Wordan's face crumbled, and he frowned but nodded. “True—that.”
“But Father, perhaps he can still assist you,” Mordora insisted, but Lorrek shook his head.
“My skills would best be served here—out of the way of all others and out of sight. Many people believe I am dead.”
“Yet surely you can alter your appearance.”
Lorrek gave Wordan a quizzical look when the king suggested this, and then the sorcerer looked between father and daughter with creased brows and then laughed. “Aye, I can do that, Sire, but to do so would require magic, and again, that is forbidden.” He brought his hand to his chest. “And I wish to remain within the bounds of our agreement.”
Wordan sighed and noticed his constable motioning that they had to leave, and he nodded to the man then looked at Prince Lorrek. “Very well. You may stay here, but Mordora, I'm placing you under protection of a guardian.” Mordora opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off with a harsh look then snapped his fingers. “Guardian Jadkon.”
An older man stepped out of the ranks of the soldiers, and Lorrek regarded him. He stood tall, and his large frame reminded Lorrek of Theran; however, this man came to attention before the king with sharp discipline, and everything in his eyes, face, and body spoke of a man unwavering from his duties.
Lorrek hid a smirk. Jadkon would be fun to rattle, but King Wordan spoke, and Lorrek listened. “Guardian Jadkon, I am placing Princess Mordora and Prince Moren under your protection. You are to watch over them and protect them with every fiber of your being. If any harm befalls them, it is you who will answer.”
The guardian nodded. “I understand, Your Majesty. I shall protect them with my life.” He crossed a fist over his chest and bowed.
Mordora looked over Jadkon's bent back to Lorrek, and she saw the glint of mischievousness in his eyes. She narrowed her eyes at him to get the message across, “Cause him no harm or grief.”
“Ah, but you take all the fun out of life, Princess.” A voice—suspiciously like Lorrek's—whispered in her mind, almost like a thought of her own, but she knew the thought was not hers. Her eyes widened, and she heard a tsking sound in her mind. “Now, now, don't show your surprise. Someone will suspect something, and what explanation will you give—magic? I doubt that would be an acceptable explanation.”
Mordora quickly schooled her expression, making it appear neutral but darted her gaze around to see if anyone had noticed the shift. She then locked eyes with Lorrek and tried to send a thought of her own. “How...what is this?”
His laughter rang in her mind. “Magic, of course—what else?”
“But how?” Even then she already knew the answer, and she sensed he caught those stray thoughts as well. Stomping down her frustration with his ability to be one step ahead of her at all times, she sent him another hard look. “We should really not communicate this way. A magic minder might hear.”
“Then stop.” He thought to her with a teasing smile on his face.
Mordora almost exhaled with exasperation, but she caught herself just in time as her father turned to her with last minute instructions.
“And Mordora, you will be expected to meet the High Court every morning in my absence while I am gone. Perhaps Prince Lorrek can counsel you in any difficult matters.” Wordan gestured toward Lorrek, who smiled and stood proud.
Mordora only slid him a glare. “Some reason I doubt that.”
“You doubt my ability in the court?” Lorrek pulled a hurt look on his face the moment Wordan turned away from him, and Mordora's eyes only hardened. Lorrek laughed in her head but only wore a smirk outwardly. “I swear, Princess, I have nothing but good will for Nirrorm. It is my haven. Why would I seek its harm?” His smile finally faded, and Mordora sensed the truth behind his words and in his eyes.
Still, she didn't want to give in that easily. “You've always been the lying one, Lorrek. Even now you cause me to deceive my father.”
“Would you rather your secret be known?” His voice hardened. “I can tell him—right now, right here.”
Mordora sensed him lifting the veil concealing her magic, and she panicked. “No!” Wordan and all the others turned to her taken back by her exclamation, and she blinked, realizing she had spoken aloud. Blushing, she ducked her head and approached her father. Embracing him, she whispered in his ear, “Be safe and come back.” She pulled back and gave him a sad smile.
He smiled back and squeezed her hand. “I shall. Keep your brother safe.” With that, he placed a hand on Moren—who had yet to leave his side—and steered him to Mordora, who placed her hands on his shoulders and turned him back to face their father.
Wordan knelt before his son and brushed away his dark hair then pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Listen to your sister, and don't go off on your own. Be wary of Prince Lorrek.”
Moren looked up at the visiting prince, who offered him a smile upon eye contact, but then he looked back at his father and bobbed his head.
Rising his to his feet, Wordan nodded to Mordora. “We'll be back in a few days.” He bade his children goodbye then turned and marched away with his men falling into step.
