Fairy Tales Revisited on Silvery Earth

by Barbara G. Tarn

  Rithvik had seen his father's archers wear that kind of protection around their arms or wrists. He'd used a pair that reached the elbow himself when he went hunting.

  "I think those are Aelaora's bracers," Kerrien continued. "Created in a magical ritual, the metal parts are made of iron. They strengthen the owner's will, but they can only be used by females. I guess he's trying to get rid of them..."

  "No dark corners occupied and lots of armed men in here," Rithvik noticed. "But still half the patrons are drunk, like in Backeran... and this wine stinks!"

  "But the noise is quiet and subdued," Kerrien said. "Want to try the house special? It's a minor local legend, you know?"

  Rithvik eyed suspiciously the light brown drink with blue swirls and a slice of a strange fruit on the edge of the goblet. Kerrien put the goblet under his nose with a smile – the drink smelled wonderful. After a last hesitation, Rithvik took a sip of it.

  "It tastes like strawberries!" he said, pleasantly surprised.

  "But it's alcoholic, so don't drink too much of it," Kerrien warned, downing the rest.

  "So you're a drunkard?" Rithvik teased.

  "I drink only when I want to forget," Kerrien replied, leaning forward as if he was confiding a big secret.

  "What do you want to forget?" Rithvik asked, puzzled. "We're doing fine, no? We'll find a job with the town militia and..."

  "And I'd rather forget I need to carry you around for who knows how long," Kerrien said.

  "Don't you have a house to go back to? I mean, don't you have friends or... a special someone?" Rithvik asked.

  "Not really, no," Kerrien grumbled. "I told you, I'm a loner."

  "But don't you ever wish to have someone?" Rithvik insisted, a little worried.

  Kerrien took a deep breath and looked at him.

  "Yes, I wish to have someone, but you're not that someone, Rithvik." He pushed back his empty plate. "Let's go and see if we can find a way of earning some coins..."

  ***

  Captain Theodenzo gave Rithvik the once-over before turning back to Kerrien. He sat at his desk while Kerrien and Rithvik stood in front of him in the small office in the militia's barracks by the walls and the eastern gate.

  The room barely contained his desk and a shelf of leather-bound books marked with numbers on the spine – maybe years, maybe file names, they made no sense to Rithvik. A quiver of various arrows with different markings hung from the shelf. There was just one stool, but Kerrien had ignored it and Rithvik preferred towering over the seated captain than sitting down.

  Theodenzo had gorgeous features and a tall, broad build. His mane of gray hair made him look like a nobleman and a mustache covered his upper lip.

  "I've heard of you, Kerrien, but this guy..." The captain shook his head, skeptical. "He looks too young to be of any use. And Dylira would probably tear him to pieces."

  Rithvik didn't like the man much. Kerrien had told him that the captain's favorite sin was sloth, that he was a sucker for mysticism, the status quo, and creepy crawly things. He was strong and very reliable for his men, whom he considered his family.

  "Would you like to try my skills in sword-fight?" the prince offered, boiling inside at the obvious contempt in the captain's voice. "Lend me a sword and I'll show you."

  Captain Theodenzo scoffed. "Maybe I should have Dylira teach you a lesson."

  "Who is this Dylira anyway?" Rithvik asked, frowning.

  "The lecherous military official who can often be found in bad company," Kerrien answered, a little sarcastic. "She has been rapidly losing allies. Rumors say that she wants to help wizards. She can usually be found among a group of supporters. And she loves to humiliate young men at their favorite games, be it seduction or sword-fight."

  The captain scoffed and nodded. "I see you've dealt with her."

  "A warrior woman?" Rithvik's attention perked up. "I haven't met many. I'd love to fight against her... will you lend me your sword?"

  Kerrien exchanged a glance with the captain.

  "Be my guest," Theodenzo said. "If he beats her, I'll hire him immediately."

  Rithvik grinned confidently at Kerrien who sighed and unbuckled his sword-belt, passing it to him. Rithvik put it around his waist and bowed.

  "Thank you, Kerrien. I promise I won't ruin it."

  They exited the small office and went to the courtyard where some guards were training or exercising under a cloudy sky. Rithvik glanced up.

  "We better hurry, a thunderstorm is coming," he said, smelling rain in the cool wind.

