step forward to her aid. However, Brey stepped back between the two. Keeping an eye on Cristo, the tutor knelt down and pulled the wet cloak back over Alena’s shoulders, covering her body. “What happened?” Cristo asked, his eyes wide with shock. “I don’t really know,” Brey muttered as he slowly stood up, “but I suspect she was raped.” “Raped!” Cristo exclaimed. “By who? By the Master, I’ll make sure he pays dearly for doing this!” “Trust me,” Brey muttered, “he already has.”

Confusion crossed Cristo’s face again and Brey decided to bring them back to the present situation. “Listen,” he said, “I don’t care what you do right now. You can try to take her back to the castle but she will only try to escape again once this night’s shock has passed. Her wanderlust is far too strong to be quenched in one night. I believe the only way to get it out of her system is to spend some time out in the real world, to let her thirst for adventure be satisfied.

“You can try to take her by force right now from me, in which case I would have to fight you.

Trust me, you know I could kill you with my magic, and I would not hesitate to do it. You could let us go and organize an even larger hunting party, with me as a wanted criminal of the Crown. Fine. Go ahead. I’ll even let you know I’m planning on going to Surene tonight so you won’t have to waste time searching all of these little rat-holes of farming villages. But you would just be back at the beginning with her.”

Brey paused, letting Cristo weigh his options before providing his final option. “Or,” he said, “you can let us go tonight to Surene and give me time to blend the Princess into the town’s populace, for I know the King will send out a search warrant once he finds out she gone.” Cristo looked at the tutor for long moments. His mind was filled with turmoil. Every bit of him wanted to push the old man aside so he could grab Alena and take her home where she would be safe and hopefully forget about this night. However, in his heart, Cristo knew Brey was right. Alena’s wanderlust was something he had seen growing inside her over the last five years, ever since she was becoming of age to experience the world independently. “Please, Cristo,” Brey said, gently laying a knarled hand on the bodyguard’s wrist. “I am doing this for the good of Alena’s soul. As a man of religion, even you must understand this.” Cristo looked into Brey’s eyes, not knowing what to do. “I...” he began before faltering. Suddenly, he heard someone calling out to him. “Cristo!” Reginald’s voice came, “Hurry up, will you! I’m freezing to death out here. You find anything over there or not?” Cristo looked back at Alena, all huddled in a confused state against the tree. He looked at Brey, the old tutor’s expression reiterating his earlier plea.

Feeling his stomach sink as he did, he gently removed Brey’s hand from his wrist. He then turned around and called back, “No! I’ll be there in a moment!” Cristo did not have to turn back around to see Brey’s smile of thankfulness. He knew it was there. “I have just one favor to ask of you,” the bodyguard said. “What is it?” Brey asked. Cristo turned around, neither a smile nor a frown on his face. He looked at Brey for a moment before replying, “I wish to go with you.” Brey looked at the bodyguard for a moment, a little shocked by his request. However, the old tutor soon nodded, understanding Cristo’s desire to help Alena in her growth was possibly just as strong as his. Cristo smiled back, thankfulness crossing his face. “You go on to Surene,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll do what I can to throw Reginald and the others off the trail before catching up.” Brey nodded again, then said, “I...sort of took care of a few of those problems already, but see what you can do.” The old tutor knelt down and helped Alena up from the muddy ground. “I’ll leave a message with one of the city’s gatekeepers with instructions on where to find me in Surene.”

They started to walk away before Brey paused. He turned to face Cristo and said, “Thank you.” He then went on, disappearing into the night.

After a moment, Cristo made his way back to Reginald, feeling uncertain. His mind was in utter turmoil, realizing he had just failed in his duty as the bodyguard of the Princess of Santeem. However, his heart was feeling higher than ever, hoping in the long run Alena would be happy for his actions tonight. Once he rejoined Reginald, the tracker looked at Cristo with a disapproving glare. “You certainly took long enough,” he grumbled as they resumed their course to the center of Weser. “What could you have possibly found back there that would have taken up so much time?” “I don’t really know,” Cristo said lightly, tilting his head to the heavens above. The storm clouds were beginning to disperse as the rain and wind was becoming more sporadic. “Perhaps,” he muttered to himself, “a sign.”

Chapter 8: Blending In “Where are we going today, Cristo?” Alena asked, her voice full of enthusiasm as the pair walked onto the ship. The young man turned around to face the girl who was not even in her teenage years. He ran a hand through his short, wavy hair before asking, “Didn’t the King already tell you?” “He never tells me anything,” Alena muttered, looking down at her feet. “He just tells me we have to leave and my maids pack my things and then the guards escort me to you so we can get on the carriage and-” “Alright, alright!” Cristo said, holding up a hand. “I get the idea.” Her bodyguard knelt down in front of her and laid a hand on her shoulder. Alena looked up at him, smiling. It really was cute the way he always acted like a big brother to her, even though he was only her protector. “We are going to Bonmalmo,” he said, smiling.

“Where’s Bomamo...Bolamo...Bonlamo?” Alena asked. “Bonmalmo is a neighboring country to our own,” Cristo explained. He paused for a moment, eyeing her suspiciously. “Don’t you remember going there before?” Alena tilted her head up at the sky for a few seconds, tapping her chin with a tiny finger as she thought. Finally, she looked back at Cristo, shaking her head. “Do you remember Prince Reed who visited us last year?” Cristo asked. “Yeah,” Alena replied, nodding rapidly. “He was sort of funny, always trying to play that flute of his but only coming out with a strange sound.” “Well, we are going to his country,” Cristo said, smiling. “Where’s that?” Alena asked. Cristo chuckled and stood up, patting her shoulder. “I’ll tell you later,” he said, smiling, “but right now we have to get on board.” Alena pouted something awful for a few minutes, refusing to get on until Cristo told her everything she wanted to know. However, her bodyguard eventually managed to escort the young girl to her room on the ship. Once there, Alena fell on her tiny bed, spreading her arms out as she did. Cristo smiled and said, “I’ll be back later. I have to just check on something.” “What?” the princess asked, raising her head curiously. “Just the guard placement,” he replied, walking to the door. Alena looked at him for a moment, wondering what Cristo meant. The bodyguard realized her confusion but did not want to bother with yet another lengthy explanation. There were other things he would rather do besides teach Alena the ways of the world. After all, that was her tutor’s job. Instead, Cristo just nodded once and left the tiny cabin. Alena sat still for a while, slowly adjusting to the gentle bobbing of the ship. She looked out the window in her cabin and noticed they were already at sea, the sight of land just a thin line on the horizon. Strange, she thought. When did we leave the dock? It did not matter much to her, however. She enjoyed watching the ship sail across the sea. Alena decided to go to the top deck for a better view. As the young girl hopped off her bed and walked over to the cabin’s door, the door suddenly burst open and Alena took a startled leap back. A large, hairy, man splattered with grease stepped in, smiling ear to ear with rotting teeth. “It be ‘later’,” he sneered, outstretching a dirty hand.

Alena’s eyes opened wide in terror. She knew exactly what this man wanted and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

No! Not this time! She would not let this disgusting man get anywhere near her this time. Screaming in a voice far older than her age allowed, Alena jumped and savagely swung a manicured hand at the man. Her nails sank deeply into the man’s face, engulfing her entire hand and wrist. She felt her outstretched fingers explode through the man’s skull, hot gore dripping from her nails. Without pausing, Alena withdrew her hand and let the man drop lifelessly to the cabin’s floor. Blood and brains slowly ran down the young girl’s forearm, dripping rhythmically onto the wooden floorboards. She looked at the man for a moment, taking in the sight of the gaping hole in his head indifferently. It had been an easy task to kill the man but had her methods been too much?

Or had she been too merciful in allowing a quick death? It would have been much more

satisfying to rip out his heart, shoving its pulsating mass into his squinty eyes as his life slowly ebbed away.

Alena raised her arm in front of her face. She watched the gore slowly run down her arm,

creating dizzying patterns across her skin. Curious as to how it tasted, she sucked the blood from one of her fingertips. It was bitter, yet sweet at the same time; almost…addictive.

In fact, so addictive she proceeded to lick the gore off her other fingertips, relishing in tasting the

lifeblood of her victim.

The young girl stopped, a horrible realization attacking her senses. She was swallowing the life blood of a victim and enjoying it like some horrible spawn of the Ruler of Evil! What am I becoming? she thought horribly. Her mind reeled in confusion and the young girl collapsed on the floor, inches from her victim. A thick stream of dark crimson fluid running from the body touched her legs, staining her dainty, white dress. It seemed to soak into the dress instantly, uncomfortably surrounding the young girl with blood.

Oh, Master! What am I becoming?

* * * Alena bolted up, sweat dripping from her skin. Instinctively, she held up her arm. It was clean. There were no signs of gore as she had seen in the dream.

Yet, the taste of the salty blood seemed to linger in her mouth.

Sighing, Alena plopped back down into her bed, staring at the ceiling above her. The night in Weser two days ago seemed like an equally horrible nightmare. The entire ordeal was nothing more than a distant blur now, due to her state of mind at the time. However, thoughts of how it could have turned out still troubled the princess. Had Brey not been there to ease her back into reality, Alena feared she might have gone mad with guilt and confusion in that village.

And, as hard as she tried to forget her violent actions on the innkeeper and mercenary, reoccurring dreams were having a disturbing habit of graphically showing a dark, savage side of her nature. Brey reassured her he was going to help her channel that dark energy into a positive passion, something she could wield to aid her when she took over the throne. Unfortunately, her tutor also said it would take time for her to utilize such abilities.

This did not bother the princess, though. Since she was free, Alena had all the time in the world.

Despite the gory dream she had, the princess still felt the pangs of morning hunger. She leapt out of bed and strolled over to the single chair in her tiny room. On it lay a common dress, the kind she expected most of the peasants of villages to wear.

As she put the dress on, Alena marveled at Brey’s resourcefulness. Not only had the old tutor been able to replace Alena’s tattered silk dress but he had also been able to get a room for the pair of them at one of Surene’s finer inns. Although the inn was not nearly as high class as the one Alena would normally stay at when she stayed in the large city, it was far more comfortable to be in than the Weser inn.

She looked at herself in a mirror hanging above the chair and noticed her hair was in a tattered mess due to her sweating in the night. I really have to do something about those dreams she thought

grimly as she tried to fix her hair without much success. After several failed attempts, Alena finally sighed in disgust. The world would just have to accept the fact she had uncontrollable hair. As she started to leave her tiny bedroom, Alena heard talking from the main room. The princess paused by the door and leaned her ear against the wooden surface, curious as to who was outside her room. “...not my fault!” she heard Brey’s aged voice complain. “Yes, it is!” the other voice argued. “Your note didn’t even say which inn you were staying at. It was any wonder I was able to find the two of you.” Alena let out a startled gasp when she heard the second voice. It was Cristo’s!

Brey had warned the princess her father would send guards across the country in an effort to bring her home. Now the stingiest of those guardsmen was standing right outside the room. He had somehow found them and was probably going to force her to come back. Well, she was not going to let it happen. She had endured so much turmoil to gain her freedom and she was not going to let it all go so easily.

If she could somehow catch her bodyguard by surprise, she might be able quickly get away with

Brey.

Alena looked over her room for a suitable diversion. The only thing she found was her bed sheet. Perhaps if she threw the sheet over Cristo, it could provide a good enough distraction for her and Brey to escape. Alena grabbed the bed sheet and quickly burst from her room. Before either Cristo or Brey could react, she leapt at her bodyguard, smothering him in the sheet. He fell over in his chair, creating a loud crash as he did so. “Hurry, Brey!” Alena said, reaching her hand out to her tutor. “We have to get out of here!” Instead of seeing the old man eagerly nodding and hurrying to escape, Brey sat still, a shocked expression freezing his face. A thin smile crept into his thin lips and then a cackling laugh escaped his mouth. Alena looked at Brey incredulously. “What are you doing?” she cried. “We’ve got to hurry!” However, by that time, Cristo had managed to get out of the bed sheet and regained his composure. “What are you doing, Princess?” he exclaimed, tossing the bed sheet to the floor. For a second, Alena did not recognize her bodyguard. He was wearing plain wayfaring clothes, his hair a mass of unkempt, brown curls and his face showing a thin shadow of whiskers. In fact, aside from the copper sword he would always have with him while on duty, the princess had never seen Cristo quite so…ordinary. Yet, perhaps it was merely a ruse, a disguise so he could effectively search for her without arising suspicion. Alena took up a defensive posture, mentally plotting a battle plan. “I don’t care what you say, Cristo,” she said, “but I’m not going back to the castle without a fight!” “Going back to the castle...?” Cristo said, confused. They both stood still for the moment, Alena keeping her defense up and Cristo staring blankly. Finally, his eyes lit up in realization and he turned toward Brey, pointing an accusing finger at the old man. “You mean you haven’t told her yet?” he cried. An innocent smile crept onto Brey’s face. He obviously was enjoying the scene before him. “I guess it slipped my mind,” he cackled, a strange light gleaming in his beady eyes as he said so.

“Why, you...” Cristo sneered and took a threatening lunge at Brey. The old tutor put his hands up, prepared to block whatever attack Cristo had planned. Annoyed at so quickly becoming ignored, Alena stamped her foot into the floorboards. “Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” she demanded, her arms rigidly extending down into tight fists. “Right,” Brey said, lowering his arms but keeping his eyes on Cristo. After he was certain the young man was not going to make any more moves, the tutor turned to face Alena. “I made a deal with your bodyguard,” he explained. “In return for not turning us over to the rest of the hunting party, I agreed to let him join us.” “What?” Alena exclaimed, looking at Cristo. The bodyguard gave an exaggerated bow and said, “I, your humble servant, will accompany you also, Princess.” Alena looked back to Brey and said, “Why was I never made aware of this?” “You were still out of it when we made the deal,” Brey said, leaning back in his chair lazily, “and I guess I just forgot about mentioning it the other day when we arrived here, seeing as how I was so busy in bringing you back to sanity.”

Alena flinched. She did not like the way Brey made her brief period of madness such an incidental event.

Another thought came to her mind and Alena leaned forward to whisper into Brey’s ear. “I don’t think it’s such a good idea bringing him along,” she stated. “How am I to learn anything with him watching out for me everywhere I go?” “Don’t worry, dear,” Brey smiled, patting her cheek. “I’ll see to it he doesn’t interfere with your lessons.” Alena smiled and stood back up to face Cristo. The young man seemed to have been patiently waiting for Alena and Brey to finish their private discussion and was standing still near the table. The princess looked at her bodyguard for a moment, mixed emotions filling her mind. His offer to help her seemed sincere as he was no longer wearing his apprentice garments but traveling clothes. She guessed it would be nice to have another friend along and Cristo’s clerical skills could come in handy should something unforeseen occur during the lessons Brey had in mind. However, his protective nature was a concern. The main reason Alena had left the castle was to escape the overbearing presence of him so she would have to fend for herself. Would he be a constant thorn in her side if he hung around? Guess I’ll just have to trust Brey again, she thought tentatively. Alena reached a hand out and Cristo clasped his hand in hers. “I...guess you can come along,” Alena said half-heartily, shaking her bodyguard’s hand. Cristo nodded, giving her a quick wink. Alena blinked in confusion, wondering why Cristo had winked. She let it slide, though, figuring it was just a joke she did not understand. “Alright, then,” Brey said, sitting up in his chair. “If that’s out of the way, might I suggest we get started on the current task at hand.” “And that is?” Cristo asked, taking a seat in one of the chairs at the table. “Making sure Alena remains unnoticed while we are here,” Brey replied, eyeing the princess. The old tutor then turned to Cristo and asked, “How much time did you buy us?”

“Not really much,” the bodyguard replied. “I tried to convince the others to continue east, the way Alena was originally moving. They felt it would be wiser to go back to the castle and inform the King of their progress. It won’t be long before he has scouts and guardsmen scouring all of the country.” Cristo paused for a moment, rubbing the layer of whiskers on his chin. “I think I should let you know, Brey, that Flail has a personal vendetta for coming after us now after what you did to him.” “I’ll deal with him when the time comes,” Brey said grimly, stroking his long, white whiskers. Cristo and Alena looked at Brey for a moment, their eyes a little wide as his tone of voice stunned them. Such iciness was foreign to the usually optimistic, though at times moody, old man. “Still,” Cristo said, leaning forward, “I don’t like the idea of that mercenary at our backs. I’ve heard what he does to criminals and what he does to get to them.” “I believe I’ve bought us a few days by choosing this inn,” Brey said, sounding more like his normal self. “Not too fancy such as a member of the nobility would stay at, yet not too rundown, the sort of hiding place they may think to look second. I doubt they realize I have enough money to keep us here for a little while. “But we stray from the topic at hand,” Brey continued after a brief pause. He leaned forward to rest his arms on the table and looked up at Alena. “We need to figure out a way to conceal the Princess when we leave this room.” “I could wear a cloak,” Alena suggested, remembering a few stories of travelers hiding themselves in large heavy garments. Brey shook his head. “Too obvious,” he muttered. “We need to make a complete change so you can casually blend into the local populace.” He sat still for a few moments, staring at Alena in an attempt to come up with a decent plan. Growing impatient, Alena decided to grab a chair and sit down at the table as well. Her feet were tired from standing for so long.

As she sat down, the princess stretched her back over the chair, loosening her spine from morning stiffness. Alena stayed in this position for a few seconds when Brey suddenly snapped his fingers.

“That’s it!” he exclaimed. “Alena, can you hold back your hair for a moment?” “Like back in a tail?” she said, slowly leaning forward. “Yeah, sure.” Alena began to run her hands through her hair, pulling it so she could grab the excess amount in the back of her head. She held it there for a few moments, letting both Brey and Cristo get a good look at her with her hair back. “What do you think?” Brey said to Cristo, still looking at Alena. “What do you mean, ‘what do I think’?” the bodyguard asked, not really understanding where Brey was going with this. “Don’t you think she could pass for a nice, young man?” Brey replied, smiling a bit. “What’s that...?” Alena began but her voice trailed off as she slowly let her hair fall limp again.

He could not be serious! “No, Brey!” she quickly said, standing up from the table. “There is no way you are going to get me to dress up as a man.”

“It’s only temporary,” Brey said, standing up as well, “and only for when you need to leave this room.”

“Brey,” Cristo said, also standing up. “You cannot do this. It is sacrilegious to dress in the clothes of the opposite sex!” Brey looked at Cristo for a moment, raising an eyebrow. “No, it’s not,” he said with a tiny chuckle. “Where did you hear that?” Cristo seemed to sputter for a moment, then burst out, “From my religion, of course.” Brey’s eyes lighten up in amusement and he laughed. “Your religion doesn’t mind this sort of thing,” he cackled. “But-” “In fact,” Brey continued without a pause, “I believe there is a scripture in the Zenithian Texts that tells the story of a woman who received a sign from Master Dragon, telling her to dress like a man to lead a crusade against one of the old countries.”

Cristo’s eyes lightened in shock, even more than when Brey had first made his proposal. The old tutor cackled and said, “Just because I don’t follow Zenithism doesn’t mean I haven’t had the time to read the Texts. Very entertaining literature, if at times somewhat preachy.”

“H...how dare you!” Cristo sputtered. “The Master will banish your soul to Vah-Kirgol for that sort of sacrilege!” “Oh, I think I’ll be just fine,” Brey said, folding his hands behind his head. “I’ve also noticed the Master has been very generous to those who don’t follow the religion as closely as you do. “But enough about Zenithism. We’ve strayed from our main focus again.” Brey turned his attention back to Alena, who remained neutral during his and Cristo’s minor discussion of theology. “Ultimately,” he said to her, “the decision is up to you. I’ve given you my advice. Whether you utilize it or not is up to you.” Alena looked at her tutor for a moment, weighing her options. His plan seemed ridiculous but if she could remain hidden in such a manner, it would definitely slow down any search party’s attempts at finding a princess. She looked at Cristo, hoping her bodyguard could provide some advice or a better solution. Cristo, sensing what Alena was asking with her gaze, merely shrugged, unable to think of anything better. Finally heaving a heavy sigh, Alena said, “Alight, I’ll do it.” “Excellent!” Brey enthusiastically said. He grabbed his walking staff leaning on the table and rushed over to Alena. He then started to place it horizontally and vertically along Alena’s body, apparently using the staff as a measuring instrument. “Do you think you can come over here, Cristo?” the old tutor asked as he took the last measurement. Shrugging, Cristo did as he was asked. Brey then promptly went over to the bodyguard and started to take his measurements as well. “Just what do you think you’re doing, old man?” Cristo asked, his eyes a little wide with confusion. Brey ignored him, however, muttering to himself. “I’d guess a few sizes smaller.” The old tutor hopped back, taking a seat on the table behind him with a remarkable spring for his age. He stroked his white whiskers for a moment, thinking deeply. Eventually, he turned to Cristo and said, “Do you think you can go into the market and pick up a few things for me?” “So now I’m your lackey?” Cristo grumbled, falling into his chair nonchalantly.

“Don’t be a whiner, boy,” Brey said, giving him a devilish grin. He looked back at Alena, eyeing her thoughtfully. “I think some wayfarer’s clothes should do the trick. Nothing too out of the ordinary and loose enough to conceal the Princess’...uh...um...” His voice trailed off as he threw an embarrassed gesture at Alena.

The princess looked at her tutor for a moment, confused, before her eyes lightened in realization. She threw him a disgusted glare and unconsciously brought an arm across her chest, shocked her tutor would intentionally look there for any reason.

Brey gave an embarrassed cough, then turned his attention back to Cristo. “Just something a few sizes smaller than your self,” he continued. He looked back at Alena for a moment, judging something else. “I think you should also pick up a leather hat to conceal her hair,” the old tutor added, rubbing his white whiskers. “Something like what most young travelers wear should do.” “I’d hate to disappoint you, old man,” Cristo said, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands behind his head, “but I don’t have any money to buy these clothes with. How did you think I was going to get them? By stealing?” Brey ignored Cristo’s sarcasm and turned back to Alena. “Do you still have your feather hat?” he asked her. “Yeah, it’s in my room,” she replied. “If you don’t remember, I was up all night trying to clean the mud and...and...” Her voice faltered, painful memories of how it became so muddy finding their way into her thoughts. She lowered her head, trying to force the painful memory back into the dark corners of her mind. Brey sensed her distress and patted her shoulder compassionately. “Try not to think about it too much,” he said. “It’s in the past now so you shouldn’t let it bother you. But in any event, do you think you could fetch your hat for me?” Alena nodded slowly and started to walk back to her room.

“Princess!” Cristo said, sitting up from his chair. Alena turned to face him, her face still a little solemn. “You may want to bring this back,” he said, holding up the bed sheet he had earlier been smothered in. Alena threw her bodyguard an annoyed glare and promptly snatched the bed sheet from Cristo’s hands before storming into her room. Cristo merely shrugged when Brey looked at him for a moment.

Moments later, Alena came back out carrying the feather hat she had left the castle with and threw it towards Brey. “Great!” he said, catching the hat. He held it up for a moment, studying the quality of the material despite all it had been through. Finally, the old tutor unexpectedly tossed the hat to Cristo who barely had enough time to catch it. “I’m sure you’ll be able to get a few hundred gold pieces out of this,” he said to the bodyguard. “Try not to be too honest when you’re haggling over the price.” “Brey!” Alena exclaimed, rushing over to him. “I spent the entire night getting that thing clean! Now you want me to just part with it?” “Exactly,” the old tutor said, smiling. He patted her cheek before walking over to Cristo, leaving the princess slack-jawed. “Now, remember, boy,” he said to the bodyguard. “Some wayfarer’s clothes-” “I know what I need to get,” Cristo interrupted, standing up. He looked at Alena for a moment, a heavy sigh escaping his mouth before he started to move. Shaking his head while grumbling something incoherent, the bodyguard left the room.

Both Alena and Brey watched Cristo leave, keeping their eyes on the door as it closed behind the disgruntled bodyguard. After a few moments of silence, Brey said, “I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s just had a hard couple of days.” He looked at Alena for a moment, then muttered, “Not like we all have, though.” Alena did not hear him, however, and was still staring dumbfounded at the door. Finally, she turned to Brey and said, “I still can’t believe you sent him to sell my hat!” “You have plenty of them,” Brey said half-heartily, sitting down in the closest chair. “I don’t anymore,” Alena argued, looking intently at her tutor. “How am I going to make myself look presentable without at least a few luxurious items on me?” Brey looked at her for a moment, his face contorting into disapproval. “I believe we have a bit of an attitude problem here, Princess,” he said, wagging an accusing finger at her. His voice was suddenly very serious. “You say you want to do things differently than the rest of the aristocracy, yet you are unable to stray from your luxurious style of living. Either you accept the fact you are not going to be able to get away with the kinds of things you could before as the Princess of Santeem or we go back to the castle to end your quest right here and right now!” Alena looked at her tutor, stunned by the serious tone of his voice. Any lecture he would give, even the ones during their lessons back at the castle, were usually glossed over with a decent cover of good nature. However, Brey’s expression remained rigid. Sighing, Alena lowered her head and muttered, “Of course I’m going to stay with my quest. I guess some habits are just hard to break.” “Well, you had better break them soon,” Brey said evenly, “because you’re not going to be getting a whole lot of special treatment from here on. Understand?” Alena slowly nodded. “Good,” he said, cracking a small smile. “Might I suggest, then, we get back to the task at hand.” “What do you mean?” Alena asked, looking up. “I thought Cristo was taking care of it.” “He may be taking care of the clothes,” Brey smiled, “but there’s still the problem of overall appearance. I’m afraid a hat won’t be good enough to conceal all of your bright, auburn locks. We’ll have to cut your hair short.” “Cut my hair?” Alena exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock. Brey quickly cast her a disapproving glare, causing the princess recoil a bit. She heaved an exasperated sigh, fell into a chair, and muttered, “Fine. Do whatever you think is necessary.” “Great!” Brey said, standing up. He grabbed his walking staff and started to head for the door. “I’ll see if I can borrow a pair of scissors from the innkeeper. You just stay put until I get back.” Alena nodded, not even really paying attention to Brey as he left. The single window in their room distracted her with a decent view of several farming fields surrounding Surene. As she ran her hands through her hair, the princess absently wondered if she was ever going to be able to break any old habits.

