1. Castle’s Resident Mage

Arkurius was, as always, leaned against my wall, staring out my window. He was a good boy, but he had terrible issues with his parents, I had noticed… His father was a busy man, he said I don’t know how many times. His mother was busy, too. She mourned a soldier day and night in the graveyard Arkurius watched always. She mourned him and he didn’t know why.

“Who was that guy?” Arkurius muttered.

I continued to crush the gryphon bones which my current project called for. Without looking up I answered, “His name was Archer. He was your grandfather’s right hand man.”

“I mean who was he to her…”

“I don’t know,” I answered.

“She’s always out there,” Arkurius went on. “Always she sits at his grave, Driahda. And who was he? Some dead soldier? She doesn’t even speak to my father at all. Maybe mumbles a few words to him now and then, when he can get her back inside…”

I continued readying my ingredients quietly. Arkurius’ father, King Sabore, did care much for Queen Rhodon. I had never actually seen the Queen, not up close… She never came to my room… Often I could hear her beyond my door speaking to Pike, the Castle’s Resident Warrior. The two had travelled together, I’d come to understand. I’d also come to understand that when Rhodon showed up at the castle she was already pregnant with Arkurius. I had suspicions about this, but did not say a thing about it to Arkurius. I suppose if the prince asked then I would have told him that the dead soldier was very likely his true father. He didn’t ask, so I didn’t say.

They more or less dumped Arkurius on me when he was a child. Rhodon was consumed by grief and Sabore was consumed by plans for war. They left the boy with me and, even after he was old enough to take care of himself, he continued to hang around me always, despite the times when my inherited insanity gripped me and I would attack him, tearing open his arms or neck.

He was about seventeen now, it seemed to me, but I did have a poor ability to keep track of time, spending all day in a room brewing potions as I was. His hair and fur were a dark red colour, both, and his hooves were a deep green. Arkurius was born with a sort of magic ability to create roses and bind beasts from hell itself to them. It ran in the bloodline of his mother, I believe, though magic ability in centaurs is practically unheard of.

I myself came from an extremely magical bloodline. All human beings in the Zylxian realm had their root in the meeting of a god and a nymph. Few, however, had their root in the meeting of the great god Kurok and a nymph, for only one time did he lay with a woman. My own bloodline came from a son and a daughter of Kurok. It was a very pure bloodline of powerful and cunning mages, but there were prices for such power. Down as far in the bloodline as I was, I was plagued by mental haziness and an inability to properly manipulate the elements.

“What’re you making?” Arkurius asked turning from the window to look at me.

“Poison,” I answered.

“You say that about every potion you make,” the centaurian Prince responded reaching out to take a jar of black fluid from a shelf.

“Don’t touch that!” I snapped and he withdrew his hand.

“Sorry,” he said.

“It’s a blood thinner,” I said.

“Oh,” he said and looked around at the room blankly. I did too, mostly out of the habit of doing so. The door creaked and opened and I stared at it.

The warrior, Pike, was there, staring at me uneasily with his dark eyes. He was a strange man, with round ears and tanned skin. His hair was black… or brown maybe. I had trouble telling for sure. His teeth were straight and small, not like the sharp teeth of all other humans, myself included. He kept his nails trimmed down and insisted upon wearing clothing—a light breast plate and chain mail, usually, were upon him. He was a quiet, brooding man with sad, weary eyes and an unfriendly air. One of Pike hands was missing—lost to a poisoned arrow—and had been replaced by the shadow Guard with a hand made of blood. At his hip the man kept always a sword that lore called the Devil’s Blade. He approached now, in his usual armour with his sword.

“Driahda,” he said in a quiet tone. “The King wishes to speak with—“

“Stop!” I yelled and pointed at his feet. “Where did those boots come from?”

“I’ve had these for years,” he responded flatly.

“Where?!?”

“Guardian Dokkdan gave them to me when I stayed with him…”

“Take them off before you enter my room,” I said glaring coldly at the Unworlder.

“What? Why?”

“Vampire leather corrupts the brewing love potions,” Arkurius answered for me and pointed to the love potion I had been preparing yesterday which now was sitting, settling, in a dark corner.

