Cinder Reign: The Midnight Flame: A Sword & Sorcery Fantasy Adventure

by Vinn Winters

  A gasp from behind her made her cringe lightly.

  “That is most certainly not how I am,” Aldrean whispered defensively.

  “It’s close enough from what I’m told,” Vyra argued softly.

  “Hmm, that is indeed Aldrean’s behavior,” Orbit said with a loud huff. “Orbit the Omnipotent would have been convinced if those words came from Aldrean himself. Though Orbit is does not long to hear Aldrean’s voice; Orbit could recognize it from across a ballroom. It’s unmistakable, a voice that would befit a funeral better than a tavern. Orbit is not fooled by such blatant deception!”

  “My voice does not befit a funeral!” Aldrean hissed quietly, while glaring at the door.

  The pounding on the door grew louder.

  “Tell me what you have done with the philandering paladin or Orbit will be forced to break down this door!” the gnome warlord yelled.

  Witch’s Blight! How am I going to convince him that everything is okay? Vyra thought. An effective fighter does not continue to try the same tactic if it is failing. I need to change my strategy… but to what?

  Another thought came to her mind. Vyra swallowed hard, and then took a deep breath.

  “I’m so-o-o-o sorry, milord. I knew that ruse wouldn’t work on a mind as clever as yours,” Vyra said, straining to make her voice sound as giddy as possible. “Lord Aldrean is resting right now, after all the — doing all the acts I just said. I don’t want to wake him, so I was hoping you would give him a little more time to rest before coming back.”

  The pounding on the door stopped.

  “Hmm. Your voice is quite soothing, milady,” Orbit said. “It sounds of much higher quality than the cattle Aldrean normally herds up to his bedroom. Orbit is impressed by Aldrean’s improving standards!”

  Vyra paused, unsure whether to receive that as a compliment or an insult. A quick glance at Aldrean told her what he thought of it.

  “Very well. Orbit the Omnipotent is generous and does not want to come between Aldrean and his own self-betterment. Orbit will return later.”

  The clanking of metal fading into the distance told them both that the gnome had left. Vyra let out a loud sigh of relief.

  “Thank you,” Aldrean said, sounding almost grateful.

  “Happy to help,” Vyra said warmly.

  A few moments passed between them.

  “Did you really mean what you said, that you’ll take me on as my squire? It was not just a cruel joke?” Vyra asked, anxiously clinging to every word.

  A few more moments passed, to Vrya it felt like much longer.

  “Lord Aldrean?” she pressed.

  “Yes, yes. I’ll take you as my squire. I gave you my word, didn’t I? An honorable knight always holds true to his word,” Aldrean replied quickly.

  “Thank you, milord!” Vyra said, with a broad smile. “I can better help you with your memories and talking to people as your squire. For now, we need to figure out what to do about—”

  “We can discuss it later,” Aldrean said, moving back towards his bed. “For now, please… if what you’re saying is true, I need some time to think… to process all of this.”

  “Okay, alright. Take all the time you need,” Vyra said reluctantly. She waited a few more moments to see if Aldrean would change his mind, and then quietly exited the room.

  ~

  “I hope this is sturdy enough… and comfortable enough,” Eygodon whispered solemnly as he tightened the last ribbon of cloth around Brielle’s limp body.

  Gently lifting her up, he stared down into her empty eyes.

  You always had personality — this aura of strength about you — so fierce and unwavering, he thought, cringing to fight down rising emotion, yet in my arms right now… you look so fragile.

  He carefully fastened her back against his, and then tied the loose cloth around his waist.

  “I’ll bring you back yet, little nymph,” Eygodon said. “We’ve still got a whole realm to conquer.”

  With Brielle safely tucked against his back, the warlock continued north along the murky beach.

  ~

  I’m grateful Lord Aldrean has accepted me as his squire… but in the state that he’s in, I’m not sure how much can be done to help his position or mine, Vyra thought as she walked down the stairs. I have to find a way to fix this.

  Vyra was halfway back to the Great Hall in Brightmeadow Manor when she saw two city guards running by. The soldiers were clad their full armor, even the metal visors on their helmets were down. The armor of the Beckonthrone soldiers paled in comparison to the elaborate armor of Brightmeadow’s Silverclad Knights, but it was still quite impressive.

