“Go get your stupid wood,” Zander said with his head hung low.

Danyais thought he heard Zander mumbling about his decision to step in front of a stupid assassin as he gently kicked his horse. Moving the powerful animal towards the fallen limb, Danyais wanted to collect wood from for Ari’s new practices swords. Maybe this wood will fare better than the others. Dismounting and grabbing the small hand axe he had attached to his saddle. He inspected the tree while several of the men who recovered from the hilarity fanned out in front of him, forming a protective barrier several meters away from him. Danyais spotted several smaller limbs that were about the right size needed for practice swords, and hacked away at them. With each swing, chunks of wood flew into the air until he had several logs that could be whittled down later. Danyais handed several of the logs over to one of his guardsmen to stow away on the pack animals.

A muffled sound of thunder reverberated throughout the forest. Danyais almost forgotten there was a storm approaching earlier over the horizon when they first entered the Nagian. He looked up at the canopy of the forest. The flower portion of the giant trees extended out, almost blanketing the entire forest with their translucent petals. The areas where the large petals did not overlap or where they pushed against each other, forcing gaps in the canopy, allowed the rain to sneak in. From the amount of rain seen in those breaks in the canopy, it was a torrential downpour. The massive trees barely swayed in the onslaught of the storm. If it was not for the flashes of lightning and muffled thunder, then any inside the forest would have been oblivious to the chaos outside.

Danyais refasten his small hand ax to his horse, mounted the animal, and guiding it back over to the rest of his men, those who were guarding him while he retrieved the wood were returning to their horses in the column. Zander stared neutrally at Danyais and knew his friend was plotting a counterattack on him for not supporting his claims of being a single man anymore. But, what was Danyais supposed to do, everyone in Dragon Crest knew Zander was fickle when it comes to any romantic relationship, except his poor mother.

“My ‘King,’ did you get your stupid wood?” Zander formally addressed Danyais, emphasizing the king part in a sarcastic tone.

“Yes, Lord Zander,” King Danyais replied to Zander in just as an antagonizing tone as well. He knew his friend only address him formally when pomp and circumstance required it, but never in front of just the guards or his wife and daughter.

Some of the King’s Guards around snickered and smiled at Danyais and Zander. They all knew the bond these two shared with each other, so the guards accepted the informal way Zander would treat Danyais while any other person would consider it a miracle to escape with all their limbs or even head intact with the antics Zander employed sometimes.

“We should get a move on it if we are ever going to find him,” Zander said, giving up on whatever verbal sparring he intended.

“You’re right. Let’s get moving, guys!” Danyais said, nudging his horse to move forward on the path again. His men following behind, still gazing at the forest for any possible threats.

“Are you sure he is here?” Zander asked, pushing a branch from out the way of his face with his hands.

“Yes, my father granted this entire forest to him,” Danyais assured his friend.

“The stories of this place. This forest. It is cursed, they say,” Zander whisper, as if saying the word cursed any louder would bring a mysterious demise on them.

“Cursed? I have seen no bones other than animals. How would anyone know? No one has lived or ventured in this forest in our lifetime because of blind faith in some stupid rumor,” Danyais said.

“See, you admit there is something wrong with this place. If no one has made it out of here in our lifetime, then what are the odds he is still alive? Maybe the curse got him too? There is a reason why no one has ventured into the Nagian in hundreds of years,” Zander said, wearily eying his surroundings.

“I thought you didn’t believe in the notion of superstitions,” Danyais retorted.

“I don’t, but come on, we are literally the only ones to venture into this forest since one of your great grans lifted the ban, and here we are searching for some fabled man who has probably been farting dust for a long time now. Are we even sure he can help us?” Zander replied.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Danyais thought he heard Zander mutter something about poison under his breath, causing Danyais to smile inwardly. Zander often joked when times were stressful, if the assassin’s poison was more lethal or if he did not ‘trip,’ he would have peace.

“Yes, he is very real. My father told me about him before he died. Besides, do you remember the ceiling in my old room?” Danyais said, referring to the starry ceiling enchanted by a magus as a thank you for a deed Danyais’ father assisted him with.

“That ceiling was a different person altogether,” Zander curtly stated. “No offense, but your father was how old when he died, and he wasn’t in his right mind, either. Though his story does explain the strange attraction, you have for poisons.”

