“Mordora, look!” Moren's words snapped her out of the memory, and she realized that the ballroom had faded into the moonlit snowy night. She glanced around and saw the snowmen they had created as well as the small, fortified walls of snow they had swiftly constructed in the midst of the snowball fight.
Their mother stepped out from behind a wall with a snowball in one hand and a smile touching her lips. When she saw her children's bewildered and stunned looks, she frowned and glanced around to see what troubled them. Finding nothing, she tossed the snowball aside and approached them. “What is wrong, my children? You look as though you've seen a ghost.”
Mordora and Moren exchanged a look then fixed their gaze back on her. Moren could only stare while Mordora attempted to find the words to say. Wary of the apparition of their mother disappearing when she learned the truth, Mordora measured her words and decided that being honest was the best approach. “Mama...you...you are the ghost.”
Taken back, Queen Annetta hesitated then glanced between her children and nodded. “Ah yes, I remember now. I died of an illness one winter night.” She looked around them with creased brows and gestured to their surroundings. “Why are we here? Why are you here?”
“We're learning magic!” Moren rushed to his mother and seized her hand—surprised it remained solid, but he ignored this and stared up at her face earnestly. “Prince Lorrek is teaching us. He taught us how to do this.” He motioned to their surroundings. “Do you like it?”
Annetta stared at them for a long moment, yet as it began to sink in, she nodded. “Of course—your magic. You are finally embracing it.” A proud smile lit her face, and she returned Moren's firm grip then reached out to Mordora. “Come! There is much to show you—so much you can do!”
Outside the illusion they had created, Lorrek observed—just beyond the edge where magic met reality. He saw the snowy night scene the siblings had conjured, and he observed Queen Annetta as she led them to a bench and sat them down. She spoke with them, “Now, magic is instinctive, but both of you have different instincts. Mordora, you have always been one to push away your hurt and people who make you feel uneasy. That might manifest into a physical push done only with your mind.” She turned to Moren, “And you, Moren...” She smiled as she brushed his bangs from his eyes. “You have always tried to hide or become invisible whenever you think you're in trouble. With practice, you will likely discover the ability to literally become invisible...”
As the ghost of the queen went on to speak, Lorrek folded his arms and leaned back against a pillar. Annetta spoke of the most basic elements of magic—most of which Lorrek had forgotten due to how closely in tune he was with his magic. Thinking back, he wondered what his instinct had been when learning his power.
As soon as he pondered this, a fiery orb ignited in his hand, and he looked down—unfolding his arms—and frowned, staring at the vibrant shades of blue. An orb—considered to be offensive by nature. However, the orbs only manifested when their master was in danger, and he recalled back—so far back—to a time when he played with his older brothers in their mother's gardens. Theran chose Heldon as his companion while Honroth chose Lorrek, and they divided the gardens into their separate territories and began to sneak into the other's borders to steal the goblets they had taken from the kitchen as their trophies. Honroth always knew where Heldon would be, so he sent Lorrek to find Theran.
Sneaking around the bush, the two brothers came face-to-face, halted, stared, and then Theran smiled. “You know you're going to lose.”
Young Lorrek narrowed his eyes. “No, I'm not! Honroth is smarter than you.”
“Than me? Really? He sent you after me, didn't he? That's not very smart.” Theran shook his head and moved to pass his little brother, but Lorrek grabbed his arm.
“I can handle you myself!”
Theran raised his brows as he looked down at Lorrek. “Really? I mean, look at you. You're puny—you can't even hold a training sword.” Again, Theran tried to move past his brother, but Lorrek pushed back, causing Theran to step back and stare at him in disbelief and mounting indignation. “What do you think you're doing?”
Lorrek lifted his chin, lowered his stance—ready for whatever Theran might throw at him. “You're not going to win this time.”
Recognizing the weak fighting stance Lorrek had adopted, Theran laughed. “You can't stop me.”
“I can try.”
Annoyed by the delay, Theran made a fist and punched Lorrek hard in the stomach. Lorrek cried out and doubled over, but Theran rolled his eyes. “Wimp.” He turned on his heel to hasten away and find the goblet while Honroth and Lorrek were away from it.
