"Zeena," muttered Simon, looking around the busy area. "Where are you?"
"What are you looking for, traveler?"
The young man heard the silky smooth voice of a woman behind him. Simon was taken away by how more beautiful she looked up close with her mesmerizing blue eyes that looked like they held the ocean themselves. Now that he was standing much closer to her, Simon could clearly see the trail of light freckles that scattered across her nose.
Simon looked up after realizing he hadn't been watching where he was going. He shook his head, trying to push the memory of Zeena aside. In front of him, though, were a group of six human men and two orcs sitting on the cobbled ground. They played a game called Roll the Orc, which was simple, but usually resulted in someone losing all their money. There are four dice with several different sides each. Five sides have the face of a human, and only two have the face of an orc. The goal is to get three of the four dice orc side up with less than a thirty percent chance that you could succeed.
"May I join you men?" asked Simon, flashing a friendly smile.
"The more the merrier," replied the larger orc. He scooted over, leaving room for the former knight to sit down.
Simon added a small amount of money to the already large pile, but the men shot him a look, causing him to add a lot more. The orc next to him took the small wooden cup from the human man next to him and shook it with the dice inside. He released the four dice towards the center of their circle, all while chanting, "Come on, come on!" Two dice were orc side up, one human, and the other still spinning. It landed human side up, causing everyone to grin widely as they watched the orc disappointedly throw more money in the pot. "Last round for me," he muttered. He gathered up the dice, placed them back inside of the cup, and then handed it to Simon.
Simon had fraud dice in his pocket, not exactly intended for Roll the Orc, but with how intently everyone was staring and how close he was to the orc next to him, Simon knew he would be caught cheating if he could. If he lost this round, he decided he would leave and find an easier game to cheat somewhere else. He took a deep breath as he shook the can. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion once he released the dice. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, silently apologizing to Jenevi for losing so much money right off the bat.
The former knight opened his eyes when he heard a series of groans. When he looked at the dice, all of them were orc side up.
"Good job," said the orc next to him as he patted him on the back.
The loot was gathered up for him in a bag that he carried on his shoulder, and he was thankful that no one started to attack him. That's when he got a better look at the orc who handed him the money. He looked familiar.
"Hey, do I know you?" said the orc, knitting his eyebrows. "Weren't you Zeena's-"
"You must have the wrong guy," said Simon. The orc that he was talking to was non-other than Kir'ko. "This is the first time that I've been to this city." The former knight quickly left, leaving Kir'ko behind to scratch his head. He speed walked through the entire marketplace, but when he turned a corner, walking towards him was Zeena.
She saw him, and a hint of rage flickered through her eyes for a short time until they dissipated into gentle, blue waves. He braced himself for an attack. Jenevi wasn't around to help him out this time.
Zeena sighed. "Simon," she started quietly. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Simon only slightly relaxed.It was then that he questioned why he ever left her.
It was rare that nineteen-year-old Simon became speechless, and encountering Zeena like this for the first time, he was. He didn't know what to say to such a beautiful woman. She stared at him, analyzing him, waiting for his next move like a predator does her prey.
When Simon showed no signs that he was going to say or do anything, Zeena asked, "What interest do you have in me?"
Simon blinked, repeating those words over and over again in his mind. "Wh-what do you mean?"
"I was trained in many techniques starting at the young age of three. One of them has to do with body language. You are obviously interested in me. I'll tell you this now, human. I have no interest in romantic relationships. I have no idea what mission you have here in this city, but you might as well wrap it up quick and leave."
"Do you want to take a walk some time?" Simon completely blocked out everything Zeena had just said.
And for the first time as well, Zeena was speechless. Because of how impressed she was with how he managed to surprise her, Zeena ended up showing Simon all over the Collis City, all while getting to know him.
Simon stayed in the city longer than he intended to. He didn't want to leave Zeena's side, and everyone already acknowledged the two as a couple. And as for orcs, when they are in a relationship, their partner is referred to as maln'ikta, which translates to "my one and only" in English. But unlike humans, orcs rarely have more than one relationship.
After about five months of being with Zeena day in and day out, the half-orc woman was called to go on a dangerous mission, and the day which she would return home was questionable. She was reluctant to leave Simon. She was in love. She didn't want to leave his side, either.
Simon urged her to go, saying that she was the best in her elite group. He was confident that she would return home safe.
But three more months passed, and no word from the group.
Simon was about to leave and find Zeena on his own when he caught word of something he's been waiting to hear. Someone he needed to find. Someone he cared for deeply. Torn between following the tip and finding his lover, Simon finally decided to write a letter to Zeena, explaining why he had to leave. Whatever lay in store for him in the Strongwill City was not what he wanted to bring Zeena into.
And now, years later, the two were face to face once more.
"Can I..." started Zeena. She looked down, took a deep breath, and exhaled before looking back up at Simon. "Can I ask you one thing?"
Simon nodded. "Anything."
"Did you ever love me? Did you feel anything between us?"
Simon's head exploded with answers, but he couldn't pick one out fast enough.
