“This is called the Fade Realm,” Clyden explained from the other side of the door, picking up a torch just mounted on the inside of the door. The torch flared to heated life. He laughed again as their expression changed again with the lighting of the torch.
“That’s real magic!” Zander said, his mouth left open in awestruck.
“You’re only talking about the torch. What about the bloody door in the tree?!” Yadu said.
“Come on, do not wait too long, or the defensive seals will kill you the moment you step through the door,” Clyden said.
“I should stay with the horses,” Zander said, too apprehensive about entering the Fade Realm after hearing Clyden’s warning. They all were hesitant, and it was King Danyais who mustered the courage to step through the doorway into the Fade Realm first. The other men, seeing their king advance before they did, spurred them into action and now crowded the door to see who would follow after him.
“Can someone shut the door?” Clyden asked after all the men stepped through the door.
“Are you sure?” someone asked weakly, fear and apprehension were in their voice, a reflection of most of the men there. Their moods were further exasperated by the eerily creaking sounds the door made when closing as if the noise singled an ominous end to be had.
When the door closed, it became silent except for Danyais’ guards’ nervous breathing and shuffling footsteps as they examined their surroundings. It was always unnaturally quiet in the Fade Realm. Some of the men took out torches from their supplies and struck flint stones to light them, rearranging themselves so that a torchbearer was spread throughout their party. Others surrounded King Danyais with hands on the hilts of their swords, half drawn.
“Nothing lives in the Fade Realm that isn’t conjured or brought in,” Clyden told them, trying to soothe their uneasiness. “Come on, follow me. Do not get lost in here.”
Clyden led the group in a straight line for about an hour until they came to a wall stretching as far as the light allowed them to see. If the entire wall was to be lit, then they would have seen a wall litter with doors. Each of these doors led to a different location throughout the world of Gawraith. The doors in appearance ranged from plain to works of art, Danyais even spotted a door that appeared to be made of gold, and there was one that looked like ice.
Clyden walked to one of the plain-looking doors and opened it. The door creaked as it opened, letting pale light through it. Before leaving the Fade Realm, he placed the torch to the right of the door he passed through. Clyden nodded with his head for them to follow him into the new room. This time several men went through the doorway first before their king with swords drawn. When they saw the palely lit empty room, they signaled for Danyais and the others to follow.
Danyais passed through the doorway, flanked by Yado and Wendell. There was another door in the room, and next to the door, two torches flared up brightly in a burst of intense white light suddenly. The torchlight filled the room, causing Danyais to squint his eyes momentarily as they adjusted. With his vision restored, Danyais was able to see the room now. The room was large and void of all furnishings, with only a thick coating of dust on the floor. Dust was kicked up in the air as his men started exiting from the Fade. Danyais turned around and looked at the rest of his men passing through the doorway. The men holding torches started to snuff them before entering the room, relying only on the ones mounted on the wall near the door Clyden was standing in front of.
The room, even though it was spacious, quickly filled with men, and when the last man passed through the door they came from, it was closed. All eyes focused on Clyden. The door Clyden was standing near had a lock unlike any Danyais have ever seen before. There was a handle in the middle, and it was connected to four rounded metal bars pushed into the sides of the door frame at the four cardinal locations. A thick lock prevented the handle from turning. Danyais turned around slowly in the room, taking in its emptiness again. He noticed one window this time, and to the right of the window, there was another door if opened would lead straight outside.
Danyais walked over to look out the window, his men parting to allow their king through. Arriving at the window, he realized the door next to the window would only lead to death if opened since it opened to a steep drop. Why is there a door here?! but his curious thoughts on the door were overwritten when he saw the sprawling city through the window and a flowing river. The familiarity of the cityscape and the twist in the river bends made him realize he was home in Dragon Crest. The Tarrow river ran along the north side of Dragon Crest. Danyais could not fathom the notion of how they traveled so far in mere moments. A twelve-day journey done in the breath of a song. His mind flooded with endless economic and military possibilities such magic could be used for.
A metallic sound drew the stunned Danyais’ attention. He walked back to the front of the room where Clyden was just in time to see the four bars of the lock groan and move in unison. Clyden pushed the door, and the door opened, the hinges creaked loudly as if crying out oil. A maid who was passing by in the hallway stopped when she heard the noise from the hinges. Her eyes widened in fear as she saw Clyden, a stranger in part of the castle emerging from a room kept secure because of an order issued by the previous king. Never mind the fact that this room itself was located in the most guarded place in Rose Claw, the Royal Quarters, and to her knowledge, this door has never been open before. Now add the door opening with a room full of men, men who carried green shields, men armed with swords, and men with painted green faces. One could see and understand the maid’s reaction as she darted off, running and screaming for help.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Clyden stepped out the door, trying to catch the maid, but she moved quicker than Clyden expected. As she fled down the hall, she knocked torches from their mounts on the wall to the stone floor. The torches sparked from the sudden impact on the stone floor, causing many of their flames to go out, making the corridor dark.
