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

by Vinn Winters

  “Of course not, milord. I would never—” Lady Amberleen said.

  “Good, because it would be unfortunate to see the Head Housemistress acting above her station. Even you are not irreplaceable, Lady Amberleen.”

  Lady Amberleen flinched, and then reluctantly bowed her head.

  “Yes, Lord Aldrean,” she said, sounding defeated. “You are most certainly correct.”

  “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses,” Aldrean said, holding his head high. “Now surely you have other matters to attend to.”

  “Of course, milord,” Amberleen said. The Head Housekeeper slowly rose to her feet.

  “Please forgive my behavior… Master Vyra,” Amberleen said forcefully.

  “Consider yourself forgiven,” Vyra said, amused, “after all… even you can’t be right on everything.”

  As Aldrean turned his attention to Radek and the other guards, Amberleen flashed a glare at Vyra, then turned and walked briskly down the hallway.

  “Our business here is concluded,” Lord Aldrean said to the guards.

  The Beckonthrone guards turned to leave, but hesitated when Radek casually raised his right hand.

  “I’m the Captain of the Guard, and I am the one who decides when we are done,” Radek said, a challenging tone in his voice.

  “Is there a problem, Captain Radek?” Lord Aldrean asked firmly, and then stepped towards the captain.

  Moments passed as the two soldiers glared at each other, their faces only inches apart.

  “None whatsoever, Lord Aldrean,” Radek replied, flashing a slight smile. “Just reminding you of the chain of command; your Silverclad Knights report to you, but the soldiers of Beckonthrone report to me.”

  “And I was chosen by King Sargedon himself, and everyone bows before the King,” Aldrean said.

  “I don’t see the King here, do you?” Radek whispered aggressively, stepping towards the paladin.

  “This is my territory, soldier,” Aldrean growled as he returned the gesture.

  “No need to pout, Paladin,” Radek said with a faint sneer. “We’ll take our leave now.”

  Radek lowered his hand, and the guards turned to exit the Manor.

  “Congratulations on your squire hood, Vyra,” Radek said wrapping his cloak around him as he turned to leave. “We’re all excited to see how long a wench can actually last.”

  “Come with me, we have much to discuss,” Aldrean said as he gently wrapped an arm around Vyra’s back.

  Vyra caught a quick glance of Sister Clevora’s shocked expression as she followed Aldrean back up to his suite. They walked silently until they were both back inside his chamber.

  “Lord Aldrean, thank you so much for—” Vyra began.

  “Shut the door please,” Aldrean replied formally.

  Aldrean let out a loud sigh as soon as the door was shut.

  “Oh Holy Willow! How did I get through all of that? Everyone is probably furious at me now! And Lady Amberleen… she’s so intimidating!” Aldrean collapsed.

  Vyra frowned. It was clear that whatever courage Aldrean had found earlier had left and traveled very far away.

  “It doesn’t matter; you’re the Paladin after all. Chosen by the King,” Vyra said, trying to be comforting. “You’re a fierce warrior.”

  “A swift kick between the legs can down many a fierce warrior, myself included,” Aldrean replied, his voice muffled by a pillow.

  “So—was I brave?” he asked, lifting his head out of the pillow and looking her way.

  “You were magnificent,” Vyra responded with a wide smile.

  “I hope you’re right, because that was terrifying!” Aldrean said, with a shiver.

  “I think there’s hope for you too,” Vyra said. “A few moments ago when you swore, you said ‘Holy Willow.’ That phrase is common only because The High Priestess Willow is the revered leader of the holy priestesses. You already knew that, even though you believe you don’t remember who Priestess Willow is.”

  Aldrean leaned back, seeming to ponder what she had just said.

  “Hey, maybe you’ve got something there,” he said with a faint grin.

  “Do you want to come downstairs and have some tea?” Vyra asked, trying to sound comforting.

  “I appreciate the offer. But I think I’m just going to go back to my chamber for a lengthy period of time,” Aldrean replied.

  A-a-a-a-and there it goes again, Vyra thought with a sigh.

  “I’ll give you some space for now,” Vyra said as she turned towards the chamber door.

  “You’ll uh, come back tomorrow?” Aldrean asked.

