Clyden was standing outside the door to the empty room he used to bring King Danyais and his men through to Rose Claw. The King was holding his daughter, and Ari was still trying to kiss the ogre away from him to the point that even her pink lips were now taking on an olive tone.

  “Did you curse my father, Magus? In the books, the bad magus always curses people,” Ari said, looking at Clyden menacingly.

  The King started to speak up, but Clyden wickedly smiled and spoke first, “Aye! I did, and there is only one way to break the spell.” Clyden stopped speaking, letting the silence draw out ominously.

  “How do I break it?” Ari asked, mustering up all her regal bearing she had at her age.

  “If you want to break it, it is entirely simple and only you can save your father from my curse,” Clyden said.

  “Only me?” Ari asked.

  “Yes, if you wish the curse to be lifted. You have to be a good princess,” Clyden leaned in and whispering to her. Ari nodded her head, silently agreeing to his terms.

  “Clyden, I might not bathe for weeks now,” Danyais said jokingly, before adopting a more serious tone. “Are you sure? Will you not change your mind?” Danyais asked him, yet again. Danyais set down Ari, and she walked the little distance over to Clyden, tugging on his robe.

  “My answer is no,” Clyden said, looking down into Ari’s innocent green eyes.

  “I will be smart and brave, just like your friends. Pretty also,” Ari told him. Clyden smiled warmly at her, petting her head.

  “They would have loved that,” Clyden said back to the princess. He looked at Danyais, “Your Majesty, send the vrolloc’s skull to Sukkan. It should be enough.”

  “I will,” Danyais said, looking at the man holding the sack. When they left Clyden’s forest, it was Zander holding the bag, and now it was in someone else’s possession. “Wait, where is Zander?” he asked.

  The man holding the sack spoke up nervously, “Majesty, Zander said you would understand and switch out with me. He stayed with the horses.”

  ***

  The entire castle was awake and buzzing with the news of King Danyais’ magical return with a Magus. Guardsmen turned servants away, claiming they had to change bedding or clean the ceilings in rooms suddenly. Some even inventing work for themselves, all in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the Magus, who traveled with their king and his guards from an impossible distance. Clyden stood in the barren room set aside for him by the previous king, thinking to himself that the room could use some of that extra labor to clean right now in here, but he would never leave this room unlocked. He was pretty sure that Danyais would leave guards outside this door always now, since he saw how easy it was for a person to come into the royal quarters using the fade gates. Clyden twisted the lever, and all four rounded bars pushed into the walls, locking the door at four points, and resealing the room.

  Clyden turned around, looking at the door he brought Danyais and his guards through earlier. He only now had one more task to do. Clyden had to send the remaining two men to River Tarrow with all the horses left behind in his forest. ‘Smart and brave,’ Clyden thought of little Ari and how brave she was during the whole situation he had caused. Clyden should have asked Danyais, who named the Princess, even though he had a strong suspicion it was King Ledan that influenced his son’s decision. If he ever saw Danyais again, he would have to ask. He was about to enter the door linking Rose Claw to his forest when he paused, looking at another wooden door nestled into the north wall to the right of a window.

  The northern door would take him to Lizbeth’s library. Clyden turned a portion of Lizbeth’s library into a mausoleum, enshrining his dead friends there. He cast a spell on his friends’ remains, putting them into an eternal resting state free of decay or the ravages of time. Lizbeth’s library was also the place where he abandoned his magic. Witch Devil, his glaive, was forgotten and abandoned on the floor of the library. Clyden shook his head, trying to rid himself of the nightmarish images of Malve dying at his hands.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  After striking down Revlaman, when Clyden saw what he did to Malve, he cast every single restorative spell he knew. Clyden even used forbidden magical spells, dragging wild animals and criminals to the library by force, siphoning their life force to stall Malve’s demise. In the end, nothing he tried worked. When Malve took her last breath, he chanted out a spell to stop time in her body, freezing her in time. Her body will never know decay, even though dead her skin was still warm to the touch. The images and memories of the day Revlaman took his friends, and his accidentally killing Malve haunted him. Clyden could not save any of them, and the floodgate of guilt opened back up for him. His friends were clear as day in his mind’s eye. Malve was there, but then she faded away and was replaced by someone else. A little girl with curious and dazzling eyes, it was Princess Arinah Lizbeth Malve Loudas. “Old kings are the worst,” Clyden said aloud, thinking about old King Ledan.