Suddenly a blaze of blue blasted past him and smacked into the tree in front of him. Theran fell back with eyes widened in shock as he stared at the smoking, scorched bark of the tree. He glanced back to see where it came from, and his gaze fell on Lorrek—who held a blue fiery orb in his fist.
For the first time in his life, Lorrek saw true fear in Theran's eyes—fear of him. He had never looked at him like that before. The fear in Theran's eyes frightened Lorrek, and he looked down at his hands and saw the fiery orb. Lorrek screamed and tried to shove the blue fire off his hand, only to shoot it away and another took its place in his palm.
“Lorrek!” Theran dove out of the way of another blast and took shelter behind an old tree stump. Still he heard Lorrek's cries of fear and the explosions of the magical orbs blasting other objects—trees, benches, rocks, and then he heard another cry. Theran's heart stilled. “Heldon.” He peered around from his hiding place and saw Heldon on the ground, holding his bleeding leg while he stared with terror at Lorrek, whose hands glowed blue.
Lorrek stared down at Heldon—fearful and lost. He reached down to help his brother, but Theran knew what was about to happen. “Lorrek, no!” He sprung from where he hid and rushed to his little brother, but Honroth appeared out of nowhere and knocked Lorrek unconscious with a rock. However, Theran kept moving and slid to his knees, catching Lorrek before he hit the ground.
“Theran, what happened?” Honroth demanded as he went to his injured twin.
“I don't know. I don't know.” That was the last thing Lorrek recalled of that event as his mind completely shut down, and he sank into his brother's arms.
Later, their father told him how his words and wit were his natural weapons, and the fiery orb was the magical manifestation of that. To control his outbursts, he had to tame his tongue, and since then Lorrek had developed a quiet persona.
As he emerged from these memories, he watched as Moren faded out of sight then became visible again with a brilliant grin plastered on his face. “Did you see that, Mama? I did it!”
Lorrek watched as Mordora stood facing her mother, who held a small stone in her open palm. The princess furrowed her brows and thinned her lips then stretched her hand out toward the rock. Suddenly, the rock flung out of Annetta's hand and across the garden. A pleased smile touched Mordora's lips, and she looked at her mother, wanting to jump with glee like her little brother, but all her royal training restrained her.
Annetta smiled at her. “Very good—both of you. You have done exceptionally well!”
Moren raced up to his mother and hugged her. Then he looked up at her. “What about Papa?”
She stared at him—brows furrowed in confusion. “What of him? Does he not know of your powers?” She looked at Mordora, then back at Moren, and saw both of them shaking their heads. With a sigh, she placed her hands on Moren's shoulders. “Your power is a gift, but respect your father. He means well.”
Mordora noticed how their mother began to shimmer and fade. She straightened—alarmed. “Mama?”
Annetta looked at her hand, watching it become transparent, and she lifted her gaze back to her daughter. A sad smile crossed her lips, and Annetta faded altogether.
“Mother!” Moren tried to hang on, but the illusion of the snowy garden dropped around them, leaving only the old ballroom. The young prince
spun around, trying to locate his mother again, but instead he saw Lorrek silent in the shadows. The boy made his hands into fists. “Where did she go? Bring her back!”
Approaching her brother from behind, Mordora placed her hands on his shoulders, and when he twisted his face up to look at her, she shook her head. “Magic is an illusion. That's all it ever is.”
“But I can become invisible!” He faded from view then returned once more. “How do you explain that? Is that an illusion?”
“Actually, it is,” Lorrek spoke up, and he pushed away from the pillar. Approaching the siblings, he motioned to Mordora. “However, her ability to push objects with her mind is no trick. My ability to magick anywhere in the world is definitely not one. Only the beginning of magic is an illusion.”
“But we can do magic now! Mama showed us how.” Moren looked back up at Mordora for confirmation, yet she said nothing, so he shot his gaze back to Lorrek. “That's all there is to learn, isn't there?”