* * * Cristo slowly walked up the stairs in the inn. Things were not turning out how he had originally thought. When he made the deal with Brey back in Weser, he hoped he would still be able to be a loyal protector for Alena. However, when he saw how the Princess had been able to fend for herself easily enough, the bodyguard came to the realization she might not need him anymore. And, while a part of him was happy she was indeed maturing in that sense, another part of him was dismayed.

What if the Princess was able to completely fend for herself without his assistance? Where would

that place him? Would his services no longer be required and be dismissed as her bodyguard without a second thought? If such were the case and the King had no further use of him, would Alena ever want to see him again?

The bodyguard paused in mid-step, realizing his mind was straying from his responsibility again. Those deep feelings he had for her --deep, forbidden feelings-- were creeping up, distracting from his obligation.

Cristo rubbed his hand over his face, attempting to push the feelings away. Were these feelings just a type of friendship protection? He did not know, not really having many close childhood friends. His father had made him study Zenithism so diligently that the bodyguard never had the time for friends. Then were these feelings the same sort of strong bond brothers and sisters shared? He did not know, having been an only child and never experienced such family kinship.

Or could it be a type of love all together different?

No, he decided immediately. It could not be possible for him to hold such feelings. It was probably nothing more than a brotherly love. If such were the case, he would continue to protect the Princess as a brother should. Alena and Brey would probably not like it, however, so he was going to have to be very discreet about it.

The bodyguard had brought his personal copy of the Zenithian Texts with him for this journey.

The Texts sometimes made references of clerics with different levels of power performing feats of defensive magic. The most common practice of this form of clerical magic was to aid paladins in their battles. Master Dragon probably would not mind if he dedicated himself to learning it as well.

If he could learn to perform such magic along side the standard healing magic all clerics were

required to know, he would be able to protect the Princess without their knowing. Cristo decided he would double his readings and prayers to gain this knowledge as quickly as possible. It would be best to be prepared for when Brey intended to take Alena out into the wild for her first lessons.

Feeling better about himself, Cristo hurried his pace and rushed up the stairs to their room. Enthusiastically, he opened the door and said a cheerful, “I’m back!” There was no response. Cristo took a quick look around the room, wondering where his companions were. The room seemed essentially undisturbed. The table in the middle was unchanged and the traveling packs he and Brey had taken with them were still in the far corner. However, upon a closer inspection of the room, he noticed a few strands of hair were scattered across the floor. The color of the hair seemed to be auburn.

Cristo’s eyes suddenly widened with shock. He wouldn’t have…! the bodyguard thought anxiously.

Almost as if to confirm Cristo’s fear, one of the bedroom doors opened and Alena walked out,

saying an emotionless, “Oh, I didn’t hear you come in.” Cristo’s jaw slacked open.

Alena’s hair was cut short, shorter than most women’s hair, shorter than even his own curly, brown hair. So short, in fact, her auburn hair merely looked like an extension of her skull.

“Princess!” Cristo cried in disbelief. “What happened? Who did this to you? Where’s all your hair?” Alena merely shrugged to answer his many questions. Brey suddenly appeared from the other bedroom. “Oh, great!” he said and he eagerly rushed forward to Cristo. “Did you get the clothes for me?” Cristo outstretched his hand holding the wayfarer’s clothes and leather hat, unable to withdraw his gaze from Alena’s short hair. “Excellent!” Brey said, unfolding the clothes in front of him. He turned to Alena, smiling. “Let’s get you into these,” the old tutor said. “It’s time for you to learn your first lesson: bartering.”

Chapter 9: The First Lessons

Although some distance from the coastline, Surene nevertheless grew into the main city of commerce within Santeem’s realm. If anything, the growing city became notoriously famous for the wide range of weapons available through the Santeem Merchant’s Guild. It was said that as long as one had the right connections, one could find anything from wooden, training staffs to magical blades in Surene. Where all of these weapons came from was a complete mystery, as most of the mining quarries in the Santeem Mid-Range were all but cleaned out of the useful minerals required to craft weapons of such quality. It was rumored the Kings of Santeem had hidden, foreign countries secretly supplying their country but no one could confirm it. With so many fine weapons being sold along with ones of mediocre worth in many parts of the city, many different social classes were often forced to do business in close proximity. Peasants were shopping in stands right beside nobility and the aristocrats did not enjoy it. After many decades, the nobility finally appealed to the lord of Surene at the time, Lord Stephen IV, about the conditions. After nearly five years of debate, Lord Stephen IV finally decided to erect a barrier between the classes. A giant, circular stone wall --later to be known as the Surene Wall-- was constructed. The southern end of the wall fused into the massive Zenithian Temple of Surene, a playful irony devised by Lord Stephen IV since class differences meant nothing in a place of spiritual enlightenment. On the outside, the smaller shops were forced to set up. Merchandise of lower quality would be sold in these stands, whether it was weaponry, clothing, or food. Inside the Surene Wall lied the finer shops, where the quality of merchandise was far superior to the outside, such that only nobility could afford it. To keep peasants and other lowlife away from this side of the wall, the architects made it only accessible by going through a small gate to the left of the Zenithian Temple. Having no desire to waste guardsmen as gate watchers, Lord Stephen IV had a Magic Door erected. These powerful doors not only used a standard lock but a magical one as well, a lock in which only a Magic Key could disenchant long enough to have the door opened. Since only powerful magic-users could manufacture the rare keys, the items were a pricey commodity, such that only the very rich could ever hope to afford them. Whenever Alena would go on shopping exhibitions in Surene, she always made sure her father’s Magic Key was in her possession. After all, the last thing she needed was to be associating with peasants in a crowded, noisy market. However, having left the castle unprepared, the princess could do nothing more than stare dumbfounded at the Magic Door in front of her. “It’s no use staring at it all day, Princess,” Brey accused, becoming impatient with Alena’s sulking. “You’re just going to have to accept the fact you are going to have to shop at the peasant stands.” Alena sighed, slowly lowering her head. She turned to face Brey, who was leaning against a wall beside the tiny gate’s entrance. He was not frowning at her but neither was he smiling. It was strange the way the old tutor had the ability to hide his emotions and sometimes it gave Alena shivers.

After a few seconds of silence, Alena sighed again and said, “Yes, you’re right, as always.”

“Good,” the old tutor said, nodding once. “Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you how to really have a fun time shopping!” Alena followed Brey outside and the glare of the spring sun robbed her of her sight momentarily. She held her hand up to block the sun and gazed up at the clear sky. It really was amazing how fast the weather could clear up and cloud over in the fields. Being so close to the ocean side, the Santeem southern fields were used to such rapid changes of weather. Having remained inside a castle for most of her life, the princess was quite intrigued by such events. She lowered her gaze and watched several people moving across the dizzying patterns of streets making up the city of Surene. While the Surene Wall was more or less centralized and packed tightly with merchant shops, the residential areas of the city were uncharacteristically spread out from the center. It seemed no one could stand living within fifty feet of another person, yet did not mind pushing and shoving each other in the city market. “Coming?” Brey asked. Alena rubbed her eyes for a moment, then turned to face Brey before nodding. She followed Brey past the front gates leading to the Zenithian Temple of Surene. The temple, raising high into the sky with several standard arches and V-arches criss-crossing the front entrance, was probably the second largest, single structure in all of Santeem, Santeem Castle being the largest. Even from far out in the farming fields surrounding the city, one could probably see the top spires making up the religious tower. Various statues, ranging from some of the more notable Zenithians mentioned in the Texts to gothic gargoyles, lined the many levels of the tower.

A few clerics were assembled on the massive staircase leading to the main hall of the Zenithian Temple and local townsfolk were rushing in and out of the enormous entrance as a giant statue of Master Dragon watched over them. Several clerics, priests, and even bishops could inhabit this temple for long periods of time. It was rumored pilgrimages would sometimes end here, although no one had ever seen several foreign Zenithists travel to this temple all at once in the last few centuries.

The temple was probably the main attraction of all of the Santeem country, a land known mainly only for farming fields and sheep and goat herders in the Santeem Mid-Range. Gazing at the imposing structure, Alena could only feel humbled to be near such a magnificent building. The pure, spiritual energy the temple radiated seemed to take a hold of the princess’ soul and make her wish to bow down in reverence to the Zenithians and Master Dragon. Brey, however, was indifferent to the massive structure. While he was very impressed by the architectural mastery of the building, the thought of so many people wasting their efforts on religious nonsense made his stomach churn. Hoping Alena would not become too subdued by the building’s magnificence, the old tutor grabbed her arm and pulled her a little faster to the peasants’ market. Once past the massive Zenithian Temple, the Surene Wall continued to stretch out until it bent north, following parallel along the edge of a tiny, man-made stream.

The stream was nameless, and used mainly for sewage and other sanitary reasons. It was little wonder why Lord Stephen IV had decided to set up the peasant market on this side of the wall, as the smell emanating from the stream was absolutely nauseating.

The other side of the small stream held several, rundown houses. It was clearly obvious the

people who built these structures were not of high standing in Surene, therefore forced to build near the

stinking stream with no help from professional architects. Alena did not focus too long on the scenery, though, as they had arrived at their destination.

The base of the eastern edge of the massive wall separating the classes of Surene held a large market. The sounds of merchants advertising their wares, mothers calling for their screaming children, live farm animals in cages screeching in fright of so many people, and several footsteps trotting on the ground made up the busy market. “So, where do we go?” Alena asked evenly. Though she kept her voice calm, it was merely an act. The nauseous smell of the stream, the dizzying movements of the peasants, and the boisterous noise of the market were wrecking havoc on her senses. “Just stay close to me,” Brey replied without looking at her. The old tutor invaded the market, Alena rushing to keep close. The couple passed by several people and shops, and the treatment the princess received from most people caught her by surprise. The peasants casually bumped, pushed, and shoved her as though she was nothing more than one of them. In any other case, these common people would stare and gawk at her presence, having never seen someone from nobility this close. Likewise, the merchants were shouting and screaming at her, attempting to draw her into their stands to sell whatever items they had. The merchants on the other side of the Surene Wall were always courteous to their customers, often keeping relatively quiet aside from presenting a price. And all this was what Brey considered to be fun! Eventually, after what seemed to be an eternity, Brey stopped and said, “Ah, here we are.” They were standing just a few feet from what appeared to be a weapon store. Various clubs, swords, and whips hung on display off of rafters as a large man wearing the trademark green clothes of the Surene Merchant’s Guild leaned against his table, waiting for a customer.

“Now,” Brey said, turning to Alena, “you don’t have to do anything much this time. Just follow my lead and watch what I do.” Alena nodded, ready to observe. Brey nodded as well, straitened Alena’s leather hat, and walked up to the merchant’s table.

The merchant, upon seeing Brey approach his stand, quickly ran his hands down his shirt a few times to remove any wrinkles, then opened his arms wide, saying an enthusiastic, “Welcome! Welcome to Brian’s Weapon Stop! How may I help you?” “I’m looking for a fine weapon, my good man,” Brey said. He pointed to Alena and added, “Something decent for my grandson here.” “Yes, yes, indeed!” Brian said, nodding. “Every young man should have a weapon to earn their manhood!”

The merchant turned to Alena and asked, “What sort of weapon do you prefer, my good man?” The constant referring to as a male was an uneasy feeling for Alena but at least the disguise was working.

However, Alena did not really know what kind of weapon she should use. Most of her combat

training with Hun had been martial arts defensive and retaliation attacks. Never before had she used a weapon of any sort.

“I dunno,” she said in the most masculine voice she could muster. “A sword?”

“Great choice!” the merchant said enthusiastically. “We have many fine copper swords here today!” Brian reached over and grabbed one of the many swords hanging from the display. He handed it over to Alena so she could give it a try. Alena took the sword and held it in her right hand, trying to balance it for a strong yet comfortable grip. She took a few practice swings, imitating the slashes Cristo would sometimes show her. However, it was much more difficult than it looked. She found her swings extremely choppy and Brey found himself sometimes backing up a bit to avoid the wild strokes. “Hhmm, I don’t think the sword is really the weapon of choice for you,” Brey said, stroking his white beard. He took the sword from the princess who graciously let him without any argument, and gave it back to Brian.

After studying the weapons the merchant had to offer, Brey finally said, “I think a club would be more your kind of weapon for now.”

“The club?” Brian said, turning his attention to one of the many wooden weapons he had on display. The merchant’s expression seemed to dishearten slightly but he was quick to recover. He took one of the clubs from the display and handed it over to Alena. Alena took the heavy weapon and studied its craftsmanship before giving it a few practice swings. It had a good grip and was well balanced in her hands. She noticed the head of the weapon had several, small metal spikes jutting out, figuring she could tear off a man’s face with a grazing blow. Swinging it a few times, Alena discovered much more success than with the copper sword. “He looks like he could brain five kaskos hoppers all at once with that weapon,” Brian said, smiling. “Yes,” Brey quietly muttered to himself, hiding his smile beneath his hand. After nodding to himself for a moment, the old tutor turned to Brian and said, “Yes, this will do. How much?” Brian smiled for a moment, then replied, “That club is worth one hundred gold pieces!” Alena stopped swinging, nearly dropping the club in shock. She never realized such a weapon could cost so much! Brey, however, was undaunted, and evenly said, “I’m sorry, but I won’t pay any more than five gold coins for this weapon.” “Five coins!” the merchant exclaimed. “A cypress stick isn’t even worth that much!” “Nor is a club worth a hundred,” Brey countered, his voice still calm. Brian’s face seemed to contort for a moment but relaxed when he said, “Fine. You got me. I thought I might be able to pull a fast one on you but you’re much too smart for that. The real price of that club is sixty.” “Five,” Brey said again, his voice still even. Brian’s face contorted again, then calmed. He leaned forward, wrapping an arm around the old tutor’s shoulder. “Tell you what,” he said, giving a sly smile. “Since I was able to help you out, I’ll give you the deal of the day. Fifty gold coins! Does that sound fair?” “Five.”

Brian seemed to nearly scream in frustration but was quick to keep his cool, knowing he could loose this customer if he lost it. Instead, he withdrew his arm from Brey’s shoulder and firmly put both hands on his table. “Forty!” he said adamantly. “I cannot go any lower, or else I’ll lose money.” “Tell you what,” Brey said, unraveling his money sac from his belt. He reached into it and withdrew a handful of gold coins before scattering them across Brian’s table. “I only have thirty gold coins on me. I’ll let you have them all. Does that sound fair?” Brian quickly counted the coins on his table before enthusiastically saying, “Sold!” He gathered up the money and tossed it into a small chest he had under the counter. Once finished, the merchant turned back to Brey and asked, “Will there be anything else?” “No,” Brey replied, tying his sac back to his belt, “I believe we have everything we need here for now.” “Great!” Brian said, smiling. “I’m glad I was able to help. Have a good day then!” Brey nodded and he and Alena left the stand to mingle back with the large market crowd. Once they were a fair distance from the weapon shop, Alena turned to Brey and asked, “Why did you do that? You could have paid for this club at sixty.” “First thing you should realize, Princess, is merchants will always raise the price on a piece of merchandise if they can get away with it,” Brey explained as they walked. “I’ll bet this club doesn’t even cost what I paid for it, and I probably could have gone lower. But I think I got the lesson across successfully enough.” He briefly paused, looking curiously at the princess. “Did you learn anything from that experience?” he asked. Alena nodded and was about to explain when Brey held up a knarled finger. “You don’t have to tell me,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll want you to show me what you’ve learned by doing it yourself sometime. “But right now, we have a slight problem. My funds are running short and Cristo didn’t really do all that good of a job in getting us much money for the feather hat I had him sell. Consequently, we only have a little bit of money left and we will be needing more to at least remain at the inn we are at.” “So what are we going to do?” Alena asked. “We’re going to get some money the old fashioned way, my dear Princess,” he replied, giving her a devilish grin. “We’re going to hunt for kaskos hoppers!”

* * * Cristo watched Alena slowly creep forward. Her target was a small pack of kaskos hoppers gathered by a tiny pond. The princess stumbled a few times over outstretched roots and the club in her hands wavered as though she could not get a firm hold on it. With all the noise she was making, Cristo was amazed the giant, timid insects had not already fled, given their cowardly nature. The bodyguard turned his attention toward the kaskos hoppers, just as intrigued with the large insects as he was with Alena’s first hunting lesson. He had never seen the timid creatures in the wild before. Quite often, he would only see their wings on display at some hunter’s home. The hoppers appeared to be a cross between deer and oversized locus, having all the features of their much smaller cousins except their mid-body curved upright instead of remaining horizontal. The only real threat kaskos hoppers represented to the country of Santeem was every few decades the population would suddenly explode and their reclusive behavior became less of a factor when traveling near human settlements

looking for food in the fields of farmers. If anything, they were nothing more than a nuisance, much like their smaller relatives. Turning his attention back to Alena, who was now no more than twenty feet from her prey, Cristo absently cursed himself for not having learned some of the protection magic he had promised himself to learn; he had not expected Brey to take her hunting so soon. If he had learned the magic, he would have been able to cast it on Alena to make sure the kaskos hoppers did not cause any harm unto her if they decided to attack her instead of run.

Watching Alena stumble a few times, Cristo thought maybe it would be a good thing to cast such magic on her so she could not harm herself as well.

The bodyguard scanned the bushes to see if he could find Brey who was hiding undercover, watching and observing Alena with probably just as much fascination, although for different reasons.

Knowing the old tutor was somewhere in the bushes, lurking like a grizzled, old wolf, made Cristo’s nerves stand on end. He did not know what it was but there was definitely something strange about Brey. If anything, it was because there was so little the bodyguard, the Princess, or anyone else truly knew about him. For as long as he had lived at Santeem Castle, no one had ever been able to delve too deeply into his past. With such an enigmatic personality, Cristo not only respected him but sometimes feared him as well.

Suddenly, a charging scream brought Cristo’s attention back to Alena’s hunt and he saw the princess charge at the kaskos hoppers, her club ready to smash the first giant insect she could catch. Like a herd of deer, the hoppers quickly took to a panicked flight. Some bolted into the forest, their long, spindle legs carrying them several feet in a few seconds. Some immediately took to the air, their long, delicate wings unfolding and rapidly beating to get them out of harm’s way.

Two made the mistake of rushing towards Alena, unsure where the attack was coming from.

Alena did not expect the sudden charge of her enemy and swung her club in a wild panic just as the giant insects caught up to her. Amazingly, the club connected solidly with one of the hoppers’ head. A loud, cracking sound echoed throughout the clearing as the heavy head of the club shattered the exo-skeleton of the giant insect. A green fluid splashed out and the hopper fell over lifelessly. However, the vibration sent riveting through Alena’s body after she made the kill caused her to drop the heavy club.

The other kaskos hopper, upon seeing its companion drop lifelessly to the ground, halted its escape. Instead of fleeing for its life, the giant insect turned around to face the princess, an angry glare coming into its otherwise expressionless face.

The kaskos hopper started a charge towards Alena. Panicking, she lifted her club from the ground and tried to get it in front of her. However, she was much too slow and the kaskos hopper bowled her over, knocking her to the ground and sending her weapon flying from her hands. “Princess!” Cristo cried out and leaped out from the bushes to her aid. However, the giant insect had its spindle legs already raised above Alena, preparing to impale her. Her bodyguard would not be able to reach her in time. Before the hopper had a chance to finish its enemy off, however, a four-foot long spear of ice suddenly flew from the bushes. The deadly projectile impaled the hopper solidly in its lower torso, knocking it several feet from Alena. When it finally landed, the giant insect twitched for several seconds before moving no more. Cristo stopped in his tracks as the spear of ice killed the kaskos hopper, shocked by the quickness Brey exhibited. However, his surprise only lasted for a few seconds and the bodyguard rushed forward

again, reaching Alena just as she was starting to get up. “Princess!” he called to her, immediately helping her to her feet. “Are you all right? Are you hurt? Do you need healing?” “I’m fine,” she grumbled, giving Cristo a tiny shove. The bodyguard let go of her, allowing the princess get up on her own accord. She stood up, brushed some soil and leaves from her clothes, and wiped off the green fluid speckled across her face. Standing still for a moment, she let the experience of the battle set in.

She had actually done it! She had actually killed a kaskos hopper, something many hunters were proud of doing. Now, when she would talk with any of the royal hunters back home, she could boast just as much as they did.

The adrenaline from the battle had yet to subside and Alena was eager to start her boasting. She turned to Cristo and excitedly asked, “How did I do?” Cristo stammered for a moment. “Great! Outstanding! Never before have I seen such mastery and skill displayed with-” “You were sloppy!” Brey’s chastising voice came as he emerged from the surrounding bush. Both Alena and Cristo turned towards him and shot the old tutor annoyed glares, each for different reasons. “What do you mean?” Alena pouted, placing her hands on her hips. “I killed it, didn’t I?” “We should be giving her encouragement whenever we can, old man,” Cristo said, crossing his arms over his chest. Once Brey was with the other two, he looked over at Cristo and said, “If we give her too much praise, she won’t improve at all.” “Will you please stop talking as if I’m not here!” Alena nearly screamed. “It is very annoying, treating me as if I’m nothing more your study object.” “Sorry,” Brey muttered without looking, making the apology somewhat empty. Her face flushed red with annoyance and Alena promptly walked over to the kaskos hopper she had killed, giving it a swift kick. “See, Brey,” she said, turning her head to face her tutor. “I killed it. Does it really matter how it happened?” Brey flashed her an irked glance and said, “Yes, it does. In case you don’t remember, you were nearly killed by that one’s mate.”

Upon hearing this, Alena’s eyes widened slightly. It had never occurred to her that kaskos hoppers would have mates, making the second one’s savage attack more sensible. A pang of guilt started to creep into Alena’s being and it showed in her face.

“Don’t go feeling guilty about it,” Brey immediately said upon seeing the change of expression.

“Such things occur everyday. If not by us humans, then by troglodytes, orcs, or other, more primitive races. Just forget about it.”

Noticing her guilt remained, he walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Tell me,” he

gently said, “do you ever feel guilty about swatting a mosquito that is drinking your blood?”

“No...,” Alena hesitantly replied.

“And would you feel guilty that you are doing the farmers of your country a favor by eliminating a pest such as these giant insects,” Brey asked further, “because that is what these things mainly are; a pest that eat crops like locusts, gophers, and crows.” Alena looked at Brey for a moment, raising an eyebrow. “Are you saying that these giant bugs are like mosquitoes, only they drink the lifeblood of the country instead of the individual?” she asked. Brey smiled and replied, “I’m glad to see you remembered our lessons on metaphors and similes.” He gave a low chuckle and Alena could not help but let a tiny smile creep onto her lips. “Okay,” she said, nodding. “I get the point. I feel better about it now.” “Great!” Brey said, taking his hand off of her shoulder. “Then let’s get down to the business at hand; de-winging these hoppers.” “De-winging?” Alena said, confused. “Sure,” Brey replied as he hobbled towards Cristo. “Merchants who pay the bounties on these things only want the wings to make into ornaments. There isn’t much of a market for kaskos steak.” He paused for a moment, then said, “Why? Does it bother you?” “No,” Alena was quick to reply, “not at all.” Just seems like a waste, she absently added with her thoughts. The old tutor turned to Cristo, who was silent for the past few minutes. “We’ll be needing your sword, Cristo,” Brey said, extending his arm forward. “Sure,” the bodyguard slowly said, unsheathing the copper sword from its scabbard and giving it to the old tutor. Once Brey had the sword, he motioned to Alena to follow him and the princess did so. The old tutor walked over to the kaskos hopper he had killed with his ‘Icebolt’ spell and knelt down in front of it, examining the carcass. The icicle was somewhat melted, leaving a gap between the ice and the giant insect’s flesh. The melting water was quickly mixing with the hopper’s green fluids, soaking into the soil it rested on. After taking the time to examine the body, Brey nodded approvingly, certain the wings hiding beneath the hopper’s shell were not damaged. He turned around, making sure Alena was above him. “Now, pay attention, Princess,” he said to her. “There’s a certain way you have to de-wing a kaskos hopper.” Brey proceeded with the task, explaining each step as he did so. First, he pried the insect’s shell open with the sword, letting the delicate wings fall out on their own accord. Next, he lifted the closest wing, extending it to its fullest length. Brey then proceeded to find where the wing’s joint met with the body. Once he found the joint, Brey took Cristo’s sword and, in one stroke, severed the wing from the body. He gently placed the wing on the ground, careful to not damage its delicate frame, and proceeded to sever the second wing. Once Brey was finished de-winging the giant insect, he turned to Alena and said, “Not really much to it. Right?” Alena nodded in agreement. Brey smiled and said, “Great! Now you do it.” And he handed the sword to her. Alena took a startled step back, her eyes wide with shock. “Me?” she asked, pointing a finger at her chest.

