Shadow of the Dark One

Chapter Two - Behind the Veil

Sano kept himself prim and courtly like they'd taught him. He scanned a mirror for anything out of place and adjusted the fluffy, ruffled collar he'd worn so often. A bowtie fit nicely, something quite ornate for one barely a teenager. The Princess would be down from her room in a moment and he knew not to keep her waiting.

Pushing a bottle-top downward, he stepped through the faint aroma of lavender and roses before it floated away. It’d always been a favorite, reminding him of the garden during spring before the leaves stopped growing and everything fell into decay. He rather missed those long sessions by himself in the courtyard watching the birds, the bees, and the hovering butterflies.

Gray, stone walls held crusted terraces laced with beeswax candles, flavoring the air in honey and now, his sweet lavender and roses. He picked up a freshly-cut red rose from his desk and held it rather appreciatively in front of another mirror, admiring a dew-drop where it caressed a red petal and slowly drifted, spiraling down upon its own minuscule weight. A bell over the door pricked a brass tone, startling him, but expected.

“Yes, come in.”

“It is her highness, the Princess Monica, here to accompany you.” said a man’s voice.

“I’d be so obliged to accompany her anywhere.” said the boy, scanning the mirror again. He raised a long glass rod, held it above his head and spun it downward in a flash of glittering light. The braced door opened from the outside, the wind faintly flickering the candles on either wall. The misty aromas became entwined with that of a courtly young Princess.

With an armored guard behind her, the Princess Monica wore shoulder-length blonde hair curled at the tips, and a pink and rose-colored evening gown worthy of salutations. The blond-haired Sano bowed to her when she curtseyed and the two joined arms in leaving the room. A hand-maiden rushed in behind them to douse the candles in brass.

“They say this is the last time,” said Sano, pulling the Princess's hand to his lips in greeting.

“I promise after tonight,” she exhaled, “there’s no-one else to show. If Father plans anything, I’ll be the one to have a say in it.” She turned to mind her own footsteps down the hall, skipping to some fathomless beat with his hand in hers. Prince Sano dredged along, catching himself out of time to her rhythmic tapping.

“I hope you’re right. The kingdom has come so far, I’d hate to...”

Another armored guard turned the corner to escort the couple. This one had always been distant with the Prince, almost always ruining some of his best moments. Mind your duties, Prince, he'd always said. He instantly frowned and released her hand.

Downstairs in the dining quarters, many a merry man stood recalling old stories, never once stopping to listen to one another. A man donned in a tri-colored skirt and colorful feathers on his shirt, as well as head, stepped before the young couple, lending a hand to the Princess’s final steps ascending the stairwell. The music stopped, as well as the righteous banter. Everyone stood.

“Welcoming Princess Monica and Prince Sano.” said the colorful muse, Rictor Patrias. He was still, forever and always, a trusted Counsel-man to the King. The Counsel waved a hand, lowered his shoulder and bowed before the two and once more before the conglomeration.

“Please, gentleman.” said the Princess, smiling to draw attention from the shy Prince. “Continue.” His eyes stayed with hers and the rest of the room took notice.

After having seated Princess Monica in a chair at the main table, a horn sounded, pulling everyone from their seats once more. The only noise in the room became the scourge of wood scrubbing stone. Princess Monica tapped her wine glass thrice then thrice again with a tiny, silver spoon.

“Attention." she curtsied. "We are pleased to introduce the King and Queen of Chiato, Jacove and Belisa, my precious Father and Mother.” She rang the glass again in quadruples, thrice each.

As King Jacove and his Queen entered the room, his gaudy, golden armor warranted notice of some of the delicately placed lighting. Everyone glinted and winced until the Queen came round of his arm wearing a pink and rose evening dress similar to her daughters, whom she looked toward and graciously curtsied and smiled. She enchanted the room in front of his painful, shiny armor, giving some semblance of relief to anyone so encumbered by his presence.

“Aren’t we looking rather rich this evening.” said a man standing near the King.

King Jacove winked and tummy-rolled a chuckle, then poked a golden finger into the man's ribs. “This is protection from my wife’s virulence. She’s a real tiger.” The man closed eyes and turned, rolling them and almost gagging.

While the King and Queen were being seated, his plate armor creaked eerily. The King took a sip of wine and raised his half-empty glass in the air. Everyone remained dutifully inspired to look and listen.

“Gentlemen, let’s get down to business.” He swung an outstretched, shining hand, then made a clunking fist on the table. “Prince Sano, if you will.”

The Prince stood, toasted the room and took a sip of wine. At the entrance hallway doors, two guards pushed a standing suit of silver plate armor wheeled on a wooden platform. They stood it inside the doorway, leaving the doors open behind. It awkwardly blocked both main exit doors.