A drawn out moment of silence stretched between them as Lorrek regarded the young prince. Part of him didn't know where to start. Yes, the siblings now had access to their powers, but magic wasn't as simple as that. He shook his head. “You cannot separate yourself from what you know of your powers now. You must first learn to comprehend your place and purpose in that magic, and then you can reach outside of yourself. Illusions will come easily to you, as if always at your fingertips.” He waved his hand, and the room lit with the activity of a ball, but just as quickly he gestured again, and the image faded. “They are tied closely to your memory. As long as you remember, you will be able to cast an illusion with a mere thought.”
“What if we forget? What if we lose a memory?” Mordora lowered her hand from Moren's shoulder, and Lorrek hesitated then raised a shoulder in a shrug.
“Once you have mastered the basics of magic, it becomes something...” he paused as he lifted his gaze around the room, seeking to pluck the perfect word out of the air, “...different.” He looked back at them. “It becomes a part of you—a reflex. You don't lose that. Now come—the day is well spent.” He gestured to the windows where darkness had now fallen. “And your guardian has been trailing the illusions for hours now. We should relieve him.” With that, he turned and walked away—not bothering to see if they followed him.
Lorrek took them to Jadkon, who still trailed the apparitions, and the prince of Cuskelom situated Mordora and Moren to fit the illusions before dismissing the ghosts of themselves. Jadkon never noticed the shift, and Lorrek was both pleased and disappointed with this. He was glad his magic remained undetected, but he had had high hopes for Jadkon to be an extraordinary guardian, and so far Lorrek had yet to be impressed.
Leaving the prince and princess in the care of their dutiful guardian, Lorrek retreated to his chambers. Though this room wasn't as powerful in magic as the barren ballroom, he did not want to risk interruption or raise suspicions.
Though bodily he remained in the palace, every evening and early morning since Wordan left in search of the countess, Lorrek cast his mind into his magic and traveled the lands—reading the life forces of all living creatures. He located Wordan's camp in a snow-laden valley. The king took counsel with his captains in his tent, deciding which was the best route to take through the mountains, but Lorrek passed over them. His senses sought out the signature of Countess Verddra although the name left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Verddra—a powerful and beautiful sorceress who had the privilege of growing up in Athorim. He found it surprising that King Wordan would court anyone with lineage from Athorim unless he didn’t know. Those without magic didn’t fully understand the traits of magic, but then again, magic users were masters of deception. Her skills were rooted in pure magic, so her hair was golden instead of tainted black. However, she wanted more power, so she left Athorim and discovered the tainted magic.
Once, a long time ago, Lorrek had met Verddra and noticed how her hair had streaks of black in it, but at a gesture she cast a glamour spell upon herself, so her hair looked as striking as gold. At the time Lorrek had found it intriguing and worked to perfect his own illusions, and she assisted him in the same way as Lorrek now trained Mordora and Moren.
Yet, there was a darker side to Countess Verddra that he had always sensed but never witnessed and did not understand. She had her own purpose, her own agenda, and he was certain none of it meant well for the future of Nirrorm if she intended to follow through with the marriage to King Wordan.
Through the forests of the snowy kingdom, Lorrek let his mind meander, following the trail of the magic user, which shone like a star trail across the sky. Whoever had captured Verddra didn't bother to mask her magic, and any magic user could locate her easily. While planting thoughts in Wordan's mind of which direction to take, Lorrek pursued the path deeper and deeper into the woods—black with shadows, white with snow.
None of this felt right. Verddra was powerful. Lorrek had always thought that one day he would fight her in battle, defending Cuskelom due to their different views of the right use of their powers. Who could have subdued her? What did this mean for the rest of the kingdoms?
His presence came to the edge of the woods where a small was cottage nestled in the shadows, so no ordinary person would have noticed it at first glance. Lorrek couldn't help but see the blinding presence of Verddra. Due to the fact that Lorrek was present only in the mind, he didn't have to pass through walls to see what was inside. With only a thought, the structure of the house crumbled in his imagination, and he frowned when he saw Verddra gagged and bound to a chair in front of a hearth. Already he knew the ropes around her wrists and ankles were enchanted, or she would have been able to free herself with magic. This worried Lorrek, and he walked through the house like a ghost, inspecting the situation.