“Sure,” Brey smiled. “You have a dead kaskos hopper right over there. Go for it.” He jutted the hilt of the sword further towards the princess. Alena looked at Cristo, hoping he would be able to help her out of this situation. However her bodyguard merely shrugged, offering no assistance as Brey had made it clear he was not to interfere during these lessons unless it was essential. She turned back to her tutor and threw her arms up, whining. “Can’t you do it?” “It was your kill,” Brey said, still pointing the hilt towards her, “therefore you have to de-wing it yourself. That’s the rule.” “I don’t like it,” Alena cried, shaking her head. “Why are you making me do this?” “It’s all a part of the learning process,” Brey explained. He slowly lowered the sword and sarcastically added, “If you don’t want to do this, we can always go back to the castle...” At that, Alena’s brow furrowed and she snatched the sword from Brey’s hands. The princess gave the old tutor and annoyed glare before turning on her heels and promptly marching towards the corpse of the hopper she had killed.

Chapter 10: Anemosity Abroad Alena’s lessons progressed the following week, her skills slowly improving on every hunt. While she was lucky enough to kill a single kaskos hopper in the first few days of the week, the princess was disgusted with herself for not de-winging at least four of the giant insects by the end. With Brey always killing one with his ‘Icebolt’ spell, and even Cristo occasionally helping with the hunt, the trio of adventurers found themselves making a tidy sum of money each day, presenting their wings to the local market for a handsome bounty. Once they had plenty of money for the inn, Brey reasoned he should spend their extra income on a different weapon for the princess. Alena’s skill with the club had increased dramatically in only a pair of days but the old tutor knew mastering the club was not a difficult exercise; anyone could bash an opponent’s skull in.

Brey figured there was more potential in Alena than brain-bashing. After taking a lengthy stroll down the peasants’ market, the old tutor discovered several whips available, all of different styles and lengths. As Brey knew, the whip was very hard to master for novice warriors, demanding a different training regime than training with swords, clubs, or axes. If he could teach Alena to use a whip, he felt she could master any fighting technique.

However, he wanted to make the lessons as difficult as possible for Alena, forcing her to master the new weapon quickly. Brey searched for the most volatile whip he could purchase in the market. A whip covered in tiny thorns piqued his interest. If Alena accidentally snapped the weapon incorrectly, the possibility of cutting herself would be painfully real.

When Brey showed off the new weapon to his companions, Cristo predictably opposed the harsh teaching instrument.

To both their surprises, Alena immediately accepted the challenge. Her enthusiasm did not come without cost, however, cutting herself quite severely during the first

day of instruction. Cristo’s healing magic wiped all traces of the injuries but the mental scars of her failure only increased Alena’s determination to master the whip. Brey decided to get the princess some leather armor from the market so she would not cut herself as severely again.

Aside from the occasional bruising Alena would receive from a hunt or practice lesson, things remained easy for the trio. With each day, Alena would prove she had even more potential than Brey had first figured. And Cristo seemed to be losing some of the stiffness he displayed upon joining them. Not only did he seem to be accepting Alena was growing independent of his protection but he actually was enjoying the fact Alena was growing. Unfortunately, Brey knew this peace could not last. Sooner or later, Alena’s father would send guards over the entire countryside to find them and bring the Princess home. When that time arrived, staying in Surene would prove to be no longer an option.

* * * Cristo walked on heavy feet away from the massive Zenithian Temple, a night sermon having concluded. He had been to the most famous temple in the world only a few times in the past, a low number for someone who lived in such close proximity to the building. Then again, his duty as Alena’s protector allowed for the lack of visits. Any time he managed to find the time to attend a sermon in Surene, each had been a wondrous experience. The sheer, euphoric power Master Dragon would bestow upon the clerics of Zenithism during a Surene sermon would fill the bodyguard’s eyes with tears of undulated joy. However, having spent a week in Surene and attending the sermons every noon and evening, Cristo found himself nowhere near as awe-struck within temple as before. If anything, he was growing tired of climbing its massive front entrance. He was also finding the acoustics were very lousy in the main hall where sermons were conducted. In fact, if the bodyguard found himself standing near the end of the hall, he was straining to hear the bishop conduct a sermon.

The luster of the temple was losing its aura of magnificence with each visit, and Cristo felt he was losing a part of himself in the process.

Mustn’t let it affect me, though, he thought absently as he walked down the naked streets of Surene’s night.

The fact of the matter was he only acted enthusiastic in front of his companions. Every time Alena killed another kaskos hopper, it was as though she was killing another piece of his soul. He felt a growing distance between him and the princess as she seemed to becoming more independent. If she grew completely self-sufficient, what use would he have? With such a possibility looming over his head like a guillotine, Cristo was finding it more and more difficult to keep his act up. No matter what, though, he was going to have to keep his act up, otherwise Brey and Alena might clue into his true feelings concerning the Princess.

So absorbed in his thoughts was Cristo that he was slow to realize he had been walking the wrong direction. It was not just the fact he had strayed slightly off the main road that caught his attention, though. For some reason, the road he was now on was devoid of any Surene populace. In any city of this size, at least local drunks would wonder down a road such as the one Cristo was on now. The area was eerily quiet, setting the bodyguard’s nerves on edge. He decided it would be best to backtrack, hopefully not losing himself in Surene’s dizzy streets. Cristo had not walked more than a few feet when he heard movement from one of the side alleys, a scuffle over a crate of some sort.

The bodyguard stopped in his tracks and quickly pulled out the sword he always kept by his side, straining his ears to hear anything more. He turned his head toward the alley and his eyes tried to penetrate its dark shadows to see what had caused the noise. He could have been reacting over nothing more then a stray cat but five years of training to be the Princess’ personal bodyguard had hardened Cristo’s nerves to anticipate danger from any unknown source.

The road remained quiet for several seconds, passing like minutes to his senses. However, the bodyguard eventually eased out of his defensive posture. He was not convinced the danger had left but was secure in his reflexes he could continue to walk with his guard down. Had he been a man born of the streets instead of nobility, such a thing may have been possible. Three shadows peeled themselves from the sides of buildings and descend upon Cristo, hardly making a sound. The bodyguard managed to get his sword up to block one of the attackers but the other two landed heavy blows to his head. All the weight of the world seemed to descend upon Cristo and he felt himself falling over, losing consciousness before he even hit the ground.

* * * Crack! The whip lashed out, knocking over the target, an empty stein borrowed from a tavern below. Crack! The whip lashed out again, sending its second target, an apple, spraying across the table in large, juicy chunks. Crack! The whip lashed out a third time, barely grazing its third target, a ceremonial goblet from the Zenithian Temple. However, there was enough force from the contact to send the goblet reeling on its base before finally falling on its side. Silence filled the room for a few moments, then Alena’s jubilant voice cried, “I did it! I finally did it! All three of them!” She turned from the table to the chair Brey was sitting on in the corner of the room. “Did you see that?” asked the princess, pointing to the table. “I did it!” “Yes,” Brey muttered absently, slightly nodding his head. Alena looked at her tutor for a moment, surprised by his reaction. While it was uncommon for him to display as much enthusiasm as she would, he would at least smile in satisfaction if her lessons were paying off. However, Brey’s expression seemed distant, as though he was not even aware of her feat. “What’s wrong, Brey?” she asked her tutor, concerned something was troubling him. “Hhmm...?” he mumbled, shaking his head. “I said, ‘what’s wrong’?” Alena repeated. “I can tell there’s something disturbing you and I’d like to know what it is.” “Am I that apparent?” Brey said, cracking a small smile in his wrinkled face. Alena stood still, crossing her arms over her chest as she waited for him to respond. The old tutor shrugged, let out a small sigh, then replied, “If you must know, there have been a few things that have been occupying my mind, that’s all.” “Like what?” Alena asked, crouching down in front of her tutor. Brey looked at her for a moment, studying her demeanor with a bit of amusement. Despite the growth she had displayed in the last week, she still enjoyed acting like a little girl full of wonder about the world around her.

“Princess,” he gently began, “if you could go anywhere right now, where would it be?”

Alena looked at him for a moment, confused by the question. However, after a bit of thought, she replied, “I guess I would really like to see more of my country. You know, go north to the mountains and explore them. I’ve often had dreams about doing that, in one form or another.” She paused for a moment, then asked, “Why do you ask?” “No reason,” Brey absently shrugged, “but don’t let it bother you. You’ve had a busy day, so why don’t you head off to bed.” Alena nodded and stood up. She headed for her room, halting before she actually went in. She looked back at her tutor and absently muttered, “Brey, are you…?” She paused, a puzzled look crossing her face.

The old tutor looked at her, waiting for her to continue. However, she lowered her head, mumbling, “Forget it.” She then went into her room, shutting the door behind.

Brey looked at Alena’s door for a moment, his face solemn. No reason at all, he thought grimly, except we may have to go there very soon. Sighing, the old tutor pushed himself up from his chair and hobbled over to the table, cleaning the remains of the apple Alena had demolished with her whip. In truth, Brey was extremely impressed by her accomplishments. One week ago she could hardly use a club; now she was able to knock over small targets with a thorn whip. The only reason Brey had not shown much recognition of her growth of late was because his mind was preoccupied with other things, things which he felt were much more important than Alena’s training. The fact he had yet to see any searching parties for the Princess caused some concern. He expected guardsmen to reach Surene more than half a week ago. Had Cristo been successful enough in deceiving Reginald, Henry, and Flail back in Weser into bypassing the city all together? It was a possibility, especially if they decided to follow the original route Alena had taken when she ran away. The tracker and hunter probably would have believed any lie Cristo told them but what of the mercenary? Flail was notoriously difficult to fool and would usually follow his own orders anyway. What if he came to Surene on a whim, perhaps already discovering them within the city?

No, he thought, shaking his head. Such a thought was foolish. If the mercenary was in Surene, he surely would have made his presence known by now. Flail was undoubtedly following the most logical course of action, being searching any port towns along Santeem’s coastline. Anyone looking to avoid capture would have no choice but to flee the country, making the old tutor’s choice of coming to Surene completely illogical and non-viable to the mercenary.

At least, the old tutor hoped such was the case. While he kept a visage of not fearing him, Brey

was truthfully terrified of the thought of Flail personally out for his blood. His actions in Weser were nothing more than a stroke of luck, the mercenary not realizing Brey could cast magic in such a manner. Flail no doubt had certain charms or armor that could protect him from magic attacks as he was often hired to find and capture many criminal magicians, dead or alive.

The further distance he had between himself and the dark mercenary, the happier Brey would be.

* * * Cristo woke up with a start, gasping for air. However, he instantly realized it was not a good idea, as his head was underwater.

He accidentally inhaled quickly, water coursing through both the nose and mouth. Pain shot

through his nasal passages and he started to sputter, choking on the water. He tried to raise his head to escape the agony but something was keeping his head down. His scream of protest went unheard, no sound able to escape the watery torture. The lack of oxygen was beginning to take its toll and Cristo felt a blissful darkness beginning to take him away from his torment.

However, before it could happen, he was yanked from the water. The cold, night air stung at his face as the water ran down his skin. He coughed several times, hoping the water in his nose and throat would escape. Breathing heavily, he took the opportunity to get some air into his lungs while he had the chance. The bodyguard let himself hang limply in the air, the initial shock having taken its toll on his body. Only as he hung did Cristo realize two men held him up. One of them roughly grabbed the bodyguard’s hair and yanked his head up, nearly screaming in his ear to wake up. Cristo tried to shake himself free but the grips on his arms were too strong. “He’s awake,” one of the men said, not to his partner but to someone just ahead. Cristo raised his head to look around and gather his surroundings. Unfortunately, he was unable to see far around him in any direction; a weak stream of moonbeam filtering though a single window high above was the only source of light. The bodyguard was on his knees, a trough of water surrounded by straw directly in front of him. Was he in some sort of dungeon? If so, where? “It’s about time,” a rather jubilant voice came from the shadows. Cristo looked in the voice’s direction and saw a thin man dressed in luxurious, bright clothes emerged. He seemed to glow even in this darkened room. Several jewels ringing off each other echoed in the hollow walls of the room as we walked, suggesting he was extremely rich. As the man approached the bodyguard, Cristo noticed there was a large, jagged scar running down the side of his face. He walked up to Cristo, grabbed the bodyguard’s hair, and savagely lifted his head to come into eye contact. The man’s eyes were very self-confident and serene, as though nothing anyone could do would be able to stop him. “Not one for stamina, are we?” he said, giving Cristo a wry smile. The bodyguard tried to think of something insulting to say back but nothing could find its way though the fog within his head. The elegant man shrugged and delivered a solid punch to Cristo’s jaw, sending dizzying pain through the bodyguard’s consciousness. “Enough of that!” a deep, cold voice came from the shadows. The elegant man let an annoyed glare cover his face but it faded as he stepped back.

“There’s no point in torturing him in such a way,” the deep voice continued. “He is, after all, a cleric of Zenithism, and such physical wounds can easily be wiped away.”

“What?” cried the elegant man, his eyes wide with disbelief. “We aren’t even going to flay his skin or cut his fingers?” “That would be rude,” the deep voice said without any hint of sarcasm. “Cristo is our guest.” Cristo’s eyes widened upon hearing his name. How would these common ruffians know of him? He did not know of anyone in such a low standard of living at the castle, much less someone in Surene. In fact, the only time he had been in the presence of anyone who would have any remote association with commoners was more than a week ago, when he was with Reginald, Henry, and... Suddenly, the bodyguard’s eyes widened even more as a horrible realization descended upon him. The deep, cold voice! He only knew of one person who had such a voice. “Flail...?” he asked timidly, looking in the voice’s direction.

The large, dark mercenary stepped out from the shadows, his black cape drifting behind him like a shadow with its own mind. “Hello, Cristo,” he said, his thin lips cracking slightly to form a tiny smile. “It’s been a while.” “Flail!” Cristo exclaimed, his mouth slightly slack with disbelief. “What are you doing here? What’s going on?” The dark mercenary let the smile fade from his face, his eyes becoming cold as ice. He walked over to the elegant man and said, “This is Zhesh Toosh, leader of the Surene Thieves’ Guild.” “Thieves’ Guild?” Cristo muttered, confused by the title. “Thieves’ Guild,” Zhesh repeated, furrowing his brow for the lack of recognition. “The most feared and notorious association in the world!” Flail snorted, and Cristo took it Zhesh’s proclamation was not to be taken seriously. “In other words,” Cristo said with an amused smile, “you’re nothing more than a petty crook.” Zhesh’s face contorted in anger and he rushed forward, delivering another solid blow to the bodyguard’s face. This time, blood was drawn from the mouth as Cristo’s head swam with dull pain. He tried to think of the incantation to perform his healing magic, perhaps proving Flail’s point such forms of torture were futile. However, his head was too cloudy from the blow and the incantation was lost through the haze. Instead, Cristo could do nothing more than let his body go limp again, the energy spent keeping his weight up redirected to clearing up his vision. Zhesh was about to deliver yet another blow when his hand was firmly clasped within Flail’s own massive, gloved hand. The thief flashed an annoyed glance toward the large mercenary, forgetting exactly who it was that stopped him. The moment Flail saw the look, however, the dark mercenary slowly began to twist Zhesh’s own arm, and the elegant man screamed in pain. Flail continued to twist until a cracking sound could be heard, finally followed by a sickening snap!

Zhesh scream continued to echo through the room as the mercenary relinquished his hold of the broken arm. The thief grabbed his dangling arm, moaning as he ran off to the side of the room. The two men holding Cristo dropped their captive and rushed to their leader’s aid.

As the bodyguard slowly found his way back on his feet he considered making an escape.

However, aside from the window high above, he could see no way out within the darkness surrounding him. Besides, Flail would not have done what he did unless he was certain the bodyguard could not escape.

Cristo looked towards the dark mercenary and saw he was staring disdainfully at the cringing Zhesh. “Pathetic worm,” he muttered to himself, seemingly unaware the bodyguard was looking at him. “I swear I should just kill him and get it over with one of these days.” “Why don’t you, then?” Cristo dared to ask as he massaged his jaw to make sure it was not broken from the blow. While it was common knowledge one should not ask Flail questions, especially if you were his “guest,” his curiosity had a firm hold on his better judgment. Flail turned to face the bodyguard and Cristo slightly cringed underneath the mercenary’s penetrating gaze. He looked at the smaller Cristo for a moment, then turned his head, simply replying, “He pays me not to.”

Cristo looked at Flail for a moment, somewhat shocked by the answer. Feeling braver than most should in the mercenary’s presence, the bodyguard said, “The Master will not forgive you for not bringing justice to our world by ridding it of slime like him.” Flail’s shoulders started to bob up and down and a low, guttural chuckle could be heard. “I’ve sold my soul to Esturk long ago, preacher,” he said evenly. The bodyguard blinked in astonishment and was about to open his mouth to start a lecture regarding Zenithism values when Flail suddenly spun around and threw an icy glare at Cristo. The glare was more penetrating and lethal than Brey’s ‘Icebolt’ spell could be, causing the bodyguard to slightly shudder out of fear. “I am in no mood for your lectures, preacher,” he said with cold stoicism. “You’re here because there are a few things that I am curious about.” Cristo swallowed hard, beads of sweat forming at his brow. He had heard about Flail’s interrogations; they were not something one would wish to share at the dining table. “W...what do you want to know?” he timidly asked. “Why are you here?” Flail asked. “You said you were going to continue to search for the Princess in Weser when Reginald, Henry, and I left to go back to the castle, then continue east in the path that Reginald figured the Princess had originally planned to go. Yet, I find you here. Why?” The mercenary delivered a glare at Cristo with his last word; it stated he would peel the bodyguard’s skin if he lied. “I...I came up empty...” Cristo stammered, finding courage hard to come while underneath Flail’s intent gaze, “s...so I...I decided to come h...here instead.” “Indeed...” Flail uttered, rubbing a thick layer of dark hair on his chin. He backed up from the bodyguard, slightly turning around to think deeply. Cristo continued to feel the beads of sweat roll down his face, wondering if the mercenary saw through the small lie.

He glanced over to where the cringing Zhesh was and noticed the elegant man was still whimpering. The bodyguard swallowed nervously. If this was what he did to supposed friends or allies, Cristo dreaded to think of what the mercenary would do to him if he found out he was lying.

Finally, the mercenary turned his head, still rubbing his chin. “Tell me, preacher,” he slowly said, “why have you been seen with Brey, a wanted criminal?” Cristo’s entire world seemed to collapse as his courage shattered underneath the crushing weight of Flail’s fist of despair. He tried to remain cool and composed like the mercenary just a few feet in front of him, if anything for Alena’s sake. He knew he would never be able to face her again if she found out he had been the cause of the end of her journey.

Yet would the consequences of his actions consider him a criminal of the Crown? Would he be tried with treason for his actions in aiding the Princess’ escape? Would Master Dragon frown on him for his actions and deny his soul access to Zenithia when he died, only to be banished to Vah-Kirgol; or worse, dissipate into nothing if he was not even granted that?

The bodyguard could see Flail was becoming impatient, so he said the only thing he could come up with in hopes of buying him some time to settle him own turmoil. “H...how do you know it’s Brey?” Flail seemed to let a chuckle escape his chest but it was so deep Cristo could not tell if it was laughter or growling. “There are many old men in this city,” he said evenly, “but not many look like that old man. Trust me, after what the old bastard did to me, his face has been etched into my memory until I’ve seen justice brought to him.”

Flail’s brief period of amusement suddenly dropped and he turned to squarely face the bodyguard. “I’ll ask you only one more time, preacher,” he said with a cold glare. “Why have you been seen with that old bastard?”

Cristo swallowed, wiped some sweat from his head, and prayed to the Master to forgive him for following his heart on this occasion. “H...have you seen t...the young man that’s been w...with us?” he began. “The one with the fair complexion?” Flail said slowly. “Yes...” Cristo nearly let out a sigh of relief that Alena’s disguise had been able to fool even the sharp mercenary. The bodyguard nodded and continued, “Well, h...he’s Brey’s grandson. Apparently, the old man has relatives somewhere in Surene and is hiding the Princess with them. I’ve been able to get on Brey’s trusting side, so I think that I’ll be able to see exactly where he’s hiding her.” Flail looked at the bodyguard, his gaze seemingly penetrating his very being. The room became deathly quiet. Even Zhesh’s whimpering subsided as the thief was anxious to see what the large mercenary decided. Cristo felt anxiety creep into his body, the sweat seemingly pouring out. Did the lie work? Was he believable? If not, what then? Cristo felt his hands beginning to shake with nervousness and he quickly hid them behind his back, hoping Flail would not notice. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, the mercenary walked up to Cristo, his gaze still cold as ice. He laid a massive, gloved hand on the bodyguard’s shoulder and calmly said, “Keep me informed of your progress, preacher.” He then let a tiny smile crack his stoic face. A flood of relief filled Cristo’s entire body and his hand stopped shaking. He could have expressed all of the amazement he felt in many words, all of the relief in many forms. Yet all he could manage at that moment was a smile of gratitude. “Zhesh!” the large mercenary called over to the thief, “have your men escort Cristo outside and to the main street.” Zhesh nodded and motioned his head towards the bodyguard. The two thieves nodded and went over to Cristo. One of them took out a small sac. “I’m afraid you will have to be visibly detained until they get you outside,” Flail explained. Cristo nodded and allowed the thief to place the sac over his head. Before the two men escorted him outside, the mercenary said, “And, Cristo, consider my debt to you paid in full.” The bodyguard stared in confusion but did not have much time to ponder the words as the two men dragged him out. Once they had escorted Cristo outside, Zhesh walked over to Flail, still clutching his arm but no longer wincing in pain. “Do you want him followed?” he asked, watching the bodyguard leave. “No,” Flail said evenly, standing still for the moment. Zhesh looked up at the large mercenary, curiosity in his face. “You...didn’t actually believe him, did you?” he dared to ask. “No...” Flail said again, this time more slowly. Zhesh stared at him for a moment, shocked by the answer. “Why did you let him go, then?” Flail looked at the thief, a glaring annoyance in his eyes that made him cringe away. However, the mercenary released his gaze and evenly explained, “He will go to Brey, tell him what has transpired,

perhaps exaggerating a bit as he’s known to do at times. The old bastard will most likely decide to flee into the night, making finding him more difficult, even with your large circle of thieves in this city.” “You could have just wrung his whereabouts out of Cristo,” Zhesh said, walking over to the trough of water to soothe his broken arm, “just like you usually do with your interrogations.” Flail shook his head. “Cristo helped me back in Weser,” he said, his voice somewhat deeper than before. “In return, I spared him my usual torture. I got all the information I needed from him anyway.”

He paused, letting a tiny, cracking smile part his thin lips. “Besides,” he added, “their fear of me is to my advantage. If they know I am pursuing them, they will always look over their backs. Just as a pursued man in the dead of winter fears the wolves chasing him, so will Cristo and Brey fear me. When the chase is finally over, the victim will willingly give himself up, having exhausted all of their strength just trying to escape.

“Likewise, Brey will willingly give himself up, having exhausted all of his strength trying to elude

me. When we meet again, he will not fight if the fear is deeply planted in him.”

Zhesh looked at Flail again, shocked. “What do you care if you get him alive instead of dead?” he asked. “I thought you were out for revenge after what he did to you.” Flail looked at Zhesh again, his cold stoicism penetrating the thief’s soul like ice. “The reward for him alive is greater,” the large mercenary stated simply, and he walked away, leavings the thief soaking his arm in the trough of water. As he left, a malignant smile found its way to his face. That won’t stop me from utterly destroying him in the process, though.

Chapter 11: Mountains And Sheep A flock of ducks flew high above, their familiar V-shape formation pointing to the north like an arrowhead etched onto the overcast sky as they returned after their winter sojourn in warmer climates. Even though she was several hundred feet underneath them, Alena thought she heard the distant sounds of their relentless quacking. She followed their flight with her gaze, watching them eventually disappear over the ridge of one of the many rolling mountains that made up the lower parts of the Santeem Mid-Range. An ironic smile came to her face. Not even two weeks ago, she was flying with such a flock, only to be denied access into the mountains by her limited imagination. And, during that time, she thought she would never be able to cross the boundary within her mind. Well, the time of fantasizing was finally at an end and the open country was hers to explore. In hindsight, though, Alena began to wonder what her fuss had been all about. In all honesty, she had no idea what to expect when Brey told them they were going to be going through the mountains as the next stage of her personal quest. She had always believed the Santeem Mid-Range would be full of high jagged peaks, crisp glacial valleys, and dark, mysterious forests to explore. Rather, she found the mountains to be nothing more than a seemingly endless realm of one grassy hill after another. She had not been travelling through them for even two full days yet and already she was bored of walking.

Also, not once had she anticipated these high altitudes would be so rigorous when subjected to them for any extended length of time. The colder climate, thinning air, and consistent incline all began to take its toll on her early. The cloak Brey had provided her did very little to contain much warmth, especially during the night when the temperature would drop savagely below freezing.

Thinking of her companions, Alena turned her head to see how they were faring. Cristo seemed to be doing just as well as she, perhaps a little better. The bodyguard, after all, had been trained by some of the finest soldiers in Santeem to be her chaperon. While he was a slow learner, five years of basic cardiovascular exercises were paying off. There were only two reasons why he was lagging behind the princess, and both of them had to do with Brey.

The first was per the old tutor’s instructions. He wanted Alena to lead them through the Old Merchant Road so she could hone her navigation skills. At first it was not too difficult as the road was not hard to spot in the lower altitudes. However, harsher climates and years of general neglect had eroded the road almost entirely away in higher altitudes, causing the princess to stray off course much too often.