  Beckonthrone guards in Brightmeadow Manor… I wonder what they’re doing here. They seem to be in a rush too, Vyra observed curiously.

  Her mind quickly returned to her dilemma with the paladin.

  Maybe if I visit The Midnight Wolf again and explain the situation, he’ll give me a cure for—Vyra thought, hesitating as she remembered how Aldrean had been before he drank the elixir.

  Or at least perhaps a remedy that doesn’t return him to exactly as he was before.

  Vyra’s gaze shifted to the hallway walls. Brightmeadow Manor was one of the most exquisite buildings outside of Aeroma Palace. Brightly colored banners lined every hallway; each displaying a sword and shield with a hawk flying beneath the crown, the famed crest of the Silverclad Knights. There were benches and chairs against the wall, all of only the finest wood; that Vyra had never been permitted to use, only clean. Perhaps it would be different now that she was a squire.

  I was lucky making it through The Scarred Forest unharmed, Vyra admitted to herself. That robed woman and her golem, they let me pass the first time. If I encountered them a second time, would they allow it again? Maybe if I explained the situation, they’d understand. Wait, even before the forest… there’s the problem of the guards at the city gate. I don’t know if Maek’s strategy would work a second time, but there has to be a way to—

  Vyra heard the clanking of metal behind her, and she turned just in time to see the same two guards. Each one roughly seized one of her arms, holding tightly.

  “Hey! What’s going on? I’m a servant of Brightmeadow Manor, release me at once!” Vyra protested.

  “Spare us your excuses; you thieving rogue!” one of the guards snapped.

  “What are you talking about?” Vyra said with confusion.

  “Silence! Prisoners have no right to speak,” the other guard barked.

  “Why am I a prisoner?” Vyra shot back. “I haven’t done anything!”

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t live up to my disappointment,” a familiar stern, cold voice said from behind her, “but you had to go and prove me right.”

  The guards whirled Vyra around to face Lady Amberleen, the Head Housekeeper of Brightmeadow Manor. Lady Amberleen’s brown hair was always pulled back into a tight bun; her face accurately warned of her intentions to condemn ruthlessly.

  “What do you mean? You gave me until sunset to leave!” Vyra said.

  “Yes. That was before I found out that you were stealing from our manor,” Lady Amberleen said. Her lips curled into a cruel smile as she held up a golden candelabrum. “We found this in your room. I could tell by your increasingly unstable actions that you knew you didn’t belong here, dear. But I had hoped that you would not stoop to such deplorable actions as common thievery. I should have known better than to allow scum from the streets to work for such a fine establishment.”

  “But I didn’t take anything!” Vyra protested. “That was not in my room.”

  “Well, I found it in there myself. So I guess it’s the word of the highest staff in the entire manor against that of… a common thief,” Amberleen said with a sneer.

  Vyra winced as she felt a squeeze in the grip of the guards.

  “I didn’t steal that and you know it,” Vyra said, glaring at the head housekeeper.

  “What I know, is that you’ll be spending the rest of
your days rotting in the dungeon where you belong. If you ever do see the light of day again, that pretty face of yours will be old and withered. You should have left the manor when you had the chance, dearie.”

  “I didn’t do it!” Vyra shouted. She struggled to escape, but the guards maintained their hold.

  “Remove this lowlife from my sight,” Amberleen said with a flick of her wrist.

  Then Vyra was being dragged through the hallways, towards the manor exit.

  “I didn’t do it!” Vyra yelled, trying to pull free, but her efforts were in vain, she was strong but the knights were stronger.

  “Sure you didn’t,” the guard on her left said with a mocking tone.

  “It’s just her word against mine! She has no proof!” Vyra argued.

  “Her word is enough. The word of a servant girl isn’t worth dirt,” said the guard on her right.

  “But she’s lying!”

  “Well, maybe if you hadn’t been stealing, you would be on her good side then,” said the guard to her left with a snide chuckle.

  “Let me go!” Vyra screamed.