Pike gave the prince and I a flat look from the doorway and said, “Prince Arkurius, the King wishes to speak to you. And Driahda, as well.”

I returned to crushing my gryphon bone and Arkurius returned to staring out the window. The warrior stood in the doorway for a couple of minutes before growling irately, “Now.”

Arkurius turned his equine body and trotted towards the door, casting one last glance at the window. He motioned for me to come too, but I don’t remember standing… my mind became hazy and when the fog pulled away Pike had me pinned against one of the walls in the hallway, my arms forced behind my back.

“You can let him go now,” Arkurius said looking into my eyes. “His mind has returned to him…”

Pike let go and I rubbed my sore ribs. I looked around and asked him, “Where are we going? I need to get the ingredients ready for my blood thinner…”

“The King wants to talk to you,” Pike said. I stared at him, counting the scars on his flesh… There were so many little ones. Faint lines that were easily over looked. I wondered only briefly where they had come from. He was a fighter and all fighters have scars… Some were proud of theirs and some were ashamed, but what of this man? This creature, possessing of an identity, whom crossed on accident from his world to mine. He had come from the Unworld into Zylx and refused to be as we Zylxian humans were—dogs to this world.

We were, a blurry second it seemed to me, soon in the room of King Sabore. He smiled as we entered, taking off his crown to run a hand through his orange hair. He was young, Sabore, only in his thirties. His father, Sythe, had been in his thirties as well when he died and Sabore took the throne. Sabore was of a frail build, uncommonly thin for a centaur. He replaced the crown upon his head and said, “Thank you Pike… Er, Pike, you’re bleeding…”

Indeed, the Unworlder had a gash on his forearm. He cast a sideways glare at me and grumbled, “The mage had another one of his psychotic episodes again…”

“Ah,” Sabore said he looked at me. “You’re such a good hand at brewing potions, Driahda. I don’t understand why you can’t brew something that’ll stop your random bouts of homicidal insanity…”

“Insanity is the price paid for great blood,” I said and licked some blood out from under my nails, not sure where it came from but not bothered terribly by it.

“Indeed,” Sabore said and smiled. “Well, then, I suppose I’ll get to my point while Driahda’s mind is clear.”

He turned to Arkurius now and was speaking to him alone it seemed, though it seemed as well the King’s intention that I should listen. Sabore said, “Your mother Rhodon, as you know, had a bit of falling out with her father, the King of the rival kingdom of Zyrx, shortly before I took her for my bride.”

“Yes,” Arkurius said. “Why was that?”

Sabore shifted uncomfortably, hesitant to answer. I believed I could answer this question—it was because Rhodon had become pregnant by a Zylxian soldier, that dead man Archer. Pike could answer as well, I noted as he stared indifferently at the royal pair of centaurs. Neither of us cared to say a thing. Finally Sabore said, “It was because she loved Zylx.”

“Oh,” the prince answered. The reason was close enough to true, Sabore must have thought.

“Anyway, things have gotten extremely… hostile between our kingdoms these last seventeen years,” Sabore said and cast a vacant glance out his window. “Something needs to be done. I have arranged a… a meeting between our kingdoms. A diplomatic sort of reasoning. The Zyrxian King Teblorhn has agreed to meet with a representative of Zylx in his court. I would go myself, but there are other matters to which I must attend. That’s why I have decided that you will go, my son, to speak with Teblorhn.”

Arkurius’ eyes widened. “Me, father? But, I’ve barely even left the castle! I can’t go to a different kingdom…!”

“You won’t be alone, Arkurius,” Sabore said and clapped a hand onto Pike’s shoulder. “I’m sending Pike here with you, as well as Driahda, here, whom I know you look up to so much.”

Arkurius seemed still to hesitate greatly. He said, “I don’t know… A hostile kingdom with just two humans to guide me…”

“If you’d like, I’ll send a soldier with you, too…” he paused for a moment in thought before continuing. “There is a general who would enjoy going with you, I think. General Laerikeht. You know of him, I believe. He’s a good man, a good soldier. How about that? Would you feel brave then?”

Arkurius thought for a moment and then answered, “Yes. I’ll not let you down, Father.”

Sabore smiled, “That’s a good boy. Now why don’t you go get ready. You’ll have to march south to Myrashekk before you start off. You’ll start out tomorrow morning.”

