Prince-Jarshir

The Prince of Jar’Shir

“The pylons are failing, my lord. We, as a kingdom, cannot stand the full force of the
sorcerer.” The man stood a bit taller as if to state the importance of the report.

The king waved his hand, dismissing him. “We shouldn’t dwell on matters that don’t
concern us,” he told the noble. Bowing, the scrawny man exited the hall of his ruler.

Weeping willows crowded the courtyard of the castle. Every now and then, a warble
came out from one of them; a robin calling for a mate. A patch of rich green grass ran in a circle
around a central, bubbling fountain. About ten yards to the east were the guard’s barracks.
Above that, towering above all else, was a magnificent tower. Mirroring the east wing, the west
wing also had a tower springing from its stone foundation. Between the two wings was the
main entrance to the massive fortress. It was a beautiful sight; one that few got to see. The
courtyard was enclosed by the stone walls, unseeable by the townspeople. King Edward
preferred to keep it that way.

It was spring time in Jar’Shir, but the air felt still and cold; a sense of tension was in the
air. The Queen had yet to deliver the first heir to the throne though she was very close. The
king was at her side every step of the way. Childbirth was very dangerous. So many things could
go wrong and no one could do anything but hope for the best. And no one was hoping as much
as the King. Sara meant the world to him; his kingdom did not.

King Edward rubbed his chin as he pondered the situation. This sorcerer everyone
feared was just a simple illusionist. Surely he could do no harm to such a protected kingdom!
However, the noble was right about one thing. Stationed in the west wing of the castle, 20
priests prayed everyday to keep the power of the protective stone pylons surrounding their
kingdom alive. Lately, however, the power they conjured had been waning. To add to this,
monsters had begun to roam Jar’shir. For now, it was nothing the militia couldn’t handle. He
had more important things to think about. In a few hours, he had to speak with a man about
allegiance terms.

The man ran as fast as possible. When he got to the King’s quarters, the guards stopped
him. “What is your business here?” one of them asked in a heavy English accent.

“I have urgent news for the king brought from the nursery.”

The guards exchanged looks, came to an agreement, and escorted the man into
the main chamber. The King was consulting with a noble from a neighboring kingdom.
When the man came in, they both stared harshly at him.

“Well,” The king said with importance. “This better be quick.”

“The Queen…” the man said, still breathing hard from the run. “The Queen…
has, uh,” He was finding it hard to discover the right words. “The Queen is dead,” he
finally said bluntly. “And you have a son!”

Tears welled up in Edward’s eyes. Quickly excusing the noble from their
conversation, he flew from the room and made his way to the nursery. A baby boy
named Rowan waited for his father.

Chapter 2:

Sixteen years had passed since the Queen had died, and the kingdom’s state had only
gotten worse. The protective pylons around the perimeter were nearly useless, and the
monsters were getting out of control. Rumor was that there was some kind of portal in a far off
land that was spewing these monstrosities out. However, many of the townspeople believed
this only to be speculation. The people of Jar’shir were not gullible; not even the king thought
this to be true.

The king sat on his throne and plucked a single grey hair from his head. He was getting old.
“Ivan,” he demanded. “I need you to investigate the weakening power of the priests. It’s high
time we found out.”

Ivan nodded and bowed, his white hair flowing in front of his face for a moment, only to
be flicked away. “Yes, my lord,” he muttered as he left the castle.

Ivan stepped outside and inhaled the oddly cold spring air. Making his way across the
courtyard to the west wing of the castle, he pondered his life so far. Born in a faraway land
known as Marina Castor, he was poverty stricken. However, he still dreamed of greatness. He
kept himself in great shape and studied government constantly. He had always wanted to be an
adventurer.

When he was 20, he heard of the dead of the King’s last assistant. Travelling to Jar’shir,
he would do anything for the job. Luckily, there wasn’t much competition and he was hired. His
duties included doing whatever the king needed to be done without question, taking care of
“problems,” and travelling stealthily to deliver messages to neighboring kingdoms. However,
the job wasn’t everything he thought it would be. At first, the payment seemed more than
enough because, where he was from, any amount was large. As the years went on, he realized
how the King was taking advantage of him. Since it was a job for life, he would have to put up
with it.

Ivan pushed open the heavy, wooden door that was the entrance to the west wing and
made his way to the priest’s quarters. Religious pictures donned the walls of the rectangular
stone room. No furnishings: just how they liked it. He climbed the spiral stairs in the corner and
came to the next level. This was where the Priests of Jar’shir resided. “Hello, King’s assassin,”
said a voice out of nowhere. “We’ve been expecting you.”

The only thing Rowan had to remember his mother by was a silver pendent; he never
took it off. He sat in his room as he usually did. His father seldom let him leave his room, let
alone the castle. Today he decided that was all going to change. He wanted to show his father
he had great potential.

Sneaking out of his room, he made his way down the spiral staircase to the lower half of
the castle. Nodding to the guards, he walked quickly to the library. He was going to find out
where all the evil, the evil his father ignored, was coming from.

