The Portal Keeper

by S. T. Sanchez

  “What did you do?” Ajax asked, his eyes widening in wonder.

  His father looked away for a quick moment and then back at his son. “There is only one thing you can do once someone has seen the portal. The secret comes first at all costs. We must protect it. No one can be permitted to...depart,” his father remarked solemnly.

  So you just killed him. His only crime had been curiosity. Ajax wasn't sure if he had the skill or the stomach to end someone's life.

  “But why? What's really the danger? If people that enter never return...then why not simply let them go?” he questioned. “What harm does it do anyone?”

  “After you take the oath before the King you'll understand more,” his father said flatly.

  When Ajax prodded Edwin for more answers, his father sent him home, only saying he would understand more in a couple of days.

  Ajax started home feeling worse than before he had conversed with his father. He couldn't imagine what the King could tell him that would make him feel any better about his predicament. He went to his room early that night. Hunger seemed to have abandoned him, so he tried to sleep instead.

  The fog was thick around him as Ajax walked outside. He could see a silhouette off in the distance. He stepped forward, and was surprised to feel stone under his feet instead of earth. Peering up, Ajax tried to make out the stars. After a few more paces the fog cleared and he was able to look up, but something wasn't right. There was no moon, and the stars were a deep shade of pink.

  He approached the person standing at the edge of the walkway, whose back was towards him. The man in front of him rested his hands on a stone wall that came just past the stranger's waist and he appeared to be looking down.

  As if awoken from a trance he spun around at the sound of Ajax approaching.

  “Ajax?” he asked uncertainly.

  Ajax couldn't believe his eyes. “Axel, you’re back! Where were you? Why do you look so different?”

  “Ajax,” his brother whispered in hushed tones. He stepped forward and embraced him. “You oughtn't be here,” he said, scanning the area around him with a sense of jumpiness about him.

  Ajax hugged his brother tightly and then looked at him. He had aged. He was not as old as his parents, but he appeared to be several years older; he was taller, bulkier. He had a goatee and was dressed in strange clothes.

  “Where did you go?” Ajax asked again.

  “I don't know how this is happening, but you can't be here. You have to leave. I didn't come back to you. I can never come back,” Axel insisted, pushing Ajax away.

  Ajax grasped his brother by the arm. “What are you talking about? Come on.” Ajax pulled him forward.

  “It isn't safe. GO!” Axel shouted, shoving his brother as hard as he could.

  Ajax awoke, sitting up in bed, sweat dripping from his forehead. He looked around and found he was still in his bedroom. It had been a dream. A crazy, peculiar dream. He pulled the medallion out from underneath his shirt. It was warm, almost hot, and glowed slightly.

  Perhaps it was the medallion that had given him the dream. He took it off and tossed it at the foot of his bed.

  “Ajax,” it called to him softly.

  “Ugh,” he growled as he leaned forward to retrieve it. Would he never be rid of this?

  He tossed and turned the remainder of the night. The dream had seemed so real. It had shaken him to the core. Could it have been real? It seemed so crazy, but with everything that had transpired lately he didn't rule anything out.

  Chapter V

  The next couple of days following the dream had passed in a blur. Ajax stayed near home, assuring his father he had memorized the pledge that he would make to the King today. Fear kept him from leaving. He didn't want anything else that couldn't be explained to happen to him. Each night he had the same dream, and he was haunted by his brother's ghost in the daytime.

  An hour before noon his father and mother accompanied him to the palace. They were all dressed in their finest.

  Father had bought Mother a new burgundy dress for the occasion, while he and Edwin both wore the keeper’s uniform: black boots, dark pants, a gray shirt, and their cloaks. Really, any earthy-toned shirt was acceptable. But Ajax was nervous so he simply followed suit after his father.

  The walk to the castle was silent. Ajax was nervous, and he assumed his parents must have been thinking about Axel. His mother's eyes seemed sad and forlorn. Edwin's face was a mask, no emotion to be seen.