Seeing how long it took him, Zeena scoffed. "I thought you were my maln'ikta. Everyone believed so. You...you human pig. You ruined my life." The young woman let out a shaky sigh before continuing. "Just leave this town." The half-orc had a quiet tone, which terrified Simon even more.
The young man was shocked. He watched her start to walk away, but he finally snapped out of it. He grabbed her arm and forcibly turned her around.
"Hey!" yelled Zeena. She was about to attack him when Simon quickly placed his lips on hers.
Simon pulled away and said, "I still love you. Did you get my letter that day?"
Zeena, still in a daze, asked, "Wh-What letter? What are you-"
Simon quickly kissed her again, and just like that, they were molding into one another, taking in the familiar scent and taste of their former partner.
A few people passed by, staring at the two as they walked away with whispers.
When the couple's lips slowly parted, Zeena kept her eyes closed and whispered, "Why did you leave me?"
Simon rested his head on Zeena's and sighed gently. "It's because of my little sister. When you left for that mission, I got word that she may be in the Strongwill City. I had to go. I couldn't miss that opportunity."
"And did you find her there?" The half-orc stared deep into Simon's pained eyes.
"I did not," he whispered, voice almost breaking.
The two stayed quiet as they held onto each other, not wanting the moment to end.
Finally, Zeena broke the silence by asking, "You're leaving soon, aren't you?"
Simon stepped away. "I have to, my love. But when my mission is complete..." Simon stepped back in front of Zeena, held her hands, and placed one final kiss on her lips. "I will find you, and I will be with you. I will make you my wife. You're my maln'ikta, after all."
Zeena smiled, though her heart felt heavy with sadness, as she watched Simon's figure grow darker in the distance. Her eyes started to water. Her smiled curled downward, her brows knitted tightly together, and she collapsed onto the cobbled ground, sobbing.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Strongwill City buzzed with gossip with the news of King Caden's murder. The king's brother, Gaelen, was pleased. He sat in an almost empty dining room with his wife as the two had their afternoon meal.
"Darling," said Oria once the room was cleared of servants. She pushed the fish around on her plate with her fork. "I hope you realize you're going to be kicked off the high tree soon. No one likes you. I don't even like you. You'll never be king, but I do hope you'll try to at least go down trying, right?" The smug redheaded woman stuck a forkful of food in her mouth.
Gaelen didn't care. He hated Oria probably more than she realized, but he knew she was right. "It doesn't matter what people think. If I get who I need on my side of the table, then I will be king of not just the kingdom, but the whole world. I could be unstoppable. I just need more time to find more Magus."
Oria, not listening to what her husband said, decided to keep entertaining him. "And then what?"
Gaelen smirked. "I will crush their spirits and make them mine." He glanced over at his wife and noticed she wasn't paying attention. "I haven't shown you my recent project, my dear."
The redheaded woman looked up at Gaelen almost excitedly. "What did you bring this time?"
"Raya will make her appearance shortly. The maids are cleaning the blood off of her." Gaelen let out a soft chuckle. "But on another note, Zander and Harold should be arriving in a few days. I think we should have a large feast for their arrival."
Oria scoffed. "Do you honestly believe they would even care about the feast after hearing the news?"
The king's brother looked at his wife, confused at first, before letting out a loud laugh. "Oh, my dear! I couldn't care less what they think. I just want an excuse to have a feast, is all. By Slarin's name, I thought you would have known me better by now."
His wife rolled her eyes before resuming her meal.
The servant's door opened wide. Two maids entered the room, both standing up straight and walking in unison with their hands clasped gently in front of them. Another female came in after the two maids. She was stunning, which caused Oria to narrow her eyes. Cuts and bruises aside, the woman had dark brown skin, what appeared to be silver hair and bright gray eyes. Her hands were bound with handcuffs. Once she entered the room, behind her came two guards who stood planted by the door.
"Raya, come here," demanded Gaelen. "The rest of you, leave us."
The servants and guards nodded their heads before leaving the room one by one. One of the guards shut the door behind them.
"And who is this?" questioned Oria. She stood up slowly as Raya approached. The dark woman had a powerful aura to her.
"This, my dear, is a Terrae Magus, and a very powerful one. She was the leader of a small colony near the Triway Mountains. A couple of followers and I raided their pathetic enclosure. I had Terrence fashion her power suppressant chains. His nullifying magic has indeed come in handy."
"I hope you rot," spat Raya. Her gray eyes glowed brightly momentarily before fading. "You killed my people. You killed our children. My children!"
"Hush now, dear," whispered Oria as she squeezed the prisoner's cheeks and forced the Terrae's eyes to lock with her's. "You'll be one of us soon."
Oria's blue eyes illuminated as she stared down Raya.
"It can't be...What kind of Magus are you?" whispered Raya, suddenly feeling weak. She couldn't break Oria's stare.
The redheaded woman's lips curled into a smirk. "I'm the first of my kind, Terrae. A Memoria Magus."
Raya gasped for breath as her head felt like it would explode. Oria entered her brain. The Terrae Magus could feel her roaming around, changing things.
Gaelen sipped his tea calmly as he watched.
After a few moments, Raya collapsed on the ground.