The second reason was so Cristo could tend to Brey, who was having a difficult time climbing the mountains. In the past, the old tutor tried to hide his age by joining Alena in general outings around the castle. Unfortunately, he was still an old man whose bones could not adapt to harsh climates as quickly as his younger companions. He would often begin to lag behind, his breathing becoming very shallow and leaning much more on his walking staff. While Cristo’s healing magic could erase some traces of pain the old tutor suffered, he could do nothing to erase the age that had caused it in the first place. And Brey, the fussy, old man he was, would always decline Cristo’s offer to help his condition, claiming he should not waste his healing magic on him needlessly. However, they all knew the real reason for each declination; Brey did not want to be treated as extra baggage. As she turned her attention back to the scant traces of the old, mountain road, Alena shook her head. Surely Brey had known the mountain climate would impede on his frail condition. Yet, he made a big deal about leaving right away, right in the middle of the night at that! He had not given a solid reason for his actions but he seemed very apprehensive about the situation and avoided any arguing. So, crawling out of bed, she followed her tutor’s orders and they began their sojourn into the mountains north of Surene. That had been a day ago, and, while Brey’s frenzy in leaving quickly had boosted her adrenaline that night, she had the opportunity to think about his actions as they traveled. Could it be they had been discovered? Alena did not think so, as her tutor had assured her he had several plans he could enact should such an event occur, and running from Surene to the mountains had not been one of them.

He had asked her where she would like to go if given the opportunity, and she had responded by saying she wanted to come to these mountains. Was this his strange way of making her dreams come true? Again, she decided it was not the case. While her skills had developed in Surene, she knew Brey felt she could still use more practice hunting kaskos hoppers. She had, after all, just recently got a feel for using the whip coiled on her belt but had not yet mastered its technique in battle.

No, Brey would have stayed in Surene so she could master her new weapon before venturing

further into the world. He would not have left the city unless he had absolutely no choice but to. She decided it would be worth her while to ask her tutor some of these questions plaguing her mind when they rested next.

Her wish came true prematurely, though, as she then heard Cristo calling, “Princess! Brey says we should bed down for the night!” Alena turned around and saw her companions were far behind her, apparently either having stopped for sometime or lagging too far. Probably the latter, she though bitterly. Sighing, she walked back to meet up with her companions. The princess knew Brey too well by now. He was too proud to admit he was tiring on their journey, so he made an excuse they should set up for the night. Despite the sun being obscured by a thick blanket of gray clouds, Alena guessed they probably had at least a few hours of daylight left.

Once she met up with her companions, the princess moved over to her old tutor. He was resting on a rock by the road and breathing heavily. “Are you feeling all right, Brey?” she asked, more to prove her theory than out of concern. He looked up at her, any sign of fatigue disappearing. “Of course I am,” he said resolutely, his beady eyes narrowing in irritation. Alena nodded, satisfied. She turned to Cristo and asked, “Do you think you can keep the fire going tonight? I have no intention of freezing like the night before.” Cristo frowned but nodded. “Good,” the princess said. “Go get some firewood, then.” The bodyguard looked at her for a moment, somewhat startled by the sudden directness of her order. He could not remember her ordering him or Brey in such a manner since he arrived at Surene. In fact, he could not remember Alena even ordering anyone back at the castle in such a manner either. The princess was always known to give out lazy commands, usually for a servant to fetch some food or clothes. The assertiveness in Alena’s tone of voice was something different than what he would have expected from her. Still, an order was an order, and Cristo set out over the sparse landscape in search of any wood the grassy mountains could offer. Alena smiled as she watched Cristo disappear over the rolling hills. For some reason, it felt good to give a direct order like that. It made her certain she had control over her actions instead of someone else leading her by the hand. Lately, with so many people trying to control her, whether it be her father condemning her to remain at the castle, or Brey taking her under his arm for instructive lessons, such a feeling was very rare. Brey smiled as well when he saw the princess beaming. He recognized the growth in her maturity, even though it was nothing more significant than telling her bodyguard to go fetch firewood. It really was not a large order, as Cristo would have done it one way or the other. However, the fact Alena was showing assertive signs of leadership with her direct approach to the command pleased him. They would need someone to take charge of future situations if they were to remain on the road together and Brey could not see it being him.

Although he had been teaching the princess several things while they were in Surene, the old tutor did not find himself to be much of a leader; rather, more of an instigator. And Cristo could never be much of a leader as his whole life was dedicated to devotion, whether as a Zenithist or his duty as Alena’s personal bodyguard.

As well, with the knowledge of Flail probably on their trail, Brey found his capacity for deductive thinking in any given situation was slowly becoming weakened. Just upon hearing from Cristo the mercenary was in Surene caused the old tutor to panic and have them leave right away. Was that any sign of a true leader?

He knew he was falling right into Flail’s mind game too. It was one of the most notorious in the world, which was what made the mercenary so reputed even out of Santeem. Yet, Brey found he could do nothing but fall into his mind game, to keep running like a victim pursued by wolves. He truly did fear a confrontation with the mercenary, even with his magic supporting him.

The longer he put off the inevitable, the happier Brey would remain.

* * * “...And then,” Cristo read aloud, “the Master, in all His might, said unto Merik, ‘Thou shall have my Divine protection, noble man of Gottside.’ He performed His great magic and Master Dragon gave unto noble Merik the power of Protection. Merik, in many ways, gave thanks to the Master, who is all knowing and, in His infinite wisdom-”

“And so on, and so on,” Brey interrupted half-heartedly, flinging an arm up in boredom. Cristo flashed the old man an annoyed glance but let it drop when he heard Alena’s giggling from the other side of the fire. “...in His infinite wisdom,” Cristo continued, keeping an eye on Brey, “knew Merik of Gottside was a fair man to be granted this truly unique gift. Thus was Merik of Gottside the first to be granted a few of the powers of the Zenithians, as reward for Man’s devotion to the Zenithian ways.” Cristo then finished the passage and closed his Text, closing his eyes as well as if taking in some sort of unseen, mystical power as he did so. The party was quiet for a moment, the crackling fire creating the only sound in the misty, mountain air. Alena stilly sat, mesmerized by the tale. Brey slightly fidgeted, obviously bored by Cristo’s reading. And Cristo remained unmoving, only his hand gently caressing the thick pocketbook in his lap. Finally, Alena broke the silence by saying, “That...was a really neat story.” Both Cristo and Brey looked at the princess with shocked, wide-open eyes, each for different reasons. “Did you really like it?” asked the bodyguard, his voice full of hope. “I can’t believe you actually believed in it!” the old tutor said disdainfully almost immediately after. “Hold it! Hold it!” Alena quickly said, bringing both hands up in front of her. “I merely said that I liked it. That doesn’t mean that I believe in it, or that I’m suddenly converted, or anything. I just said I liked it, that’s all.” Both men slowly leaned back on their respective rocks, silent for the moment. However, the silence did not last long as Brey leaned forward in Cristo’s direction and gave him a smug grin. “I knew your little plan wouldn’t work.” Cristo’s eyes widened in horror and quickly said, “Whatever makes you think it was my intention?” “Oh, come on, my dear cleric,” Brey said with a sly smile. “Why would you suddenly volunteer to read out an excerpt from your Text? Not for my pleasure, surely, as we all know I am ‘Damned to Vah-Kirgol.’ And the Princess is far too old to have bedtime stories read to her.” Cristo frowned again but this time did not say anything. “I knew it,” Brey smugly smiled. Alena, however, had enough of the old man’s pestering. She threw Brey an irritated glare and asked, “How can you go on like that?” Brey gave her a devilish grin. “Because its fun,” he simply stated. Alena narrowed her eyes and firmly said, “Well, I find it annoying. Does it really matter if I suddenly become a Zenithist? For all we know, this stuff is true and I may be headed to Vah-Kirgol as well for not believing.” “I seriously hope not,” Cristo muttered to himself, careful not to let the others hear him. However, Alena picked it up and turned her attention back to the bodyguard. “And you can stop worrying about me,” Alena said disdainfully to him. “If I choose to follow Zenithism, it’s my own choice, not yours. Understand?”

Cristo smiled for a moment, then suddenly bolted up in a perfect standing posture. He clicked his heels together and saluted the princess with a stiff hand at his temple. “Completely, your Highness,” he said in about the most serious voice he could muster. Alena stared at the attentive bodyguard for a moment, somewhat stunned by his actions. However, the moment was broken when Alena burst out into a horrendous laughter, which Brey and finally Cristo could not help but follow. Eventually, their laughter lessened enough for Alena to say, “Seriously, though, I am quite tired of hearing both of your theological debates. I want it to end here. Understand?” Both men reluctantly nodded. “Good,” she said, easily taking her seat back on her rock. “Now, then, I’d like to finish my meal.” The campfire remained relatively quiet for the moment, aside from the odd hiss and pop from the fire. Alena continued to eat, Brey occasionally poked the fire with his walking staff, and Cristo sat still, looking into the sky in an attempt to see some stars in the overcast blackness above. Brey noticed the bodyguard’s gazing, and evenly asked, “Tell me, Cristo, what would you do if you found out Zenithia didn’t exist?” “Brey!” Alena quickly snapped, annoyance crossing her face. “I’m not poking fun, Princess,” Brey was quick to respond. “I’m merely asking a question, one that has plagued my mind for some time. I’ve wanted to ask a cleric of Zenithism this for a while and I’m just taking the opportunity with a cleric in front of me.” “Apprentice cleric,” Cristo distantly added. “Close enough,” Brey said, shrugging. “It’s still better than the average devotee. Again, I ask you, Cristo. What would you do if you somehow flew above the clouds to search for Zenithia and found nothing but empty space; that it might not actually exist?” Alena turned to Cristo and adamantly said, “You don’t have to answer! He’s just trying to get another rise out of you.” The bodyguard knowingly smiled at her and said, “It’s alright, Princess, I don’t mind.”

He turned to face the old tutor on the other side of the fire and replied, “As for your response, it doesn’t really matter if I flew above the clouds to see if Zenithia does or does not exist.” He paused and closed his eyes, as if meditating. “In my heart,” he said, still smiling knowingly, “I know it exists.”

The campfire became silent again and Alena looked at Brey, expecting some sort of denouncement to Cristo’s claim. However, after several moments, Brey merely nodded, satisfied with Cristo’s response. “Thank you,” he said, smiling. The old tutor then resumed his poking of the fire.

Alena blinked in astonishment, hardly believing what transpired. She looked at Cristo for an explanation but the bodyguard could do no more than offer a shrug. Slowly, Alena continued to eat the chunk of bread she had started, letting the silence sink in again.

Eventually, Brey stood up from his rock and said, “I think we should decide on the watch shifts before we bed down for the night.” “Watch shifts?” Alena said, confused. Brey nodded. “When you travel on the road,” he explained, “it is only wise to have at least one person awake in case something hostile or unforeseen approaches the camp while we sleep.” “What could happen?” the princess asked, somewhat intrigued by the topic.

Brey shrugged. “Who knows,” he replied. “In these mountains, it is quite possible a band of troglodytes could roam from the higher regions, although it is rarely heard of. Those primitive monsters are too shy to roam near human roads or settlements.” “It’s still better to take the precaution of setting up watches, though, in case anything does happen,” Alena concluded thoughtfully. Brey nodded approvingly. Suddenly, the quiet night air was broken by a blood-curdling howl from far in the distant mountains. Everyone around the campfire froze, startled. It continued for several seconds, then faded into the misty night. After a moment of silence, Brey smiled. “Like wolves,” he said jokingly. “Wolves?” Cristo worriedly said, his eyes wide with horror. Brey chuckled and reassuringly said, “Relax. There are many herds of sheep in these hills. It’s probably just some pack far from here that’s picked up the scent of a herd which was foolish enough to stray from its masters.” Cristo looked at the old tutor for a moment, still not certain if Brey’s explanation was a good foundation for security. He looked at Alena, who merely shrugged. She seemed satisfied with her tutor’s explanation. The bodyguard eventually reluctantly agreed to it as well.

However, one thing bothered his mind. While he had not done much road travel from populated areas, he knew a wolf cry when he heard one.

Whatever made the howl was anything but a wolf.

* * *

It had been a slow morning with Alena, whom had agreed to take the middle watch, sleeping through most of its misty, cold bitterness. They had a light, cold breakfast when all three were up and about, no one really in the mood to start the fire up again and to save the firewood Cristo had been able to gather. When everyone was ready, Alena gave the order to move out again and the three fell into the previous day’s formation.

The traveling became somewhat easier as the day progressed. While the air continued to grow thinner and colder, the inclination began to level off. Soon the beaten road was bobbing up and down over the grassy hills instead of climbing them. However, the road was also beginning to thin as well and Alena often found herself facing what seemed to be several forks in the path. She tried asking Brey for advice but the old tutor could not offer much, knowing very little about the actual layout of the Mid-Range roads. Alena would just have to trust her instincts for the most part. The day passed swiftly, as did the next. The companions shared many memories by the campfire and resolutely continued their trek through the mountains. They would time to time see a flock of sheep grazing on a distant hillside; a hopeful sign civilization may be somewhere nearby. According to Brey, though, there were many tiny hovels tucked away in corners of the mountains where shepherds lived, so small they could not even be considered similar to the peasant villages occupying the low fields of Santeem. Therefore, straying from the road in an attempt to find one of these hovels to restock on traveling supplies was not a good idea. Instead, they would have to stay to the course, hoping there was a center of commerce within these mountains. The fourth night descended upon them and Brey made it known their food was running out. He informed the group they would have to start to ration. Alena was confused by the declaration but, when it was explained to her, she gasped in shock. The princess had never realized she was so greedy when it

came to food, always taking in as much as she could until she was full. Now she was being forced to eat as much as she needed to survive. The weather, which had been kind to them considering the high altitudes, quickly turned against them during the night. It had started as a light mist in the evening but escalated into drizzle by midnight. The rain was very cold and crept through their clothes. It was as if the water was purposely seeking their skin to make them as uncomfortable as possible.

By the time daylight broke, the drizzle turned into heavier drops, quickly soaking their clothes through and dampening their spirits. If it continued they would have a difficult time keeping a fire up at night and be forced to eat and sleep under wretched conditions.

Their spirits heightened, though, when Alena come across an old, weathered sign bent at a forty-

five degree angle into the road. The sign simply read, “East to the Village of Tempe.” The travelers now knew they were on the right path and a village was close by. The sooner they reached this village, the sooner they would be out of these miserable travelling conditions. With new resolve, the travelers quickened their pace and pushed forward.

Later that day, the rain began to slow down, turning into light drizzle again. Alena decided it would be a good idea to take a brief rest so they could dry out some of their supplies. As they rested by the road, Alena picked up the scent of something carried by the wind. It was not strong, but distinct. “Cristo,” she asked, sniffing the air, “do you smell that?” The bodyguard, who was helping Brey dry out their scant reserves of bread, looked up from his work and sniffed the air as well. However, after a moment, he shook his head. Alena looked to her tutor, who was already engaged in the same action. Just as the man beside him, Brey shook his head. Alena threw them an annoyed glare, somewhat angry at their incompetence. “Well, I know I smelled something,” she stated, standing up, “and I’m going to find out what it is. Care to join me?” Silence followed for a moment, the light drizzle creating the only noise above the quick bursts of wind.

Her curiosity growing impatient, Alena finally said, “Fine, I’ll go on my own then.” At that, she grabbed the thorn whip coiled at her hip and stormed off north from the road.

The two of them watched her walk over a downward slope before Brey looked up at Cristo and said, “Go after her.” “What?” the bodyguard asked, confused. Brey smiled and said, “I was merely testing her there, to see if she really had the initiative to go on her own.” He paused, giving the bodyguard a curious gaze. “Besides,” he added with a wry smile, “do you think she’s ready to venture on her own like that?” Cristo’s stunned silence confirmed Brey’s suspicion and the old tutor flung an arm out in the general direction of Alena’s path. “Go on,” he said. “I’ll be fine here.” The bodyguard nodded and immediately took off, his hand already on the hilt of his sword. Brey watched the bodyguard disappear over the hill where Alena had descended, hoping he had done the right thing. Of course, he had detected the smell; it was as though meat was rotting in the wind. However, he also knew it could be nothing, just a trick of the wind or a dead sheep that could not keep up with the rest of the herd. In truth, he hoped it was nothing more than that. He did not feel Alena could handle a confrontation with something of an aggressive nature right now since her training having been put

on hold while they traveled. Still, he was confident in her and Cristo’s ability to handle anything the mountains could throw at them, whether it was a pack of wolves or an army of troglodytes.

* * *

Cristo hurried over the drenched landscape, careful not to slip on the wet grasses making up most of the vegetation in these high altitudes. He was still somewhat confused by what had transpired between him and Brey. His command to “go after her” almost seemed to take on a double meaning to the bodyguard and, at first, he thought the old tutor knew something even Cristo was not willing to admit to himself. However, the bodyguard was relieved by Brey’s intention of his order and he wasted no time in following it. Cristo did not know why he had not followed her in the first place, though, especially since it was his duty to follow her. He guessed it was because her actions stunned him for the moment. The bodyguard had been completely unprepared for her to take off into the mountains alone. He figured she would not have gone if no one else would. In Alena’s past, either everyone would do what she desired or nothing would happen if there was disagreement. Despite her independent nature, the princess still felt the need to have someone around, to have an extra person to turn to for help. And was this assertiveness a good thing? Brey seemed to encourage it but Cristo did not. Not only were her actions emphasizing the growing distance between the bodyguard and herself but it was foolishly reckless as well.

He had smelled the rotting stench Alena had no doubt picked up and, as was often the case, he kept on thinking of the worst possible scenario. If something was rotting, then it meant something else had made a kill. The first thought had been wolves, as was usually the case in these climates. However, remembering a few nights back of the disturbing howl Brey had assumed was a wolf made Cristo think of something more dreadful, something that could very possibly still be nearby.

He quickened his pace, already picturing Alena in mortal combat with a huge, demonic creature only the Ruler of Evil could spawn from His realm of malignancy. A spell came to mind, although it was not the standard healing magic Zenithian clerics performed. Instead, it was a rudimentary protective spell he had learned but two nights ago called ‘Upper.’

Like many defensive spells higher level clerics could learn, it would thicken and harden the skin of the castee, creating a simple defensive barrier. Most clerics in ancient, war times would cast the spell on several knights and soldiers at once before sending them out into battle. The only drawback to ‘Upper’ was it could only work on a single person, while most high level defensive magic would often work on several allies. Still, Cristo already knew the recipient of the spell if needed.

Soon, Cristo saw Alena standing on the edge of a ridge, apparently looking down into a hidden glen. She was also very still, as if entranced by whatever was in the glen. Worry flashed over the bodyguard’s face, fearing she was under some sort of spell. He broke into a sprint up the ridge, screaming the princess’ name. However, once she heard her name being called, Alena turned around and saw Cristo running for her. The princess’ skin was very pale, as though she had just walked through Vah-Kirgol and back. Her face was that of pure terror, as though she had just seen the Ruler of Evil and lived to tell the tale. Her mouth opened slightly, allowing her to barely mumble, “Cristo...” “What is it?” he quickly asked upon reaching her. There did not appear to be any physical wounds on her but something had definitely attacked her mentally. Few people could become this afraid in a matter of seconds, especially one as resilient as Alena.

She looked at her bodyguard for a moment, apparently trying to describe what she had seen. However, her mouth could not form the words properly and she could not do anything except weakly point into the glen.

Cristo turned his head in the direction the princess pointed and his eyes widened with horror, his jaw falling slack.

Strewn across the glen lay the mutilated corpses of sheep, perhaps two or three herds of them. Many had large, gaping chunks of flesh ripped out from their furry hides, some were missing whole limbs or heads, while others were lacerated beyond recognition, the only clue to their original form being their deceased partners. The smell that arose from the glen was horrid and the damp, cold air caused great vents of steam to seemingly rise from several bodies.

Cristo found the strength to tear his gaze from the appalling scene to see how Alena was faring. Somehow, she had looked back into the glen, her gaze of horror still pasted upon her face.

“I...it’s terrible,” she murmured, transfixed on the scene below. “All those sheep...senselessly murdered like this.” She looked at her bodyguard, tears now mixing with her damp, pale face. “Cristo...” she whimpered, “what could do such a thing?”

The bodyguard did the only thing he could think to do at that moment; not because he wanted to, not because he was curious what would happen if he would, but because he knew it was what Alena needed.

He took her into his arms and held her tightly, lightly stroking her short, auburn hair. He felt her start to sob, the abomination of the glen finally taking full effect of her senses. I don’t know, he thought bitterly, but I promise you, Alena, we will find out.

Chapter 12: Tempe “Well...?” Cristo asked, watching Brey grimly study one of the more, discernable corpses. The old tutor made no response for the moment, apparently too focused on his work to hear.

The bodyguard shrugged and walked over to Alena who was sitting on a small rock, coiling and un-coiling her whip gingerly around her hand as to make sure none of the thorns got caught on her skin. “How are you?” he gently asked her, unsure how the princess would respond given how fragile her senses could become in this sort of situation.

Alena seemed to ignore him for a moment, intent on her whip wound on her tiny hands. Cristo was nearly ready to give up and started to head back over to Brey when the princess lightly said, “You know, Cristo, I actually like my hair like this.” The bodyguard turned his head and saw she was still concentrating on her whip, having not even looked up to talk to him. “What do you mean?” he gently asked, turning around to face her. “It’s freed my mind up,” she explained, finally looking up at him. “I never realized it before but all the hair that I had before seemed to weigh down on me, get in my face, distract my thoughts. I never realized it before but now I do, and I think it could grow on me if I let it.” Cristo looked at her for moment, a little stunned by her analogy. It did not take him long to realize, however, she was just trying to avoid the topic he had brought up. He wondered if he should let it drop at that but Brey had told him before should the Princess go through what she did today, it was better to make her confront it instead of bury it like most people would. So, again, he asked, “Are you feeling all right?”

Alena looked at her bodyguard for a moment before letting a subtle smile creep onto her lips. “I’ll be fine,” she assured. “It only took me by surprise, that’s all.” She paused, looking out into the glen where the light drizzle continued to soak the remains of the sheep. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything this gruesome before,” she muttered, more to herself than to her companion. “What do you think could have caused such an atrocity?” “I really don’t know,” Cristo admitted, following Alena’s gaze out into the glen, “although, I do have some suspicions.” “You can forget the obvious one,” Brey said, walking up to the pair with a cloth to his nose. “This was by no means the work of wolves.” “How can you be so sure, old man?” Cristo asked, turning to face the old tutor. “These attacks certainly look like something a large dog would do, and there’s plenty of paw tracks scattered about the glen.” “True enough,” said Brey, nodding, “but, like I said, this is not the work of wolves. They do not casually hunt down several herds into a glen, only to butcher them. They will usually only pick off a few stragglers and feast on the entire sheep, not large chunks. The paw tracks are also far larger than any wolf that I know of.” “What about your troglodytes?” Alena asked. “Would they do something like this?” Brey shook his head. “Trogs may be primitive,” he replied, “but they’re not stupid. They would not let so much meat go to waste.” “Then what could have caused this?” Cristo asked again, hoping that Brey already knew. “That...” Brey slowly muttered, looking out into the glen as he stroked his white whiskers, “is what I would like to know.”

* * *

The three travelers left the glen in sour moods. Their inability to do anything for the mutilated sheep had darkened their overall spirit. They had failed to find the cause of the atrocity and could not do anything for the poor animals but leave them in the glen to rot until some scavenger animal like slimes, rats, or crows came across the carcasses to feed on.

In addition, the travelers had hoped with the rain lightening earlier in the day, it would let up by the time nightfall came. However, such was not the case and the drizzle continued even by the time the skies began to darken.

Another predicament arose as well when they paused near nightfall to let Brey rest. At this time of the day, the travelers would usually set up camp to eat some supper and bed down for the night. However, the thoughts of sleeping on a damp ground did not sit well with any of them and none of them knew if they could keep a fire going with the climate so moist. Besides, the notion of something so sinister to slaughter sheep out in the mountains made them all more edgy than normal and none of the travelers believed they would get much sleep with that fear etched into their minds. So, instead of bedding down for the night, the group opted to continue into the night and hopefully reach Tempe soon. Twilight descended quickly, turning the drizzle from annoying into absolutely freezing. As well, hardly any light was provided to the travelers, their only source being a heavily obscured moon behind the overcast clouds. Quite often, Alena would stumble along the road, missing a rock or pit she would otherwise had no problem avoiding.

The princess had no idea if she was keeping to the road, so camouflaged during the day it became invisible at night. It would be very easy for her to lose sight and end up leading them off the trail. Still, Brey seemed to have enough faith in her to let her continue to lead.

The misty, cold rain continued to plunge into the night and Alena began to feel weathered, the drizzle having soaked her clothes and frozen her skin. She began to wonder if they should stop to rest, perhaps even for the night, despite the possible danger lurking in the mountains. However, after what seemed to be an eternity of walking through the darkness, the princess noticed something odd about the road she endeavored to remain on. Despite the constant bobbing the road took over the hills, she began to distinguish a general downward slope to the road. Making a mention of it to Brey, the old tutor nodded in agreement. The road was indeed beginning to descend from the mountains. No sooner than Alena made the discovery when the descent became steeper and the dusty road began to become a source of mountain run-off water, carving tiny, rapid creeks into the path. This run-off also began to create massive mud slicks in the road and the travelers had to be careful not to slip. Eventually, the road led to what appeared to be a ridge. It divided from there, one path descending into a large valley below and the other leading to the edge of the ridge. Alena wanted to take a rest before descending into the valley, however, and led them to the latter path. The travelers sat on a few damp, rocky outcrops, gathering their strength and taking the opportunity to eat a few of their rations. As they rested, Alena looked out into the valley, hoping she might be able to see some of the mountain scenery through the gloomy darkness surrounding them.

