“And who exactly was it who came to me for help?” Lorrek finally turned to look at her completely, and his eyes held a dark, impatient look, but he answered the question before Vixen could. “It was Radella. She could not bring down Mordora and her newfound power even with the help of Skelton and Adonis, both of whom are sorcerers in their own right. Yet they came to me for a reason, and perhaps that reason is because they know I will stop at nothing to right what has been wronged.”
“Only because you’re stubborn enough to get yourself killed in the process if necessary.” Vixen crossed her arms.
The two scowled at each other.
Someone cleared their throat, and they looked back to see Zoyra standing there.
The Guardian gestured ahead. “We should keep moving. Skelton’s life depends on us.”
With no further prompting, Lorrek rose to his feet, tested the sling Vixen had made for his arm, and found it worked well. He nodded at Vixen and stepped past her. “We should go.”
As he passed her, she asked, “What? No ‘thank you for tending my arm’?” Of course she wasn’t expecting an answer from him. She felt she had made a little headway with Lorrek, but there was much more to be done before she could finally get him to crack. For now though, she stood and followed after the others.
6
Lorrek led them through the land all day long. No one spoke to him but instead conversed among themselves. Zoyra wanted a better understanding as to why exactly she was here, because she felt she wasn’t much use. Vixen had taken the opportunity to catch up with Theran and the condition of the world during her one-year absence, but other than that, she kept an eye on Lorrek. Theran still felt guilty for breaking his brother’s arm.
The air became thick with tension.
At last, Lorrek stopped and told them, “We camp here tonight.” They settled in. Lorrek found he wasn’t much help with a broken arm, but his magic made up for that.
After killing a wild hare, cooking it, and then eating it, Vixen volunteered to keep first watch so the others could sleep.
Lorrek didn’t lay down to rest immediately. He went to the edge of the camp, sat on a log in silence, and stared into the darkness.
Vixen watched him but didn’t approach. She knew there was more happening than she could see.
As he sat there, Lorrek closed his eyes and sank into the magic realm. Here, his arm didn’t pulse with pain. Here, everything was connected and everything made sense.
Vixen’s words had stunned him and had hurt him. His own attitude toward Theran still weighed on his mind. He would have to apologize one of these days, but he wanted to reclaim his calm before he did that. He didn’t need to snap again.
However, he had much to do, so he dismissed his own concerns and frustrations as he directed his mind to Cuskelom. The land zoomed past him until he came to his family’s castle and slipped through the walls into the corridors, wandering like an unseen ghost.
He came upon Erita, who walked through the hall, shrouded in her night robe and accompanied by bodyguards. That was an odd sight because Lorrek knew she was a sorceress and could take care of herself, but he reminded himself that she was the queen of Cuskelom now and therefore required extra protection. She looked exhausted but worried as well. Lorrek followed her until she came to the council chamber where Heldon argued with some of his advisors.
Erita came to the door, dismissed her guardians with a gesture, and she crossed her arms. “I declare this counsel session is at an end.”
The men looked up from the table to see their queen standing there in her nightgown, and they all straightened at once. Heldon looked ready to protest, but the constable placed his hand on the king’s shoulder. “Let it rest for the night. The problem will still be there in the morning, Sire.” And the wise old man went his way, bowing his head to the queen. “My apologies for keeping him so late, Your Majesty.”
Erita gave him a gracious nod and stepped aside to let him pass, but she said nothing as the room emptied of everyone except for Heldon. He remained with hands braced on the table, staring at the documents and maps spread out before him.
She sighed and stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. She drew near to Heldon and touched his hand. “Come to bed. You’ve worked long and hard all day.”
Heldon shook his head. “I cannot—not until a true alliance has been reformed between Cuskelom, Serhon, and Jechorm. Also, there are tidings saying that Talhon awakens once more. It has been generations since they opposed anyone, and no one knows what to expect.” He bowed his head and closed his eyes. “Honroth would have known what to do. I…I just feel inadequate to be king.” He sighed, lifting his gaze to the ceiling. “Why couldn’t Theran or even Lorrek take on this responsibility?”