  ***

  “My Lord, are you sure we should be doing this?” Porter, the guardsman, left behind with Zander to watch their horses at Clyden’s house, yelled up the staircase at Zander.

  Shortly after King Danyais and his guard left with Clyden, Zander curiously invaded Clyden’s dwelling. Zander was like a kid at play, exploring inside the tree. He climbed up and down the stairs, yelling out descriptions of everything he saw.

  “Porter, it is fine. You are a King’s Guardsman, have some courage!” Zander yelled from somewhere above.

  “My Lord, we shouldn’t be doing this,” Porter said. His eyes darted around nervously. Nothing short of an order from Danyais himself would get him to venture further into Clyden’s dwelling, no matter how fantastical Zander’s descriptions of the wonders he claimed to see or his sour taunting may be. It is only proper to respect other people’s boundaries.

  “Ari has to see this; she always wanted a treehouse, you know? Porter, you have to come up and see this.”

  “See what?” Clyden asked, startling Porter, causing the color to drain from his face. Porter did not even hear a step from the man. Porter turned around to face Clyden. The magus stood in front of him with annoyance written on his face. Clyden held a wicked-looking black glaive, causing the color to fade even more in Porter’s face, a possibility that should not have been possible. Porter saw silver and gold runes etched into Witch Devil. The weapon was obviously dangerous, but it was the man holding it that induce fear in him. “I am glad I took the wards down before I left, or you two would be dead.” Clyden looked over at his glass jars, some still holding experiments boiling over low flames. “You all didn’t touch anything!” Clyden raised his voice, making sure it would travel upstairs. Zander’s head peeked over the railing on the third floor, like some house cat looking down.

  “Porter, you were supposed to give the signal,” Zander said.

  In response, Porter started to caw like a crow.

  “You must be, Zander. Come! Your King awaits,” Clyden said, stepping back outside and walking over to the stable. Porter followed him, and Zander followed shortly after.

  “So, did the King say anything else?” Zander asked.

  “You mean did he ‘understand?’” Clyden said, smirking. “I think he will want to tell you himself.”

  “Oh well. Maybe I will have peace,” Zander said. Clyden tossed him a long rope. “What is this for?”

  “It is to tie the horses together, I once had a dragon get lost in the Fade, still don’t know where he is at,” Clyden said. Porter walked over and took the rope from him. Porter started to tie the horses together.

  “Help me to clear this,” Clyden said while moving stuff outside the stable. Zander saw the war glaive leaning on the gate as he approached the stables. “She is called Witch Devil. I wouldn’t touch her if I were you. She has not had anyone to play with in nearly thirty years,” he told Zander as if he had just read his mind.

  “Is it alive?” Zander asked, looking at the glaive in fascination.

  “No, it is just a glaive in anyone’s hands save mine. I just do not want you to touch her,” Clyden said. They all continued their work in silence.

  Zander noticed another horse was saddled, Clyden walked over and slid Witch Devil into a special harness made to hold her.

  “You mean to aid us, after all?” Zander asked. One could hear the relief in Zander’s voice.

  “Aid, no. Aid is something that is given freely. This is more like I am compelled to. There is a little girl, and I mean to see her grow up ‘smart and brave,’” Clyden said, pausing momentarily and sighing. “They are the worse.”

  “Who are the worse?” Zander asked.

  “Old kings.” Clyden said.

  “Old kings?” Zander asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

  Clyden did not respond to Zander’s question. He continued to wrap a leather strap around Witch Devil several times before securing his weapon in its harness. He replayed the scene of his departure from Dragon Crest in his head. Little Ari’s declaration of growing up smart, brave, and pretty echoed in his mind.

  “‘Pretty also,’” Clyden said, placing a foot in the stirrup of his saddle and leaping on his horse’s back. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Pretty also? Zander tilted his head in confusion, looking at the magus’ back.