  The guard at the gate made small talk with his father and then they were ushered inside.

  Today they used the main entrance. Ajax's eyes widened as he stepped inside. This was where royalty and diplomats entered. He had never used this doorway before. It made him even more nervous.

  The palace floor was so shiny, Ajax feared he would slip on it. The ceilings were painted in intricate scenes. He had never seen anything so exquisite. There were angels and demons fighting. He wondered if they told a story, but he didn't have time to examine the paintings properly. Every so often, a huge crystal chandelier adorned the palace foyer.

  A tall, skinny servant ushered them towards a huge room. The doors opened and Ajax could see the King sitting on his throne. Ajax had never seen it before, but it looked regal. It was made of what looked to be gold and was adorned with jewels along the sides. The cushions were red velvet and fluffy.

  The room was so long. The walk to stand before the King seemed to take a lifetime. There were only a few people in the room: the King's council, a few of the top knights, the Queen, the Crown Prince and of course, the King.

  Ajax's mother and father stopped, and he began to follow suit, but Edwin urged him forward. Ajax breathed in slowly and deeply. He tried to hold his head high. Unsure of exactly how far he should continue, he stopped at the stairs before the King's throne and offered a low, graceful bow.

  “Ajax, second son of Edwin Maxwell,” the King began, “are you ready to proceed?”

  Ajax gulped and then rose from his bow. “Yes, sire,” he answered.

  The King gave a curt nod. “Be sure you are certain. An oath to your King is not something to take lightly. Those who don't keep their vows bring disgrace. You have a chance to amend the disgrace your elder brother brought upon your family.” He stared down at Ajax. “If you are ready, you may begin.”

  Ajax cleared his throat and stood up straight. “I, Ajax Maxwell, of the Maxwell bloodline, do offer my service before my King. I pledge to always keep the secret of the portal, to never divulge it to another person, apart from my wife and children. I pledge to keep my watch until my health fails me, my son takes my place, or my King releases me. I will do all that is within my power to keep the portal safe, even if my...” the word caught in his throat but he pushed through, “my life is required. I will permit none to enter it and nothing to escape it. This is my solemn oath and I seal it with my blood.” He pulled out the dagger his father had lent him and ran it across his left hand, trying not to wince in the presence of the King.

  A servant caught some of the blood in a goblet, and then handed Ajax a cloth.

  Ajax quickly wrapped his hand, and a book was brought before him.

  “Read the genealogy and then sign your name as the newest portal keeper, Ajax Maxwell.”

  He read the names of his ancestors, stopping awkwardly at the sight of his brother’s marked-through name. So many Maxwells had given up their lives to be glorified watchmen. Ajax signed his name. He tried hard not to tremble. During his studies of the oath, he had never realized that the reddish-brown ink was actually dried blood. The blood of his ancestors.

  When he was finished, the book was brought before the King. He examined it, and once he was satisfied he waved it away.

  “Ajax Maxwell,” he began, “now that you have completed the oath I will now share the prophecy with you. Only the men in this room have heard the words that I am about to read to you. Death shall come to any who utter these words outside these walls.”

  Ajax glanc
ed to his mother and then to the Queen. Apparently, they didn't count.

  “This prophecy has been passed down from generation to generation for as long as the portal has existed,” the King continued.

  “When the blood of the first returns to his home, the battle for power will begin to unfold. Search for the dragon or all will be lost as the monster escapes to wreak havoc untold. Or death covers the realms and forever takes hold.”

  The prophecy didn't make a lot of sense to Ajax. But he understood that death forever taking hold wasn't a great thing. He wondered who made this prophecy. What did it really mean? When was it supposed to happen? Those would have all been valuable pieces of information to have, but Ajax wasn't about to ask the King those questions.

  “That is why,” the King explained, “it is so important that we guard the portal. If nothing goes in or out we can prevent this from happening. Your service will not go unrewarded. I want you to understand I know what a sacrifice you are offering, Ajax. Putting the kingdom first is a noble choice. Your shift will start tomorrow at noon.” He smiled. “Now enjoy the evening. The ball tonight will be in your honor, although only those in this room will know it,” the King reminded him. “Then come spring, you will attend many more, and in time, we will find you a bride and start construction on your home.”