But he knew the answer. Lorrek, as the youngest, was never meant to be king. It would have been unfair to demand it of him. However, Theran—the rightful heir to the throne—could not rule as long as his touch literally broke everything. So the burden fell on Heldon’s shoulders. He missed his twin brother, Honroth.
Observing this, Lorrek felt guilty for not being at his brother’s side, but he watched Erita slip her hand into his and gently pull him away from his work. Lorrek was glad Heldon had found and married such a woman. At least he wasn’t completely alone.
This brought to mind another member of his family who likely didn’t have the support of another, and Lorrek sighed as he pulled back from Cuskelom and surveyed the kingdoms in search for a single signature—that of Therth, his cousin.
He found Therth in the outskirts of Serhon among the thieves led by Aden. Lorrek found this peculiar since that was the very group of thieves which Vixen had originally been a part of. He wondered if she had any hand in orchestrating Therth’s involvement with them.
Zooming in to Therth’s exact location, Lorrek found his cousin practicing his archery skills in the clearing of the woods. At this late hour, most of the thieves had retired for the night, but Therth offered to keep watch and took the opportunity to practice, and Lorrek watched him work.
Many people had been hurt by Lorrek’s decision to take Princess Atheta away from the immediate danger that had been her father, and not least of them was Therth. Although Atheta had been intended to marry Theran, as the double of the prince, Therth had had much interaction with her and came to love her. In the end, once she discovered his existence and that he was not Theran, Atheta realized the man she truly loved and wished to marry was not Theran but rather Therth. This complicated matters. The situation became more complex when Atheta became impregnated by Therth. And to make matters worse, fearing for her life and the life of the unborn child, Lorrek took her away from all of it, stole her memories, and implanted new ones to save them all.
He had expected to one day return to her, give her back her memories, and bring her back home again—with the child. Yet the new life she had found proved too real, and she refused to leave the man she had married and the children she had had with him. She chose to stay.
Therth forever lost his love, and he would never know his child.
And this was Lorrek’s fault.
Shadowing Therth now, Lorrek saw a silent man, hardened by life’s trials. He was more rugged now, having shed all semblance of nobility. He had once grown up in the palace of Cuskelom alongside the princes, and he had even served Countess Verddra as her chief in command, and he always wore sharp uniforms keeping with the position of power. However, now he wore whatever he could find, and it looked as if he hadn’t bathed or washed in weeks. His beard was fuller now, blond hair darker and longer now. He fit the role of a thief quite well, shooting the arrows one after another into the target of straw.
A female thief approached him with her own set of arrows, but then Lorrek did a double take. Princess Gremina? What was she doing here? As princess of Serhon and the younger sister of Atheta, did she not know of Therth’s previous relationship with her older sister?
Lorrek stared, stunned by this turn of events, but he cou
ld only watch as Gremina gave Therth a few pointers with archery. “Anchor your hand to your chin…like that, yes. Good. Make sure your elbow is up…” She gently touched his hand as she guided him into the perfect stance. “And release.” Both Therth and Gremina watched the arrow fly.
It hit the target’s center.
Gremina smiled as she stepped back from Therth as he lowered his bow and bowed his head to the princess. “Thank you.”
“You actually do quite well on your own.”
“Aye, but the bow has never been my choice weapon.” It had been Atheta’s, Therth left unsaid, but Lorrek caught the thought.
Gremina nodded. “You’re doing well—especially since you’re still learning.”
The two gradually made their way back to the camp, conversing quietly.
Lorrek watched them go. He couldn’t believe what he had just seen. Then again, he wasn’t sure what exactly he had witnessed. It appeared as though the two tolerated each other. Lorrek wondered if Gremina knew what hand Therth had played in Atheta’s disappearance, but Lorrek had learned not to interfere. Not anymore. He had tried to fix that situation before, and nothing went according to plan.