While the sodden night contained most of its secrets, one thing it did have a difficult time concealing were man-made lights. Far in the distance, hardly noticeable in the incandescent drizzle, Alena made out the definite flicker of lights gathered in a fairly north-centralized position in the valley. The princess quickly pointed it to her companions and their spirits heightened upon seeing the flickering lights. Within moments, the travelers were on their way again as they descended briskly into the valley.

* * *

By all accounts, Tempe was once a boom village.

Ages ago, when Santeem’s history began to take shape and before ocean-going ships started to dominate the world’s trade, merchant caravans from Endor and Bonmalmo would frequently traverse the Old Merchant Road. Tempe’s position at the head of a valley at one end of the Santeem Mid-Range was an ideal place for many merchants to rest before venturing into the mountain roads to Surene in the lowland fields.

However, once ships became the standard for trade, fewer and fewer merchants would find the

need to brave the Wild Lands and Mid-Range of Santeem. As a result, Tempe’s population began to decrease, many people unable to hold a business with the lack of merchants traveling through.

Still, there would always be reasons for a few residents to remain. While rarely used, there were still some merchants who were too poor to reach Surene by ship and would have to traverse the Wild Lands and Mid-Range to reach their destination. Similarly, many of the shepherd hovels within the mountains would need a center of commerce so they could stock up on supplies before bringing their wool to Surene for the spring.

The expectant empty houses, sheds, barns, and other, weather worn buildings of the ancient boom village dotted the outskirts of the valley pass where the three travelers saw the flickering lights the night before. Strangely, they seemed to continue through the valley for some time.

Brey knew a boom village when he saw one. If any residents remained --which they knew did after seeing the lights-- it would be logical for some of the populace to inhabit at least a few of these houses.

The old tutor noticed something odd about many of the abandoned houses, though. While many

of them were as he would expect, empty with mosses and vines crawling up their rotting frames, there were also a fair amount that appeared ravaged, whole portions torn from their basic structure. It was the sort of thing he would expect to see if a town had just recently been victim to a sacking.

Yet, he knew such was not possible. There had been no reports of any armies moving anywhere

near Santeem in any region. Could it be possible the troglodytes were becoming much more braver and attacking human settlements? Again, Brey figured it could not be possible, as the primitive monsters were not smart enough to lead an organized army against a village as large as Tempe.

The group of travelers soon reached the center of the village, much to their displeasure. If any of them had thought tiny Weser was wretched, it hardly compared to the state of ruin Tempe had to offer.

Very few buildings remained standing in good condition, most either neglected or sunken into the ground in a swampy mess. The valley’s vegetation, consisting of more trees and shrubs in the lower altitude, had already began to retake its domain in the village, creeping between and through some of the less fortunate structures.

Yet, people still seemed to be moving about, tending to whatever business they had to in the

poverty stricken settlement. All three of them stared at the miserable hamlet, none of them sure if they had the right place.

Eventually, Alena became daring enough to ask one of the peasants walking by with her child. “Excuse me,” the princess asked, “would this happen to be the village of Tempe?” The woman looked at the group, her eyes very solemn. If she knew the Princess of Santeem stood in front of her, she made no recognition of it. Normally, Alena would have been annoyed by the peasant’s ignorance. However, after such a harsh journey through the mountains, the princess could care less, her body too worn to start making accusations.

Eventually, the woman replied, “Indeed, y’ be in Tempe.” She paused for moment, then lightly added under her breath, “...a cursed village.”

“Cursed?” Alena asked, confused. However, the woman gave no explanation and continued on her way, dragging her child with her. The child kept staring back at the three travelers, then looked up at his mother, asking in a very hopeful voice, “They came t’ kill monster, mommy?” Again, she gave no reply and soon disappeared into the misty road. The three travelers stood in the middle of the muddy road for a moment, looking at each other in bewilderment. Eventually, Cristo broke the silence and asked Brey, “What did she mean, ‘a cursed village’?” “I...really don’t know,” Brey helplessly replied, shrugging his shoulders. “I was never made aware of a cursed village in the Mid-Range while at Santeem Castle.” He turned to Alena and asked, “Did your father ever make a mention of it, Princess?” She shook her head in response. The old tutor started to frown, stroking his long, white whiskers as he thought about the situation. Cristo started to scratch the back of his head, uneasily looking around the desolate village as if wondering if he had suddenly become afflicted with this unknown curse.

Alena, however, was determined to take action. “I don’t know about the two of you,” she said

adamantly, “but I have no intention of staying in a cursed village. I vote we quickly get some supplies and move on.” Both Cristo and Brey nodded in agreement.

With that settled, they moved towards the center of the village, expecting to find a market of some sort. However, there was less to offer than they hoped. There were no long streets of stands like in Surene, nor a general market such as they would find at the castle or in the farming villages surrounding it.

The only thing the center of pitiful Tempe offered was an old, crumbling well, so weathered none of the travelers believed it could hold any water. From there, the road divided three ways. One was to the west, where a few, shoddy houses lied, another to the east where the only respectable building stood, and finally to the north, where a small building rested with the road seemingly going through it underneath a large arch. Etched on the arch was a weathered statue, somewhat resembling a dragon but, after years of neglect, no one could be certain. No markets or shops could be seen from where they stood.

“This is ridiculous,” Alena finally grumbled. “Where can someone find a shop to buy at least food around here?” “There’s someone by the well,” Brey said, pointing in its direction. “He may know where we should go.” Alena nodded and the three of them walked over to the ancient well.

The man Brey had pointed out seemed to be pacing around it, his hands constantly moving around in agitation. Once they drew close enough, they could make out him mumbling many worrisome words. Unfortunately, none of them were completely coherent so they could not discover what his troubles were. It did not matter, though. Alena was quite content to leave this place once they got what they needed. The cool, misty air shrouding the village did nothing to make it a more hospitable area to remain.

Alena started to approach the man but, for some reason, found herself losing her nerve, probably because she was afraid to interrupt his thoughts. Brey quickly noticed this and interceded, doubtless because he disliked his surroundings more than his companions. “Excuse me, sir,” he firmly began to get the man’s attention, “but would you happen to know where a grocer lives.” The man bolted his head up, completely unaware the old tutor had approached him. “Huh?” he stammered, “Grocery? Down th’ street.” He pointed down the west road and quickly resumed his deep, worrisome thinking as if he had not even talked with Brey. The old tutor tilted his head in thanks, then started to lead the way down the street. However, they had not gone more than a few steps when the man by the well suddenly snapped his head back up and hysterically said, “Wait a moment! Did y’ want th’ grocer?” Brey sighed impatiently but turned around and replied, “Yes, my good man. We are travelers in desperate need of supplies, so, if you don’t mind-” “Y’ won’t find him at th’ store,” the man interrupted. “It’s closed.” Brey raised a bushy eyebrow. “How do you know this?” he asked. “I own th’ store.” The old tutor frowned and adamantly said, “Well, do you think you can open it up so we can-” However, Brey’s voice trailed off when he noticed the grocer was now completely ignoring them, walking away with the continued shaking of the hands. The old tutor was about to shout in disgust at him but realized it would be futile, the grocer’s mind too transfixed on something else.

He turned back to his companions, shaking his head. “I doubt we’ll be getting any supplies here,” he muttered bitterly.

“Perhaps the temple can help us, then,” Cristo said, pointing to the building on the north road. “Temple?” Alena said, looking down the road. “How did you know it was that?” “It has a carving of Master Dragon on the arch,” the bodyguard simply replied. Brey snorted, mumbling, “It sure isn’t much of a carving.” Indeed, as they had noticed before, the statue in the arch was a very poor rendition of what every Zenithist considered to be a god. In fact, had Cristo not informed them, they could almost consider the carving to be nothing more than a common dragon from myth. However, Cristo always seemed to have an excuse in defense of his fellow devotees and now was no exception. “The weather here is fairly savage, as we’ve found out for ourselves,” he said. “I’m sure the Master will forgive the followers here for their neglect if they tried to keep it in decent shape in the past.”

Alena and Brey looked at each other for a moment, a private joke sharing between them without any words at Cristo’s expense.

In the end, though, the three travelers found themselves entering the Zenithian Temple. It was in decent shape, given the status of the rest of the village. A few boards hung loosely off the walls, mold and moss could definitely be smelled throughout, and water seemed to be dripping from somewhere unseen. The road actually entered the temple and exited on the other side. In effect, travelers would have to come through this place of devotion whether they were a Zenithist or not (Brey mentally noted it was probably a good way to convert merchants in the past).

Since the road ran straight through the temple, mud was tracked onto the floorboards where a few benches rested. Aside from that, though, everything seemed to be in normal order...except for one thing; there were no clerics residing within the small temple.

“Hello?” Cristo called out as he looked around, his voice slightly echoing off the rotting wood that made up the basic structure. Aside from the occasional drip of water, the temple remained quiet for several moments.

The silence was broken, though, when they all picked up the creaking sound of floorboards at the opposite end of the temple. Their attention was quickly diverted to the podium where they saw a thin, middle-aged man in the temple’s standard priest clothes; traditional long, blue robes with white lining.

However, he was missing the traditional blue hat all priests and bishops were required to wear. In

addition, his robes were very dirty and faded, as though he had not bothered to wash them in some time. Still, he was a priest, and Cristo found the need to properly introduce himself to the higher ranked Zenithist.

“Greetings, Father,” the bodyguard said formally as he stepped forward. “I am Cristo Bendard, apprentice cleric of the Santeem Temple.” “Lieb,” the priest simply replied, purposely dropping all formality. He paused for a moment, taking the opportunity to judge the three travelers as he made his way from behind the podium. “And these are...?” he asked, holding his hand up to Cristo’s companions. Cristo nodded and held up a hand to Alena. “This is Alena San-ouch!”

The bony elbow of Brey jarring him in the ribs interrupted the bodyguard. He looked down at the old man in annoyance and Brey flashed him a glare, warning the bodyguard not to reveal their identities. Cristo immediately understood, realizing if Flail was still on their backs it would be a good idea to erase as much of their trail as possible.

Luckily, Lieb did not catch onto Cristo’s mistake and said, “Alena Sanouch. Strange name for a young man.” Alena’s eyes widened, suddenly realizing she was still wearing the leather hat and wayfarer’s clothes that made her look masculine. Not seeing any point in hiding her identity, she promptly removed the hat and firmly stated, “I’m a female.” Lieb’s eyes seemed to widen with surprise and Brey was quick to explain. “She’s an aspiring warrior,” he hastily said. “Yes,” the priest muttered, rubbing his chin, “I’ve heard of their kind.” He paused for a moment, then looked at Brey before asking, “And you are?” Cristo was about to say but the old tutor was quicker, knowing the bodyguard was not a good liar. “James Sanouch,” Brey said, utilizing the false last name that had worked so far. “My granddaughter here is taking me on a sojourn of our country with Cristo as our guide.” Lieb seemed satisfied and asked, “And what brings you three to this dismal place?” Cristo’s eyes widened with surprise and adamantly said, “Surely any place devoted to the Zenithians cannot be a place of despair.” “My friend,” the priest said, giving the bodyguard a wry smile, “Zenithia itself would be considered a place of despair if it were centered in our village.” Cristo again went wide-eyed but let the remark slide, seeing the general depression within Tempe had even affected this spiritual place. Satisfied Cristo was not going to interrupt him again, Brey said, “We are merely passing through and needed some traveling supplies. The grocery was closed so our friend here suggested maybe your fair temple could help us with our dilemma.” Lieb sighed and said, “I’m afraid all that I can offer is what you see, save my own, few meager possessions.” “Oh,” Brey muttered, dishearten. He paused for moment, then looked at his companions. “I guess we should move on, then.” They nodded and Cristo turned back to Lieb. “Thank you, anyway. May the Master always watch over you, Father Lieb.” The priest nodded in return before heading back to his place by the podium.

He halted his course upon noticing the three travelers were making their way towards the exit on his side of the temple. In a panicked motion, he leaped from the podium and stood directly in the middle of the road, his arms spread wide. “Where do you think you’re going?” he adamantly asked, his eyes wide with terror.

The three travelers stopped just in front of Lieb, startled by his action. “I said we were just passing through,” Brey replied, “so, if you don’t mind...” He started to walk forward again but the priest was quick to intercept.

“Please!” he said with pleading eyes. “I cannot allow you to pass!” “And why is that?” Cristo asked gently. Lieb looked at them for a long time, his mouth faltering every time he tried to give an explanation. “I...I...I...” he managed to stutter but no further reason came forth. After several seconds of this, Alena’s patience began to tire and she steadfastly stepped forth. “Listen,” she said, her voice filled with irritation, “we really don’t want to waste any time here, so we’re going to get by whether you like it or not.” At that, she firmly grabbed the priest by his robes and threw him out of their way, sending the poor man reeling into his podium. She dusted her hands off after the task was done and nodded to her companions. Brey smiled, obviously enjoying Alena’s decisive action. Cristo stared wide-eyed for a moment, then merely shrugged in Lieb’s direction, offering no consolation to the priest’s humiliation.

The three travelers started down the road again, ignoring Lieb's cry, “You don’t understand!” They had not even made it twenty feet down the muddy road when an ear-piercing scream was

heard from the general direction of the village center. Everyone instantly turned their attention to the other side of the temple, startled by the scream.

“Now you’ve done it!” Lieb moaned, sinking into the ground and covering his head with his arms.

“What?” Cristo incredulously said. “What did we do?” However, the priest gave no reply, already blubbering like a little boy. The three travelers could have continued to leave the village at that point but their sense of moral took a hold of them, wondering what their actions had done to cause such a terror in the village. Alena and Cristo dashed to the temple’s front arch, Brey hobbling on his walking staff as fast as he could behind. What they discovered caught them all by surprise. The villagers were screaming, running in a mad panic across the square. Chasing them appeared to be three wolves. However, watching the large dogs revealed they were nothing like their wild cousins. They were much larger than any form of dog they had ever seen, their shoulders easily reaching the height of a human's chest! Shaggy, brown hair hung loosely off their backs and gray foam frothed in their massive, snapping jaws as they pursued the villagers.

One of them made a massive leap at a young woman and brought her down, immediately clawing and tearing at her in an eager attempt to reach her flesh.

“Brey!” Alena cried, turning to him. Fortunately, the old tutor had already finished the spell, knowing he was the only who could help the unfortunate woman in time.

A spear of ice formed at his hands and he threw his arms out, sending the cold projectile flying at the large, shaggy wolf instantly. However, they were at least fifty feet away and his aim was less than perfect at that distance. It was enough, though, to cut through the monster’s back, sending a thin spray of crimson blood and hair into the air.

The large wolf let out a howl of pain, an all too familiar, blood-curdling howl that ripped through

the misty air.

Seeing the monster distracted, Alena used the opportunity to rush forward, her sense of moral unable to take the sight of the villager in danger of the large beast, especially if she was somehow the cause of it. “Princess!” Cristo called out after her, desperately reaching an arm out to stop her but failing in the process.

“Follow her,” Brey quickly said, breathing a bit heavily. “It’ll be a moment before I can cast another spell and she needs help against that thing.” Cristo nodded and rushed forward as well, ‘Upper’ already coming to his mind to help the Princess. As Alena charged forward, her hand was already on the whip at her hip. The large wolf, however, was quick to recover from Brey’s spell than she had anticipated and turned in the direction of where its assailant had come from.

It saw the princess rushing at it and it snarled in abhorrence, gray saliva dripping onto its terrified, but forgotten, victim; something putting up a fight instead of giving up always was more entertaining and made the meal that much more enjoyable. Getting up from the wounded, frightened woman, the large beast turned to face Alena and began a charge.

Alena paused in mid-rush, her jaw slack. She had not stopped because the monster had begun to storm her but because she finally had a chance to glimpse into the beast’s eyes. They were completely red, shining brilliantly in the daylight. There were no signs of pupils, no sign of intelligence; just a bloody slit buried deep in the monster’s face. So riveted by the beast’s eyes was Alena she did not notice it was already leaping for her, its jaws wide open to take in large amounts of her flesh. The princess managed to get her hands up in an attempt to block but the wolf’s massive weight crashed down on her and she fell to the ground, the leather armor she still wore underneath her travelling clothes protecting her back from several scars.

The beast’s claws landed heavily on her chest, knocking the wind from her. As she gasped in another breath of air, the monster’s horrid breath surrounded her, its foul, gray foam dripping on her uncontrollably. She had another chance to look into the monster’s eyes and saw beyond the eerie crimson glow a plan that foretold it would senselessly rip her flesh apart just for the thrill of the kill.

Before the large wolf had a chance to begin its grisly task though, Alena felt her skin harden and her eyes widened in horror. Was she turning to stone? She had heard of legends of ancient monsters with the power to do such things but surely not the beast on top of her!

The large wolf took a quick swipe at some of Alena’s hardening skin and the claw merely scratched the surface, hardly drawing blood. Its eyes widened in surprise as well, the beast more accustomed to seeing its victim’s blood freely spill out after such an attack. Realizing the monster was distracted, Alena quickly took the opportunity to scramble out from underneath the beast’s claws.

The distraction lasted only for mere seconds, however, and the large wolf was ready to attack

again as it leaped at the sprawling princess. This time, though, she was prepared and the princess got her whip out in front of her, stretching it taunt so when the monster’s jaws came forward, the thorns would catch the beast in the mouth.

Her plan worked as, just before the beast’s fetid breath reached her, the monster found it was

halted by several tiny but sharp thorns on a strip of leather biting into its mouth.

She had caught the monster off guard for a second and Alena made good use of that second. She immediately wrapped the rest of her whip around the large wolf’s neck and scrambled away again, pulling her weapon taunt.

The thorns bit deeply into the beast’s shaggy hide, causing it to yelp in pain. It tried to shake loose from the barbed weapon but Alena had a good hold on the beast’s neck as the thorns cut into its flesh mercilessly.

However, the monster was very strong and Alena did not know if she would be able to hold onto the creature for long.

“Cristo!” she called, struggling to keep the whip on all the while keeping her distance from the large wolf. “Kill it, fast!” The bodyguard rushed forward, though hesitated when he neared the savage creature. The wild bucking and snarling made him just a little apprehensive about approaching the large wolf. Plus, he had no idea where to stab the monster with his sword.

“Hurry!” Alena’s apprehensive voice cried and the bodyguard automatically dove in, praying to the Master his strike would kill the thing.

Somehow, he managed to stab the beast in the wound Brey’s magic had caused and it slid easily

through the monster’s ribcage and into its heart. It howled a horrendous death cry and savagely jerked which caused Alena to lose the grip on her weapon. Cristo hastily stepped back, unsure what the beast would do.

The large wolf started to shake violently but managed to face the bodyguard, intent to kill its

attacker before it died. However, it could not find the strength in its legs and the beast buckled over, a tiny whimper of pain escaping its massive, foaming jaws before dying.

Alena was about to congratulate Cristo on their victory when he suddenly shouted a warning to her. The princess turned around and saw the other two beasts slowly circling close to her, a malicious hatred glowing in their red, pupil-less eyes. They had obviously not taken the fact their kin had been killed by them kindly and were looking to seek vengeance.

“Cristo...!” she whispered, her voice distressed.

“I know,” he said, bringing his sword up defensively. “Get behind me.” Alena quickly did so, letting her bodyguard push her behind him. The large beasts slowly circled them, snarling and inching closer with each pass. Cristo patiently waited but did not know if he would be able to survive a sudden charge. He considered maybe using ‘Upper’ on himself as well but if he did, it might give away his secret about protecting the Princess.

Of course, he would not be that good of a protector if he was residing in Zenithia by the end of the day.

So absorbed in his thoughts was Cristo he did not notice one of the beasts leap at him. Too late the bodyguard brought his sword up to protect himself but it was not needed.

Just before the monster landed on him, a four-foot long spear of ice plunged through its shaggy hide, knocking it from its path before crashing solidly onto the muddy ground. There it lay yelping and twitching as the last remnants of its life escaped.

The last beast, seeing how its companions had fallen to these strange and aggressive villagers, decided it would be a better tactic to flee for now, despite the harsh treatment it may receive at the hands of its master. It snarled once at the three travelers, then darted towards the encroaching forest, a light rustle marking its path in the underbrush before fading in the distance. Alena and Cristo watched the large wolf disappear into the forest, hoping it would not return.

After they were satisfied it was gone for good, Cristo turned to Brey, flashing him an annoyed glare. “You certainly took long enough, old man!” he harshly accused, returning his sword to its scabbard by his hip.

“If you weren’t so incompetent of a fighter,” Brey shot back as he walked over to the pair, “I wouldn’t have had to expend so much energy trying to cast the same spell so fast!” Apparently, both rapid spells had taxed the old tutor, as he was breathing somewhat heavily than normal. “Who cares how it happened,” Alena quickly interceded, not having the patience to listen to her companions argue again. “We won and that’s what matters, right?” Brey lightly muttered, “Barely...” but it was so low no one heard. Alena walked over to the beast that still had her whip wrapped around its neck and kicked its heavy, shaggy hide, making sure it was dead. Satisfied it would not suddenly attack her, she proceeded to unravel her whip from its neck. Cristo walked over to the other carcass, curious about the beast. “I think we’ve found our sheep mutilator,” he dryly remarked, kicking the corpse as well. He turned to Brey whom had bent down to study the creature. “Any idea what it is, old man?” he asked. The old tutor shook his head. “I’ve never seen or heard of such a species of canine before.” He looked up and noticed that the villagers were timidly coming out of their homes and hiding places, unsure whether the threat had passed. “Apparently,” he added, “these people have.” His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a faint moaning from behind. He and Cristo turned around and saw the woman whom the large beast had first attacked. She had severe gashes across her dress, blood slowly oozing onto the ground she lay on. “Cristo,” Brey said, motioning to the wounded woman and the bodyguard immediately went to her. He looked over her wounds, studying their severity. Eventually, he stood up, a dire frown on his face. “I don’t think there’s anything I can do for her,” he grimly stated. “The wounds are too severe for my healing magic to work on her.” “Then go grab your priest friend, damn it!” Brey irritably said, an annoyed glare in his eyes. Cristo nodded hastily and rushed to the temple to find Lieb who was no doubt still quivering by the podium. Alena walked over to her tutor, watching her bodyguard disappear in the temple. She turned to Brey, concern in her face. “You didn’t have to be so harsh, Brey,” she said, frowning. The old tutor sighed but did not look up at the princess. “Alena,” he gently said, “there’s something strange going on here. It can’t be just a coincidence that these things attacked just as we were leaving.”

He stood up and looked at her, frowning. “If there’s some sort of curse on this village, we’ve somehow also become caught in it,” he grimly stated.

Chapter 13: Decisive Action The village eventually commenced with its regular routine, the somber mood of Tempe a lurking reminder of the curse hanging over the village. Instead of cheering for the three travelers’ victory over the beasts, various threats and curses were thrown at them, blaming the travelers for the attack. Some were even daring enough to throw small rocks, although they were fairly weak throws and easily avoidable.

Despite the harsh rebuttal from the peasants, Brey still managed to find out where the Lord of Tempe’s residence was. He had already suspected the large, well-kept house on the east road but he had to be certain, not wishing to waste time going from house to house.

It was only a one-story building but it was long, suggesting the rooms within were spread out lengthwise. A simple sign hung loosely above the front door reading Lord’s Manor, confirming this was indeed the correct residence.

Brey looked up at the long building, frowning. “‘Lord’s Manor,’” he sniffed disdainfully. “Even

the peasants in Weser had larger commendations than this.” Alena shot him a warning glare, reminding him to keep his opinions of peasant dwellings to himself.

The old tutor knocked on the door with his walking staff and stepped back, letting Cristo take the front as he seemed more the type of person these simple peasants would accept as the leader of the group. After waiting for several moments, they began to wonder if anyone was even home.

Cristo was about to knock again when they heard a lock rattle from inside. All three travelers prepped themselves, making sure they looked reasonably presentable to the Lord.

Soon, the door opened slightly and a middle-aged man with a declining hairline appeared. He was wearing a simple, tarnished jerkin with pants and his eyes were hallowing, as if he had not slept in days. “Yeh?” he timidly asked, keeping the door opened just a crack. His voice was weary, yet high-strung. “Hello,” Cristo greeted, tilting his head slightly. “Is the Lord of the village presently at home?” “Yeh,” the man replied, pausing for a second. “I’m th’ Lord’a Tempe.” Alena’s eyes widened with disbelief. Given his weak dialect and scruffy clothes, the man standing at the doorway could easily have been mistaken for a servant, perhaps even a street dweller. Was this the highest state of nobility in this wretched hamlet? Cristo, however, seemed undaunted and politely asked, “We were wondering if we might be able to have a word with you, regarding the curse on this village.” The lord looked at the three travelers for a moment, studying each individually. At length, he muttered, “Was’a you three that brought th’ rabidhounds to attack, wasn’t it?” “Rabidhounds?” Cristo repeated, confused. “Obviously the name of those beasts that attacked,” Brey said, stepping forward. The old tutor realized the bodyguard was not going to be able to get much accomplished doing the talking, so he decided he would have to take control of the situation.

“Greetings, my Lord,” he said, tilting his head in respect. “I am James Sanouch and-” “Yeh, th’ wizard,” the lord muttered again, his voice having an edge of contempt. Brey was quick to shake his head, knowing how many peasants feared wizards with great power. “No, my Lord,” he said. “Nothing more than a dabbler to protect myself as I wonder the world in my last years.” “It be quite nice, I sure,” the lord said sarcastically, “but I want t’have nothin’ to do with you or yer group’a trouble makers, so’s if y’d kindly leave th’ village...”