  “You’d let me?” Vyra asked.

  “Of course. You are my squire after all. If what you’re saying is true, maybe it’s only a matter of time before I get used to being around women again. You help me transition back to my normal self, and I’ll help you become a knight. Deal?”

  “Deal,” Vyra agreed eagerly; though she still hoped that the paladin wouldn’t transition back to exactly how he was before.

  “Excellent,” Aldrean replied. Vyra almost thought she caught a glimpse of his confidence resurfacing. “Now meet me at the manor’s barracks at first daylight, there is much that you must learn.”

  “Will do,” Vyra said.

  Maybe this will all work out after all, she thought to herself with a smile.

  ~

  Vyra was so relieved to catch a moment of solitude that she wasn’t aware Sister Clevora was approaching until she felt a slap on the back of her head.

  “Why did you never tell me you were sharing a bed with Lord Aldrean?” Sister Clevora shouted, her voice a strange combination of angry and impressed.

  “What are you talking about?” Vyra said, grabbing the back of her head.

  “Ooh, don’t play dumb with me. I was not born yesterday, you know. I remember helping you change out of your clothes when you and Maek were just children. No woman ever becomes a squire, let alone a woman from a humble status… and especially not an apprenticeship at the hands of Lord Aldrean, the Paladin of Beckonthrone, who has never taken a squire before.”

  “Perhaps he’s just looking at me in a different light,” Vyra said evasively.

  “Look at you under a different — the only time Lord Aldrean looks at a woman in a different light is when they’re switching positions in his bed!” Sister Clevora huffed.

  “He’s not like that, he’s changed!” Vyra protested.

  “Perhaps he has,” Sister Clevora replied.

  “You’re — you’re agreeing with me?” Vyra asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yes, he clearly has changed,” Sister Clevora said, crossing her arms. “Clearly, he now has a newfound fetish for the working woman instead of entitled nobles; but I’m sure his personality is as constant as it was before!”

  “Why are you so convinced that it is not possible for Aldrean to change?” Vyra asked as she also crossed her arms.

  “I’ve been serving this estate far longer than you, and I swear to you,” Sister Clevora argued, “Lord Aldrean’s chamber has more beasts going in and out of it than the Brightmeadow Manor stables.”

  “Whatever happened to your willingness to ‘giving it all up in an instant to ride that stallion across the kingdom’?” Vyra asked flatly.

  “We all have flaws, Vyra,” Sister Clevora replied quickly, putting her hands on her hips, “I would at least like to enjoy mine.”

  “Your flaw is your craving to ride?” Vyra asked.

  “No, I’m perfectly fine with that. That’s perfectly healthy. My craving to ride him is my flaw,” Sister Clevora said with a sigh. “What I pretend is a test of my faith, is really just a lack of opportunity.”

  “Sister,” Vyra said, her voice softened, “if it wasn’t for Lord Aldrean, Lady Amberleen would have me in the dungeon right now, or worse.”

  “I know, dear, and for that I am very grateful,” Sister Clevora said, putting her arm around Vyra, “I just hope all the favors he has granted you d
o not come with golden threads, leading to a price too heavy to bear.”

  “Me too, Sister,” Vyra replied, staring at the stone floor as she leaned into the priestess, “me too.”

  Moments passed as they held each other in silence.

  “I haven’t slept with him, Sister,” Vyra whispered. “You have to believe me.”

  “I believe you, dear. I’m just… I’m ashamed of myself for ever doubting you,” Sister Clevora said, squeezing her tighter. “I’ve always believed the best of you. You just had been acted very strange lately; and for a moment, back when Lady Amberleen accused you of stealing… I actually believed her. I’ve felt downright awful since then.”

  “Amberleen is a deceitful, wicked imp,” Vyra replied comfortingly. “There’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

  “Well…” Sister Clevora continued. “I’m also ashamed of myself for not knowing whether to be proud of you for somehow capturing Aldrean’s eye without having to warm his bed, or sad for you because with all that experience, he’s probably really good in the hay.”

  “He is your flaw, Sister,” Vyra said, shoving her face into Sister Clevora’s shoulder to muffle her laugh.

