The Princess and the Apprentice

by Roland Boykin

A deep voice penetrated Aldan’s mind upon opening the book. “Welcome. Should you choose to continue, be warned that this is a path not easily traveled and from which there is no return.”

  He never heard the door as it clicked shut.

  * * *

  After seeing the Princess to her rooms and setting the spells to protect her, Mage Ryecliff patrolled the halls of the castle, ensuring his seals were still in place. The appearance of the krindar in Aldan’s room disturbed him more than he had let on. It should not have been possible for the beast to pass the shield spell he had placed on that door. The question that begged an answer was whether the demon had been sent for the princess or for young Beaverson. Had King Romar gained sufficient power to be able to send his creatures past the seals on the castle? A sense of foreboding filled the mage. What next?

  After a final check at the castle’s main gate, and double checking the seals on the royal family’s quarters, he made his way back to his own rooms. Well aware that excessive fatigue will play tricks on a person’s mind, he ignored the slight variation in the seal on his door as impossible. Ryecliff had always been a formidable mage, so he quickly dispelled the two granmory that attacked him inside his room. Unfortunately, the human heart can only withstand so much. The Mage clutched at his chest as intense pain flared within. With a final gasp of regret, his lifeless body collapsed to the floor.

  Throughout the castle, spells that depended on the power of the mage slowly began to fade and disappear. Only the spells Aldan had set to reinforce the ones already in place, remained.

  Chapter Three ~Into the Darkness

  Aldan sat rooted in place as the world faded around him, his soul drawn into the pages of the Tome of Magic. Remotely aware the book had cast a powerful spell over him the moment he turned the first page, he became an empty vessel ready to be filled. Minor yet critical nuances of magic answered questions he wasn’t even aware of asking.

  The book tested him relentlessly. Numerous times he was urged to recite and then cast the few spells he already knew. Each time, the book showed him slight corrections to make his spells more powerful and almost instantaneous. With each repetition, Aldan gained confidence. When that confidence turned to impatience and colored his desire to learn more, the book would rebuke him and start over.

  Eventually he was released from the spell and turned excitedly to the next page only to find it blank. A moment of anger and frustration turned to chagrin as he realized the book was not going to allow him to see more than he could handle. The Tome of Magic was his ‘true’ master now and it would decide when he was ready to learn more.

  Aldan had no way to determine the amount of time that had passed except for the fact that he couldn’t tell where the wood of the chair ended and the flesh of his rump began. He focused on the food left sitting on the platter and stuffed the leftovers in his mouth, followed by the remains of the wine. Feeling slightly refreshed, he returned the Tome to its smaller size, pushed away from the table and stood up on wooden legs. Waiting for the feeling to return, he walked slowly to his pack and tucked the small book inside.

  The sounds of fighting out in the hall chased away any thoughts of sleep. Someone banged on his door, and a muffled voice could be heard shouting, “Master Beaverson, help us!” He grabbed his sword, rushed to the door and jerked it open to find two guardsmen attempting to defend themselves against one of the krindar.

  The demon had pinned the grizzled veteran to the floor, white fangs ready to rend the man’s throat. His lanky, young partner continuously pierced the wraith like form with his sword but to no affect. Aldan cast the spell Mage Rycliff had taught him, and the beast exploded in a shower of sparks.

  “Thank you, my Lord,” the guardsman on the floor gasped, climbing to his feet with the help of his partner. “The army of King Romar has reached the old wall. It is only a matter of time before they break through and lay siege to the castle.”

  “Where is Mage Ryecliff?” Aldan asked, attempting to keep the alarm out of his voice.

  “Dead,” the older man replied. “He was found in his rooms a short while ago with no marks on him. The body had already begun to cool.”

  “Then why are you here? Shouldn’t you be preparing to defend the castle?”

  “King Bertram ordered us to escort you and the Princess to the lower level of the castle where the old escape tunnel should be located.”