He started to close the door but Brey was quick to intercept by jutting his walking staff in the door’s path. “That was what we wanted to talk to you about, my Lord,” he said, grinning.

* * *

The three travelers sat around a small, pock-marked table waiting for their host to return with some refreshments. Being inside the lord’s manor shattered the tiny fantasy of the building being respectable. While well kept on the outside, the inside of the manor was in disarray; shoddy furniture and moldy walls made up most of the interior, with a repugnant, musty scent throughout. Eventually, the lord, whom had introduced himself as Patro, entered the living area, bringing a tray of mugs. “It be water or ale,” he stated as he set the tray down. “I’ve nothin’ else t’offer.”

The travelers nodded and took their respective mugs according to their taste; Alena and Cristo taking the mugs of water and Brey taking the ale. Both drinks were stale, though, as if mold had been growing in the barrels Patro had drawn the refreshments from. However, all were wise enough not to complain as guests.

Once Patro sat down at the table, Cristo decided to break the ice and asked, “So, my Lord, do you live here by yourself?” “Nay,” he replied, shaking his head, “I’m married.” “Where’s your wife, then?” Patro frowned and said, “She’s in th’ other room, mourning.” “Has there been a death?” Alena asked. “Nay...” the lord slowly said. He looked down at the table, a frown forming on his face. “Well,” he muttered, “not yet.” “What was that?” Cristo said, leaning forward. Patro shook his head, then looked up, muttering, “It be a long story.” “If it has anything to do with this ‘curse’ we keep hearing about, I think it would be a good idea to start at the beginning.” Brey halfheartedly said. He was lazily leaning back in his chair and casually drinking his ale. “Yeh...” the lord slowly said, nodding. “Yeh, I guess it would. “I think about five years ago,” he began, “a strange creature moved to th’ forests just north of th’ valley, bringing with it th’ packs of rabidhounds y’ saw in th’ square.” “What kind of creature?” Cristo asked. “I really don’t know,” the lord replied. “It don’t seem t’ look th’ same twice. It only has th’ shape of a man but everythin’ else be different.” He paused, expecting questions to spill out from the travelers. However, none were forthcoming, each satisfied with the explanation he had provided. Shrugging, Patro continued. “I guess it saw th’ village as an easy target for it t’ take over. It sent its rabidhounds through th’ streets, ravagin’ an’ destroyin’ anythin’ they came across. Most of th’ mess y’ see here was caused then. We really couldn’t fight back. We be a tiny village an’ ‘ave not a warrior among us t’ protect th’ village.

“After th’ rampage was done, th’ creature appeared in th’ village square an’ th’ rabidhounds formed a circle around their master. It stated its terms then; once a month, we had t’ offer a young female on a sacrifice alter, or else it would ravage th’ village t’ th’ ground. “How awful!” Alena gasped, a hand unconsciously reaching for her mouth. “Why didn’t you notify my fath--the King about this?” she asked, careful not to reveal her identity. Patro shook his head. “We try, believe me, we did try,” he explained, “but th’ creature wouldn’t let anyone leave th’ village. If someone tried, th’ rabidhounds would pursue th’ person, killing ‘im with not a shred o’ mercy. Then it would send th’ beasts in th’ village as punishment for defying its rule.” He paused again, shuddering as he apparently remembered a few of these instances.

The lord regained his composure, though, and continued. “It didn’t stop there, though. To make sure word of its control over us would never be let out, it forbade all merchant travel through th’ mountains. No one from th’ Wild Lands could pass through t’ reach Surene, an’ no one from Surene could pass through t’ th’ Wild Lands. If anyone did, it would, again, send th’ rabidhounds. So, we just try an’ turn all travelers away without mentioning th’ creature’s dominance over th’ village, hoping they would be spared.”

“Wait a minute,” Cristo suddenly said, his eyes widening. “Anyone who knew of the thing’s existence would be hunted down if they left the village? We know of its existence and you were trying to get us to leave!”

Patro said nothing, looking down at the table. Cristo stood up from his chair, pointing an accusing finger at the lord. “You knew those things would be after us the moment we left,” he proclaimed, “yet you tried to get us to leave, didn’t you?” Again, Patro said nothing, a frown forming at his face.

Cristo was about to persist with his accusations when Brey laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, forcing the bodyguard to sit back down. “It doesn’t really matter if it was his intention or not,” the old tutor said to him. “You know we can’t go back.” “Why not?” Alena asked, leaning forward to her companions. “Sure, the mountain road would be tough but-” “Don’t let it concern you, dear,” Brey interrupted, looking at her now. Alena waited for moment, expecting some sort of explanation but none came forth, so she leaned back into her chair. The old tutor now turned to Patro, a steel glare in his eyes. “Like it or not, my Lord,” he said, “we are going through to the Wild Lands.” The lord’s eyes widened in horror but Brey held up a hand, preventing Patro’s objection. “Let me finish,” the old tutor adamantly said. Satisfied the lord was not going to interrupt, Brey continued. “As I said, we are going to continue our journey to the Wild Lands. However, I do not like the idea of leaving this place victim to another attack as a result of our selfishness, nor does the idea of a pack of those beasts after us once we leave sit well with me either.”

Alena looked at her tutor for a moment, somewhat startled by his sudden sense of moral. Of course, she had the same sentiments as him but the fact he would bring them out like this surprised her.

“What’re y’ suggesting?” Patro asked, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Brey stroked his white whiskers for a moment, absorbed in deep thoughts. Finally, he looked back up and asked, “Do you know where this creature lives?”

“I said th’ forest north of here,” Patro replied, “though I don’t know exactly where, if that’s what y’ mean.” Brey nodded, expecting the answer. However, he did have a few other options open. “How do the sacrifices work, exactly,” he asked carefully. The lord sighed, obviously finding it difficult to talk about the subject. “We build a litter t’ place th’...victim...in,” he explained somberly, “then deliver it t’ th’ alter and leave it. Usually, a day later, th’ litter’s gone.” “Then someone or something takes it to that creature, right?” Alena concluded thoughtfully. Both Brey and Patro nodded in agreement. “Could we maybe follow it to its lair, then?” Cristo asked, anxious to take an active part in the conversation. However, Patro shook his head. “It only appears when th’ offerings are left,” the lord explained. “Believe me, it’s been tried.” He then looked down at the table, a mournful visage etching on his face. “What’s wrong?” Cristo asked. At length, Patro replied, “My...daughter, Nina. She’s t’ be th’ next offering.” The bodyguard sucked in his breath, sorry he had asked. The manor was quiet for a moment, the impact of Patro’s dilemma sinking in.

After a while, Brey leaned forward to Alena and motioned her to follow him to the side of the room, away from the lord’s ears. Once the pair had gathered together, the old tutor whispered to her, “This creature obviously has other things on its mind besides just ruling over a tiny village such as this.”

“What do you mean?” the princess whispered back. Brey gave her a grim smile. “Think about it, Princess,” he quietly explained. “Why would this thing just want young females?” “Well, I guess because they make for easy victims, and...” Alena started to reply before she actually thought about it. However, her voice trailed off, an appalled look in her eyes.

“Why that sick bastard!” she absently cursed, clenching a fist. She looked back at Brey and said, “It uses them as...as...?”

Brey nodded grimly. “I believe as much,” he stated, pausing for a moment to give Alena a sly smile, “but it may be to an advantage, I think.” “What do you mean by that?” she asked, starting to get irritated by Brey’s cryptic statements. “Don’t worry about that right now,” he evasively said. “I think I have a workable plan but it involves a huge responsibility on your part. You don’t have to agree to it right away but, like I said before, I don’t want to waste too much time here, so don’t take too long thinking about it.” “Of course I’ll help you out,” Alena immediately answered. “I have no more desire to spend the rest of my life in this lousy village than you do.” Brey nodded but kept a neutral expression, showing no sign of delight or disapproval in his wrinkled face. “Okay,” he said at length and hobbled back to the table. Alena looked at Brey for moment,

startled he had not explained his plan to her first, but merely shrugged it off, knowing he would reveal it in due time. Once everyone had gathered at the table again, Brey took a long gulp of his ale, seemingly finishing the mug off before wiping foam from his white whiskers. After he was done with his drink, the old tutor leaned forward in Patro’s direction and asked, “When is your daughter to be offered?” His voice seemed cold, making light of the lord’s apparent loss. “One week from now,” Patro replied, “when th’ moon is full again.” “Do you think this creature would mind if we delivered the offering a little early,” Brey asked. “Say, tomorrow?” At that, the lord bolted up from his chair and slammed his hands on the table. “Are y’asking me t’ sacrifice my daughter now?” he cried, his face filled with horror. “No, no!” Brey quickly replied, holding his hands up in an attempt to calm the lord down. Patro’s eyes remained agitated for a moment, staring incredulously at the old tutor but he eventually relaxed, taking his seat again.

Once Brey was satisfied Patro would not react in a similar manner again, he continued. “I take it you’ve tried arming the victims, am I right?”

The lord nodded solemnly and said, “We never hear from them again, just like th’ rest.” “I thought as much,” the old tutor grimly muttered, “but then none of them were really fighters to begin with, were they?” Again, Patro solemnly nodded. “This is what I propose, then,” he continued. “Why don’t we replace your Nina with someone who can fight?” “Who?” asked the lord. “I already said there be no one in our village who can...” His voice trailed off as his eyes strayed to Alena. Alena noticed and shifted uncomfortably in her seat, wondering why the lord had suddenly looked at her. She glanced at Brey, wondering why her tutor had stopped talking. The princess realized he was also looking at her, a knowing smile on his face.

Suddenly, she figured out why and her eyes spread wide open in shock. “What? Me?” she asked incredulously, pointing to herself.

“Yes, yes!” Patro cried, his eyes now filled with hope. “You! You could pass for th’ perfect offering! You’re th’ right age for it an’ you’re th’ aspiring warrior, right? Of course I’m right! Oh, perfect! Perfect! Elsa, Elsa! Guess what! Nina’s goin’ t’ be fine! She’s goin’ t’ be just fine!” His voice faded as the lord rushed through the manor, supposedly where his wife was mourning. Alena watched Patro disappear, her eyes wide with disbelief. She looked at Brey, who only offered a sincere smile and a shrug.

* * *

Cristo busied himself preparing a meal for the Princess but found it was somewhat difficult since not much food was to be had in Tempe. While there were several, small farming fields surrounding the village, the rabidhounds ravaged any crops the peasants tried to grow. As a result, vegetables had to be grown near what few houses remained standing. Given the rough terrain and environment, though, the best anyone could hope for were beans, barely, and sometimes potatoes.

Meat was a different story. According to Lieb, the rabidhounds would on occasion leave the slaughtered remains of sheep herds in the village square. While most of the largest portions would have been eaten already, there usually was enough left for the peasants to utilize for a while. The bodyguard stared at his finished work for a moment. Compared to the banquets the Princess was used to back home, string beans and a slab of veal could not even pass for an appetizer. However, it was a veritable feast to what they had been eating since they left Surene.

Satisfied she would be pleased with at least his effort, Cristo picked up the plate of food and went in search of Alena.

It did not take him long to find her. As he entered Tempe’s temple, the bodyguard saw her sitting on one of the front benches. She appeared to be watching two men working on the litter she was to be placed in for the sacrifice. Made of interwoven straw, it looked as though it could barely hold up a small child but the peasants assured it would be able to withstand nearly two hundred pounds of weight. If the villagers of Tempe had anything going for them, they definitely had some skill at craftsmanship.

As he watched them make the litter, though, Cristo found himself noticing how much it resembled a coffin.

Turning his attention back to Alena, he was a little surprised by her sitting posture. Rather than

leaning back with an arm lazily draped on the bench, she was sitting perfectly upright, similar to a praying stance during a sermon.

A bit of hope surged through Cristo’s body. Maybe the conversation he wanted to share with

Alena would be much easier than what he had anticipated. If she was praying to Master Dragon to help her during her unenviable task of becoming a sacrifice tomorrow, surely she must have a little belief in his religion.

As he drew closer, however, he realized she was not praying at all. Rather, Alena was merely staring at the two men do their work, apparently lost in deep thought.

If she was completely absorbed in her own world, talking to her would be pointless. It was widely known her solitude during these private moments was not to be interrupted out of fear of a severe verbal, sometimes even physical, thrashing.

Still, he had to try. This might be his last chance to help her. Taking a deep breath, Cristo approached the princess. She was momentarily startled when he came from behind, lightly tapping her shoulder. “Cristo,” she smiled, turning around. “I didn’t hear you come. Where’ve you been?” “Just talking with Lieb,” he nonchalantly lied.

The bodyguard put the plate of food in his hands forward. “I...thought you might be hungry,” he muttered. Alena generously took the plate and sat down on one of the temple’s benches with it.

She poked at the food for moment, trying to ascertain what animal the meat was from. “It’s veal,”

Cristo helpfully stated.

Alena’s eyes widened in shock, slightly pushing the meat to the far side of the plate. “After seeing those mutilated sheep,” she muttered, grabbing a string bean, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat meat again.” “I know how you feel,” Cristo said, joining her on the bench.

He watched her for moment as she lazily tilted her head back and dropped the string beans into

her mouth. The silence was uneasy, primarily since Cristo had so many things he wanted to say at that moment. He wanted to urge her she did not have to go forth with Brey’s plan, that she was risking her life needlessly. He wanted to inform her now would be a good time to put her faith in Zenithism, so if she died the next day, she could at least reside in Zenithia with him when his spirit would eventually journey there.

In all, though, he wanted to say...

The bodyguard quickly looked away, realizing the forbidden feelings were once again cropping up. He pushed them out of his mind, reminding himself such a thing could never be possible. He and Alena were nothing more than good friends, perhaps akin to each other as a brother and sister, but nothing more. His duty forbade it, his faith forbade it, and his mind forbade it.

Yet, why was his heart not forbidding it?

Finding some courage to at least express one of his concerns, Cristo turned back to Alena and started to say, “Princess-” However, he was immediately cut off when she stood up, handing him the plate. “Thanks for the beans,” she evenly said, then walked away. Cristo watched her leave the temple and disappear into the village. He kept his gaze on the entrance, eventually turning around as he let a heavy sigh escape his chest. “Blew it again, huh?” Brey’s voice came from behind. The bodyguard whipped around in surprise, seeing the old tutor sitting in one of the benches closest to the entrance. “What...what do you mean?” he stammered, more surprised by Brey’s sudden appearance. “Converting her,” Brey smiled devilishly. “That was your intent, wasn’t it?” Cristo turned away, frowning. “Leave me alone, old man,” he said with an annoyed tone. “I’m in no mood for your antagonism.” The old tutor stood up from the bench and hobbled over to Cristo. “Sorry,” he said sincerely. “Like the Princess once told me, some habits are hard to break.” Cristo fired an irritated glare at him. “Look, Brey,” he shot angrily, “unless you have some sort of business with me, I’d really-” “I do,” the old tutor interrupted.

He sat down at the bench with Cristo, resting his walking staff on his lap. “Alena mentioned to me something strange occurring during the battle with the rabidhounds earlier today,” he said at length. “She said her skin began to harden, as though it was turning to stone. She thought it was some sort of hidden power the rabidhounds held.”

“And is it?” Cristo evasively asked, his eyes wider than normal. “Of course not!” Brey said contemptibly. “They may have strange, red eyes, but nothing in this world has the power to turn something’s living flesh to stone with a mere gaze.”

A tiny smile cracked his wrinkled face. “There is, however, a race that, according to myth, can create a casing of iron around their skin, making them invulnerable to any attack, am I right?” “The Zenithians,” Cristo lightly muttered. Brey nodded. “And, along with that passage, it also mentioned Master Dragon granting us ‘mortals’ with a portion of that power. While it doesn’t create a cast-iron shell, I do believe that it does allow for the thickening of the skin, making it seemingly harder.” Cristo finally stood up, his threshold against Brey’s constant prying at its limit. “What are you getting at, old man?” Cristo shot at him, irritation flaming in his eyes. “Are you saying the Master suddenly found it in His heart to bless Alena with some protection?” “Of course not,” Brey frowned. “You know I don’t believe in a realm in the sky with celestial beings and a great dragon overlooking us.” “Then what?” “I’ve read the Texts,” Brey said, “and, although I’ve never seen it, I know some clerics have the power to cast protective magic as well as healing magic, to make the castee’s skin become harder, thus more defensive.” He paused for a moment, giving the bodyguard an insidious grin. “I just had no idea you had that kind of power.” Cristo’s eyes widened. “W…what makes you think it’s me?” he incredulously asked. “It might have been Lieb, or one of the villagers, or-” “These peasants couldn’t even begin to comprehend such kinds of enchantments,” Brey scoffed, flinging a hand up in disgust. “And as for Lieb, even if that quivering excuse for a priest knew of such a spell, I doubt he would have used it on Alena. Probably just cast it on himself.” “Then I take it you’ve told her about me,” Cristo grimly stated, sitting back down. “Actually, I haven’t,” Brey responded, causing the bodyguard to look at him with surprise. “I merely told her that it was probably her imagination, something caused by her surging adrenaline during the battle.” Cristo stared at the old tutor in wonderment. “Why?” was all the bodyguard could manage to ask. Brey heaved a heavy sigh, turning his gaze at the men working on the litter. “The Princess is making advances with her potential in leaps and bounds,” he explained, “but her rushing steadfastly into the battle today proves she still has much further to go. Had you not cast the spell on her today, she may have gotten seriously injured, perhaps even killed.” He paused, turning back to face the bodyguard. “Cristo,” he said at length, “I want you to continue to use the spell on her, making sure she doesn’t injure herself too severely if she ever does that again.” He nodded, then asked, “Should we let her know that I am doing this?” Brey shook his head. “If she knows she has added protection on her all the time,” the old tutor explained, “then she won’t fight to the maximum of her capabilities, using it as an excuse to slack off on her defensive.”

“I understand,” Cristo said, nodding. He leaned back in the bench, feeling much happier than before. Brey was allowing him to continue his duty to protect the Princess. There was not much else the bodyguard could have wanted. The men finished mounting the carrying poles and placed it by the temple’s podium, where it would rest until he and Brey would bring it to the sacrificial alter with Alena in it the next day. From there, he and Brey would hide in the underbrush, waiting to see if the creature would appear or not.

Cristo hoped it would appear at the altar. It would be a simple enough task, then, to slay the creature by surprise. However, if something else came and brought the litter to the creature’s lair, he and Brey would have to give chase, risking being found by the rabidhounds and forcing Alena to fend for herself until they could reach her.

A sudden thought came to the bodyguard and he turned to the old tutor beside him, asking, “Brey, do you truly believe Alena can fend for herself?” Brey looked at Cristo, an erudite smile on his wrinkled face. “Remember what she did to Flail?” he asked. “Yes,” Cristo grimly replied. “I was the one to heal his face.” Brey nodded, then said, “And do you remember what she did to the innkeeper’s face in Weser?” “Yes,” Cristo grimly replied again. “Again, I was the one to heal it.” He then looked at the rotting floorboards and muttered with contempt, “...although the man didn’t deserve it.” Brey nodded again as he stood up. Placing a hand on the bodyguard’s shoulder, he said, “Then you probably won’t have any reason to heal this creature once she’s done with it.”

Chapter 14: Reconcilement

Alena sat on the edge of Tempe’s useless well. Peasants milled around her in their usual, somber attitude, completely ignoring the princess. Apparently, they were still mad at her for causing the rabidhounds to attack the village. They had no idea she would try to save them tomorrow.

The princess knew there would be no point in telling them, though. Depression was too deep within their hearts and they could never believe her.

Even she was having difficulty in believing the fact she was about to become an offering for a creature that obviously had vile and perverted intentions on its thoughts. In her mind, Brey had tricked her into accepting this responsibility. Why was she still even going through with this? She held no loyalty to these peasants. As far as she was concerned, she and her companions should just leave Tempe and be done with it. They had already managed to defend themselves against one group of rabidhounds effectively. If more decided to try and stop them from leaving the village, she would just show the beasts they were not to be messed with. Sighing, Alena stood up and started walking in no particular direction. She noticed her shoulders were intensely stiff from remaining inactive for so long in the cool, damp air of the valley. The princess rotated them to loosen the sockets, followed by a mild massage to work out any leftover kinks.

As she kneaded her muscles, Alena noticed they had gained some bulk since she left the castle. It made sense for her to be making muscle, though. Carrying that heavy club at the beginning of her hunting

lessons had not been easy at first. The princess flexed her arm back and forth, seeing if some of her other muscles had perhaps grown in the last two weeks as well.

She stopped herself, a sudden thought coming to mind. Has it really been only two weeks? In that short time span, her world had been turned upside-down, her dreams had come true only to turn into nightmares, and now the fate of an entire village would rest on her actions the next day. She had done more traveling, seen more battles, and enhanced her maturity more than in perhaps the last year. Things she had wished for, she now took for granted; and what she had always taken for granted, she now wished for. Everything had changed for her, all thanks to Brey giving her the chance to let any hidden abilities come forth. Maybe that was the reason she was hesitant about abandoning the task he placed on her. It would be a simple enough matter to say she did not want to do it, that she was not ready for such a huge responsibility. However, something inside her seemed to urge her to actually go through with it. Deep in her heart, Alena was curious if she could actually save an entire village.

Brey had seldom praised her for the astounding growth she had gone through since they left the castle. Unfortunately, of what seldom praise there was to be had, it all went straight to her head. Lately, the princess felt she could take on opponents as powerful as even Esturk or Master Dragon and come away from the battle victorious. She would not have rushed steadfastly into fighting the rabidhounds otherwise.

Maybe she should find out just how strong she had become. If she went just a little outside the

village’s outskirts, perhaps some of the rabidhounds would attempt to engage her. If anything, it would be good practice for the next day.

Satisfied with her logic, Alena started walking down a thin trail leading outside the village. The encroaching forest was fairly thick, hanging branches and thorny bushes making it a difficult

to navigate on the path. However, so long as she kept in a straight line, Alena figured she would be able to find her way back.

Aside from the usual ambience of birds chirping and the wind rushing through the canopy, the

forest was relatively quiet. Thus, when the sound of rustling bushes was heard, Alena’s nerves instantly went on edge.

The princess stood still, slowly turning her head to the left. Her hand was already on her whip,

ready to unleash the weapon with the slightest movement from the forest. She did not know if her whip would be too effective given the lack of room from all the trees and bushes surrounding her but it felt reassuring to have it within her grip.

For several seconds Alena remained unmoving, waiting for whatever was in the bush to present

itself. Her first thoughts had been a rabidhound. However, if it were such a beast, surely it would have attacked by now. Either it was already gone or nothing had even been there. Her patience wearing thin, she decided to investigate the source of movement herself.

Alena’s eyes widened slightly upon spreading the bushes apart. Quivering just at her feet was a

little ball of red jelly with big, white eyes seemingly pasted on its face: a red slime. The princess knew of slimes. Although most people considered them nuisances, others found

them to be quite marketable as dolls or even pets. Alena herself grew up with several slime dolls and humming children tunes like, “Hickory, dickory, dock/The slime oozed up the clock.” This was the first time she had ever seen one out in the wild, however, and she was more than intrigued by it. “Aaww, how cute,” she absently said.

Her fascination would cost her, though, as she did not have enough time to block an impending attack from behind.

Alena sensed the movement and started to turn around. A thick branch caught her squarely in the

stomach. Instinctively, she doubled over and groaned as a sickening pain took over her body. It was quickly eclipsed, though, as her back was struck next. The princess collapsed, her body landing heavily on a wet layer of leaves and branches underneath.

Although the blows had stunned her, she still had enough sense about her to think up a quick

counter-attack. She lay still, hoping it would fool her assailant into thinking she had been knocked unconscious.

Sure enough, after a slight nudge, the assailant relaxed and called out, “Nina! Y’ c’n come out!

‘Tis safe now.” Nina! Why did that name sound familiar? Another person emerged from the forest and Alena managed to tilt her eyes upward enough to see

who was standing before her. One was a man with messy, overgrown hair, a slack jaw, and ragged clothes. The other was a girl, probably just a little younger than the princess. Her overall appearance was not much better, sporting ratty hair, bucked teeth and a mud-stained dress. Both had dust caked to their skin and depressed eyes.

“’Tis a woman,” the one called Nina gasped. The red slime emerged then as well, hoping over

Alena’s prone body and into the arms of Nina. “Good, Jelly,” she said to the slime, patting it on its head. “It’s th’ one from earlier,” the man said. “Th’ one who fought th’ dogs.” Alena’s head was slightly nudged by Nina with her foot. “Is she…dead?” The princess smiled

devilishly. Now was as good as any time to strike back. Like a snapping bowstring, her arm shot out and clutched the peasant girl’s ankle. Alena yanked

back and Nina fell down. Within seconds, the princess was crouching on her feet, the peasant girl within her grasp. Alena

had acted so swiftly, Nina did not even realize she had fallen when she found herself within the princess’ grasp. When she did realize it, though, the peasant girl let out a horrendous shriek of fright, nearly causing Alena’s ears to go deaf.

The man almost dropped his weapon out of shock as well but managed to bring it up in a ready

position. “Let ‘er go!” he shouted, his voice wavering. The thick branch in his hands was noticeably shaking as well.

Alena smiled. Both of them were obviously frightened and she figured she could easily control

the outcome of this pointless skirmish. “Drop your weapon first,” the princess said, “or I won’t spare this girl’s life.” It was an empty threat but Alena guessed the man would not yield short of anything else.