  “No doubt of that,” Sister Clevora said with a smile.

  ~

  Moments after Vyra returned to her room, she heard a knock on her wooden door.

  “Who is it?” Vyra cautiously asked, grabbing her iron dagger and vowing not to open the door if it was Lady Amberleen.

  “It’s me,” Maek said, his tone unusually formal.

  “Oh! Come in,” Vyra replied cheerfully.

  Maek entered the room, but did not come much farther in.

  “I heard what happened with Lady Amberleen… I’m glad you’re okay. I was working on the other side of the manor at the time, or I would have tried to help,” Maek said. Vyra could not help but notice that his words sounded forced.

  “I appreciate the thought; and yeah, it was a dangerously close call,” Vyra responded.

  “The whole manor is talking about you. You really are to be Lord Aldrean’s squire?” Maek asked with uncertainty. He kept his eyes on the floor, away from her.

  “That’s how it appears, yes,” Vyra replied, with a quick stretch.

  “But they won’t let you lodge in the barracks?” Maek asked, with one eyebrow raised.

  “Keeping my servant’s room was my request,” Vyra added.

  “Why?” Maek asked, looking around the room.

  Vyra followed his gaze. Despite Brightmeadow Manor was one of the most prestigious buildings in Beckonthrone, outside of the royal palace itself; Lady Amberleen was devoted to make the advantages for the servants minimal. She had the same worn and creaky bed that she had been given when she and Maek first arrived. The only other piece of furniture in the room was an old wooden desk with drawers that were practically broken. But Vyra’s impoverished living arrangements were still luxury, to the alleyways that she and Maek had slept in during their youth, and it had the comfortable familiarity that the decorative squire chambers lacked.

  “I’m guessing your magical potion worked after all,” Maek continued after Vyra was silent for a few moments.

  “It did,” Vyra said. “My training starts first thing in the morning.”

  “And where are you required to be tonight?” Maek pressed, his gaze finally turning to her.

  It took a moment for Vyra to piece together what Maek meant, and when she did her mouth fell open in shock.

  “How dare you,” Vyra demanded, casting Maek a glare.

  “So that is where the line is drawn?” Maek snapped as he crossed his arms.

  “Yes, I’m drawing that line. You have no right,” Vyra argued.

  “I have no right? You’ve not been yourself, Vyra; you’ve been playing this dangerous game!” Maek shouted. “Since the night I helped you escape the city, and you only tell me afterwards that you put yourself in danger just for the opportunity to see The Midnight Wolf. Then you sneak a spell into a paladin’s goblet. And now you have him as your puppet so long as you warm his bed!”

  “Not that it is any of your concern, but I have not slept with Lord Aldrean!” Vyra yelled.

  Maek’s mouth fell open, but no words came out.

  “He has not even tried to pressure me into sleeping with him; for a noble, he has been courteous and respectful. However, if I wanted to share his bed… that is my choice, not yours!” Vyra didn’t care how much Maek had helped her in the past; right now she wanted to punch him in the face.

  “I only meant, that you deserve better than Aldrean,” Maek explained, his tone softening.

  “And who is better than Lord Aldrean?” Vyra replied heatedly.

  “Someone who does not need a spell cast on them to notice you,” Maek shot back.

  Silence fell over the room. Vyra wiped away a tear from her cheek.

  “If I hadn’t done what I had — the old Vyra would be rotting in the dungeon, or worse,” Vyra passionately explained. “The new Vyra is stronger; the new Vyra has created opportunities that were forbidden to women. The new Vyra is better.”

  “I can see your strength Vyra. I’ve always seen it, because it’s always been there,” Maek said softly. “You don’t need to prove yourself to the world to be strong.”

  “You wouldn’t understand,” Vyra said. “Your dreams weren’t forbidden to you.”

  “It seems that way right now,” Maek replied, giving Vyra a look that she did not understand.

  “Think about it, just how far does this hole go?” Maek continued.

  “It doesn’t matter, because you’re not going with me,” Vyra snapped.

  Maek said nothing at first. Vyra could see the rage in his face, but she could also see the pain.