  Aldan rushed back into his rooms thinking, what an odd thing to say. “Where the escape tunnel should be located.” Didn’t they know? He grabbed his travel pack and strapped his sword to the belt around his waist.

  The young guardsman blurted out, “Please hurry! With the old mage’s protections gone, we could be overrun at any moment.”

  Aldan snatched his cloak from the peg next to the door and followed the men as they trotted down the hall towards the Royal Apartments. Maybe it was his imagination, but with the mage’s protections no longer in place, the halls seemed darker and more confining than when he first arrived.

  The door to the Princess’s rooms stood open and the sounds of hissing could be heard, along with the angry shouts of the Princess. The guardsmen drew their swords, but Aldan signaled them with a raised hand to stay outside. He had seen how ineffectual swords were against the demons.

  The Apprentice entered the room with all the confidence he could muster, empty handed. Three of the krindar had Odessa cornered but appeared to be content just preventing her escape. Most likely they had orders from King Romar not to harm her.

  Faced with multiple beasts, he felt his confidence waver. The spell he knew was only effective against one beast. A slight modification to the spell flashed into his mind that would split the spell to counter multiple enemies, a gift from the Tome.

  He drew more power than ever before for a spell, and the three demons simply ceased to exist. No shower of sparks, nothing. Staggering slightly, he was able to intercept the Princess as she tried to run past. He held her tight, both in an effort to stop her and to keep from falling.

  “Let go of me this instant! I must go to my father.”

  Aldan continued to hold her as she began to sob. “No Princess, I cannot. Remember what Mage Ryecliff said to you earlier. Your father has chosen his path and now you must choose yours.”

  After a moment, she raised tear filled eyes to glare deeply into his and spoke words that would haunt him for years to come.

  “I hate you. Someday I will make you pay for the decision you have forced upon me.”

  Still glaring, she pushed away and disappeared into one of her rooms to return shortly with her own travel pack and a short sword strapped to her waist. Only then did he notice that she was wearing a uniform of sorts, not unlike the guardsmen. Without a word, she brushed past him and out into the hall where the two men waited.

  They bowed to the Princess and then hurried down the hall, leaving Aldan to bring up the rear. He kept his senses alert for any danger, but after descending several levels, they arrived at a blank wall without incident. Placed in front of the wall were two large bags filled with provisions. Aldan stared at the wall as the words of the guardsman began to make sense. Where was the opening?

  “Well, Mage Beaverson,” the Princess mocked him, “Now we will see if Jordan’s confidence in your abilities was justified. It’s up to you to find the secret entrance and open it.”

  Aldan remembered reading a fanciful story about a fortress built to resemble a mountain that could only be entered through an invisible door. At the time, it seemed more fantasy than history because the location of said fortress was unknown. Of course, there was no mention of how to find that door.

  Ignoring the look of disdain on the face of the Princess, Aldan paced back and forth casting several different spells designed to locate hidden items. With each failed attempt his frustration grew. In desperation, he sent a fireball against the wall, hoping to blast an opening. The result was singed eyebrows and a snicker from the Princess.

  After a deep breath, he
thought back to the story he had read. Part of the story mentioned that the fortress was also a school for apprentice mages. If that was the case, then the spell had to be simple enough for the least capable student. Thinking back to his earliest lessons, one came to mind that might work.

  Standing two feet from the wall, he closed his eyes, cast the spell and reached out with his right hand. A slight shiver traveled up his arm when his hand encountered a solid iron handle. He opened his eyes to find a tall ornate arch that surrounded an oaken door. The handle and hinges appeared to be newly forged and he could still smell the oil used to preserve the wood.

  Smiling in satisfaction, Aldan was pleased that everything happened just as the old story foretold. What the author of that old history failed to mention was the voice that spoke inside his head.

  “Enter and be welcomed. Give and it will be given. Take and it will be taken.”