Chapter 3:

Prince Rowan slowly breathed in and out. This was the book he had been searching for.
Looking both ways, he confirmed he was alone. Myths and stories of distant lands By Ieroleth
Jackson. Skimming through the pages, he found something that caught his eye. He carefully
read the passage scribbled in dark ink.

Two casualties, a test of determination

Placed to keep the meek away

Find a fire-breather, make it disappear

They will show the way.

Lava place, evil place

This is what you were seeking

You are alone.

Rowan pondered this verse for quite some time before carefully placing the script back
on its shelf. What did it mean? For some reason, he knew deep down that it was about his
destiny. His mind racing, he quickly left the library, heading for the courtyard. The only thing he
recognized was the “two casualties.” A test of willpower, every boy made their way through
them in order to become a man. Just outside the Kingdom of Jar’Shir, the first one was a
sprawling forest. He didn’t know why, but somehow he just had to pass through them.

He had never been outside the safe confines of Jar’Shir, although he had wanted to for
quite some time. King Edward had cooped him up for far too long. He yearned for adventure,
and the only thing standing in his way was his father. Too long he had been controlled by him.
He made up his mind then and there; he was running away.

Hurrying to the guards’ barracks, he discovered what he needed. He was going to
disguise himself as a guard in order to get past the others. However, there was one thing
standing in his way. Napping at the main table in the center of the room sat the general. Silently
making his way to the armory, he hugged the wall. Rowan was known for being sneaky; able to
blend in and go unnoticed. It was odd for such a high-ranking official to be sleeping in the

middle of the day; he had a lot to take care of. However, Rowan didn’t think about it too hard.
He had a mission.

Sneaking around the perimeter of the room, he discovered the armory. He had hidden
many times in the expansive room as a child, so he knew it well. Turning the handle, he found
that it was locked! It looked like he would need the General after all.

Crawling silently, he inched up to the massive man. Dangling from the satchel around his
waist was an assortment of keys for almost every room in the castle. For a second, Rowan was
tempted to keep the keys and unlock secret rooms that were always locked. There had to be
something important in them, or else they wouldn’t be constantly locked. Shaking the
mischievous thought from his mind, he slowly slipped the keychain off the belt. His nerves got
the best of him as his hand suddenly jerked and the keys went clattering to the floor. The man
jostled in his sleep and shook his head. “What’re you doin’ here, Prince?”

Chapter 4:

Ivan looked around, startled. “Uh, the king has sent me…” He said uncertainly to no one
in particular.

The voice came again. “Yes, we have been expecting you.” A man stepped out of the air
to stand in front of Ivan. He was draped in a white cloth engraved with mysterious symbols.
Deep wrinkles were etched into his worn face. “We fear what you fear.” The old man
continued, “Something has been slowing us down, something powerful.”

“Whatever it is, it has to be stopped at all costs in order to protect the kingdom.” Ivan
said as he shifted his stance, uneasy that he was talking to a man that had just stepped out of
thin air.

The old man’s eyes suddenly changed expression, only to go back to normal just as
quickly. “But believe me it’s all under control,” the priest said in a reassuring tone. “Everything
is going to be all right.”

Confused, Ivan nodded knowingly. He had completed his task. He turned to say
goodbye, but the man had vanished. With 100 thoughts racing through his head, he hurried
back to the king.

When he returned, he found the king in distress. “Now where has Rowan got around to
now?” He muttered to himself while Ivan approached him and bowed elegantly. “Yes?” The
King said as he finally acknowledged Ivan’s presence.

Ivan spoke carefully. “The priests say they are taking care of the problem.”
“Very well then.” The king didn’t like dawdling on one affair for too long, and was
content with the unsatisfying answer. “I have another task for you anyway. Rowan has escaped
me again, I fear.”

Ivan was getting tired of this. One, he was tired of the Prince running off. Two, he was
tired of doing monotonous chores for the king. He nodded and awaited further instructions.
However, he didn’t get any. “My Lord?”

The king looked up with sad eyes. “You must go find him and bring him back, I don’t
know what I’d do if I lost him too. However, he cannot know who you are or that you are
following him.”

Ivan was confused. “May I ask why I must go unnoticed?” He inquired.

The king looked irritated. “Are you questioning me?” Ivan realized it was not in his place
to ask questions. Bowing, he apologized and left, his shawl billowing out behind him. Ivan was
sworn to secrecy. He was forbidden to let the Prince know of his existence. For all the sixteen
years of Rowan’s life, Ivan stayed out of his way.

That proved to be an easy task. Ever since the prince was born, the king had sheltered
him. Following the Queen’s death, the King was afraid to let the Prince do anything. Instead,
Rowan lived a lonely, boring life up in his room and in the castle.

Ivan bowed again and set off with a new objective. First, he was going to the gate to the
city to ask about any suspicious looking people. Someone had to have information.

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“Why’re you pokin’ round ‘ere anyway?” the officer grumbled groggily.

Rowan stared up in horror at the tired, bulky man staring him in the face. “Why were
you sleeping on the job?”