  “You’ll lose yourself to this, Vyra. I can already see it happening,” Maek replied coldly. He turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Chapter 2

  “Where the hell is everyone?” Eygodon shouted, throwing his hands up in the air.

  He knew he was in the right place; the ragged wooden fortress in front of him was unmistakably built by goblin hands. A more intelligent horde of goblins could have built skyscrapers of steel and ships that glided through the sky. But not Eygodon’s goblin horde; for them, it was just pointy barricades and wooden huts. Eygodon expected that the compensation for the shoddy craftsmanship would be seeing swarms of goblins, yet the fortress was surprisingly empty.

  “They left,” a rough and snarky voice made the warlock whirl around. Eygodon’s excitement at a potential minion immediately died when he met eyes with the goblin.

  “Welcome back, boss,” Tuq-tuq replied flatly.

  Eygodon recognized his old assistant instantly. Tuq-tuq wore the dark cobalt robe that was customary both for goblins with authority and goblins that were attuned to magic. The monocle in Tuq-tuq’s left eye only emphasized how unenthusiastic the goblin was to see him.

  Tuq-tuq always wore a mushroom top over his head. It always slid part way off, covering only half his head and one ear. Tuq-tuq had large pointy ears, easily five times the size of human ears. They were also significantly larger than Eygodon’s, who was merely a half-goblin; frequently Eygodon’s tinier yet-still-pointed ears had him mistaken for an elf, which worked to his advantage when wandering through Kae-koon establishments. Of all the goblins in The Gruharr, Tuq-tuq was Eygodon’s least favorite goblin; he never showed any excitement serving under Eygodon’s rule. He could at least try to fake it.

  “But why?” Eygodon whined, bewildered and having no interest in engaging in pleasantries.

  “Nice to see you too, Tuq-tuq,” the goblin mimicked sarcastically. “I was so worried about your safety, but I guess I was just too caught up sniffing cauldrons and bathing in my own warlock selfishness.”

  “Sorcerer,” Eygodon corrected. “And I am not a cauldron sniffer.”

  “Yet you didn’t dispute bathing in your own selfishness,” the goblin retorted.


  “Where is my horde, Tuq-tuq?” Eygodon demanded.

  “They serve The Duskpetal Witch now.”

  “They serve her?” Eygodon asked, throwing his arms into the air. “How did she seize my army? She must have forced them somehow. Did she cast a spell to enslave their minds? Did she slaughter them and revive their corpses as an undead horde? Did she bribe them with untold fortunes?”

  “No, she just asked politely,” Tuq-tuq said with a shrug.

  “She… asked… politely?” Eygodon said, his jaw slowly lowering. “Why would they betray me so easily?”

  “If it helps to elaborate, you were a pretty bad leader,” Tuq-tuq explained bluntly.

  “That doesn’t help. Like, at all,” Eygodon replied with a frown. “Well, I think that I was an amazing leader! I led many battles, most of them resulting in victory! The Gruharr’s lust for blood was never unquenched! What could I possibly have done that would make those thick-headed brutes think I was anything less than a pristine example of leadership?”

  “Yeah, with the highest death-count a goblin horde has ever suffered,” Tuq-tuq added.

  “You’re exaggerating,” Eygodon growled.

  “I’m actually not. At the Battle of Copper Wing: you set the historical record for highest amount of goblin casualties in one battle in all of goblin history, and we had our enemy outnumbered five to one; and then you beat that record by almost double at the Battle of Jagged Peaks. Some of us still have nightmares about the Battle at Muddy Mire; and those of us survived that have never forgotten the slaughter we suffered, failing to claim the Kae-koon fortress in the battle of Deep Helm—”

  “Okay okay, you made your point,” Eygodon said, half cringing. “I will admit… some casualties may have occurred. Necessary for my brilliant strategies of—”

  “Charge straight at them until they run out of arrows and are too tired to lift their swords?” Tuq-tuq finished. “Because that’s the strategy I remember you saying. One memorable quote you gave the horde just before battle comes to mind: ‘They may be stronger than us. They may be more skilled than us. But there’s one thing we have that they don’t. Numbers, lots and lots of them. Some of you may die, but there is no way they have enough energy to kill all of you.’”