This brought to mind another situation he had tried to fix, and he wondered what had come of it. With merely a thought, Lorrek’s world collapsed around him and then reformed into the land of Nirrorm. In the realm of magic, he stood outside the walls of the castle, looking up.
This was all too familiar. After all, this was how it had begun.
He shook his head and latched onto a green magical signature in the palace, and in an instant he was there, observing young King Moren as he slept. The king was only a boy, no more than ten years old. It wasn’t his place to be king of Nirrorm, yet his older sister, Mordora, was in the wind chasing magical myths.
Lorrek shook his head. He needed to bring the princess back here, so she could claim her rightful place as queen of Nirrorm, but he wondered if Moren would give up that power. He’d only been king for a year and was still young, but thankfully he had a good regent.
At the thought of the regent, Lorrek turned to the doorway and saw a silhouette of a woman there. Lorrek had not intended to converse with anyone during his travels in the magic realm, but this particular person demanded his full attention. “Mother.”
Lorentha lifted her head as she saw her youngest son shimmer in front of her. She knew he was a projection of himself from another place, but still, she counted it a blessing any time she saw him. Only twice in the past eleven years had she seen him, and even then both times had been brief. She smiled, motioning for him to follow her out of the king’s chamber.
Once they were in the corridor, she explained, “I just came to check on Moren. He has been having trouble sleeping lately. That poor child shouldn’t deal with the stress of a kingdom.” She shook her head.
“At least he has a wonderful regent,” Lorrek pointed out with a kind smile and soft voice. Then he glimpsed this way and that way down the hall before looking back at his mother. “And, if all goes well, soon Princess Mordora may return to Nirrorm to claim what is rightfully hers—if she is sound of mind.”
Lorentha’s eyes widened. “You seek the princess?”
Lorrek nodded. “Aye. Theran, Vixen, and myself seek her. However, there has been a complicated turn of events. Are you familiar with the bracelet of Rykeldan or the thymords, Mother?” He tilted his head to the side and watched as she furrowed her brows.
At first she began shaking her head but then paused and nodded. “The thymords sound familiar. I believe I recall reading mention of them in the library in Cuskelom.” Confusion clouded her eyes, but she blinked to focus on her son, and she could see how distraught he was. She frowned. “What has happened, Lorrek?”
A small, amused chuckle escaped Lorrek’s lips as he shook his head. Why did everyone assume he knew everything? He locked eyes with her and shrugged. “I…” He hesitated, thinking back to what he had witnessed of Mordora with the bracelet already, but he decided his mother didn’t need to know the details. “All I know is Mordora may have come across a power greater than she can imagine or control, and I must find her. I know not when I will find her and if she will be willing to return with us, but know, Mother, that I intend to make things right.”
His mother gave him a sad smile. “I am very proud of you, my son. All you have ever done was seek to do right with your powers. I know things have not gone as you had hoped, but I know you have only had the best interest of others on your mind.”
He gifted her with a small smile in return. “You may be the only one who thinks so.” Then he nodded toward the door of the boy-king’s chamber. “You are doing well by him. I am glad you are here.”
“At least I am being of help to someone.”
He smiled at her again. “You are always helpful, Mother.” Then he stepped forward to press a kiss to her forehead, but he wasn’t really there, so it was a phantom kiss, and Lorentha closed her eyes, knowing what he meant by the gesture. Then he stepped back with a heavy sigh. “I must carry on.”
She lifted her brows. “Are you inspecting the realms?”
“Aye.” He nodded.
“Be careful.”
He smiled back at her. “Always.” And then he slipped back deeper into the realm of magic. He had one more place to visit before he was finished, and he directed his attention to Athorim to determine whether Verddra and Roskelem were still in the dungeon there. The last thing he needed was for those two to escape at a time such as this, when the bracelet of Rykeldan was out in the open. Both of them would do anything for that sort of power.