“Sixty was how old my father was, and he told me many times that you were at fault for his nerves,” King Danyais said. “Besides, previous guardsmen verified the story he told and some of their sons who are with us right now,” Danyais answered his friend back, wondering where this line of questioning was going.

“Are you sure their fathers’ minds worked…” Zander said.

He was interrupted when someone blurted out, “Married!” “What was the kid’s name again?!” and others chimed in with “Engaged!”

“Mercy guys, my one ab can’t take much more!” Yadu said, setting off another round of laughter. Zander looked over his shoulder, scowling at the men behind him.

“Even if they all were sound of mind. How old would that make this so-called magus, then? Are we even looking for someone alive? We are just as likely to find a skeleton with a gray beard as a senile old man,” Zander concluded his argument.

They continued to ride deeper into the forest. Their small talk filtering between the trees between occasional bouts of laughter. Hours later a man at the front of the formation raised his hand in a fist, and each man behind him copied the motion, bringing their horses and conversations to a stop. The horses were well trained by the war stables and became quiet at the signal of the fist in the air. King Danyais kicked his horse in the side and traveled to the front of the column, with Zander trailing behind. When they arrived, they found Wendell, the man who issued the stop order, looking up a hill intently.

Wendell was the highest-ranking guardsmen Danyais brought with him. He should have been higher in rank than he was now, maybe even Vice Commander of the King’s guard, but Wendell did not seek promotion choosing to instead to stay by Danyais side when he was Prince to oversee his education in physical combat and field training. Wendell would often drag Zander, but take Elhanan and Danyais on educational excursions to the forests outside of Dragon Crest to teach them bushcraft and survival skills. When the trio became older and seasoned veterans of the woods, Wendell would abandon them altogether, letting them fend for themselves for extended amounts of time. All the while remaining just close enough in secret in case he was needed.

“My king,” Wendell said, pointing to a giant tree near the top of a hill.

The tree was bigger than any of the surrounding trees, easily twice as thick, making even the giant trees they have seen so far appear to be saplings next to it. Danyais looked at the tree and was puzzled. Besides the tree’s humongous size, he did not see why Wendell stopped them. He was about to ask Wendell what he wanted him to see.

“Look closely at the base of the tree towards the middle,” Wendell instructed Danyais. The wind moved a plant at the base of the tree, and through the wind stirred branches, Danyais saw a glimmer of light appear at the bottom of the tree.

“It’s a door!” King Danyais said in awe. Danyais scrutinized the tree now and could see what he thought was the profile of the door. The door was constructed to look like it was part of the tree itself. Bark and moss covered it. The door would have been entirely hidden if not for the little sliver of light giving it away. “Guess that is why you are the scout, Wendell. I would have no one besides you be my eyes, Wendell,” he said while touching the man’s shoulder. Wendell’s face beamed with pride. Danyais pulled on the reins of his horse, turning to face his companions.

“So, there is a light,” Zander said.

“Looks like your curse theory is out the door,” Danyais said.

“Want to make a wager on if he is old and senile then?” Zander asked.

“Even if he is old and senile, we still need his help. From here on, I will go alone,” Danyais announced. The men whisper their protest vigorously, with hands waving and heads shaking. They did not want to alert anyone they were there.

“Well, if you do not come back, I will tell Ari about how you met her mom. The real story,” Zander threatened him.

“You wouldn’t!” Danyais said in an unkinglike voice, his eyes widening as he imagined the fury of his beloved wife. “Guess I best come back then. I could not have the Queen kill my best friend now, could I,” Danyais smiled, spurring the horse forward.

“She might just dig your corpse up after all and murder you all over again, along with me. It is supposedly only you that knows the story. I have kept my mouth shut,” Zander said, checkmating him with his last comment.

Danyais just smiled and kicked his horse, moving up the hill. He heard Wendell issuing orders to the men. The men fanned out and secured the hill. About halfway towards the giant tree, the ground became exceedingly muddy. Danyais glanced up and saw a massive hole in the canopy, a perfect oval shape as if someone carved it out. Danyais’ horse’s hooves sank into the mud, and the stead struggled for proper traction on the slippery slope. Not wanting to endanger his horse or have it roll over on him, Danyais unmounted, tying the horse to a bush nearby.