He hesitated, looking into Nina’s frightened eyes for an answer. “I promise not to harm either of

you if you do as I say,” the princess added. To reaffirm she had control of the situation, Alena tightened the chokehold on Nina. The girl released another frightened yelp.

Suddenly, a mild but sharp pain in her calf caused Alena to flinch. “Ouch!” she mumbled and

instinctively looked down. To her surprise, the red slime had somehow bitten her! “Why you…” the princess started to say but quickly realized she had just let her guard down.

Acting on pure reflex, she threw down Nina just in time to free her arms and block the descending

weapon. The impact jarred her but did not cause her to falter. As she absorbed the attack, Alena kicked her right leg out and wrapped it around the man’s own

leg. She yanked back and he ungracefully fell backwards, the thick branch flying from his surprised hands. The princess was upon him in a flash, pulling him up and placing him in a similar hold.

“Frankie!” Nina screamed. She frantically looked around for a weapon of some sort. “Hold it right there, Nina!” Alena said. “Make another move and I swear I’ll choke the life out of

your Frankie.” With those words, the peasant girl instantly froze. “Good, Nina,” the princess smiled. “Now, take your little pet slime and sit quietly there for just a

few seconds.” Nodding, Nina sat down and motioned for the red slime. It hopped gleefully into her arms, seemingly ignorant of the situation.

Satisfied she would have no further interruptions, Alena turned her attention back to her captive

and whispered into his ear. “Now listen to me, Frankie. I’m going to let you go in a few seconds. When I do, you will sit quietly with Nina. Do you understand?”

“M’ name’s Frank,” he grumbled. “Y’ave no right t’ call me Frankie. Only Nina c’n call me

that.” Alena blinked for a moment, surprised by the courage he still displayed. “Very well, Frank,” she

said at length. “Will you behave now?” The man nodded and she relinquished her hold. The princess was probably just as relieved to be out of that position as he was. His unwashed body held such a repugnant odor, she thought she might have passed out from it.

Frank made his way over to Nina and sat down beside her, asking if she was all right. Alena

watched them with a slight bit of curiosity. They hugged each other, showed concern for one another, even kissed each other’s dirty skin. No revulsion was made about the way they looked or smelled. It seemed as though their senses of sight and smell were completely turned off.

Then again, Alena would not be too surprised if these simple folk were missing a few of their

marbles. Growing impatient with their constant cooing over each other, Alena kneeled down in front of the

two peasants. Nina cringed back and Frank moved protectively forward. The princess held her hands up, reassuring them she meant no harm.

“I just want to ask you a question,” she said at length, looking at Nina. “Is your father Lord

Patro?” A stunned expression came to the peasant girl’s face. “Y…yeh,” she replied. “He is. How’d y’

know?” “I met him earlier but that doesn’t matter,” Alena quickly said. Something was troubling her mind

and she had no desire to get off topic. “If he’s your father, then I take it you are both from Tempe, right?” “That’s right,” Frank replied coldly. He still seemed very untrusting and Alena figured he had a

right to be. After all, she had made threats at them. The princess would not act any different in the reversed situation.

“What are you doing out here then?” Alena continued.

“We’re runnin’ away,” Nina said, her voice sounding a little more trusting. Frank shot her a

surprised glance but the peasant girl ignored it. “I was chosin’ t’ be th’ next sacrifice.” “Running away won’t help you,” Alena stated. “Don’t you know there are rabidhounds out here?

They’ll kill you if they find out you tried to leave the village.” “It don’t matter,” Frank replied. “We’d be dead if we stay there too.” The princess stared at them for a second, stunned by his words. “Huh? I don’t understand? Sure,

Nina might be in danger because of the sacrifice but that doesn’t…” Suddenly, Frank’s face burst out in a fury of emotion. “Are y’ dumb or jus’ stupid?” he shot

angrily. Alena frowned. She did not like being insulted, especially by a peasant. The princess stood up

and leaned threateningly over the two peasants. “Now wait a minute here,” she started but was immediately cut off.

“Nina’ll die if she stays here!” he shouted, his face flushing red. “If Nina dies, I got nothin’ left t’

live for! I’ll follow ‘er to Zenithia if I must but it’d be easier t’ jus’ leave th’ village an’ live somewhere else.”

Nina lightly touched his shoulder. “Frankie,” she gently said, “y’ don’t ‘ave t’ be so harsh.” “No, Nina!” he said. His voice was calmer but he kept his eyes on Alena. “Jus’ cause she talk

with a nice, southern tongue, c’n kill a dog or two, an’ even beat me, she think she know more than th’ Master himself!”

Frank stood up, coming face to face with Alena. His eyes were like daggers piercing her own

delicate orbs. “I love Nina more than me own life,” he firmly stated, “an’ I’ll protect ‘er any way I c’n. If I have t’ fight a few dogs to do it, fine. If I have t’ fight some smart-assed southerner too, I’d be jus’ fine with it too.”

Alena stared at the peasant, her body remaining tense. She could easily do some serious harm to

him if she really wanted to. The princess knew she had to ability to cripple him, perhaps even kill him if she really desired it. Judging by the nervous twitch in his eyes, she figured he sensed it as well.

Then why was he being such an idiot and challenging her? Was his pride at stake? Did these

peasants detest the richer people of the southern fields of Santeem so much? Or was this love he held for Nina so strong he truly was willing to put his life on the line to

protect her? If love like this was so blinding, Alena could care less for it. All it would be was a useless distraction in any situation.

The princess so much wanted to punch the peasant for insulting her but she had better control of

her rage these days. Brey had made it clear early in her training she was going to have to be careful and not let her savage emotions get the better of her. If she gave into her anger, who knew who could be her next victim like the innkeeper in Weser. Certainly the peasant standing in front of her was not worth such an emotional outburst.

Besides, he did have a point. If Nina went back to the village, she would be next to be sacrificed.

If she tried to run away, the rabidhounds would surely find and slaughter her and Frank. Either way, they would both end up dead, unless…

“Frankie!” Nina nearly screamed in fright, cutting Alena’s thoughts off for the moment. “Don’t worry, Nina,” Alena calmly said, drawing a surprised stare from both peasants. “I

wouldn’t fight him even if I had to. It just isn’t worth it.” The princess backed away, keeping her rage in check.

Frank backed up as well, helping Nina to her feet. He clearly was relieved he did not have to

engage the princess in a fistfight. “What’re y’ gonna do?” he asked Alena. “I guess I should take you two back to the village with me,” she replied. Seeing their worried

expression, the princess was quick to add, “But don’t worry, Nina. You won’t be a sacrifice once you get home.”

“What?” she said, her eyes widening. “But…why?” Alena chewed her lip for a moment. Frank’s verbal outburst had hit her hard. At first she was

only willing to do this to see if she had the ability within her but, in retrospect, such a motive was purely selfish. There was more at stake here than she realized.

Even if Nina somehow lived if Alena did nothing, which girl would be next? Would she have an

equally tragic story to tell? And what of those girls before her? How many in the past had shared this perverse fate, their

loved ones killing themselves out of pure depression as well? No, this terrible cycle had to end. An entire village of people was praying to the Master she

would be successful in her task, praying their years of suffering would finally come to an end should she be successful. All their hopes were riding on her tiny shoulders and Alena knew she could not let them down. In the end, they were human beings just like her, feeling the same pains and having the same emotional turmoil as she did.

“I’m going to be taking your place,” she replied at length. Nina and Frank stared at her, absolutely stunned. Tears began to fill the peasant girl’s eyes before

she suddenly rushed forward, embracing an off-guard Alena. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” she cried.

After an awkward moment, the princess hesitantly put her arm around Nina, lightly patting her on

the back. “Your…welcome,” she said, unsure whether Nina had meant, “Thank you for saving me,” or “Thank you for dying for me.”

* * *

Dawn broke over the valley’s walls early, though its rays of light had difficulty penetrating a low, thick fog. There was enough sunlight to peak through a dense forest on the steep, sloping hills to the sacrificial altar that rested on a low knoll, though.

A crumbling pillar cast a long shadow that seemed to reach out like death’s hands. The object the shadow reached for was a litter, made of sturdy, interwoven straw. The still morning remained motionless, the fog slowly oozing over the low, rolling hills of the valley.

The tranquility was abruptly interrupted by a loud rustling from the underbrush surrounding the altar. From there, two rabidhounds entered, low growls emitting from their large chests as they sniffed the air. The one in the lead cautiously approached the litter.

He and his companion were to patrol near the altar, just as their master had instructed. Whenever the offering was made, they would take it and deliver. However, the litter had arrived earlier than normal. Again, he sniffed the air, this time to ascertain whether there was a young female inside or not. Sure enough, the rabidhound’s powerful sense picked up the scent. The offering was here, just earlier than normal.

The large beast sniffed the air again, this time to determine if there was anyone nearby, if any of the villagers dared to make one last attempt to save the victim. Again, the rabidhound could detect none of the familiar scents the villagers provided. This was just like any other offering, only early. It could be possible his master had moved the time of the sacrifice ahead, eager to receive the young female in advance.

Satisfied with his reasoning, the rabidhound barked a command at his companion, and the two beasts rushed for the litter, clamping their massive jaws around the carrying poles before lopping off into the woods.

The large beast was eager to deliver the victim to his master. A meaty shell would be the reward for the rabidhound’s work.

Chapter 15: Chameleon “Damn it!” Cristo swore, taking his frustration out on a sapling as he swatted the tiny tree. “Take it easy,” Brey said, putting a restraining hand on the bodyguard’s shoulder. “We expected this, remember?” “I know,” Cristo muttered, regaining his composure. “I was just hoping...” “Well, don’t,” the old tutor harshly said. “We can’t go on hope regarding every little thing in life, and strategic plans are no exception. We were fortunate enough the rabidhounds didn’t pick up our scents.” He looked back at the alter, frowning. “How long does that spell last?” he asked. “I don’t really know,” Cristo replied, “but, from what I’ve read, ‘Upper’ can last for as long as a half hour.” “Then it’s best we get a move on,” the old tutor muttered. He and Cristo stood up from their hiding spot and hastily gave chase after the rabidhounds.

* * *

Alena tried to remain as motionless as possible but, in the constant jostling the bounding rabidhounds created, she found it a futile effort and eventually gave up, allowing herself to take the rough ride resolutely. She tried to peek through the interwoven straw to see where she was going but all she could make out was the faint blur of the forest and the dark silhouette of the beasts carrying the litter. If she got out of this alive, it would be quite the effort to find her way back to the village. The princess stopped her thoughts, realizing doubt was creeping into her mind. Before they had parted, Brey told her to keep her faith up, to have belief the plan will work. Just in the same way Cristo “knew” Zenithia existed, so should she “know” she would succeed. She started to repeat it in her mind, getting it fixed so her actions would become automatic, so every possible doubt was erased.

As she did this, Alena noticed her breathing was becoming more rapid and she began to feel as though butterflies were fluttering throughout her gut. Above all, though, she noticed her skin was much thicker than before, almost leathery. How this was being caused still remained a mystery to the princess. Her thoughts strayed to the battle the day before, when her skin did the same thing when she was in close contact with a rabidhound. She was now close to two of the large beasts but Brey had told her it had nothing to do with them, that her thickening skin was caused by her adrenaline-filled imagination. Yet, she had felt adrenaline coursing through her veins many times in the past and her skin had remained the same. Only in the rabidhounds’ presence did it occur.

It’s not a major concern, I guess, she absently thought as she rubbed her arm. It is handy.

So absorbed in her thoughts was Alena, she did not even notice the rabidhounds had slowed their pace to an easy trot instead of a full out run. Probably getting close, she thought grimly, fingering the hilt of a dagger concealed within the simple dress the villagers had provided her with. She would have felt more secure carrying her whip but she had to look like a villager for the creature to not suspect she knew how to fight.

Although her short hair could be a dead giveaway, the dress she wore would probably take the creature’s attention from her head anyway. It was designed to be more revealing than most, displaying more of her bosom than modesty dictated. A slit run up the lower hem of the dress to expose the length of her thigh; that is, if she knew how to reveal it in such a manner. Whether this was something the creature demanded, or something the villagers thought suitable for a sacrifice, Alena did not know. However, it was probably distracting enough for her to get close to the creature for the dagger to be effective. The draft it created, though, was not pleasing and she hoped this would be over and done with quickly so she could get back into her travelling clothes.

The rabidhounds continued to slow down and, eventually, Alena noticed her surroundings becoming slightly darker. She struggled to look through the casket and saw rocky lining instead of trees and bushes all around her. She quickly realized they had entered the creature’s lair. The large beasts continued to carry the casket through the cave, never seeming to tire. It progressively grew darker and soon Alena found that she could hardly see the hands in front of her. Would it remain this dark? The princess did not know if she could fight in the dark but if it did come to that, she would have to do her best. However, Alena noticed the cave begin to lighten by the dim glow of torches. As soon as the torchlight came into focus, the litter roughly dropped on the ground, sending a jarring sensation through the princess’ body.

After rubbing her rump to soothe the pain, Alena tried to get a good look around through the casket. All she could make out were the brown walls of a large chamber with a few torches plunged into the surface to provide the light.

Alena turned her attention to the rabidhounds and saw their silhouettes move ahead. She then heard a sort of clicking sound mixed with a seemingly human voice, though it sounded like gibberish. The rabidhounds sat down on their hunches, apparently waiting for something.

Within moments, Alena saw another silhouette enter the chamber. The princess could not make out a definite shape but it seemed taller. The strange clicking sound mixed with gibberish continued, as if talking with the rabidhounds.

Eventually it stopped and the large beasts made their way behind the casket, taking up flanking positions at the chamber’s entrance. Alena waited long moments, wondering what was going to happen next.

“Don’t be shy,” a human male’s voice said. His words sounded soothing and relaxing. “It is safe for you to come out. They will not harm you.” Alena was startled. The last thing she expected to hear anything like that.

She looked through the litter, wondering who had spoken. However, all she could see was the tall silhouette at the opposite end of the chamber. Was this the monster that had terrorized Tempe? Patro said it was somewhat humanoid but this thing sounded completely human. Whatever the case, though, she had a job to do and everyone in the village was counting on her to accomplish it. Straightening the revealing dress she wore, Alena took a deep breath and stood up, easily pushing the lid of the casket.

In front of her was not some sort of demon a few villagers had claimed terrorized them, acidic

saliva dripping from glistening fangs in a head that sported devilish horns. Nor was it some sort of humanoid creature, only retaining a few, basic features that all men and women held.

Rather, a young, handsome man stood in front of the princess. His long, sandy hair was neatly parted down the middle, a longer curl on the left side falling over his brow. His almond, blue eyes and sharp chin gave him the resemblance of a bird of prey. He wore a simple shirt, parted mid-way to reveal a broad, tanned chest.

“Greetings, my dear,” he said soothingly, giving her a charming smile. “I’d really appreciate it if you would join me.” He then stepped to the side, revealing another chamber luxuriously filled with satin curtains and large, soft pillows.

* * *

Cristo slashed at a low branch but his copper sword had a difficult time cleaving through the tough wood in one stroke. Grumbling, the bodyguard merely pushed it out of his way, forgetting it would whip back and probably hit Brey. However, the old tutor was now accustomed to his companion doing this and easily avoided the snapping branch.

Still, Brey was growing tired of dodging low branches and irritably said, “Why don’t you watch it time to time?” Cristo ignored him, concentrating solely on pushing through the forest.

“Cristo!” Brey forcibly said. “Did you hear me?” “Look, old man,” the bodyguard said without looking at him. “We have to hurry if we want to make it to the Princess in time, so I don’t want to waste time.” With that, he started to push forward even harder. Brey frowned, becoming irritated with Cristo’s behavior. It was not because he was rushing forward without any regard for his lagging companion but because of his motivation for his rushing. He did not have any faith in Alena’s capabilities and was trying to “come to her rescue” before she even had a chance to do anything. Even after their talk in the temple yesterday, the bodyguard still had doubts. Brey decided he was going to have to vanquish those doubts immediately or else they would impede the Princess later. “Cristo!” Brey said again, his voice incisive, “why do you have no faith?” The bodyguard stopped, startled. Without turning around, he muttered, “What did you say?” “No faith,” the old tutor repeated, stopping as well. “I asked why you have no faith.” Cristo turned around, his eyes narrow. “I have plenty of faith, old man,” he said acidly. “My faith in Zenithism has secured my place among the Zenithians.”

“Yet, you still lack faith,” Brey said. “Your head’s so high in the clouds you never see what’s going on here on the ground.” “What are you talking about?” Cristo snapped. “We’re wasting time here with you talking nonsense!” “What?” Brey asked, his voice raising. “What’s so important right now that we can’t have a little discussion on-” “Saving the Princess, damn it!” he nearly screamed. “She’s in terrible danger and you want-” “That’s where you have no faith!” interrupted the old tutor, his voice louder than normal in order to get the bodyguard’s attention. “Why is it you have no faith in her abilities as a fighter?” “Of course I do,” Cristo retorted immediately. “It’s just that...just that...” His voice began to falter, suddenly loosing his ability to argue. “Just what...?” Brey asked, raising a bushy eyebrow in curiosity. The bodyguard sighed, gently placing his sword back in its scabbard as he was finding it suddenly heavy in his hand. “Brey,” he said, his voice more calm, “for five years I trained for the opportunity to be Alena’s personal bodyguard. You know the lessons were tough. I saw you overseeing them as well. Somehow, I prevailed over the rest of the applicants. And, as a result, I’ve been a part of her life for the last ten years, making sure nothing ever happens to her that would put her in danger. For more than half my life, that is all I’ve ever known how to do, to protect her.”

He paused, thinking carefully about what he was going to say next. Should I let him know? he wondered. Can I really admit something to him that I can’t even admit to myself?

“Brey,” Cristo said after a heavy sigh. “I...care very deeply about the Princess and it would devastate me if I lost her.” The old tutor slightly nodded, as if expecting the answer. “I understand how you feel,” he said, causing the bodyguard to look at him slightly startled. “Just as the Princess is the granddaughter I never had, she must be the sister you never had.”

Cristo nodded, his eyes wide with relief. Brey had misinterpreted his proclamation and his forbidden feelings would thankfully remain hidden.

“But, Cristo,” he continued, taking a seat on a moss-covered stump. “There is so much spirit in that young woman, it’s unbelievable. You weren’t there when she let that spirit go wild. In fact you haven’t really seen much of what she’s capable of, merely the after effects.”

He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. “You merely saw the wall after she’d destroyed it,” he said, “so I guess it would more difficult for you to comprehend this. But, Cristo, I saw her demolish it. A stone wall turned to rubble by her own strength.

“And if I still had doubts after that, they were immediately vanquished when I saw what she had

done in Weser. I watched her mercilessly attack Flail, something hardly anyone in their right mind would do. Now, I realize she wasn’t in her right mind at that time but imagine, just imagine, the potential she has if she is able to do these things. There’s potential in her, Cristo, and, for that, I have faith in her. Do you understand?”

The bodyguard was silent but slowly nodded.

Brey sighed, then said, “I know it is hard for you to understand this since you haven’t seen much

of her potential firsthand. Sure, she’s killed kaskos hoppers but anyone can do that.” He paused again, giving an almost pleading look at Cristo. “All I ask is that you have a little faith in her, that’s all,” the old tutor continued. “She doesn’t need you to always protect her. She’s demonstrated that on numerous occasions.”

Again, the bodyguard remained silent. What Brey was asking of him really was a simple thing, yet he consistently had doubts attacking his mind. This would inevitably lead to Alena no longer requiring his protection.

Still, he should have enough faith in her she would never do such thing, that their friendship would always remain strong even if he was not needed to accompany her on diplomatic journeys to other countries. In the end, it all came down to faith, the same kind of trusting faith he placed on his religion.

“I...have faith in her,” Cristo finally said. Brey smiled. “I’m glad,” he said, standing up. “We’d better get a move on, then.” Cristo nodded and the two men began to make their way through the forest again, allowing several shadows slither behind them unnoticed.

* * *

“Care for some wine?” the handsome man asked, holding up a wineskin in front of a tray of jeweled goblets. Alena shook her head. The man shrugged but still poured the wine, obviously saving it for later in case she changed her mind. Alena shifted uncomfortably on the soft pillows covering the floor of the tiny chamber. She had heard of such places as this in Keeleon; the locals called them harems. Although she had never actually seen one, she heard enough about them to know what atmosphere the soft, satin pillows, exotic perfumes, and romantic wines were meant to provide. However, she was wise enough not to be caught up in it all.

Keeping her eyes off her handsome host was another matter, however. Never before had she seen someone so attractive and she had to catch herself from staring at his broad, exposed chest on several occasions.

And his eyes! They were like magnets to her own delicate orbs, drawing her into his seemingly

benign soul.

The handsome man grabbed one of the wine-filled goblets and sniffed it admiringly before taking a lengthy sip of its contents. Strolling over to Alena, he joined her on the pillows and lazily sprawled uncomfortably close. The princess wanted to move away but decided against it, guessing it would be better to stay close so, when she attacked, there would be complete surprise with no time for the man to react. Alena wondered why she had not yet drawn her dagger to quickly finish her task. After all, she had little doubt this was the man responsible for the tyranny over Tempe.

She found herself fascinated by the man, though, and not just by his features. There was something else, something mysterious about him, and Alena felt compelled to discover those secrets before she had to kill him.

Her host took another sip from his goblet, then asked, “So, what is your name?” He flashed her that charming smile at the end of the sentence.

“Alena,” she replied mechanically. She looked at him and asked, “And you?” “Durron,” he replied, still smiling. He brought a hand up and gently caressed the back of her head, causing Alena to involuntarily flinch. “How interesting,” he said admiringly. “Very few woman wear their hair so short.” “It...helps me think when I work,” Alena responded, feeling goose-bumps crawl along her skin at his touch. “Yes,” he muttered, “I see that you do work a fair amount. Your skin is quite muscled and tough. They must work you like a dog down in that village.”

He noticed the princess was sitting rigidly and said, “Relax. You’re my guest here.”

Alena felt a strange wave of nausea attack her but figured it was nothing more than nervousness. “You mean victim, don’t you,” she stated acidly. At that, Durron let out a horrendous laughter, echoing eerily off the chamber’s walls. “Is that what they think down there?” he laughed. “Well...” Alena started but she lost her words. Why did the villagers think that. This was obviously no monster but a normal man; albeit a normal man with perverted ideas but then they all had perverted ideas. The innkeeper in Weser was all the proof she needed. As if to prove her thoughts, Durron said, “All I ask is for a little entertainment and they automatically think I am some sort of demon.” “I still think that it’s awful what you’ve done to the village,” Alena muttered, looking away. “My dear,” he said, again caressing her short hair, “what I’ve done is nothing compared to the level of tyranny many kingdoms in the past have subjected their civilians to. Even this country, this noble Santeem, is famous for its inquisitions of the past.” The princess looked at him, startled. “How...how can you make such a claim?” she gasped. Durron smiled but it was a shrewd smile instead of his characteristic charming smile. “Because it’s the truth,” he replied evenly. Alena opened her mouth to argue but stopped herself, stunned to find she actually agreed with her host. Brey had taught her about such inquisitions, where her predecessors ruled Santeem with fear and tyranny. She was not proud of her heritage in that front but their outrageous actions would forever stain the Santeem line, including her.

Another wave of nausea hit, this time more intense and causing her to reel forward.

“What’s the matter, my dear,” Durron said, concern somehow finding a way into his otherwise audacious tone. “Nothing,” she muttered, holding a hand up to stop his obvious advance. “Just...tired, I guess.” She paused and looked back at him. He seemed to be very concerned for her well-being. Yet, this was the same man that supposedly held Tempe in a state of fear, who demanded a young woman every month, who sent the rabidhounds after anyone who defied him.

Why did none if it make sense?

“Well,” she finally said, “what are you waiting for?” The princess pulled a portion of her dress up, revealing her leg. It was a distasteful job but she had to make sure she seemed completely helpless and feminine, showing no hint of her goal. However, Alena did not have much experience in such matters and her movements were jerky and mechanical, causing Durron’s eyes to widen with surprise. He suddenly laughed again, this time deeper. Alena looked at him, confused. “You certainly are amusing,” he eventually managed to say, regaining his composure. He took another swing from the wine goblet, apparently finally emptying the contents.

He gently placed his hand on Alena’s and raised it, giving it a gentlemanly kiss. The princess looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise. “There is no need for that,” he said gently, flashing her his charming smile. “As I said, I am not a monster. All I wish is for a romantic evening with one of my lovely subjects.”

A dizzying sensation attacked Alena, her mind reeling in indecisiveness. Durron was sincere about his proposal; she could feel it in her heart. He must be very lonely man, living all the way out here in the woods. All he wants is someone to be with, someone to share his soul with.

However, thoughts of the village, thoughts of mutilated sheep, thoughts of vicious rabidhounds terrorizing the peasants, the same peasants that claimed this indulgent man was some sort of monster, caused her to reel in confusion, not knowing what she should do.

Durron, sensing her indecisiveness, leaned forward, tenderly placing his lips on hers. Alena’s eyes widened in shock but she did not back away.

Never before had anyone kissed her in such a manner. Her father had kissed her lovingly, Prince Reed of Bonmalmo had kissed her cheek in friendship as was his country’s custom, and many, many nobles had kissed her hand in devotion and admiration. However, no one had ever kissed her with heartfelt passion.