Mordora and Moren watched their father go. Jadkon stood nearby like a solid shadow—silent but ever-watching. Lorrek glanced between father, daughter, and son, then to the guardian and tossed him a smirk when they made eye contact. Jadkon remained expressionless, but this only made Lorrek's grin grow larger.
7
The following few days, Lorrek's first line of business was to make Guardian Jadkon's job as difficult as possible, and he did it with a grin. He couldn't teach Mordora and Moren magic with the guardian lingering around, so he conjured a life-like projection of the prince and princess while at the same time cloaking the real individuals. Mordora stared wide-eyed as Jadkon went off trailing after the apparitions, but Moren laughed.
“I thought you said non-magic users couldn't see magic.” Mordora shot Lorrek a glare, but he shook his head.
“There is much you don't understand about magic, Your Highness.” When he saw that her scowl didn't lessen, he laughed it off as he led them back to the abandoned ballroom. “What else would you have me do? Invite him along for our little lessons? Oh yes, that would go over quite well. 'Guardian Jadkon, do not worry. We're just lying to dear old papa about magic, and everyone who has magic is still using it. Not to mention that his beloved son and daughter have magical abilities.'” Lorrek shook his head after his impersonation and flashed Mordora a grin. “I do not think that will go well.”
For a long moment she continued to glare, but she finally folded her arms. “As long as you don't fool him too much.”
The smirk returned to Lorrek's face. “Of course not, Your Highness.”
“Prince Lorrek, how do you do it?” Moren looked up at him, eyes bright with excitement as they stepped into the old ballroom. “Does he really think we're there? How can you focus on two things at once?”
“Oh, it's practice, my dear boy—practice makes everything perfect.” Lorrek glanced up to Mordora then reached out a hand to both siblings. “Now, shall we begin our lesson?” As they drew near to him, he brushed his mind over them and found their magic locked away. It sparked at his touch, but he withdrew and fixed his gaze on them. “Since both of you have concealed your magic for such a long time, and since you fear it, it will not respond to you quickly. But it does respond to me.” Lifting his hand, he snapped his fingers and conjured a fiery blue orb.
Moren stared transfixed at the blue flame. “How did you do that?” He shifted his wide eyes to Lorrek's face. “Can I do it?”
The prince of Cuskelom nodded. “Aye, but first, sit.” He extinguished the flame then motioned for both of them to sit on the floor as he lowered himself down and sat crossed-legged.
Gripping his knees, he observed them—recognizing Mordora's deep-rooted hesitation and Moren's excitement. “In order for you to command magic at will, you must first learn to hear its call. It speaks to you in everything—and in
everyone.” He placed his hand on the floor and tapped his finger on the stone. “Even now, these stones whisper the tales of the past to me. Each stone contains memories of every moment since the construction of this room...” Then he paused, and a frown pulled the corner of his lips down as he lifted his hand from the stone. “As well as its time as part of the mountain before men carved it out and brought it here.”
Shaking his head, he lifted his gaze to the rest of this room—to the pillars, the windows, the walls, and ceiling. “Everything contains a memory, but only those with magic can unlock those memories. Now, let us begin our lesson. In order for you to access your magic more fully, I must first unlock it. For me to do that, you must trust me.” He shifted his gaze between the siblings. “Do you trust me?”
“No.” Mordora crossed her arms and scowled at the dark-haired prince, causing Lorrek to smile—unsurprised by her words.
“Well, Princess, you have no choice—not really.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Then why bother asking?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I like to give people the illusion that they have a deciding factor in events. They tend to be more cooperative when they are given a choice.”
“But if our magic isn't unlocked, how were we able to use magic earlier when we saw Mama in this room?” Moren leaned toward Lorrek, wanting to devour every word he said.
“In a large part, you were borrowing my magic. However, even with your magic locked away, small parts of it come to you instinctively. I will unlock it for you.”
Moren frowned. “Will it hurt?”
Lorrek smiled. “Absolutely,” although he knew that wasn't true. He enjoyed watching the siblings' eyes widen with fear, but he dismissed it all from his mind. “Now, close your eyes...and don't flinch.”
“Don't what—”
Lorrek dove into the realm of magic and latched onto their minds. In this realm, he saw the fortified walls against their powers that wrapped around their minds and auras—solid, only the slightest fracture of curiosity ran through these walls. He respected them for their determination to conceal their powers—their fear if it were revealed.