  “Thank you, Your Highness.” Ajax bowed, feeling a sense of relief that at least this part of his task was over. Guarding the portal would last another twenty-three to twenty-five years or more, depending on how soon he wed.

  They were escorted out by the same servant that brought them before the King.

  Ajax breathed a sigh of relief when they were out of the King’s presence.

  Edwin gave his son a hearty pat on the back. “Congratulations, son. Enjoy the night. Sleep in, and come relieve me at noon.” His father smiled proudly.

  “See you at home.” His mother kissed him gently on the cheek. Her eyes were holding back tears.

  Ajax wasn't sure if she was proud of him or sad and thinking of Axel.

  As he watched his parents head out, a young page, wearing the royal colors black, burgundy, and gold, approached him. “I beg your pardon sir, but the Prince has requested your presence in his quarters.”

  Ajax was a little taken aback. “Um, sure,” he replied, following the lad. What could the Prince want? He had met the King today, was about to attend his first ball, and now was on his way to the Prince's personal quarters. What a day this was turning out to be.

  As Ajax followed the boy through a maze of corridors, passing spacious rooms lavishly decorated, he wondered how long it took the page to orient himself to the layout of the palace.

  After about ten minutes of weaving through numberless palace corridors, they arrived at two massive wooden doors. They were hand carved with the image of the Prince fighting off a large mountain lion, surrounded by a design of woven leaves and branches.

  The page tapped only once and waited. After several long moments, right before Ajax was going to suggest another knock, one of the doors swung open, revealing a gray-haired old gentleman dressed entirely in black.

  “His Highness will see you now,” the man announced, stepping back and ushering Ajax into the room.

  The page nodded to the gentleman and then disappeared down the passage.

  “Please take a seat. Prince Blake will be out in a moment.”

  Ajax took a seat tentatively in a big plush blue chair. The seat was so soft it sucked him in, making him feel ridiculously awkward. He struggled to sit up. He glanced around the room. It was a mess. It was about four times bigger than his own room.

  There were paintings on the wall, mostly of the Prince himself. Several sofas and various chairs were scattered around the room, along with a variety of fancy vases and sculptures. He guessed the Prince must entertain a lot to need so much seating. The chamber would have probably been more stunning, but everywhere Ajax gazed there were clothes strewn—piled on the floor, stuffed under tables, and draped over the furniture. He even noticed a pair of trousers tossed up on a chandelier. Did he not have an army of servants that could pick up after him?

  “My name is Grand. Please, Master Maxwell, may I offer you some refreshment?”

  Ajax shook his head. “No, thank you,” he answered quickly. He was too nervous to eat anything, plus he wasn’t exactly sure of the proper etiquette surrounding the Prince. A few brief conversations over the last two years was all that they had exchanged. These settings were much more intimate.

  A door behind him opened. Ajax craned his neck to see the Prince enter. He tried to stand, but had some trouble navigating the plush chair. Finally, he toppled out awkwardly and offered a bow. “Your Highness, I am honored to be invited here,” Ajax said, feeling his cheeks turn red.

  “We're alone here,” the Prince replied, making a stopping motion with his hand. “No bowing or ‘Your Highness’ in here. I'd tell you to call me Blake...” the Prince began, and Grand stood up and started to open his mouth, “but,” he added quickly, “Grand would faint at the very least. So, Prince is fine, but no ‘Crown Prince’ or ‘Your Excellency,’” the Prince mocked. “These are my private chambers—I am allowed to relax the rules a little,” the Prince said as he walked around to take a seat across from Ajax, adding under his breath, “Just barely.”

  Once seated, the Prince leaned forward in his chair eagerly. “So how does it feel to be the portal keeper? And what about that prophecy? Sounds unintelligible to me, but then I have never cared much for poetry. Maybe hundreds of years ago we needed to cower. But now the kingdom is flourishing, the King's guard grows larger and larger every year. I don't deem a little tree as a huge threat to the kingdom.”