  “Sure thing, as soon as we get to the dungeons,” said the guard on her right, “you’ll finally have a place where you belong.”

  Three more Beckonthrone guards approached them at the manor entrance. The guard in the middle was taller and had noticeably fancier armor that even came with a cloak; he had long black hair, a strong, hard face that looked like it had seen a war or two, and a resting glare so intense Vyra wagered it could melt an unlit candle.

  “Let’s hurry this along. I’ve got more important matters elsewhere. Is this the thief?” the tall guard asked impatiently.

  “It is indeed. Mouthy one at that too,” the guard on Vyra’s right said.

  “I didn’t steal anything!” Vyra pleaded.

  “That’s what they all say,” the tall guard replied as he quickly scratched his broad jawline. “Now listen here, I’m not repeating myself. I’m Radek, the Captain of the Guard of Beckonthrone. So… if you shut your damn mouth, we might be merciful and give you some damp hay to sleep on instead of the cold brick floor.”

  Vyra stared at Radek, her jaw hanging open.

  “Glad we have an understanding,” Radek said with a huff, then looked at the guards holding her. “Let’s haul her out of here; I got a game of cards I’d like to play tonight.”

  The other guards simultaneously chuckled, a sound that was quickly drowned out by a shrill “Hey!” that echoed down the corridor.

  “What is going on here?” a wonderfully familiar voice reached Vyra’s ears. She turned to see Sister Clevora rushing down the hall towards them. Clevora had watched over Vyra and Maek since she first found them on the streets as children and brought them to Brightmeadow Manor. Sister Clevora was the closest thing Vyra had ever had to a mother.

  “What is the meaning of this, why are you heckling my girl? You unhand her immediately or I’ll hit you with that fancy metal bucket you’re wearing until your own wife won’t even recognize you with it off!” Sister Clevora snapped. The guards around Vyra visibly tensed. Clevora was as large as one of the guards, including their armor; and was probably as strong too.

  “Who do you think you are, telling us what to do? We are sentinels of Beckonthrone, soldiers of the crown!” the guard to Vyra’s right shouted.

  “Soldiers of the crown? Hah! I see four piles of orc dung dressed up in melded cutlery!” Sister Clevora shot back, “I am clergy, a priestess serving The High Priestess Willow. You would dare talk down to me?”

  The guards straightened their posture. It was obvious none of them had suspected Clevora to be a priestess. No one ever did.

  “She’s pretty rude for a priestess,” the guard on Vyra’s right whispered to her left.

  “A priestess is supposed to nurture the faith of our kingdom through healing and guidance,” Sister Clevora growled. “And I’m willing to guide my fist into your stupid face as many times as it takes to heal that mouth of yours.”

  “I’m sorry, priestess. Please forgive my offense,” the guard on Vyra’s right replied meekly.

  “We did not know you were a priestess. Please accept our apology,” Radek quickly added, after shooting a quick glare at the embarrassed soldier.

  “I will, as soon as you release my friend here,” Sister Clevora said with a glare.

  “I’m sorry, we can’t do that. Our request for aid came straight from Lady Amberleen. You’ll have to take it up with her,” Radek replied politely.

  “Well, you’re taking it up with me now,” Sister Clevora snapped, “and I say you release her!”

  “That’s not your call to make,” Radek replied firmly. “Like I said, you’ll have to take it up with the Head Housekeeper.”

  “Oh I plan on it,” Sister Clevora said, running a hand through her blond hair, “but see to it that she is treated well or you will have to deal with me. I’ve seen dogs treated with more dignity. You all should be ashamed of yourselves for—”

  “—doing their duty,” Lady Amberleen interjected as she approached from behind. “I had a slight worry that there might be a misunderstanding. You see, Sister, stolen valuables were found hidden in her room. Expensive valuables. You knew Vyra was determined to rise in status, and now we all know how far she was willing to go to reach that end.”

  Sister Clevora paused for a moment, staring at Vyra with a confused expression, but then turned back to Lady Amberleen. Vyra wanted to shout, to scream how she was being falsely accused; but the look Sister Clevora gave her had stolen the air from her lungs. A look that, beneath the blatant worry in Sister Clevora’s face, there was a moment that she thought it might be true.