  "Dylira!" the captain called.

  Rithvik noticed there were a few women among the guards. A freckled redhead wore the bracers Kerrien had noticed the night before at the Heroic Wizard Tavern.

  Dylira had medium length wavy dark brown hair, sallow skin, a pierced lip and a short, lanky build. She responded to her captain's call and stood at attention in front of him.

  "Lieutenant," the captain said. "We might have a new recruit."

  He pointed at Rithvik who met her curious stare without looking away. She had hazel eyes, like Kerrien, but he wasn't really impressed. Surely other men found her pretty, but he'd rather kiss Kerrien again instead of those luscious lips that curved into a smirk.

  "Just coming out of school?" she asked with a low, almost manly voice. "Who taught you?"

  "I doubt you'd know his name," Rithvik answered, unsheathing Kerrien's sword. He weighed the blade – it would have to do. "Hope you'll buy me something better," he told Kerrien who scoffed.

  "Get yourself a job and buy yourself a sword," he retorted.

  Rithvik stuck his tongue out at him. Sometimes Kerrien got on his nerves. He'd prove to him and everybody else that he could handle a sword that wasn't his.

  Dylira attacked first. Even though she was a woman and he was taller, she almost took him by surprise. But soon his teacher's lessons came back to him, and the sword became part of him. It was a lesson like so many others – the sword-master had also been a dashing, handsome man who had populated his dreams for months.

  He noticed that Dylira purposefully allowed her tunic to open on her round breasts, showing her generous cleavage, but he didn't fall for her womanly tricks.

  "Do you really have to show off your breasts to beat your opponents?" he asked, slapping her hand with the flat of his blade so she lost her grip on her weapon's handle.

  She yelped as her sword clanged to the ground and she glared at him, nursing her hand.

  "You're mean!" she grumbled. "Hurting a woman!"

  "A woman who was trying to kill me in a mock duel," he replied bowing and sheathing the sword. He could see why Kerrien had called her lecherous. He didn't like her. "Cover yourself, milady, we don't want the other people who are watching us to lose control, do we?"

  Satisfied, he unbuckled the sword-belt and gave it back to Kerrien who looked impressed.

  "Am I good enough to work with you?" the prince asked with his most dazzling smile.

  Kerrien grunted and nodded – and averted his eyes. Again. Still denying what was between them. Rithvik refrained from sighing in exasperation, but rolled his eyes before turning to the captain.

  "Am I hired? Will you give me a sword?"

  "I'm impressed, young man," the captain said. "Where did you say you learned to fight?"

  "I didn't say. I'm Rithvik of Ker Eziel."

  "Ah!"

  "Oh!"

  The captain and the lieutenant looked surprised, and more guards came closer to see what was going on.

  "What, you heard of him?" Kerrien asked, eager to find news about Rithvik and the spell that had kept him asleep for who knew how long.

  "Legends, rumors... Centuries-old stories..." The captain sighed. "I thought that place was abandoned."

  "It is," Kerrien and Rithvik chorused.

  Rithvik shot an impish smile at Kerrien who looked away with a frown. They even spoke at the same time! Kerrien would have to accept the fact they were meant to be together, sooner or later
. Hopefully sooner.

  "Kerrien freed me from the spell that kept me there," he told the gaping militia that was now surrounding them. "And now we're wandering through the world, looking for work together!"

  Kerrien groaned and hid his face in his hand.

  "Rithvik, shut up!"

  "What? Isn't that what happened?"

  "I didn't know you had magic powers, Kerrien," Dylira mocked him.

  "I don't," Kerrien snapped. "But I think he does. Is Veralie still in town, or did you kick her out?"

  Rithvik frowned at his savior.

  "Who is Veralie?" he demanded. Why was Kerrien still trying to get rid of him?

  "The seductive mage who is associated with allegations of bribery," Kerrien answered bluntly. "She has questionable allies and rumors say that she has some interesting relationships with minor nobility."

  "And that's why we can't really get rid of her," Captain Theodenzo said with a snort. "She's too well protected."

  "Good, then I'll pay her a visit with Rithvik," Kerrien said. "I wouldn't want to plague the town militia with a dangerous legendary prince. Since he's my responsibility, I'll make sure he is innocuous – magic-wise, I mean."