A strange feeling crept throughout her body, an elation that washed over like thick liquid. What more, Alena found that she enjoyed it! It could be so easy to be taken by this remarkable man, to let the ecstasy lovers experienced be hers for the taking. After all, he was not threatening her, merely giving to her something missing from her life, something she may have taken greedily if she had never left the castle. That was exactly the type of person she no longer wished to be, though, the reason she had ventured out into the real world in the first place. She wanted gain things on her own and not have them handed to her, to prove to herself she had the strength and will to resist such temptations.

A surge of adrenaline washed away her euphoria and Alena knew what she had to do.

Still receiving Durron’s tender kiss, the princess slowly reached behind her dress and pulled out the dagger that had remained concealed thus far. Without warning, she plunged it forth, aiming for the man’s heart. Had she known how to properly wield such a weapon, she may have found the mark. Durron yelped in shock, springing back. His hand unconsciously went to the side of his ribcage where a thin line of blood stained his parted shirt. His skin seemed to waver, turning almost scaly. It quickly passed, though, and Alena figured it was just her imagination, something brought on by her surge of adrenaline.

“Damn it!” cursed Durron, looking down at the minor injury to make sure it was not anything too severe. “Why did you do that?”

“I’m sorry to lead you on,” Alena said through clenched teeth, silently cursing herself for missing. She stood up, wiped her mouth to erase all traces of his kiss, and pointed the dagger at him. “I’ve come to kill you instead.” The princess expected a look of surprise, of horror that one of the villagers actually was going to take his life. However, Durron merely smiled. It was not his charming smile, though, but a wry, confident bending of his lips.

“Idiot,” he said, his voice no longer doting but malicious. “I gave you a chance to do this easily, to be gentle. But if you insist on doing this the hard way...”

Alena’s head suddenly felt like an impossible amount of weight landed on it, sending a sharp, piercing pain riveting through her mind. Her mouth opened to scream but she found nothing more than a strangled moan could escape. Dropping the dagger, she reached for her head with her hands. She tried to think, ascertain where the attack was coming from but, in her pain-filled state, thought was difficult. Despite the pain, she managed to open her eyes and focus on Durron. His smiling had turned into laughter. He’s laughing at me! she thought bitterly, some of the pain in her mind releasing its hold. Laughing at my weakness! Damn him! Damn him!

She did not know where or how it came but, somehow, her will broke free of Durron’s hold and the pain subsided.

However, her mind fazed, losing its focus and stability. She forgot all about the plan she and

Brey went over countless times. She forgot where she was or why she was even here. All she knew was Hun’s training, her tormentor in front, and a blood-red haze of hatred. She

became one with her instincts and knew what she had to do to seek revenge; she had to kill. Screaming in rage, Alena charged the man, soft, satin pillows flying out of her path.

Durron’s eyes widened in surprise but was quick to respond, easily dodging the rush. The man leaped to the other side of the room, an amazing bound given the length. “You have a strong will,” he grimly muttered, “but you are still overmatched.” “Shut up!” screamed Alena, hatred raging in her eyes. “You’ll die many times over before I’m through with you!” “I think not,” he smiled.

Alena started to charge the man again but she stopped in mid-rush, her eyes wide with shock. Durron’s skin and clothes started to shift and change, colors filtering in an incandescent array of spectrums. Before she even had a chance to figure out what he was doing, the colors of his skin evenly matched the pillows and curtains, blending perfectly with his surroundings. “Find me if you can,” she heard his voice echo from no where in particular and another blast hit her mind, causing the princess to double over in shock.

* * *

“It just goes on and on,” Cristo muttered. Although it was the first time saying this, the bodyguard had been spouting similar complaints for awhile now. “Cristo,” Brey said, his voice exasperated, “there is no need to state the obvious. We’ll get there when we get there. We’re fortunate enough those beasts left such a large trail in these…” His voice trailed off, pausing in mid-step.

“‘In these’ what?” Cristo asked, not noticing the old tutor stop. “Quiet,” Brey commanded, raising an arm. Cristo turned and saw him slightly crouching in the bush, the old tutor’s gaze steeled on something in the forest. The bodyguard looked to where he was focused on but saw nothing more than the trees and underbrush. “What is it?” he whispered, following Brey’s lead by crouching as well. The old tutor ignored him, his concentration trained on something else. Cristo looked at him for several moments, wondering what he was doing, until he saw his hands and mouth move ever so slightly.

A spear of ice formed and the old tutor threw his hands out, sending the cold projectile flying forward at seemingly nothing. It quickly disappeared but no sooner had it vanished when a yelp of pain could be heard echo throughout the forest; a yelp of pain from a rabidhound!

Cristo stared incredulously at Brey. “How did you know?” he managed to ask. “I didn’t,” the old tutor replied evenly. “I just had a feeling, that’s all. “It doesn’t solve our problem, though,” he continued, his voice turning grim. “I’m willing to bet the Santeem treasury it’s not alone.”

As if to prove his theory, a blood-curdling howl, followed by several more, echoed through the area. “I think we’re in trouble,” he remarked dryly.

The forest seemed to come alive with movement. From all directions, the underbrush rustled and shifted, slowly drawing closer to the two men. They cautiously moved back to back, watching the forest with nervous anticipation. Cristo raised his sword defensively and Brey brought his staff to bear. “You think you can cast a few of your ‘Upper’s on us?” the old tutor asked. Cristo nodded and prepared to cast the first one on Brey. At the same time, the old tutor mentally prepared ‘Icebolt’, knowing it would not be a good idea to exert his energy on casting it prematurely. Within moments, Brey felt his skin thicken, hardening as ‘Upper’ took effect. It was an odd feeling, as though his skin had started to grow goose-bumps only to continue growing beyond their normal size. No sooner had Cristo’s spell been completed when Brey had his thoughts interrupted by a sudden, snarling roar from beside him. “Brey!” Cristo’s warning came but the old tutor was already reacting, displaying remarkable agility for his age as he whipped around.

‘Icebolt’ was finished just as he turned, and the spear of ice formed at his hands. He did not even need to let the deadly weapon go, however, as a rabidhound had already leaped at the old tutor, plunging itself through as it landed solidly on him. The spear of ice was still under Brey’s control, however, and he let it go just as the rabidhound landed on him. The cold projectile burst through the back of the large beast in a spray of blood and gore before sailing further into the sky where it was lost from sight.

Brey collapsed underneath the dead rabidhound but his thickened skin absorbed most of the

impact. The weight of the large beast was enough to momentarily knock the wind from his chest, though.

Cristo was about to congratulate Brey on the minor victory when he heard another rabidhound emerge from the bush. The bodyguard spun around, seeing its eerie, red eyes eager for a kill. He brought his sword in front to parry the attack but the large beast was undaunted, continuing to charge forth as its only wish to rip the flesh from the man’s bones. Taking the only action he thought possible, Cristo swung his sword at the rabidhound, hoping it would run into his blade.

Fortunately, it did and caught Cristo’s sword directly on the nose. It yelped in pain, backing up as it pawed at its bleeding nostrils in some sort of futile attempt to stem the flow. The bodyguard, not pausing to thank his fortune, immediately dove forth, his sword extended.

The rabidhound noticed Cristo’s thrust, however, and easily dodged him to the side. The large beast snarled in vile contempt of its enemy, gray foam dripping mixing with its oozing blood.

The bodyguard had overstepped his thrust when the rabidhound dodged and the beast took advantage of the sprawling man, sending its foaming jaws lashing out at Cristo’s leg. The beast’s large teeth clamped down on his calf, sinking deeply into his flesh. The pain was so sharp the bodyguard could do nothing more than shriek out.

It was only for a moment, though, and Cristo spun his waist around, the rabidhound’s shaggy neck in full view. The bodyguard did not waste the opportunity and chopped the blade down, sending a spray of fur and blood into his face. The rabidhound did not let go, though, unrelenting as it savagely jerked its jaws on the bodyguard’s leg in an attempt to bring him down. Cristo, bearing the pain through clenched teeth, chopped again, and again, and again, knowing the pain would end once he finished the grisly task. Within seconds, the rabidhound’s jaws released their iron grip and it slumped to the ground, not even letting a whimper of pain escape its mouth. Cristo stood over his enemy, breathing heavily as he slowly let the satisfaction of the kill subside.

He brought a bloody hand up to his face to wipe some of the fur and blood from it. Just as he made contact, a spear of ice flew by his hand, followed by a yelp of pain. The cold projectile had narrowly missed his hand and the cold breeze it had created stung his skin.

Cristo blinked, hardly realized what had just occurred. He slowly turned his head to his left and

saw a rabidhound slumped on the forest’s ground, a four-foot long icicle between its eyes. The large beast had leaped at him without his knowing.

The bodyguard turned to his right to find Brey breathing heavily and leaning on his walking staff. “Handy spell,” Cristo remarked dryly, finally brushing the fur and blood from his face. “It is,” Brey said, his voice weary, “but not easy to cast so repeatedly.” Cristo walked over to his companion and asked, “Is that the last of them?” “No,” Brey muttered solemnly, shaking his head. He pointed to the bush and said, “Look.” In the shadows of the bushes, the bodyguard saw half a dozen red eyes glowing at them with a vile hatred as they slowly drew closer. “Damn it!” Cristo muttered through clenched teeth as he brought his sword up defensively. “Can we run?” “They’re...too fast for me,” Brey said between deep breathes. He stopped, his voice becoming deadly serious. “You go,” he said, stepping in front of the bodyguard. “I’ll draw their attention.” “Are you crazy?” Cristo exclaimed, looking incredulously at the old tutor. “They’ll slaughter you!” “Better me then you,” he muttered grimly, his mind already preparing another ‘Icebolt’ spell. “I’ve already lived a long life. You have much more to do, and-”

“Stop talking nonsense, old man,” Cristo sternly said, putting a hand on his shoulder to make him step back. Brey shot him a warning glare but the bodyguard ignored it. “I’m not about to desert a companion, no matter who he is.” Brey looked at Cristo, about to argue. However, the bodyguard merely smiled at him and the old man could not help but smile back. Damn fool! he thought bitterly, shaking his head. Brey turned back to the encroaching rabidhounds and dryly said, “Fine. We’ll go to Zenithia together.”

* * *

Alena groggily stood up, her mind still reeling from the last attack Durron had made. She did not know how much more of it she could take. Her will was strong but it took an abundant amount of it to drive back the pain it caused. She knew how she had escaped the initial attack, by reverting to the berserk frenzy she was prone to at times, but she could not use that to her advantage now.

She knew Durron was still in the room, otherwise the attacks would not be made. However, he had somehow blended in with the rest of room, cleverly eluding her grasp. She needed to be able to think clearly if she was going to be able to find him.

“What’s the matter,” his taunting voice came, again from seemingly nowhere in particular. “You seem to be losing your nerve. Can it be that you finally realize there is no hope for you, that you should just surrender your mind to me?” “Why can’t you fight fair?” she nearly screamed, searching the room for any hint of Durron’s whereabouts. “Fair?” he asked, sounding a little surprised. “What do you mean ‘fair’? Each of us have different ideas of what ‘fair’ is. Right now, I think this especially fair, don’t you?” “Shut up!” she screamed. “I’m tired of your stupid mind games.”

Alena thought she saw a flicker of movement to her left and she quickly dove on it, landing on a pile of soft pillows. She swore viciously, her choice of words very coarse given her social standing.

“Admirable,” Durron said, his words having no hint of sarcasm. “You truly are persistent, aren’t you.” “It’s one of my finer qualities,” Alena grunted, throwing the pillows out of her way with disgust.

Another wave of pain assaulted her mind and Alena gritted her teeth, putting her hands to her head in an attempt to stop the throbbing. She tried to focus her head, stamping out the attack with all of her will. She strained considerably, tears slowly finding their way out of her clenched eyes. After what seemed an eternity of the mental battle, the pain subsided and Alena breathed heavily, the strain leaving her body weak.

“I must admit,” Durron said, “no one has given me this much of a fight. Most would have given me their bodies long ago, their will reduced to nothing more than a quivering puddle of idiocy.” “Is that all you want?” Alena demanded, slowly regaining her stature. “Do you just want my body? Well, you can have it! Please just stop doing this to me!” Durron laughed. “It would be too easy,” he said. “I must have your soul if I am to claim your body. Neither of them go well without the other. I’ve tried it before.”

Alena spat on the pillows in disgust. “You really are a sick bastard,” she said, her words dripping with venom.

Durron did not respond, though, and her mind was assaulted again. She reeled back from the pain, collapsing in the pillows as she grabbed her head and moaned from the agony. I can’t let him win, she thought resolutely. I...just...can’t!

Her frustration began to amount, frustration at her inability to fight this. She knew Brey could

handle this situation with cold, efficient tactics. She knew Cristo could handle this situation, his faith in Zenithism so strong it would block any attack on his mind.

Surely she had some sort of ability like theirs to combat this. Why could she not do anything

about her situation then? Why?

The frustration was more than she could bear and the princess screamed out in rage, another wave of uncontrollable adrenaline crawling over her consciousness. However, she had no intention of using her rage to find her assailant. All she wanted to do was destroy anything in her path, her need to vent her frustration causing her to forget the situation.

The closest thing to her was a pillow and she grabbed it before tearing it to shreds, sending feathers spraying across the room. It felt great to destroy the pillow, and she wanted to destroy more. Finding the closest one, she proceeded to do just that, followed by another and another. The attack on her brain was all but a distant pain, her mind far removed from reality at this point.

Durron watched the princess with surprise, realizing her destructive force was random and she could at any moment stumble across his whereabouts. He tried to send another attack on her mind but, if she felt it, Alena did nothing to register it. Figuring he might be in a dangerous position should she stray near him, Durron decided it would be a better idea to retreat to the outer chamber and let his two pets guarding his home take care of her. Hastily, he made his way from his hiding spot and to the chamber’s entrance. Meanwhile, Alena was growing tired of ripping apart pillows and she knew the silk curtains would not provide any satisfaction. She needed something more.

Her eyes strayed to the chamber’s entrance, her mind thinking of wandering out there to find something else to ease her frustration. Through the dizzying flight of hundreds of soft feathers, she detected movement of a different source. She had no idea this was the originator of her frustration, however. All her instinct registered was it was something else to destroy.

Her eyes filled with loathing, the princess leaped at Durron, firmly grabbing hold of the man.

He gasped in panic as Alena grabbed a firm hold of his neck and his skin suddenly flashed in an array of multiple colors. He tried to attack her mind again, sending his strongest psionic blast. However, it proved useless, Alena’s mind so buried in a haze of rage that it barely registered as a dull pain she could easily ignore. He tried to squirm free of the princess’ hold but she had it locked in tightly, her self-defense training already an instinctive part of her berserk nature. Durron’s only hope was the rabidhounds outside. He called for them, his voice barely audible under Alena’s iron grip. Within seconds, the large beasts bounded in, their eyes glowing red and foam dripping from their eager jaws. They saw their master in trouble and would rip the flesh asunder from his assailant for harming him. They started to circle the princess, a low, guttural growl emitting from their large, shaggy chests as they looked for the best angle to attack without harming their master. Alena, however, did not register the rabidhounds as threats but merely something else to vent her frustration on. “Don’t worry, mutts,” she glowered, her eyes filled with hatred, “you’re next.”

At that, she firmly twisted Durron’s head, a sickening crack echoing throughout the small

chamber. It happened so fast he did not even have a chance to scream, his life ending in the princess’ clutches. She let him go and he fell limply onto the pillows.

Alena paid no attention to Durron as he fell from her grasp, already eagerly waiting for the rabidhounds to strike. However, instead of rushing her, the large beasts suddenly and violently jerked, their large jaws letting a mournful howl escape.

The princess watched them, suddenly curious by their actions. The rabidhounds continued to howl and started to paw and claw at the pillows underneath them before finally flopping down on their backs, breathing heavily with their tongues loosely hanging out of their mouths.

She did not daunt on the strange occurrence for long, though. Her mind was slowly regaining its composure, the rage subsiding for the time being. Unfortunately, Alena did not even have a strong recollection of her actions, a part of the reason she did not enjoy the frenzy. Having no control over what she was doing was the very reason she had run away in the first place, so she could be the master of her own destiny. However, if she could not even control herself, what was the point?

She decided it would be best to piece together what had happened, if anything to make sure it did not happen again. She remembered being under attack mentally and her frustration mounting because she could do nothing against it. Then, quite suddenly, she went on a rampage, destroying pillows and killing...

Alena stopped her thoughts, a sudden, horrible sensation creeping up her spine. Slowly, she turned around, wondering if she really had done it. Lying at her feet rested a strange creature, remotely human but looking more like a lizard with its scaly, green skin and reptilian head.

She gasped upon seeing the creature’s head; it was bent backwards, staring at her with horrible, wide-open eyes. Its mouth was open in a silent scream of death.

The princess backed up nervously, forgetting about the rabidhounds, forgetting about the pillows all around her, even forgetting her whereabouts altogether. She stumbled over a pillow and fell back, sprawling on her hands. She did not stop moving, though, still slowly backing away from the dead creature.

Not again! she thought, tears coming her eyes. Please! Not again! She did the only thing possible at that moment; the Princess of Santeem wept.

* * *

Cristo finished the rabidhound off, grimly retrieving his blade from the large beast’s eye. He watched it fall to the ground along side another rabidhound, this one having a large icicle deep in its chest. However, the bodyguard had little time to celebrate the victory. There were still more of them surrounding them, and Brey, having exerted the last of his strength casting one more ‘Icebolt’ spell, was in no condition to fight any longer. The old tutor was so weak he had to collapse to his knees behind him. Ignoring a grisly wound on his left arm, Cristo gritted his teeth and waited for the next assault. It did not come. Instead, he heard several mournful howls from all around them, the bush thrashing violently. Cristo looked around, wondering what was going on. “Brey...?” he asked, keeping an eye on the bush. The old tutor, having regained some strength, looked around and became just as confused as his companion. It lasted for a while, then suddenly subsided as if nothing had happened. Both men waited anxiously, neither daring to move.

A rabidhound wandered out from the bush and Cristo brought his sword up defensively, preparing

for its initial charge. However, the large beast seemed disorientated. It sniffed one of its fallen companions as though it had no idea what had just occurred, then looked at the two men, an indifferent expression on its face.

Aside from the strange, un-aggressive behavior the rabidhound displayed, Cristo and Brey both

noticed something else that was different; its eyes were no longer glowing red but showed a moist, liquid brown that was common among all canines.

The large beast continued to look at the two men for a few moments, then staggered off into the

bush, a faint rustle marking its path into the surrounding forest.

Cristo stared into the forest for a while, his eyes wide with shock. After a moment, he turned to Brey and asked, “What...just happened there?” The old tutor started to rub his white whiskers, still staring into the forest. “I had a feeling about that,” he muttered to himself, his voice still weary. “Those eyes were just too unnatural.” “What do you mean?” “I think they were under some sort of spell,” Brey explained, slowly standing up with Cristo’s help. “Under a spell?” the bodyguard repeated, his eyes wide with confusion. “By who?” “Again, I don’t really know,” Brey muttered, resting on his staff, “but, if my guess is right, then Alena’s succeeded.” “What?” Cristo exclaimed. “How do you know?” “I don’t,” Brey said, “but we should find out, hhmm?” Cristo nodded and helped the old tutor move through the forest again, the rabidhounds’ attack having left both men weary. The trail was not hard to pick up again as they left the grisly battle sight and, despite their condition, they found a clearing relatively quickly. The clearing gave way to the side of a hill, a steep, rocky incline dripping with moss and moisture. In the hillside, however, was the entrance to a cave. Both men entered it, Brey leaning on Cristo’s shoulder to support his weakened condition.

They had not gone far into the cave when they heard movement ahead. The bodyguard brought his sword in front defensively and Brey started to mentally prepare ‘Icebolt’ again, even if he did not have the current stamina to cast it.

A pair of rabidhounds lazily wandered out but they did not attack, regarding the two men

indifferently before sauntering out the cave’s entrance. Both men looked at each other but said nothing, realizing their good fortune when they saw these rabidhounds also had normal eyes.

They continued forth, eventually seeing torchlight ahead. No sooner had they seen torches on the wall that they entered a large, empty chamber. In the center of the chamber rested the litter Alena had been in. Cristo rushed towards it, searching its contents. However, the casket was bare. “Alena!” he yelled, his voice echoing eerily off the muddy walls. “Cristo,” Brey’s voice called out. “Over here.” The bodyguard turned and saw the old tutor by the entrance to another chamber, this one having a red curtain across the opening. He rushed over and parted the curtains before Brey had a chance to. He gasped when he saw what the chamber revealed.

Luxurious pillows lined the walls but many of them were torn now, feathers floating everywhere in any direction they pleased. Evidently, a great struggle had taken place here but who had emerged as the victor?

As he stepped in, the bodyguard nearly tripped over something sprawled on its stomach across the floor. He bent down to inspect it and sucked his breath in. It was humanoid but looked more like some sort of lizard with its green, scaly skin and reptilian head.

It was the head, though, that had made Cristo suck his breath in; it was facing to the ceiling, its

mouth wide open in a silent scream of torment.

Brey stepped in and saw the creature as well. Cristo looked up at the old tutor and asked if he had ever seen anything like it but Brey could only offer a shake of his head in response. “However,” he said, “I’m pretty sure this is what’s been terrorizing-” He was interrupted by a faint whimper. They quickly remembered why they had come here in the first place. “Princess?” both called out at the same time as they began to search the room.

Brey was the first to find her, half buried underneath shredded pillows. She was crying, her head buried in her knees as her back heaved up and down.

The old tutor frowned. He had seen this before, back in Weser when Alena’s sanity was in

jeopardy. Was it now going to happen all over again, perhaps this time permanently?

Cristo noticed them and rushed forward, anxious to help in any way he could. However, Brey held up a hand to stop him, knowing Alena could be very fragile in this state. Only he should approach her since he had helped her before. Cristo nodded and stepped back, careful as to not trip on any pillows or the dead creature. Brey knelt down beside the princess, careful not startle her. “Princess,” he gently said. “It’s me, Brey. Are you all right?” Alena’s whimpering subsided for the moment as she looked up at her tutor. She sniffled a bit, salty stains running down her cheeks. However, her eyes were not filled with confusion or disorientation as how Brey had thought. They were definitely filled with sorrow of some sort but there was also a glimmer of benevolence concealed beneath all the tears that obscured her eyes.

She smiled at her tutor, lightly uttering, “I did it. I killed it.”

Brey smiled and gently hugged her, letting the princess lean into his weary chest. You’re going to be all right, he thought happily. Just fine.

Epilogue News of the creature’s demise quickly spread through Tempe.

Lieb, who was first to greet the travelers, anxiously rushed out of the temple to the center of the village to inform the rest of the populace. If any of the peasants doubted his claim, the moment Alena strode into the center of the village carrying the carcass of Durron (or whatever its name was, since Brey doubted that was its real name) in the litter, every villager cried out in joy. They now knew their world would no longer be filled with fear and tyranny.

A celebration of their liberation commenced that evening and the travelers found it to be a pleasant time to join the peasants in their simple pleasures of song and dance. All three told their stories to the villagers, how each had fought with adversity and overcome it. Even Brey, despite his contempt behavior of peasants, found himself enjoying the evening. If anything, peasants knew how to have a good time in spite of their squalor surroundings. When the three travelers woke the next morning in Patro’s manor, they found the most amazing thing awaiting them. Outside, the villagers of Tempe had lined up at the lord’s home, each bearing gifts of gratitude. Most were nothing more than simple trinkets or fine wines that had been saved for special occasions.

Some were generous enough to provide fine clothing made of silk. How these villagers had gotten their hands on such luxurious clothing remained a mystery to the travelers.

Despite their showings of gratitude, Alena made it clear they could not accept these gifts. A few

persistently tried to get the three travelers to take them but most understood, thanked them, and went on their way.

The only thing the wayfarers needed were traveling supplies and the grocer, whom had re-opened his store, graciously gave them more than they needed at an unselfish price. He had wanted to give the supplies out for free but Brey made it clear that they would pay with the money they earned back at Surene, even if the old tutor had to nearly bang the grocer over the head with his walking staff to get the point across. Later that same day, the three travelers prepared to leave. Patro asked them whether they had anything to worry from the rabidhounds and Brey assured him the village would be safe. Apparently, the large, shaggy beasts had been under some sort of spell by Durron, which put him in total control of them. With him dead, the rabidhounds were free from the spell and would probably wonder around the hills in confusion for a while before settling into their own packs, becoming nothing more dangerous than a common wolf. The lord of Tempe was satisfied with the old tutor’s claim. Once they were ready to leave, a parting ceremony was held with every villager gathering at the temple to see them off. Alena shook their hands, Cristo blessed them from the Master, and Brey merely nodded to them, acknowledging their thanks but still keeping his distance between the peasants.

As they passed through the temple, Alena was surprised to find Frank and Nina waiting for them with Lieb. She told her companions she would catch up to them, giving her a chance to say good-bye to the two peasants she had met.

Nina hugged the princess warmly, happily crying into her chest. Alena embraced her back,

wishing her and Frank best wishes with their newfound freedom. Frank gave her a parting gift, telling the princess she was not to open until she was well on their

road at the other side. Alena nodded and lightly kissed his dirty cheek out of thanks, causing the young man to considerably blush. Nina giggled at his embarrassment and waved good-bye as Alena ran to catch up to her companions.

After a final wave good-bye to Tempe, the three travelers turned to the Old Merchant Road and continued their journey into the Wild Lands of Santeem.

Here ends Part 1: Awareness, but Alena’s adventures continue in Part 2: Alteration, where she and her companions must brave the Wild Lands of

Santeem, only to find tragedy waiting for them at the end.