A bowl of half finished mead and a wooden spoon sat on the table near the hearth, and a stool had been pulled up in front of Verddra as if her captor had taken the time to feed her. However, something must have distracted him, so he left in a hurry after gagging her again.
Lorrek spread out his senses and found no other life signature in the immediate area, so he turned his attention back to Verddra. She was still blonde—somehow her enchantment held up even under these dire circumstances; she must have been more vain than he first realized. She looked as beautiful as ever—never aging a day except for in her golden eyes—eyes that Lorrek stared into as he crouched in front of her, unseen through magic.
“What is your game, Milady?” Lorrek wondered aloud but was unheard by her. He was certain she sensed his presence, but with her magic bound, it was like seeing a face in a crowd but not being able to tell who exactly she saw. He walked around her, examining the cabin. If he was to send King Wordan here, he wanted to make sure it was safe.
Nothing looked out of place or suspicious. No armed men guarded the place as one would expect in a kidnapping situation, but that was what made Lorrek leery.
Unable to determine anything, he took a deep breath and had one last look at the bound Verddra. He withdrew his presence from the house and passed through the woods once more to King Wordan's tent, where he now slept. Touching upon his dreams, Lorrek imprinted a path to the house, so Wordan would be inspired to go there.
With that, Lorrek withdrew from the camp and returned his presence to his body in the palace and opened his eyes, only to groan and press his palms deep into his eye sockets where a headache pounded. It had been a while since he traveled through magic so far from his body, and he had forgotten about the headaches.
Pressing a hand against the temple of his head, he reached out blindly for the edge of his bed. It was only then that he noticed Guardian Jadkon sitting on a chair near the door directly across from him. Lorrek greeted him with a grunt before he flung himself onto the bed and covered his eyes with the back of his hand.
Jadkon watched the prince of Cuskelom, unamused. “You're using magic.”
“And you didn't try to stop me,” Lorrek th
rew back. He still didn't open his eyes.
Jadkon frowned. “If I did, you would have found some way of preventing me from stopping you.”
A smirk tugged at Lorrek's lips—eyes still closed. “You're right. I would have.” Then he opened his eyes and nodded at Jadkon. “Pray tell, good Guardian...” He pushed himself up and swung his feet over the edge of the bed to look at the protector. He tried to put on his best grin and conceal the pounding headache. “Why are you here? Surely you didn't think I was in danger.” He touched his chest in mockery and earned a glower from Jadkon, which only made Lorrek's grin grow even wider. “Ah, you did think I was in danger! What would you have done? Knocked me over the head to knock some sense into me?” Lorrek snapped his fingers and shook his head. “That wouldn't have worked out well for you. Trust me.”
Lorrek pressed his palms on his knees as he rose to his feet only to find Jadkon now standing, and the guardian placed his sword at the prince’s throat. Unimpressed, Lorrek looked up the blade to its master and arched a brow. “Truly? Is that the best you can do? It won't work against me. At a single word, it'll turn into a serpent, and I'll command it to strike you.”
Jadkon remained unaffected and kept his sword at Lorrek's throat. His eyes hardened. “You lied to my king.”
“I do that a lot—lying, that is.”
“You have the Princess Mordora and Prince Moren under a spell.”
“Me?” Lorrek pointed to himself. “Them?” He pointed at the door. “Under a spell?” He then chuckled and shook his head. “No, no, no, no—nothing like that. I am helping them.”
Jadkon's eyes narrowed. “And how are you doing that?”
Lorrek took a moment to consider his next words then nodded and looked back at Jadkon with a smile. “Have you ever heard of dance lessons?” When the guardian slowly nodded, Lorrek shook his head. “It's nothing like that at all. I'm teaching them magic, of course!” His brilliant smile returned as he batted away Jadkon's sword. When the guardian refused to remove the weapon, Lorrek tsked his tongue then phased through the weapon and wagged his finger at Jadkon. “See? Inefficient against me.”
The Chronicles of Lorrek Box Set Page 8