  "Kerrien, I'm not a demon!" Rithvik protested. "I'm not going to hurt anyone unless they try to kill me! Can we get over this? Or should I mention how you woke me up?"

  "Don't you dare!" Kerrien threatened, pointing his index finger at him.

  "You stop trying to get rid of me, and I'll shut up!" Rithvik replied, determined.

  "Wow, I wonder what Braedick would say about this!" Dylira commented with a smirk. "Have you told him, Kerrien? I must admit this guy is much cuter – and younger – than Braedick..."

  Kerrien's knife against her throat shut her up. Rithvik saw her gulp and glare, while thunder rumbled in the background. The sky was gray with heavy clouds ready to pour rain in the courtyard.

  Braedick? Rithvik was happy that for once Kerrien was not mad at him, but who was Braedick? He decided not to ask immediately, not in front of strangers who seemed to know his caretaker better than him. He didn't want to embarrass Kerrien in public, after all.

  "You can start tomorrow morning," Captain Theodenzo said, taking Kerrien's arm away from Dylira's throat. "Leaves you the rest of the afternoon to go looking for Veralie. Where are you sleeping?"

  "The Heroic Wizard," Kerrien answered through clenched teeth, glaring at everybody. "See you tomorrow morning."

  "I might have a hunt for you tomorrow morning, and you can take your apprentice with you," the captain said as Kerrien grabbed Rithvik's wrist and dragged him to the exit of the courtyard and the militia barracks.

  "He's not my apprentice!" Kerrien screamed leaving the building and pushing Rithvik in front of him.

  Oh, boy, he's really furious! Rithvik decided to keep his mouth shut and followed the mercenary through the streets of Cinnae. He thought they were going to the mage's house, but Kerrien led him to a bazaar first. Thunder kept rumbling, but rain hadn't started yet.

  Of the nine stalls, most had weapons. First there was a large cart with gauntlets and helmets piled haphazardly. The owner looked worried and was heavily armed, but Rithvik could see the quality of his goods was as low as the variety. Kerrien didn't stop there.

  The second was a kiosk with a roof and no walls, and had exotic weapons, rings and earrings. The grouchy owner made outlandish claims about the strange round blades he was selling.

  "Those are the weapons of the southern assassins," he assured them. "They throw them and the round blade cuts through bones like butter!"

  "We wouldn't know how to use them," Kerrien replied with a shrug, moving on.

  The permanent structure nearby had pottery and metalworking, but no weapons. Next to it was another permanent structure with ceremonial weapons and axes. The owner was a little drunk and deeply religious – making quick signs before picking up each weapon as if to bless them. The quality was high and the man looked like an enthusiastic haggler, but Kerrien didn't think they needed ceremonial weapons.

  "You need a sword to fight, not to parade," he told Rithvik, who could only agree.

  They passed by a kiosk of dogs, animal feed and riding equipment with a female owner and several connected stalls of blessings and rations. Another seller of helmets had spread his goods on several tables, but the militia would provide the armor if needed, so they kept going.

  Kerrien stopped at the small table with haphazardly-piled goods belonging to a woman who stared suspiciously at them and an elderly man who sneezed often. They had pole-arms and other thrown weapons, but again the quality was below average.

  "I guess we'll have to go to the blacksmith, eventually," Kerrien grumbled, stopping at the ninth stall to get a cup of warm drink as the temperature fell and the thunderstorm hit. They waited under the roof of the several connected stalls until the spring rain subsided a little, then Kerrien stepped out under the drizzle, entered an alley and knocked at another closed door.

  Rithvik hoped it was the blacksmith, but obviously Kerrien hadn't forgotten the mage. The woman who opened the door had dusky skin, large forest-green eyes, long brown-black hair and cute features.

  "Oh, my... Kerrien, is that really you?"

  "Yes, Veralie, nice to see you."

  "It's been... how many years?"

  "I don't know, lost count... may we come in? If you happen to know anything about Rithvik of Ker Eziel it would be greatly appreciated..."

  Rithvik gritted his teeth. Your attempts at getting rid of me are pitiful. But he sat in the mage's living room with her and Kerrien, keeping his mouth shut while his savior told her how he'd found Rithvik.

  The mage's large eyes stared at him in wonder. She leaned forward and took his face in her hands, closing her eyes. Rithvik balled his fists and sat still. He didn't like her touch.