  “You cannot possibly believe that Vyra would do such a thing!” Sister Clevora said, snapping back to the moment. “It’s not in her character to commit an act like that!”

  “Oh, I think I’m quite aware of her character,” Lady Amberleen sneered. “Now I’ve wasted enough time on this worthless vermin. Put her in the dungeon, she’ll finally be at home with her fellow rats.”

  “No, I didn’t do it!” Vyra’s voice returned to her.

  It made no difference. Vyra felt herself being dragged towards the manor entrance. She struggled, straining her body against the pull, but still lost ground.

  “Stop, you can’t do this!” Sister Clevora shouted, she moved towards the entrance to stand in the way, but stopped after a ring of metal chimed about the area. The captain of the guard had drawn his sword, the blade now pointed at Sister Clevora’s chest.

  “You wouldn’t dare strike a holy priestess,” Sister Clevora said with a glare.

  “For the crown,” Radek snarled, “I’d do many things.”

  “Please don’t—don’t hurt her!” Vyra shouted.

  “Don’t you worry about me, Vrya,” Sister Clevora said as she stared down the captain’s blade. “I can hold my own.”

  “Do you care to test that claim?” Radek added, pushing the tip of his blade lightly against the sister’s chest. “Careful, wench… standing in my way is a crime.”

  “You can’t do this—you won’t get away with this!” Vyra spat.

  “Indeed I can,” Lady Amberleen replied, crossing her arms with a look of triumph, “and another word from you and your accomplice Sister Clevora will be joining you.”

  “Well how about a word from me then?” Aldrean said, as he approached from around a corner.

  “Lord Aldrean!” the guards said in unison. Every soldier except Radek turned to the Paladin then quickly fell to one knee.

  “Remain as you are,” Aldrean said sternly to the guards as he walked over to Vyra.

  “Have they hurt you?” Aldrean asked Vyra, his tone so soft only she heard him.

  “No,” Vyra said, catching her breath. “I’m alright.”

  Her response brought a faint smile to the paladin’s face.

  “Your Grace,” Sister Clevora said, falling to her knees in front of Aldrean. “Please! Show mercy on
Vyra! She’s a good servant; she really does her best to help around the manor. I’ve seen it myself! She’s—”

  “Lord Aldrean, how noble and merciful of you to extend your kindness to even the lowest of the people,” Lady Amberleen said, her smooth voice entwined with a twisted confidence. “But your generosity is wasted on this one. She’s a thief, nothing more.”

  “You must be mistaken,” Aldrean said, raising an eyebrow. “Vyra would never do such a thing. She must be the victim of an act of trickery.”

  “No trickery, milord. She stole this for coin,” Amberleen added firmly as she held up the candleholder. “She cannot be trusted.”

  “I doubt it is something she would have done. If she wanted the candelabra, she merely needed to ask me for it.”

  “Come again?” Amberleen blurted. She squinted as she tilted her head in confusion. “Milord… please forgive me for asking,” the housemistress continued. “But why would you just give her the candelabra?”

  “I would assume she needs lighting for her studies. She is my squire after all.”

  Several of the guards lost their balance. Sister Clevora gasped softly. The blood swiftly drained from Amberleen’s face.

  Vyra had never seen Lady Amberleen truly lose composure, and most certainly had never seen the Head Housekeeper’s eyes that wide.

  “I beg your pardon. She’s your… what?” Amberleen asked. Vyra could have sword she saw the Head Housekeeper’s eye twitch.

  “It is not hard to follow. Vyra is my appointed squire,” Aldrean stated.

  Sister Clevora gasped again.

  “Lord Aldrean, surely you jest!” Amberleen said with laughter so forced it was shrill.

  “I do not jest about such topics,” Aldrean stated.

  “Milord, why would you have this… person as your squire?” Amberleen replied slowly, each word sounding painfully spoken.

  “She is my squire. Hear this as my declaration,” Aldrean said.

  “Lord Aldrean, please see reason, she is not—” Lady Amberleen began.

  “Are you questioning my decision?” Aldrean asked sharply.