“This is an ordinary glass of wine.” said the Prince, holding the glass above his head and spinning on-heel to show the room. Blond curls danced in the wind as he quickly turned. Everyone would have sworn that he and the Princess were twins, if not for what was about to pass.

“If you are in a pinch, this... will do.” He threw the contents of the wine glass toward the standing armor. In mid-air, the wine froze and struck the armored suit, pushing its cart back a foot or two. The wine remained sticking from its chest as a rosy, frozen horn.

The delegation stood, some walking to gather with each other and quietly discussing what they’d seen.

The Prince reached across the table and took a single candle from a lit candelabra. He held it aloft for the room to see.

“This, would also do in a pinch.”

Prince Sano placed the empty wine glass over the dancing candle and spun once more, releasing the flame, pouring and pushing an orange and red plume of fire in an upwards direction before arching downward and burning the armored suit. It stood in a char of black, the rosy horn melting and falling to the floor before shattering.

The delegation bunched together on one side, clapping for the performance they’d witnessed.

“But, there will be times when something much stronger is needed.” Sano produced a set of tiny, rolled paper-like scrolls. “I’m sure plenty of you will use much more paper than this in a pinch," he winked. "But, sometimes one must simply make do.”

Everyone in the room laughed. “It takes a lot more than that to shine a King's derrière.” shouted the King.

Sano opened the tiny paper scroll and read from the top. The exact words were gibberish to the most intent of listeners. The paper shivered and shook in bright blue, emblazoned a yellow aura and shot from his hands. A red fireball erupted midway toward its target and struck the armor in such veracity, it tore a hole in its chest, pushing the metal beast deeper into the hallway.

Both sides of the door set ablaze, guards rushed to pour buckets, dousing the flames. The delegation applauded, noting the molten hole they’d seen rip through the armor while flames dripped into the wooden cart.

The King stood, walked around the huge table and approached the smoldering armor suit. More guards rushed to pour out the many small fires flickering behind the King's golden silhouette. A choking smoke boiled far out into the hallway.

"I’d like to offer you one more piece to the puzzle." said the King. "Prince Sano, if you will."

King Jacove locked long arms inside the doorframe, his glinting armor saluting the room in brilliance. He pulled down his helm, tipped the visor and laughed, seeing many standing in the room gawking at what he was about to do. He braced himself in the doorway, leaning forward.

The Prince pulled another scroll, unraveled it toward the King and read the unfathomable words. The paper set aglow in blue and yellow and shot from his hands. A red fireball grew and grew until it struck the King, dead-center. It didn’t explode this time, but rather imploded, dissolving into the golden armor and leaving nary a trace of residue. Basically, nothing happened.

“This is what I offer you.” said the King, pulling off the golden helmet and returning to address the table. “I offer twelve outstanding men to teach your soldiers in the ways of magic, for the low price of half, half of all your golden coffers. This will leave you in fairly good shape, I’ve heard. Remember, your kingdom is the last to do this.” He sat the sparkling helmet on the table and smiled at the men in the corner. “What say you?”

A man walked forward and bowed. “For the price of half, you say. Half of all our coffers?”

“Yes, half of all your gold, that is all.” said the King. "Believe me, you'll gladly make more of it." he laughed.

Each man within the delegation walked around the outside walls of the room, leaving King Jacove to wonder what was the matter. Each man pulled a paper scroll from his own pockets and held them toward the center table. The lead delegate backed into a wall and spoke. “Half is such a low, low price, but it is also only half that we desire from you.”

A single scroll turned blue, flashes of lightning fired across the room. Screaming lavender light streamed from the burning paper and went straight into Prince Sano, knocking him across the table and ricocheting his small frame off the far wall.

Shards of broken glass fell from the roof where an arrow swept down and pierced the King’s golden armor in the shoulder. Several guards suddenly fell in every corner of the room and hallway. Shouting and screeching filled the air with the not-so-kind words of despair.

Each person at the table began to flee, yet became halted by an unseen force. A few guests began to rise and float in midair. Princess Monica arose and slowly flew toward a man waving a glass stirrer, then spiraled down into his waiting clutches. An arm reached around her neck, spilling a strung row of pearls which rolled across the floor.

“If you love your kingdom,” said the delegate, “as I love mine, we would take half of your own gold. There is but one thing to do if you love your precious daughter, send it immediately. You’ve become quite rich in duping the other houses of theirs. Your only real heir will be at our castle." he smiled. "Oh, I know all about your Prince. And, he is no Prince."

The man turned and followed the procession from the room. “And,” he halted to continue, “don’t worry about the spy in your midst. It’s already too late.”

In the hallway, a lit, blue-ringed portal formed as the delegate stepped over an arrowed guard and faded from sight. The sparkling light slowly dimmed.