  From the looks on his companion’s faces, they must have heard the voice also. Aldan motioned to the guardsmen, “Quickly now. Light one of the torches and escort the Princess through the door. It will only stay open as long as I hold the handle.”

  The urgency in his voice released whatever had been holding the two men frozen in place. They quickly slung the packs over their shoulders and lit a torch. The veteran urged the Princess to walk between them. She passed by Aldan, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  After allowing the door to close behind him, Aldan saw the archway and door disappear to become a blank wall once again. Just as he suspected. The opening wasn’t physical, but appeared wherever the spell was cast. What they would discover inside could only be imagined, since the story ended at finding the door. The abilities of the mages who built this fortress were far beyond his meager power. All he could do was trust his instincts and the Tome of Magic to guide them.

  The expressions on the faces of his companions mirrored his own, a blend of awe and a certain amount of fear. The beads of perspiration on the brow of the young guardsman were at odds with his calm stance. However, all eyes were locked on Aldan as if they were afraid to look anywhere else. Not that he would blame them, since nothing could be seen past the circle of torch light. Only the polished stones of the floor were visible.

  “This is not a tunnel. Have you led us astray, apprentice?” the Princess demanded, a hint of challenge in her voice.

  “No Princess, I have not. You are standing inside the fabled Citadel of Oron. Built by the Council of Mages in a previous age to resemble a mountain. It sits directly behind your father’s castle. It is rumored to contain vast riches and items of great power. I suspect this is the true reason for King Romar’s attack on the castle.”

  Suspicion filled her voice when the Princess asked, “Is it possible this is the true reason you came to us?”

  “Riches and power do not interest me,” he replied while stepping to the front of the group. “Quickly now. I don’t relish the idea of spending any more time in here than is absolutely necessary. Stay close, and try not to react to anything you see.”

  The darkness seemed to stretch forever. Even the sound of their foot-steps disappeared in the distance. Occasionally, voices could be heard, as if a large crowd had gathered. Twice, an open door appeared along their path revealing a room filled with gold and treasure. Hesitating at the second door, the young guardsman shook his head and continued on.

  A single, weak candle flame appeared to one side, illuminating a dinner table with a large family gathered around it. Their clothes were simple but appeared clean. In the middle of the table sat a small pot of what smelled like watered down barley soup. Aldan hesitated and then stopped as he recalled the words spoken upon entering the citadel.

  Not knowing if this was real or a test, Aldan beckoned the older guardsman, took one sack of their provisions and approached the table. Reaching inside, he began placing wrapped loaves of bread, packages of dried meat and wedges of cheese on the table. Every member of the family cried out in joy and surprise as each item he placed on the table appeared as if by magic. Aldan walked away from the table, leaving the husband and wife crying in each other’s arms and the children singing. He returned the empty sack and they continued on their way. From the look on her face, the Princess clearly questioned the wisdom of giving away half their provisions, but said nothing.

  Time lost all meaning in the darkness. It could have been ten steps or a hundred since their last encounter, when a doorway to a room filled with food and drink appeared before them. Four padded chairs surrounded the table and the rich aroma of roasted meat and steamed vegetables filled their noses.

  All eyes were on Aldan as they cautiously approached the table, waiting for him to pass judgment on the reality of what they saw. Once again, the voice in their heads spoke up to allay their fears. “As you have given, so it is given back to you. Rest and refresh yourselves. The wall of leaving is just beyond this room. Journey well.”

  Aldan pulled out the chair at the head of the table for the Princess, after which the men took their seats. Very little was said as they ate. He could guess the guardsmen felt they were in over their heads but tried their best not to show it. Other than a few furtive glances in his direction, the Princess gave no indication as to her thoughts.

  Now that they had escaped the castle and were safe for the time being, Aldan hoped to gain some information from the others. “Do any of you know what is beyond this mountain? Are there roads or villages? Once outside the Citadel, we must find a place to rest, whether or not it’s still night or morning has arrived.”