  Veralie sighed, opened her eyes and leaned back.

  "No, Kerrien, I don't feel any magic left in him."

  "But why do I fall asleep when he does and wake up when he does and can't get rid of him?" Kerrien protested.

  Veralie giggled. "Maybe because you like him?"

  Rithvik started to like her. Very much. Please make him fall in love with me! Maybe she knew some love spell – but then, he couldn't ask her in front of Kerrien. He better try to use his old skills again. Although the magic he'd been taught didn't really serve his purpose... or did it?

  "Veralie..." Kerrien glared at her like he'd done with Dylira and even more often with Rithvik.

  "What?" she asked innocently. "I don't see your problem..."

  "My problem is being stuck with a legendary prince who apparently went on a madness rampage and killed his own father!" Kerrien retorted.

  She smiled knowingly. "I can't help you with that," she said. "How long will you stay in town?"

  ***

  "What are you doing?" Kerrien asked, puzzled.

  "Exercises," Rithvik answered without looking at him or breaking his concentration.

  They were in the Heroic Wizard Tavern's room waiting for dinner-time after the visit to Veralie. It had occurred to Rithvik that he knew some enchantments after all, and decided to try one – the repetition of the one that had started his wondrous adventure in the future.

  He played the accompanying music in his head and kept his eyes open, but he wasn't in the tavern's room anymore. He was in the classroom at Ker Eziel, learning to weave spells through dance. He knew his movements looked like a dance and Kerrien wasn't suspicious yet.

  "I'll wait downstairs," Kerrien grumbled since his steps and waving arms often threatened his caretaker's head.

  Rithvik ignored the interruption and continued his ritual dance. That was how he'd conjured Manusia at his father's castle. If he could bring the demon back, surely Manusia would grant him a second wish.

  He remembered now how he'd wished for someone – anyone, really! – to come and save him from his shitty life. He was twenty-two and his father wanted him to pick a bride, o
r he'd choose for him. Except Rithvik didn't want to get married and didn't have the courage to stand up to his father.

  He had no idea of the outcome when he'd started the dance, but then Manusia had materialized in his room and they'd talked, and the beautiful demon had kissed him and...

  Now he could hear drums that played in concert with his heartbeat. The music became faster and he twirled around the small space like a whirligig, almost tripping into the bed. He ended on his knees, panting from the fast pace of the dance and waited, slowly catching his breath.

  Nothing. No dark cloud of magic smoke that turned into the beautiful Manusia. Not a stir in the energy of the room.

  Rithvik huffed, disappointed. Veralie was right. He had lost his magic touch. And Kerrien kept calling him a demon. He couldn't even summon demons anymore! Was it some kind of time problem? In his father's time demons were freer to roam the world and corrupt Humans, and today it was almost impossible to summon them?

  He still had no idea how long he'd slept. His father's kingdom was no more, but then, neither were his neighbors. He'd have seen their castles or have heard of those kings on the way to Cinnae, but nothing seemed to have survived time. Even the Moren Empire was no more.

  Maybe Kerrien was right when he wanted to understand what had happened and how much time had passed. Dancing to perform his magic wasn't going to open a window onto Rithvik's past, though. Or tell him how much time had passed. And he didn't know anyone besides Kerrien in this bright new future.

  He couldn't go to a sorcerer or any other mage or wizard without Kerrien knowing. But then, he didn't really need Manusia's help, since Kerrien hadn't managed to get rid of him yet. Maybe he only needed to be patient. Eventually Kerrien would accept him and even learn to love him.

  Rithvik sighed. Patience wasn't his strong point. When he was a prince. But, like Kerrien liked to remind him, he wasn't a prince anymore. He better learn patience.

  Rithvik rose and went downstairs to eat. Dancing had made him hungry.

  ***

  "You can hold a sword," Kerrien had to admit as they retired to sleep in their room at the Heroic Wizard Tavern. "And you can be nice when you want to."

  "Do you think they'll give us work?" Rithvik asked, taking off Kerrien's spare tunic. He felt Kerrien's eyes on him, but pretended not to. Take a good look, my beautiful warrior. All this can be yours. You only need to ask. He made a complete turn feigning to look for a place to put the tunic in the small room, then looked at Kerrien again. "I mean, we're in the town militia, no?"