At this, the man shifted in his seat, keeping his eyes on Rowan at all times. “Come to
think of it, I don’ know. Alls I remember is a weird-looking man barging into the barracks, and
after that everything goes black…”

“Well,” Rowan said, “If you tell anyone I came here, I’ll let my father know of your little
snooze, and you’ll be fired indefinitely.”

The man looked confused for a second and then gave in. “I guess you ‘ave a point...”

Rowan hurried to the armory and chose one of the smaller designs. With the Jar’shir
crest embedded on the shoulder blades of the shining silver breastplate, he looked very regal.
For extra measure, he grabbed a lance from a shelf near him. Marching out of the room, he
saluted the General. As he paraded out of the room, he flipped the face mask only after he saw
the burly man yawn and doze back off to sleep.

Chapter 5:

Rowan quickly rushed to the front gates and saluted the guard stationed there.

“To where are you headed and of what importance?”

Rowan made sure to disguise his voice and keep his face hidden. “I am sent from the
king, and it is of no importance to you,” he said with authority.

Disgruntled, but used to the response, the guard let him through. This was quite the
experience for the young prince. Going from the paved, smooth surfaces of his home to the
rough terrain of the outside world was quite a transition. Wielding his lance with awkward,
untrained hands, he strode forward into the unknown land.

With his back to the castle, he made his way down the roughly hewn dirt path that
travelers used. If he were to go through the Two Casualties, this was the path to take. He
figured it to be about a week until he came across the first one: a forest riddled with traps.

He walked for about two hours before he heard a strange scuttling sound. Thinking it to
be his imagination, he ignored it for a while. However, when it got louder, he whipped around
and readied his weapon.

A large juvenile scorpion sat just ten feet behind him. Startled, it struck before he had a
chance to parry its attack. The large, poisonous stinger barely missed his heart and glanced off
his hand. Pain immediately shot through his entire body. Shouting out in pain, he fell to the
ground, paralyzed as his vision faded.

Just as quickly as the pain came, however, it went. Was he dead? Not daring to move,
he looked around as his vision slowly returned. His hand felt like it was on fire. How had the
scorpion not struck the final blow? He flipped over only to find a twitching carcass laying only
five feet to his right. Someone had killed the beast! Ready to fight for his life for the second
time in ten seconds, he slowly got up and examined his surroundings.

A hooded figure stood only ten feet away from him, sheathing his sword after carefully
cleaning it. Once Rowan saw him, he readied his lance and waited for the man to make a move.
Putting his hands up in the air, however, the man made the symbol for peace.

“I have come to protect you,” he said with a strange accent. “You need immediate care
for that wound. Those are some poisonous scorpions roaming around the castle.”

Rowan cringed in pain and grasped his hand. “Well then, if you must,” Rowan didn’t
have much of a choice.

The man rushed over and dabbed a peculiar ointment on his wound. Rowan didn’t know
he could be in more pain until now. Indescribable pain surged through his entire arm, turning it
bright red. Suddenly, the pain subsided and all that was left was a scar. Looking up, Rowan
thanked the unusual man. However, he had vanished into thin air. Wrapping his stiff hand in a
cloth, he continued on his way, thinking seriously.

Chapter 6:

The hot Jar’Shirian sun blazed on his back. Inhaling deeply into his lungs, he prepared
himself for the journey ahead. His voyage would take him through a sprawling forest, a massive
cave system and an endless ocean. Pulling his pendant out of his pocket and clicking it open, he
examined his mother’s smiling face. He was doing it for her.

As his trek continued, his hand hurt more and more. If this kept up, he would be in
excruciating pain by the end. Pushing the grim idea to the back of his mind, he focused on the
task at hand. He traveled for 3 days and 2 nights, walking by day and camping by night. He
found himself to be a natural at survival. He had only brought the necessities with him, yet he
was doing very well. However, he had to sleep with one eye open. Strange monsters prowled
about the plains. He had to constantly be on guard. However, he luckily hadn’t had another
encounter since the scorpion incident.

Five days later, he woke up with a start. Something was wrong. Tonight he had camped
on a small knoll, many days from his home. The morning sun greeted the tips of the trees and
he got up, lance already in hand. Several small rodents scurried around his campsite, trying to
find food. Sighing with relief, he shooed them away and prepared to go back to sleep. However,
something was still wrong. The ground under his feet was quivering slightly, like a mini-
earthquake. Gathering his gear quickly, he abandoned his tent and searched the radius of the
site.

No sooner had he left his tent than the shaking increased in magnitude and a massive
worm-like creature pushed its way through the ground with immense force. Three jaw-like
protrusions came from the tip of the creature, with liquid seeping from the tips. Its body was a
blackish-brown and covered with protective scales. It made a deafening sound and turned his
way. He had no chance of defeating this creature. Without a second thought, he ran.

Behind him, he could hear the monster slam horizontally into his tent, crushing
everything inside. He was lucky to have been ambushed by the rummaging pests earlier. If it
weren’t for them, he would have been in the same state as his tent. But then was not the time
to reminisce; it was a time to run. Flying down the hillside, he made his way across the plains.
Something peeked out in the edge of his sight as he fled. Instead of the occasional tree like he
was used to, he could make out a wall of shrubbery. Was this the fabled forest he was seeking?