The centaurian Prince nodded and started out of the room. I followed him and Pike followed me. Sabore said, “Er, Pike, wait just a moment. I would like to speak with you alone…”

Pike turned towards the King and I exited the room, not thinking about it even a bit.

---

The sky was blue. Blue like water or blood… water or blood… Out side I could hear the hooves of passer-by. Inside I could hear the breathing of my brother. He was curled up next to me, asleep as well. I nudged him with my small elbow and he bit me. I bit him back and he clawed me across the face with his long nails. We began to fight viciously until one of the mage breeders pulled us apart.

‘Stop that!’ she hissed. ‘Brikahda! Driahda! Stop fighting!’

She sighed and pushed some loose hair back behind her hair before casting us a disapproving look. She said, ‘Look at you both. Covered in blood and scratches now… And the king’s coming to pick out a mage. You’re both going to be here forever, I swear, the way you act. Driahda, don’t bite your brother.’

‘He started it,’ I said and pointed to a nasty bite mark on my own neck which was beginning to redden and swell.

‘You started it, actually,’ Brikahda answered and wiped some blood off his mouth. ‘You nudged me.’

‘I don’t care. Driahda, don’t bite your brother,’ the breeder said.

‘But—‘

The breeder smacked me across the face. She said, ‘Don’t argue with superior races, Mage! Now try to look presentable. The king is coming soon…’

With that she trotted off to the front room of the store to await the king’s arrival, locking the door behind her. I rubbed some of my wounds and looked out the barred window at the blood-blue sky. Brikahda curled up beside me and fell back to sleep. Five years in this room. Every day staring at that barred window since I had been born…

‘Good King Scimitar, hello!’ I heard the breeder call from the other room.

A deep voiced centaur answered, ‘Good afternoon. I’ve been told that you’re possessing of some mages from the bloodline of Lord Kurok himself?’

‘Yes, we are,’ she answered and trotted over to the door, unlocking it. ‘Two pure—nothing else at all in their line—and three with mixtures of Kurok, Sobrik and Vishnitt blood.’

She entered, followed by a large built centaur in a golden crown and purple robe. He was old with white hair and a beard, but his eyes were still sharp and young. He said looking around at the young sleeping mages, ‘Why don’t you show me the pure ones first.’

‘Certainly,’ the breeder answered, but she grimaced, no doubt, at how un-presentable we were. Regardless, she showed King Scimitar over to my brother and I. She nudged Brikahda with her hoof and he sat sleepily up, staring at her with resentful eyes. She said and pointed to him, ‘This is Brikahda. He’s an excellent element manipulator, especially with lesser elements like electricity and water.’

Scimitar looked him over then he pointed to me, ‘What about the one with the purple hair?’

‘That’s Driahda,’ the breeder said and looked at me with an unfounded sort of loathing. She said, ‘He’s really a wreak at element manipulation, but he’s got good potion skills…’

Scimitar considered a moment before he said, ‘I’ll have both of them, then.’

‘Both?’ she asked.

Scimitar nodded and picked me up. I squirmed and bit his wrist but he only laughed. ‘This one looks to be pretty scrappy, huh? He’ll be resident mage. As for the other one, I have a fortress in need of protecting and I believe he could do that. So, yes, both.'

He gave her the money and then took me to the castle with him. My brother he sent away with a solider. Scimitar took me to the castle and brought me to a plain stone room with a single window, shelves lining the walls and a large cabinet.

‘This is your room,’ the king said. ‘You’ll make your potions here, boy. Any thing you need for them, we’ll get.’

‘Thank you,’ I said. He smiled and rubbed my head before trotting off, closing the door behind him. But, unlike the breeder always had done, he didn’t lock it.

---

I came out of the haze of memory and could see the moon shining through my window, turning the glass jars and the dulled daggers on table silver. I licked my fingernails and could taste dried blood beneath them. Where had it come from?

With a sigh I stood and put my works away. I set my ingredients aside on the crates and shelves that filled my room. With another look around the dark stone room I opened up my cabinet and climbed in to curl up and go to sleep.