“Smart girl,” Clyden said aloud, admiring her quick defensive actions. “King Danyais, you should come quickly,” peering back into the room. Clyden saw Danyais looking out the window. A door slammed shut with a loud thud somewhere along the corridor.
Danyais turned and walked towards Clyden. “Why, what is wrong?” Danyais asked, stepping into the hallway. As if to answer his question, the warning bells of Rose Claw came alive. Looking around Danyais realized they were in his castle and by the looks of the tapestries on the wall he knew they were in the royal quarters. The bells meant that soon other members of the King’s Guard would be rushing to defend his wife and daughter.
“Form up!” Wendell ordered, when he heard the warning bells. The men with Danyais were the best of the king’s guards. Saddles, bedrolls, or whatever you could not kill a man with was dropped to the stone floor. Five men pushed in front of the King, swords drawn and shields raised, five more took up flanking positions. The remaining eight ventured out in front of the containment box formation they set up with Danyais in the middle, their weapons in hand.
Clyden was impressed with their efficient movements and decisive response.
“I think we are the reason for the alarm,” Clyden said.
“I am sure we are. This hall leads to my daughter’s room. She must be scared with all this noise, let’s go see her,” Danyais said, his fatherly instincts on full display in his voice. He tried to move between the five guards in front of him. They closed ranks, blocking Danyais from moving forward. “Let me pass,” he said. The men refused his request, standing like muted statues in a garden. When Danyais tried to force his way through them, the men grouped up tighter, sealing the king behind a wall of flesh and drawn swords.
“Till the alarm is canceled, my King. You must stay behind us. Even if we are the root of all this,” Wendell said, waving his hand in an encompassing manner. Danyais was about to protest. “For the blood!” Wendell thundered in a manner that left no room for discussion. The sternness in his voice was the same as when he lectured and disciplined Danyais and his friends when they were little.
“We stand!” the King’s Guard responded in a force of unity with their determination. These men would follow any order their King would give. All the monarchs before and Danyais himself knew the loyalty of the King’s Guard was as an absolute, as common as the wind in the air. But when the alarm sounds in Rose Claw, the King’s Guard’s first order of business they would always obey was they would do what was necessary to save the royal family. The monarch first, even if it meant trussing Danyais up like a chicken and carrying him away. Only on a battlefield did the King’s Guard allow for any danger to get remotely close. Danyais knew the resolve in their words. Many of his guards had the Dragon Talon tattooed around their necks. Those men’s fathers refused their freedom after their fathers were 7th generation King Guards swearing even the lives of their future families to the throne.
“The dragon’s egg lies this way,” Wendell said, pointing his sword down the hall. Dragon’s Egg, the coded phrase used to represent Crown Princess Arinah. The protection and retrieval of the royal heir was almost as high of a priority for the guard as the safety of the king, maybe even consider on par depending on whether not any more offspring could be sired or not. Even though Clyden knew this was a false alarm, he could feel the intensity of the men moving stealthily in the poorly lit corridor.
They traveled down the corridor until they came to a door near the bend in the hall. This door was painted pink with fairytale murals from different stories. Danyais knocked on the door lightly when several crossbow bolts struck around Danyais’ hand with impacted thuds, one even sailing over his head. Clyden heard men screaming from down the hall, charging their position. Clyden channeled his magic quickly, speaking in a low voice, using words no one alive would understand even if they could hear him. A clear blue bubble formed around Danyais, shrinking to match the contours of his body. Another volley of bolts impacted shields his men raised in defense. Danyais’ eyes tracked a single bolt in what seemed like slow motion to him. The bolt found its way through a gap in the shielded formation and struck him in the face, splintering on impact. Danyais felt a minuscule amount of pressure where the bolt hit, the blue light surrounding him rippled like a stone tossed into calm waters. Danyais locked eyes with Clyden and nodded his head in appreciation to the Magus for saving his life.
Shouts and battle cries erupted in the corridor, “THE BLOOD! It is in danger!” the newcomers bellowed out in a dangerous tone full of driven and desperate fervor to reach their Princess, their boots scraping the stone floor as they rushed to beat back the men near their Princess’s door. The men who surrounded Danyais yelled back with the same passion with their own cries of “DEFEND THE BLOOD!” “The Dragon forward!” and “for the King!” Some of the men in the King’s company shouted for their approaching comrades to stop while some prepared themselves with grim resolve at the possibility they would be killing their fathers, brothers, and friends soon, or the chance of being killed by them.
Clyden stepped forward, speaking in the same unintelligible language as before; this time, he spoke with more force. An orange aura surrounded him, gathering the attention of some of the combatants; the loose fabrics of his robe began to move as if the wind started to tug on them. When Clyden finished the spell, it caused a forceful wind to whip through the hallway, knocking all who were in it down to the ground, except for Danyais and the magus. Clyden pointed his right hand at Danyais, still wrapped in the protective blue bubble cast on him from before. The king was lifted up by unseen hands and floated over to the guardsmen, who were just rushing them.
“My King?” a guard asked after he managed to look past the green on Danyais’ face. Gasps could be heard from the other guards in the corridor when they realized the floating green man was their King.
***