Oria sat back down and sighed. "I'm not going to lie...this is getting more and more tiring for me. After that incident..." Oria shuddered and rubbed the back of her head. "I've been feeling weak since."
"Don't worry," reassured Gaelen. "You're probably feeling a little self-conscious since you weren't successful that day."
His wife snarled. "I'm always supposed to be successful. But it's not like it was my fault."
Raya slowly got up and took in her surroundings. Once she eyed Gaelen, she nodded her head and asked, "Is there anything I can get for you, my lord?"
Gaelen smiled. "See, Oria? Nothing to worry about."
Zander and Harold arrived at the Strongwill City. When their horses galloped to the front gates, they realized something was off. The Strongwill banners were all turned upside down, which only meant one thing in any "What's the meaning of this?" Asked Zander as he looked down at one of the guards.
The guard lowered his head. "I'm so sorry, my lord. While you were away, your father was murdered.
"Murdered?" yelled Harold, outraged. "By who?"
"By...by Verdin, of the Shining City, your grace."
"Let us in this instant!" Demanded the prince.
Once the gates raised, the two horses raced inside. All of the shops were closed, and the number of citizens on the street was scarce. They rode to the city's square where all the events took place. In this case, it was a funeral for the king.
The people were packed, all paying their respects. Some cried while others hung their head solemnly. Caden was a great king. One who listened to all the people while placing the correct judgment on those who have done wrong.
On top of the platform sat a casket surrounded by wood. Harold and Zander sat on their horses and watched as one of the guards took a burning torch and lit the king on fire.
Zander's eyes shifted to the other side of the platform where Gaelen and his wife stood. They stared at the fire without the slightest look of remorse on their faces. The young prince knew they had something to do with the king's death. He never trusted him or his wife. Not even Harold trusted him. But what proof did they have?
As if Gaelen knew his nephew was watching, the older man turned his gaze towards the crowd and the two locked eyes. Gaelen smiled.
"I'm going back to the castle, uncle," stated Zander as he turned his horse around.
Harold nodded but didn't move. He thought of the king as his brother and decided to stay until the end of the Burning.
Once Zander reached the castle, he ran into Luke, the stronghold's Captain of the Guards.
"Your majesty-" started Luke.
"Tell me what happened!" cried Zander.
Luke let out everything. About how they let Verdin in without a second thought because of close he was to the king, about how one of the guards left to fetch bows and arrows for them, and how he came back to find Verdin stabbing Caden.
"That's...that's not like Verdin...I've known Verdin for years..." Zander began to calm down slowly. "I just don't understand."
"None of us do," responded Luke. He apologized, saying he had to go down to the square to help collect the king's ashes. He asked Zander if he wanted to go as well, but the prince shook his head.
Zander rushed inside. The halls were empty for the most part, save the guards keeping watch of the hold. "Make way," he ordered one of the guards that stood in front of Gaelen's room.
"I cannot do that, my lord. I am under direct orders-"
"I am your new king. You listen to me."
The guard silently nodded his head before he stepped out of the way. Without hesitation, Zander rushed into the room.
He ransacked the place, looking for anything that would prove he was right, and that Gaelen was the reason for his father's death.
He looked down at the giant burn mark that sat in the middle of the carpeted floor. He remembered asking about it when
he was younger and was told that it was a flame from a candle that was, fortunately, let out before it got worse.
Tired of searching, the prince turned his gaze towards the window. He couldn't find anything, but he couldn't help but think about the strange woman whom he helped by the Forest of Despair.
Jenny, he thought longingly, recalling her beautiful face and long hair.
"Find what you were looking for?" Gaelen's voice echoed throughout the room. He sounded calm, as if he knew his nephew's intentions.
This made the prince all the more furious.
"I know it was you," hissed Jerrin as he turned around to face his uncle. "You've always been a slithering snake. I've never trusted you."
"You obviously don't know me very well, my dear boy. I am not behind the murder of your father's death. And how could I have been? It was Verdin who drove his knife into the king, not I. You have searched my room without permission. Destroyed it, if I may add. What have you found? Nothing? That's because there is nothing to look for-"
"There has to be something!" Shouted Zander. He stormed passed his uncle, giving him a menacing glance. Before walking out the door, the prince stopped and stared at the back of Gaelen's head. "I will get to the bottom of this, Gaelen. I will find out what sneaky crimes you're behind."
Gaelen listened to the sound of his nephew's retreating footsteps. He frowned deeply, but then laughed. "He has his mother's personality."
He walked to his large ebony desk and opened the large central drawer. Inside were a bunch of papers that Zander had noticeably ransacked. He moved the papers aside and felt around for a small opening. He used his dirty fingernail to pry open the secret compartment. Inside contained one small letter. A letter from the king's former lover, a commoner. A letter that never made it to the king. A letter, explaining that there is a child out there who was the first heir to the throne.
Zander's coronation happened quickly. Instead of a joyous celebration, it was a time of mourning. Zander kept his head low and avoided the public for a while and decided it would be best to present himself formally when the time deemed appropriate. The new king was busy all day. All of a sudden he had papers nearly flying at him left and right, but he was grateful his father prepped him as a young boy.
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