He kept up his pace until he reached the edge of the massive forest. Panting heavily, he
looked at his surroundings. He was hopelessly vulnerable with the open expanse at his back.
The only thing to do now was to enter the booby-trapped, monster-infested forest. With one
last look at the rubble he had run from, he stepped into the unknown.

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Following the prince closely, Ivan stayed in the shadows. He had already gotten into
trouble twice, and Ivan had to save him once. Truthfully, he didn’t sense the giant sand wyrm
that tried to kill Rowan. Luckily, the boy had somehow escaped his tent before anything could
happen. How had he known? Was there more to this boy than he thought? Thinking hard, he
sharpened his blade and cautiously followed him into the dense forest.

Chapter 7:

Rowan could tell he was being followed. With eyes in the back of his head, he made his
way through the dense brush. Everything was green, from the mushy ground to the top of the
trees. Little sunlight sneaked through the thick tree cover. It felt more like a jungle or rainforest
than anything else.

Following a roughly hewn path through the foliage that others like him had taken in the
past, he trudged on. Every now and then, he caught a glimpse of something moving in the many
shadows. Was it his imagination? He assumed the one following him was the same one that
met him outside the castle.

He adjusted his backpack and took out a piece of Dawik bread. More like a biscuit, it was
the best thing to eat when travelling. While he was snacking, he noticed a peculiar thing.
Something silver glittered beautifully in the ground cover. Moving closer, he realized it was a
silver gem of some sort. He reached in to grab it, but something caught his arm before he could.
Jumping with surprise, he followed the gloved hand to its body. There stood the same hooded
figure that approached him before. With one finger to his mouth, the strange man backed them
both up, picked up a stone and heaved it at the gem. As soon as it came in contact with it, the
ground exploded in a three foot radius as a hidden net sprang up to envelop the rock.

“That could’ve been you, foolish boy,” the lanky man said earnestly. Ivan knew how
imprudent the prince could be at times. He took after his father, no doubt. Ivan had been
strictly instructed to remain unknown to the prince, but at what cost? It was only a matter of
time before Rowan got himself into a sticky situation while Ivan was busy trying to remain
unnoticed. He made the decision then and there to, finally, after so many years, introduce
himself to the boy.

“I am Ivan, a trained assassin sent by your father to get you back. However, I’ve decided
instead to aid you in your journey. By revealing myself to you, I am placing a bounty on my
head. I was never supposed to let you know who I was, but I don’t think it even matters. What
does matter is that you are safe,” he said painfully. “Besides, I can train you to use that a bit
better,” he said as he pointed to the steel lance Rowan was awkwardly held.

Rowan didn’t know what to say. “How do I know I can even trust you?” he countered
with authority.

“Well, for one thing, I saved your life,” Ivan responded. “Secondly, I have this.” He
reached deep into his robes and pulled out the royal emblem of Jar’shir.

Rowan looked at his own crest on the back of his pendant and sighed. Why did his
father think he needed a body guard? And why did he have to lie to him about it? Giving up, he
put out his hand, and Ivan shook it.

“Well,” Ivan said as he looked into the thick brush. “Now that we’re finally acquainted,
let’s get through this wretched forest. It gives me the creeps.”

Over the next few days, Ivan taught Rowan the basics of sword fighting. Ditching the
lance, he gave him a beautifully smelted adamantine scimitar. Swishing and flicking, Rowan
quickly learned how to efficiently defend himself. Rowan found Ivan’s company strangely
welcoming, and he was an excellent sword master. The prince often found himself wondering
what the man’s background was, but something about him made Rowan think twice about
asking.

Many more days passed as they slowly trudged through the jungle. On the sixth day,
they stumbled upon an oddly circular clearing. The ground here was different than the ground
in the rest of the forest; it looked more travelled and odd- looking symbols criss-crossed the
dirt. Rowan felt uneasy. Whipping around to ask Ivan for advice, he discovered he was utterly
alone. He cautiously gripped his scimitar with clammy hands.

Out of nowhere, an odd drum thudded. Starting quietly, it progressed to an almost
deafening sound in a mesmerizing rhythmic pattern. Bars in the circumference of the circular
clearing shot up out of the dirt as a 40-foot ring encased the stunned prince.

“Wh-Who are you?” Rowan managed to squeak out. As an answer, a small creature
stepped out of the thick brush and grinned maliciously showing misshapen teeth. It was a light
hue of red, almost human-like in stature. This must be an imp. Rowan had read about them in
ancient folklore. Born in volcanos, they are extremely mischievous and will do anything to leave
you in as much pain as possible. However, with his newfound skills, only one should be
manageable.

As if knowing his thoughts, the ugly creature took in a lungful of air and screeched out
the worst sound he had ever heard. Staggering back and clenching his ears tightly, he caught
sight of multitudes of the things pouring out of the thick brush. Slightly dazed, he rose and
faced about 20 of the red devils. Without warning, they charged.