  The Prince looked at Ajax expectantly, and he realized it was now his turn to say something. He sat back down, being careful to sit just on the edge and not lean back.

  “It's pretty overwhelming right now, to be honest.”

  The Prince nodded. “Are you ready for the ball tonight? It's never too early to start taking notes on who the future Mrs. Maxwell will be.”

  Ajax stared down at the laundry-littered floor; he felt like he was blushing. Marriage was years down the line—it seemed to soon to think of such things.

  “I thought you might want to wear one of my old suits tonight,” the Prince offered. “It's simply a little dressier than the uniform,” he observed as he looked disapprovingly at Ajax's outfit.

  “That would be kind of you, Your High—” he began but the Prince gave him a stern look. “Yes, thank you...Prince.” It sounded awkward to just say “Prince.”

  Prince Blake led him to a room full of clothes. The closet was bigger than his own room. He found a royal blue suit with a few tiny flowers stitched in silver thread on the lapels and cuffs of the jacket.

  The suit fit him well. He was thankful His Royal Highness and he were about the same size. The Prince found him a burgundy shirt along with matching shoes.

  Then the Crown Prince called for the barber to come to his quarters and give them both a shave and a trim while he sent Grand to the kitchen to scrounge them up some supper.

  The old man led a small train of servers into the room just as the barber was cleaning up. Silver trays were set wherever there was a clean spot. The smells wafting up from under the lids were wonderful. Slowly, one by one, the covers were lifted and Ajax's eyes widened as his mouth began to water. There was roasted chicken, boiled potatoes, salads, biscuits dripping in butter, fruit, cheese, and chocolate! He had only had chocolate on a few occasions, but it was divine.

  Grand handed an empty glass platter to Ajax.

  He took it and waited for the Prince to serve himself first.

  Ajax followed behind him, being cautious to take less than the Prince did.

  They sat at a table that Grand had quickly cleared off.

  After a bite of chicken, the Prince leaned back in his chair. “So, have you seen it yet? The portal?” he enquired casually.

  “Only tw
ice,” Ajax said between bites. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, feeling self-conscious eating in the presence of His Royal Highness.

  The Prince placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward, his eyes full of wonder. “What was it like? I am definitely going to come see you this week.”

  “It's just as they say,” Ajax shrugged. “It looks as if black waves are swirling around on a tree. The descriptions and pictures I have seen are pretty accurate.” A smile curled up at the corner of his mouth. “But it's amazing too. Even though I knew about it, I'd seen the drawings, heard about it—it was still unbelievable to see it in person.”

  It was exciting to see the Prince so interested in something Ajax knew and the Prince didn't. He bet this was pretty much the only thing he had experienced that Prince Blake hadn't.

  The Prince pushed his plate off to the side, leaned back in his seat, and propped his feet on the table. “Wow. It sounds pretty amazing.”

  Grand walked over to a window. Ajax was amazed to see it was already dark outside.

  “Guests are beginning to arrive,” the old man informed the Prince.

  Jumping to his feet the Prince announced, “We'd better get dressed. We don’t want to keep the ladies waiting too long.”

  Ajax dressed in the closet where they had left his outfit hanging. The feel of the fabric was amazing. He had never worn material so soft. He buttoned up the silver fox buttons on his jacket. Every detail was fine and elegant. He pulled on the burgundy shoes, and it felt as if his feet were on their own individual pillows. He wondered how much an outfit comparable to this would cost him at Mr. Foster’s. When he was finished changing, Grand led him to another room, and splashed some sweet-smelling perfume on him.

  It seemed to take forever for the Prince to change into his outfit for the ball. Ajax examined the paintings and sculptures as he waited. The Prince seemed to really like wild animals. There was a painting of him fighting off a ferocious brown bear, a sculpture of a tiger, and another of a lion.