In the morning I found myself standing outside the castle, my hands bound tightly across my chest. Arkurius stood beside me and beside him stood Pike and another centaur. The new centaur looked to be in his late thirties; obviously a man of the army, based upon his armour and mail and his belts full of daggers. He was a muscular creature with feathery brown hair and black fur. He trotted along side Pike as we crossed the draw bridge. Arkurius glanced at me and, noting the sharpness of my eyes, smiled and said, “You back, Driahda?”

“I was gone…?”

“Your mental clarity, I mean.”

“Oh, yes, fine,” I answered him and looked down at the leather straps that bound my hands across me. “What’re these?”

“General Laerikeht said he’d feel safer if you were bound, after you attacked him,” Arkurius said.

“Did I attack him?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Arkurius said. “But it’s okay. You didn’t hurt each other or anything. He grabbed your hands and held on until the violence slipped away from you.”

“That’s good,” I said and continued to walk. I looked at the older centaur. “Is this Laerikeht, then?”

Arkurius nodded and the General glanced at me and grinned good-naturedly. He said, “I’m General Laerikeht of the Royal Zylxian army. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mage Driahda.”

I stared at him and he continued to smile. After a minute he turned his head forward again. We were passing through the town around the castle—Bribarrah, it was called—and soon we reached the wall. We passed through the gate and out onto the road beyond. I asked, “Where are we going?”

“Myrashekk,” Pike answered in a quiet and brooding tone.

“Where is that?” Arkurius asked.

Pike shrugged. He said, “To Hell if I know. I’m not even from here. I’m from Colorado…”

“Colorado…?”

“Myrashekk is in the Koa Kurok,” Laerikeht said. “It’s on the south eastern coast. We’re going to take a ship from there to Zyrx.”

“…why?” I asked.

“I have to speak to King Teblorhn,” Arkurius said.

“I see…”

We continued silently along down the path, into the forest. Arkurius and Laerikeht walked side by side, their hooves leaving semicircle prints in the side of the dusty earth, and I walked beside them, my feet making barely a mark on the ground. Pike lagged behind us, his face clouded by trouble and indecision. I stared at him, but he didn’t notice. His mind was far away, in a dark, dark place.

---

We marched along the tree lined path, the sun slanting daggers which stabbed through the canopy of leaves above us. It was the first time I ever had seen trees… I curled up on the path and fell asleep. Arkurius nudged me with his hoof. I looked up at him sleepily. He said, “We don’t have time to stop now, Driahda…”

I closed my eyes and tried to return to sleep when the cold, gauntleted hands of the General grabbed me by the ribs and lifted me up onto Arkurius’ back.

“You can carry him, right Prince Arkurius? He weighs barely a thing…”

“Yes,” Arkurius said. “We have a bit of trouble getting him to eat…”

“Strange how such pure blood corrupts,” Laerikeht noted. “Insanity… no elemental control… What is he good for?”

“He’s extremely good with potions,” Arkurius said and after a moment added, “He’s really smart, too, when he can think straight…”

Soon the bouncing of the Prince’s back while he walked and thumping sounds of his and Laerikeht’s walking put me into a sleep filled with the nightmarish ghouls and terrible fiends which were, always, lurking in my skull. It was many hours before I awoke and when I did the others were asleep, camped out in a tree surrounded clearing.

I lay beside Arkurius and wondered why my arms were bound across my chest. I chewed at the leather straps which kept them close and soon was able to free myself. Stretching my arms I looked around at the Prince, the General and the Warrior. Pike’s pack lay beside him, a highly ornate dagger poking out of it. I crawled over to him and pulled it out a bit, to study some words carved in Zylxian on the dagger’s hilt. They said ‘Do what you must’.

I frowned at the words and suddenly the Unworld Warrior stirred. His dark eyes looked at me hazily and suddenly his eyes got wide. He sat up and snatched the dagger from me. He growled, a bit panicked it seemed to me, “Don’t go through my stuff!”

I stared at him as he shoved the dagger back in his pack, concealing it completely. He glared at me and I continued only to stare blankly at him. He said as he pulled his pack close to himself and laid back down, “Go back to sleep, Mage.”

I blinked and then crawled back to Arkurius’ side, deciding it was not my place to question such strange behaviour. I curled up beside the Prince and let sleep wash the memory from my mind with its blackness.