Reacting mostly on instinct and a little skill, he dodged the first one, its jaws gnashing
and teeth bared. Everything after that was a blur. Hacking and slashing, he made his way slowly
through the ranks of imps. One jumped higher than he expected, and it grazed dangerously
close to his neck. Dodging and parrying, he sliced upward as it fell to the ground.

Somehow, they just kept pouring at him. Strength in numbers was too true. Making one
false swing left him completely vulnerable. Sensing this, ten more jumped at him, dog piling on
his back. Struggling to move, he tried to brush aside the scratching and biting beasts. Through
the chaos, he saw one of the imps, bigger and much burlier than the rest, unsheathe a crude
iron sword and head his way. It was over; he had lost. This was where his journey would end.

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Chapter 8:

Ivan struggled against the net. How had he fallen for this simple trap? He must be
getting old. Cutting the odd ropes with the knife he kept in his boot, he finally dropped to the
forest floor. Had the boy forgotten about him? Putting his ear to the ground, he went into a
meditative state as he tried to locate the boy. To the left, he could barely detect a low rumble
in the ground; a battle. Sliding the knife back into his boot, he ran faster than he ever had
towards the sound.

When he finally reached the battle sounds, he entered a wide clearing. Surrounded in a
ring of bars, a large red mass struggled with the floundering prince.

“Rowan! Are you under there?” he shouted.

Suddenly, a bright blue pulse of light flashed from the pile as the creatures flew apart
with incredible force. Struggling back to his feet, Rowan looked at his hands in wonder.

“I didn’t know I could do that…” was all that he could manage to say.

Ivan was flabbergasted. The boy had received no magical training, yet he had just pulled
off one of the most complicated spells without even trying. There was definitely more to the
boy than met the eye. With the monsters defeated, the bars slid back slowly into their
respective holes. Ivan rushed over to heal Rowans scratches and bruises. The boy was beat up,
but not too badly.

Looking down, they realized that one imp remained. Readying their weapons, they
prepared for another fight. However, the abnormally large imp put up its hands in defeat.

“You have passed the test,” the thing said in a scratchy voice. “I shall show you the way
out.”

It swept its hands in a circular motion, and a red light flew from his hands. A dim light
wound through the forest in an abnormal path. Sighing, they sheathed their weapons and
followed the odd path out of the forest. They had gotten through the first casualty.

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Back in the castle, things were hectic. The king refused to tell the townspeople where
his son had gone, and they were worried that they wouldn’t have an heir to the throne. The
king became restless. Where was Ivan? He should be back with his son by now. Edward was
sure that Rowan was defenseless and following a blind cause. No one knew what the sorcerer’s
power was; what if he was just a conjurer of cheap tricks?

He spent more and more time on his throne contemplating what could have happened
to his son. Word spread that the king was going mad. The people saw less and less of him, and
nothing was getting done. The water was brown and muddy, the food stale. Rats invaded from
the sewers and plagued the city. Townsfolk were forced to move to neighboring cities as their

homes weren’t safe for them anymore. The once prosperous city of Jar’shir was falling to dust,
and the king didn’t care.

Chapter 9:

“There!” Rowan shouted. The unrelenting trees cleared after they followed the red path
to freedom. Stepping out into sand, they were surprised. Immediately, a vast Ocean opened up
before them.

“The second casualty,” Ivan grumbled, “Half way there.”

100 feet to their left, a boat dock stood waiting. To their surprise, a man waited, holding
the ropes. Hurrying over, they greeted him with suspicion.

“I have been waiting for a long time,” the old, unkempt man uttered. “One way trip to
the Dragon Spires.”

Rowan looked at the man’s wrinkly, worn face and saw truth etched in it. Thanking him
and adding a gold coin to his collections, they carefully boarded the well-crafted boat.

The boat required no wind to open its sails. Without guidance, it took off and turned
towards the Northeast.

“Don’t forget, the dragons will lead you wherever you desire. Just give them what they
desire in return,” the man shouted out happily.

The two sailed for a week in almost complete silence. Something about the Sea makes
people think hard. Rowan pondered how his father was dealing with his absence; he would get
upset if Rowan simply left his room, what would he do if he left altogether? Ivan thought about
the likely bounty on his head, and how he was committed to the Prince now. Was it the right
decision? Could the monsters plaguing the land really be stopped by a boy and an old man?
Nothing was clear. The only thing that was clear was their destination: The Dragon Spires.

Finally, after nine days of tedious sailing, they caught the first glimpses of the structures.
Giant pillars of brown stone surged out of the water hundreds of feet into the air. On each one
sat a lone dragon, peering cautiously at the boat. The vessel had no trouble navigating the maze
of columns. Out of the thick fog rose a central island, bare and craggy. This is where the boat
stopped.

They were a couple of feet away from the shoreline, so Rowan jumped out and pulled
the craft to shore. Stepping onto the unfamiliar grey sand, they surveyed the area. The island
was small enough they could barely see the other side. Scraggly bushes dotted the brownish
landscape. As soon as Ivan left the boat, it promptly turned around and sailed away of its own
accord.

“Well,” Rowan muttered, “There goes our ride.”