Pulling out of the mountains of Nirrorm, Lorrek redirected his attention to the desert of Athorim.
The mountains gave way to forests which swept by, soon replaced by desert land, and Lorrek went deeper and deeper in the desert until he came upon a city with black walls. He paused for a moment to observe this city—the core of pure magic with ties to the kelliphs. He wondered briefly if he would get a better understanding of the concept of pure magic versus tainted magic as they tracked down this kelliph magic, but that was the least of his concerns.
Shaking his head, he slipped into the city, leaving in his wake a ripple of white light along the black walls. The trail followed him though no one in the city could actually see him.
As he went deeper and deeper into the heart of the city below the streets, the light he left in his wake became brighter and brighter until he paused and turned back to look at the magic trail. The walls here were sensitive to magic, but he whispered a spell, and the bright colors faded—not completely, but now when he moved, it looked as if a dark wave rippled across the surface of the wall, unnoticed by those who were not looking.
Then Lorrek resumed his journey into the dungeons of Athorim.
In the depths of the dungeon, isolated so no one would interact with them and risk having their minds poisoned by their words two cells held two separate prisoners—one was Countess Verddra, and the other was King Roskelem of Serhon. These two were on opposite sides of the dungeon from one another. They could not see each other nor speak with one another, and this was done purposely because both individuals had a way with words and influencing others.
They could not see Lorrek in the magic realm as he stood before them. They could not sense him now. They were blind to magic—ever since Lorrek had stripped them of their powers and entrapped it within two separate handblades, which he kept locked away in his pocket dimension.
As he stood before Roskelem’s cell—on this side of the magic, glass, and bars that held the cowardly king in—Lorrek folded his arms and observed him. Few respected Roskelem when he demanded it. They saw him as a weak leader, and that angered him, so he had sought after power to prove his strength. He was one of the few people Lorrek knew who successfully had magic infused into his being. Of course, since this magic was foreign to the body, it had always been unstable, and this affected Roskelem’s mind, driving him mad for even more
power.
However, Lorrek had stripped him of what magic he had gained, and now standing on this side of the prison, he observed the mad king. Roskelem paced back and forth, talking to himself. He made hand gestures in the air, and it almost appeared as through he was conjuring magical diagrams, yet Lorrek knew he wasn’t. If he was, Lorrek would have been able to see the diagrams. As it were though, the former king of Serhon seemed to have lost more than his power on that fateful day, and Lorrek shook his head as he turned away to go to the other side of the dungeon where the other prisoner was held.
Here, the Countess Verddra remained calm and dignified. While both cells possessed some comforts such as a bed, books, and other necessities with light channeled by magic rather than fueled by fire, Verddra’s appeared warmer and more inviting compared to the darker contrast of Roskelem’s cell. Lorrek wasn’t sure how she managed it, but she seemed at ease with her lack of magic.
However, he noticed something different about her appearance. Her blond hair had streaks of black in it as though fingers dipped in ink had raked through her hair. The blond hair was a sign of pure magic. Black hair signified the use of tainted magic, yet the Athorians were prideful people and maintained glamour spells day and night to keep the appearance that they only used pure magic. Since Verddra had been stripped of her magic, she had no means of keeping up that appearance, so now all could see what she really looked like.
And she looked old.
Lorrek blinked when he realized what he had thought, and he dismissed the thought with a shake of his head. His thoughts mattered not. Instead, he took in how Verddra coped with her lack of magic. Lorrek could not imagine being without it.
However, she sat in a chair reading a book. She was calm—undisturbed.
This was unsettling.
When she turned a page, she lifted her eyes and looked straight at Lorrek. Or that was how it seemed. She couldn’t know he was there. She had no way of seeing or sensing him. Lorrek stepped aside, and her gaze remained staring where he had been, and he let out a sigh.
The Chronicles of Lorrek Box Set Page 82