However, as he touched the walls, their magic passed through the barriers as if they did not exist. It flowed to him like strands of flowing light—shy at first and cautious, but overwhelmingly curious and striving for attention and freedom. Like a little animal finally finding a friend, it wrapped around his fingers and hands in a playful manner, and Lorrek smiled, beholding such unblemished power. His own power extended from his fingertips to intertwine with Moren and Mordora's magic, and he saw how much darker his magic was compared to theirs.
He sighed, knowing once he unlocked their powers, their magic would only darken as his had. Only the users of pure magic in Athorim knew the key to keeping their powers untainted, yet Lorrek knew he could not allow the great potential he saw in the siblings to remain imprisoned.
Bending their powers to his will—and ignoring the soft plea for him to control it instead—he separated the magic and gently placed it back into the hands of Moren and Mordora. “There.” He watched as they straightened and sucked in a breath, as if breathing for the first time.
A smile touched his lips, but he wasn't finished yet. Within the realm of magic, he passed his hand through their mind and eyes, aligning the strands of magic just right. “Now...open your eyes.” When they did so, he saw them look at him, startled by the glowing aura around him, and then glanced at their own hands to see the glow surrounding them. They took in the room, seeing glimpses and whispers of the past.
Lorrek sat back on his heels. “Welcome to the realm of magic. Here, time passes differently. Material barriers and space no longer hinders you. Though your physical body will stay where you last were, you can travel throughout the world with only a thought. And once you have mastered your magic, you will be able to use your power to teleport your body to any place you desire. For now though, relax. Think of a memory—draw on it and bring it to life, much like I showed you earlier.”
Mordora and Moren shared a look, and a single thought passed between them. “Mother.”
Moren squeezed his eyes shut and willed his mother to appear before him. Snapping his eyes open, he looked around but didn't find her. With shoulders slouched, and head hung low, he shot Lorrek a glare. “What am I doing wrong?”
“You can't demand her presence—cannot conjure a person at will, but you can draw on her memory. Think of a moment with her.” When Moren closed his eyes, Lorrek tsked his tongue and shook his head. “Open your eyes. Observe how it works. Now think—think of a memory.”
With eyes now open, Moren forced himself to sit still then took a deep breath and reflected on one of the few memories he had of her. As he remembered her, he saw sparkling silver specks floating in the air around him—trying to come together but unable to stay combined. Moren looked through the magical dust at Lorrek. “What is wrong?”
Lorrek considered the specks. To him, magic came easily, and this was the easiest trick of all, but through all his mastery of magic, he had forgotten the basic steps because they had become so ingrained in him that they were now instinctive. Observing this now gave him an appreciation for all he knew, but he sought to find the very next step Moren needed to bring the molecules together. It would be too easy for Lorrek to reach out and conjure the image of their mother, but that would teach them nothing.
Restraining himself, Lorrek guided him—noting how Mordora's brows were furrowed in concentration as though she too tried to help her brother. “Think—remember clearly. Have no doubts of the memory.”
“But what if it is not true to the memory?” Mordora's query caused Lorrek to glance her way, and he smiled at her.
“It won't be. It will be in the setting of a memory, but she will be able to converse with you as you are now—not as you were then. Don't be afraid. Let it happen.” He then allowed himself to fade from their view. They would depend on him less if they forgot he was there.
Mordora tried to keep in mind Lorrek's presence, but as soon as he disappeared from sight, she forgot he was there. She turned to her brother. “What memory did you choose?”
With his small brows still bent in intense focus as he watched the glowing specks, he replied, “That time when it snowed, and Mama snuck us outside to make snowmen. Remember how she used her magic to make it easier, and afterwards we came into the kitchen to have hot soup? Papa never found out about that night. He was away at the time.”
She nodded, recalling the memory. Under the cloak of night and starlight, the three of them had snuck out of the palace into the garden courtyard. In the moonlight and the glowing white snow, Mordora helped Moren build a snowman, but when they stood back, with a gesture of her hand their mother crafted it into a strikingly realistic man made of snow.
Moren laughed out of glee, but then a snowball landed on the side of his face. He stared, stunned, but saw his mother gathering up another snowball as she grinned. He smiled wildly but ducked when she threw it at him. He scooped up a handful of snow, pressed it together into a ball, and threw it at her.
She yelped as she twisted to dodge it while at the same time she threw her snowball at Mordora, hitting her on the back.
Mordora spun around in surprise and saw both her brother and mother gathering snow for themselves—grinning, red-cheeked. Narrowing her eyes, Mordora scooped up snow and waited to see who would attack whom first.
“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.
Someday I'll Be Redeemed Page 7