In the center of the island two of the fabled beasts grazed on the scarce grass. Carefully
approaching the dragons, they kept their distance. These two seemed like the calmest of them
all. Suddenly, their heads shot up and their ears flew back. Not daring to move, the intruders’
hearts leapt to their throats. The larger of the two dragons let out a sound much like a dog
whine crossed with a cricket chirp. As soon as it did, a hundred more dragons flew in from the
ocean and the spires surrounding the island. Quickly flocking into a large mass, an immense
dragon stepped out of the crowd to address the travelers.

It sniffed Rowan thoroughly, its large nostrils flaring as it did so. Sticking out a shaking
hand, Rowan slowly patted its head. It let out a chirrup and laid its head down so the prince
could continue.

“I guess they like head rubs,” Rowan said quietly, shrugging his shoulders.

Gaining confidence, Ivan boldly stepped out to claim a dragon. A sleek green one
separated out from the crowd and bared its teeth. Flaring a fireball into the ground by Ivan’s
feet, it proved to be much less docile than the prince’s choice.

“Do I have to pick this one?” Ivan said in a shaky voice.

“Well, it approached you, didn’t it?” Rowan replied as he continued scratching his new
companion.

Ivan closed his eyes and a blue ball of energy enveloped his hand. “If it needs a strong
hand, I am more than happy.”

Pitching the ball, it shot out of Ivan’s hand and struck the creature square in the face.
Staggering back, it whined and submitted.

“Well, now what?” Ivan asked to no one in particular.

“These must be the “fire breathers” the book talked about back in the castle,” Rowan
murmured. “We must fly them into X’s domain.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Ivan told him. “But exactly how do we do that?”

Rowan jumped onto the back of the massive creature. “We ride.”

He didn’t know how he knew, but he just did. Willing the dragon to do what he wanted,
he concentrated fully on a gigantic pool of lava, and what he imagined X to look like.
Shuddering, the dragon refused to teleport to that destination. Trying again, he thought
happier thoughts. He thought about home, his family, and their noble cause. The dragon
seemed to understand. Thinking about X once again, the dragon understood and tensed up. An
odd smoke enveloped the pair, clouding out his view. Suddenly, the air got warmed and a
prickling sensation darted across Rowan’s skin. The smoke cleared to reveal a massive lake of
lava. He was here.

In no time, Ivan caught up with him on his own dragon. The beasts did not want to
dawdle in the evil place. Shifting from one side to the other, they couldn’t keep still. After
recovering from the disorienting experience, Ivan and Rowan examined their surroundings.
They were in some sort of cave, lit by the lava lakes. The stone was a reddish brown. Yellowish
glowing stone also illuminated the enormous cavern. The pungent odor of sulfur assaulted their
noses. Across the lava lake, Rowan could barely make out some sort of damaged bridge.

Ivan noticed it too. “We should go investigate on our dragons,” Ivan said casually.

Turning around, they found that the fire-breathers had vanished. Apparently, they
couldn’t stand to stay for long. All that was left was two massive sets of claw-prints in the
reddish dirt. How were they supposed to get back now?

Chapter 10:

Back at the castle, things had only gotten worse. King Edward, once a proud ruler of a
kingdom and an esteemed fighter, had locked himself in the throne room and refused to let
anyone in. Rumors abounded throughout the town that he had gone completely mad. He had
recently instructed all of the soldiers guarding the city walls to search for Rowan. He also raised
taxes exponentially to fund the hunt. The entirety of Jar’shir’s income was redirected to finding
the prince. Since he couldn’t get in contact with Ivan, he had to assume that either Ivan had
done something with the prince, or they had both perished. Hoping for the former, he blamed
Ivan for it all. If anyone found him, they were instructed to bring him to the king, dead or alive.

One frustrated citizen named Fredrick Luke decided enough was enough. Fredrick’s
situation was one of the worse in Jar’shir. He used to live in a nice two story house with a loft
for his animals. Now, being taxed for all he was worth, he lived on the streets. He was forced to
sell his cattle for a petty penny. Gathering a group of people in the same situation as he, they
marched to the castle with pitchforks and torches. Yelling and knocking on the doors, the band
of people protested the entire day until the king could stand it no longer.

Coming out of his room for the first time in weeks, guards escorted him to the front
gates.

“What do you want?” he demanded. “I have important work to do.”

“More important than taking care of your land?” one of the citizens shouted out.

Irritated, the king barked, “The prince is the only heir to the throne. What should
happen if he never comes back?”

“You’d probably just lock him in his room for eternity anyways. The boy deserves
freedom!”

“If I don’t keep him close, I might lose him,” The king responded.

At this, a woman stepped out of the mob and looked at the king square in the eyes. She
was built like a warrior. Six foot three of temper, her intimidating nature was well known
around the town.

She pointed a strange mechanical device at her ruler. “I think we should get rid of him.
What good’s a king if he hides in his castle and doesn’t tend to his people? Our homes are
falling apart, he’s taxing our clothes off, and the food supply is running out. I say we end this
once and for all!”

At this, she clicked the trigger on the device.