  The two men looked at each other and shook their heads. Aldan turned to the Princess.

  She glanced up and shrugged. “All I know is that Mage Ryecliff was to give us final instructions before we left. From what I remember of an old map my father had, there is another kingdom, but with only one small pass through the mountains we know little about who lives there.”

  Aldan pushed away his platter and stood up from the table. “The sooner we are on our way, the sooner we can rest.”

  “Can’t we stay here a little longer?” the young guardsman asked. “There is plenty of food and …” He watched in disappointment as the rest of the food vanished. “I guess not.”

  The instant they all stood, the entire room vanished, leaving them staring at another blank wall. Aldan faced the wall as before and was rewarded with the feel of another iron handle in his hand. Bending down to retrieve the empty sack, the gray-haired veteran grunted as he discovered it was full once again.

  Aldan stepped through after his companions, ready to be on his way when the voice in his head spoke up again. “Beware the Princess. The path she will choose is a dark and perilous one. Return when you are able, as I would teach you. Take this gift. It will get you past my guardian.”

  The door whisked shut, plunging them into total darkness. Directly in front of Aldan there appeared a softly glowing staff. So far, he had taken everything in stride, but this was legend come to life. Only the oldest histories spoke of mage staffs. He tentatively stretched out his left hand, grasped the staff and immediately felt a connection. Was this one of the ancient Staffs of Truth?

  The urgent whispers of his companions finally broke through his excitement. “I’m sorry, Jon. The torch went out when that room full of food appeared,” young Derek explained. “I didn’t think to light it again when we left.”

  “Will you two keep it down? We are not alone. Something is out there,” the Princess hissed. She then noticed the glow from the staff in Aldan’s hand and blurted out, “Where did you get that?”

  “It was given to me as a gift,” he replied, reverence shading his words.

  “And it isss very fortunate for you that it wasss,” boomed a deep voice above them. “Or I would be enjoying an early breakfassst!”

  Chapter Four ~Guardian or Captive?

  The only sound to break their stunned silence was the rattling of someone’s armor. Aldan stepped forward to place himself ahead of the Princess. The staff filled him
with a sense of daring he’d never felt before as he addressed the voice in the darkness.

  “You are the Guardian?”

  “I am,” came the answer, followed by the sound of ponderous footsteps and the feel of something immense approaching. “If your young fighting man would be ssso kind asss to hold up that torch, I will light it ssso you may gaze upon my magnificence.”

  At the sound of a snort from the Princess, Aldan stepped back and whispered to her, “I have read about dragons, Odessa. Please do not insult his vanity or we may end up as breakfast, regardless of the staff.”

  The sound of rattling armor increased, then abruptly ceased as a splash of flame shot out of the darkness and the torch flared to life. Their eyes slowly adjusted to the light and revealed vanity justified.

  Scales the color of a midnight sky covered the body of the dragon. A crown of spikes adorned his head and paraded down his neck and across his back, to end at the tip of his tail. Translucent wings folded at his side did nothing to hide the sparkles of reflected light given off by the luminescent scales. Every scale edge and the tips of the spikes were adorned with a golden sheen. On any other beast, the elongated, armored snout and heavy ridges above the reptilian eyes would seem out of place, but on the dragon, it complimented his ferocity and grace.

  The guardian surveyed the spellbound humans and a chuckle sounded from deep inside. “I sssee I have not lossst my ability to impresss.”

  Aldan was the first to recover and bowed deeply to the dragon. “I have read numerous accounts of the dragons of old but none of them do justice to the truth. I am Aldan Beaverson and this is Princess Odessa Armont. Forgive us for intruding, but we were forced to flee her father’s castle on the other side of the mountain and this was the only path open to us.”

  The dragon lowered his head to face Aldan and Odessa directly then studied the young humans before answering. “A ssscholar, mage and a gentleman. That isss a rare combination. Stay clossse to thisss one, Princess. He will protect you from yourssself.”