The crowd gasped in astonishment. None of them had meant for this to happen. They
simply wanted to get the king back in his own mind. This woman, however, took matters in to
her own hands.

Landing in an awkward position, blood seeped into the king’s handsome, tailored
overcoat. The guards, protecting their king, rushed to his aid. How had they let this happen?
Everything spiraled out of control since the prince left. It seemed as though he was the only
thing holding his father together. All it took was Rowan running away to send the king into
shock. They supposed that the man had it coming to him. But now was not the time to look
with hindsight. Two guards rushed their king into the medical ward in the castle while another
two opened the gates to arrest the deranged woman. However, she had vanished. No one
could report watching her run away. It was as If she had never been there at all.

Nothing could be done for Edward by the time they had carried him into the hospital.
Multiple organs bled inside his frame. Shrapnel dotted his chest. He had lost too much blood to
recover. They set him down on one of the nice, white, fluffy beds and gave him some healing
herbs to ease the pain.

“I want to see my son,” the king spoke softly. He had started to cry. “I need to speak
with Rowan.”

“Sir, he’s run away. I’m afraid that is impossible.”

“Before I die, it’s imperative that he sees this.” Edward said as he reached deep into his
blood-soaked robes and pulled out a tattered piece of parchment. “It is of the upmost
importance.”

The guards bowed and accepted the paper, not daring to open it. With one last bow,
they left the king with the doctors tending to his wounds.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It is done,” the woman muffled as she set the gun on the oak table. “The man is dead.
What about my reward?”

A man shrouded in a black cloak flicked his hand in a peculiar motion. “We did not agree
on a “Reward,”” the magician answered. His voice cut cleanly through the air, like a knife
through hot butter.

“Oh, don’t you pull that card on me,” the large lady said harshly. “You might be a fancy
illusionist, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take the money off your corpse. You said that if I killed
the bloke, I would be rewarded with unimaginable wealth!”

At this, the dangerous man stood up and approached the woman. “I will do what I need
to do to take control of this kingdom. Thank you for your service.”

With a wave of his hand, a slimy wisp of smoke flew from his hand and clasped around
her throat, pulling tight.

“I am X, your new king!” he yelled as he stepped through the portal and teleported,
leaving the woman to die. “Now, if you excuse me, I’ve got an army to gather.”

Chapter 11:

Rowan stepped to the edge of the steep cliff and looked into the vast lake of boiling
death. Ivan scouted the area for a way across. He couldn’t turn back now. After all he went
though, after all that he had accomplished, he couldn’t throw it all away. The task was
impossible, however. How were they supposed to get across with no dragons or bridges? They
had only been there for a couple hours, and he was already overheated. Whatever they ended
up doing, they would have to do it quick.

Ivan finally got back from his scouting. “Nothing. However, I might have one idea.”

Rowan stopped pondering and listened intently to his companion.

Ivan continued. “You see, magic is all about creating vibrations through space and time.
If you make the right vibrations at the right time, you can make almost anything possible. This is
how magicians such as I can make objects appear seemingly out of thin air. However, this is
mostly done on a small scale. Your abilities greatly surpass mine, and I imagine you could
conjure something much larger.”

Rowan knew what he was getting at. “So, if you and I combine powers, we could make a
bridge out of thin air? That’s impossible!”

“On the contrary, it’s quite possible. You just have to concentrate and believe,” recited
Ivan.

Holding hands, the both of them closed their eyes and imagined the scene in front of
them. They thought of the red dirt, the glowing yellowish stone above their heads, and of the

immense castle looming out of the lava. They imagined the lava raising up out of the ocean to
connect with the ledge they were standing on. In their minds, it stretched out all the way to the
lair.

Opening their eyes, a massive structure stood where they imagined it. Exactly how they
imagined it, a black stone bridge loomed ahead of them. Exhausted, the pair walked carefully
across.

“Careful, we don’t have much time until this disappears. And when that happens,
there’s a good chance it will suck all the energy out of you.” Ivan said simply.

Rowan was impressed with what he had done. His father had never once had him
tutored in the ways of magic. Who knew he had so much potential? He was discovering more
and more about himself with each passing second. When they reached the castle, everything
was deathly silent. Entering the large stone doors, they stepped in quietly.

There he was, back towards them both and staring into a large crystal ball. They knew
he was X from the first glance. The odd clothing, the awkward stance, and the ball of light
floating by his side were the only things they could make out about him. Pressing his finger to
his lips, Ivan instructed Rowan to keep silent and hide. X seemed to be communicating with
someone.

“I need the troops. I am ready to deploy the plan.” X said in a sinister voice.

At that, he spun around as a greenish light enveloped his hands. “Now, who wants to
die first?”

Rowan exchanged fear-filled glances with Ivan as they made an unspoken decision.
Jumping up, Ivan summoned his own energy around his hands as Rowan whipped out his sword
and charged at the man. X deftly dodged Rowan’s slashes and sent a barrage of fire at Ivan.
Suddenly, Rowan’s silver pendant stung his neck. Not daring to look, he kept his eyes on the evil
man as he continued the attack.

Ivan pointed at the chandelier hanging above X’s head and gestured downwards.
Suddenly, it came unhinged and dropped with immense force. Barely avoiding it, X sent out a
flurry of icicles from his hands. One clocked Ivan deep into his left shin. Wincing with pain, he
lost concentration and grasped it.

Seeing Ivan in pain, Rowan fought the urge to rescue him. X was already turning around
to face him. The pendant grew too hot to ignore. Ripping it off of his chest, he and X both
gasped. Surrounded fiery red, and the picture of his mother inside it was glowing intensely. Not
knowing what to do, he dropped the silver necklace on the ground.

“What kind of sorcery is this?” X yelled as blue smoke spewed out of the picture.
Remembering he was fighting to the death, the evil sorcerer took out his spare sword. He soon
tired, the magic draining his energy.

Charging at the boy, they sparred with great strength. The boy was a surprisingly good
fighter. He had the technique of an experienced swordsman, yet X doubted he had even picked
up a weapon since the last month. This was going to be harder than he thought.

Rowan dodged and parried, attacking at every window of opportunity. Sword fighting
was like a second nature to him. He didn’t even have to think about it that hard. He noticed
that X was getting weaker and weaker, and saw more and more opportunities to attack.
However, he wasn’t expecting what was about to happen next.

X dropped to the ground and swept Rowan off his feet with a puff of air from his palms.
While Rowan was struggling to get up, he ran over and put the boy and wrenched the boy in an
armlock. Of course, it had to be the arm with the injured hand. Screaming in agony, the prince
dropped his sword.

“Now I see how you managed to evade all my traps; the scorpion, the wyrm, or the
imps. But now I finally have you, and I’m going to kill you once and for all.” X proclaimed
menacingly.

At this point, the pendant vibrated violently and turned a violent, purple color. It
abruptly flew into the air and flew straight for X. He never had a chance. Hitting him squarely in
the back of the neck, it knocked him out instantly. Rowan was amazed and confused. Was it his
mom controlling the pendant from another dimension? Rowan knew that people didn’t really
die; they get teleported to an alternate plane of existence to start a new life as a baby.
Somehow, his mother had kept her mind and spirit long enough to keep track of him through
the pendant. All that was left of the trinket was a pile of ashes. “I love you mom,” He
whispered.

Ivan limped over to the boy. “Well done! I wasn’t expecting that last move. Did you do
that with your magic?”

“Uh, yeah…” Rowan replied, not wanting to give away his secret.

“Let’s get out of here,” Ivan said hastily. “This place is giving me the creeps.”

Upon quick inspection of the various rooms of the castle, they discovered the way out. A
square of solid obsidian stood in the center of one room. A purple window rested in the center
of the obsidian, framed by the black rock. From one side, they could see the other side of the
room. Walking around the back, they noticed that it wasn’t what it should be. Through the
purple sheet, they saw an abandoned wing of the castle; their castle, back in Jar’shir.

“Can you destroy this?” Rowan asked Ivan. Though this was the way back, and they
needed to be sure no one could follow them, especially the “army” that was marching here at
this moment to siege the castle.

“I can try, but we’ll have to be quick.”

Rowan stepped through the purple portal and felt his stomach lurch. This was a similar
feeling to the one he got when teleporting with the dragons. Fighting to keep the contents of
his stomach down, he slowly stood up and found him in the attic of the east wing. Ivan shortly
followed.

“Get out of here, quickly,” Ivan told Rowan hurriedly. “I’ve laid a mine on the other side.
We have 30 seconds.”

Flying down the ladder in the corner of the abandoned room, they found themselves in
the guard barracks. A muffled thud rumbled upstairs, and they knew the portal was closed.
Sighing with relief, they ran out of the wing and into the castle itself.

They were greeted with silence. No welcoming party, no crowd anxiously awaiting their
return, just an empty castle. Finally, they found a guard stationed outside the hospital ward.

“Prince Rowan!” exclaimed the tired man. “You’ve returned!” His voice changed tones
as he realized the sad news he had to share with the prince.

Rowan seemed to understand the look in the man’s eyes and flew into the room. There
was a white fluffy bed in the middle of the room with a frail man lying in it. Nurses and
medicine specialists darted around. Some of them were crying. Rowan ran to the bedside and
stared at his father’s dead figure.

“You just missed him, I’m afraid,” one of the nurses mumbled, holding back more tears.
She handed him a note that said one word, “King” in Edward’s handwriting.

Rowan’s heart broke. At the same time, however, he felt a deep resentment towards
Edward. This was the man that had practically locked him in his room for most of his life. This
was the man that had concealed him from the world. But he was also his father. Rowan kneeled
at the bedside crying, and only left after the sun went down hours later.

The houses were deserted and most of the people of Jar’shir had moved away to
neighboring kingdoms. The king had been so intent in finding Rowan that he had completely
neglected the land he ruled.

Rowan would pick up the pieces. He would rebuild, restore, and nurture the town back
to its former glory. He would be a much better king than his father ever had been. And along
with Ivan, he would proudly bear and honor the title of the king of Jar’shir.