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Kairos paced across his tiny room inside the highest tower, his hands clasped behind his back, deep in thought, struggling with the king’s words rattling his brain.
“Find a spell to obliterate these skura, Kairos. It’s your duty to the kingdom. Do not fail me!”
Kairos had a reputation to live up to—his father’s—and he would probably fail miserably. He usually did. Had he his mother’s magical abilities, he might come up with a solution. She’d been a nature-wielder who swallowed tinctures of minerals and herbs that, when blended with the magic flowing in her veins, could influence the surrounding atmosphere. That probably wouldn’t help the Potamian war against the skura. She could influence artesian wells during a drought, aid anglers by commanding the tides, and assist women with their monthly cycles, but he highly doubted her magic would stop a skura attack.
He glanced at his profile in the mirror. His prominent nose rivaled his father’s, long with a notable hook. Good old Father! Lord Rincon! Had the man lived longer, he’d be King Tobias’ Vouchsaver, entitling him to half the spoils in battle and a manor of his own. Lord Rincon could control both heat and air. His power might have had more influence on the skura than his mother’s. In his day, his father could send flames of unimaginable distances, setting fires and explosions wherever needed. Kairos had some of that same alchemy running in his veins, but he hadn’t yet learned to dominate it. He’d been procrastinating a few years too long, and for good reason!
He grunted at the thought of how talented his parents were. If his father had not been such an accomplished sorcerer, Kairos probably wouldn’t be in the palace at all, but performing stunts at the ghetto pubs in East Prasa Potama. Who else hires wizards these days but high political figures or squalid innkeepers? A Lord but lords under Potamian rule were skittish about acquiring magic. If you had a wizard in the house, you would attract demons. Kings had no fear of evil if a wonderful wizard followed him around. Hence, the palace held the only legitimate proprietor of sorcery in the kingdom. Kairos needed to accommodate the king, or he’d be on the dole. His livelihood depended on his performance.
Once again, he would dig up his father’s and mother’s formulas and see if he could find anything new. They had written a discourse on Countering Malevolent Creative Activities of the Phantom Lord Skotádi. Though neither of his parents could prove the existence of the legendary apparition, the dark lord’s beasts were real. His parents believed that if they could somehow destroy the mastermind of these creatures, they would eliminate the threat to humanity. First, they had to prove him real.
The two never finished proving their thesis. Kairos had, in the past, attempted to continue the work but got distracted. Reading a five thousand page manual of dry, uninteresting data discouraged him. Worse, the manner of his father’s death left him traumatized. His father died while fighting a hydra. The battle had been a horrendous event. Worse, the beast did not kill his father. An overload of magic in Lord Rincon’s body triggered heart failure during the battle. He died an unnatural natural death.
Kairos frowned as he recollected that day. The trauma left him too paranoid to achieve his true potential.
The wizard wet his lips, his heart racing a bit.
“I’ll be fine,” he whispered to himself, a cold sweat forming, as it always did when he thought about his father’s death. “I will avoid using extreme amounts of magic.” His hands shook. He knew he’d have to overcome this fear if he were ever to please the king. Until now, Kairos hadn’t cared. Fame didn’t appeal to him, as long as he had a job and could stay in the palace performing remedial tricks to entertain the court. But Lord Garion’s call for help against skura put him in a precarious situation. The king needed more power from him. Kairos did everything he could to counter his phobia, to the point of begging King Tobias to hire lesser wizards as apprentices, which the king did. Still, Kairos had to invent the magic.
He found the sought-after papers, pulled them out of the drawer, and sat at his desk, contemplating over his charts and graphs by candlelight. Each formula written seemed workable. Each formula demanded some physical exertion from him. Not so workable. Kairos by nature had a slothful streak. After reviewing the last procedure, he slapped his hand on his desk and sighed, pushing his dark locks out of his face.
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Springing out of his chair, he opened the shutters to his study high in the tower and looked out over the castle walls. The fresh air helped his thinking and kept him awake. In the daylight, beyond the township of Prasa Potama, clay roads ribboned through the grasslands to the sea, to the farmlands, and the forests. Tonight, he could see as far as the moat, the bridge, and a few alleys lined with stone-wall apartments.
He donned his midnight blue cloak, the one lined with gold embroidery. It made him feel a bit more magical. His father wore this same cloak when he had cast spells. The colors matched the astrological charts on the walls now rustling in the breeze.
Someone tapped at his door. Rhea! How could he have forgotten her visit tonight? He brushed the wrinkles from his cloak and fixed his collar as he rushed to let the most beautiful woman in the kingdom enter his humble abode.
“Rhea,” he whispered and took her hands, pulling her into the room and holding the door open for the train of her dress to slip by. “Quickly! Did anyone follow you here?”
“I’m not a fool, Kairos. I know how to avoid my father.”
“Of course, you do.”
Their conversation ceased as they drew close to each other. She smelled like lilacs. Her topaz hair glowed gold and orange in the candlelight. The fabric of her bodice felt soft, and the warmth of her body under all that clothing made him tingle and his blood run hot. He held her tight as they kissed. She touched his cheek, played with his hair, and smiled when she pulled away.
“You’ve been hiding in this tower way too long. I’ve missed you.”
“I’m afraid your father is making unreasonable demands of me. I wonder if you could persuade him to give me more time.” He nodded toward his desk. “I haven’t come up with anything powerful enough to take down a swarm of skura.”
“Father won’t listen to me. Only Barin may counsel him about military strategies. Would you like me to talk to my brother?”
“No, my princess! Your brother is more demanding than your father. Besides, Barin doesn’t like me all that much. Is he back yet?”
“Barin and his troops arrived this evening. We’re waiting to hear how he fared.”
“I’d be curious as well. Maybe they slaughtered all the skura and they don’t need me.”
“Are you shirking your duties?” she asked with a chuckle, and then she shook her head, causing Kairos to frown.
“No. No, of course not.” He couldn’t show his cowardliness, though disguising it proved difficult. “No, but if they won this battle, then it would be over, and no one would have to return to that horrid valley. It’s a long trip over that mountain, you know. With many dangers on the way.”
“And I wouldn’t want you away that long,” she assured him. “Not when you could be here with me. I’m against all this violence as well.” She took his hand and pulled him closer to her. “I love you.”
Kairos smiled at those words, but when he looked, his smile disappeared. King Tobias stood on the threshold, hands on his hips, and an angry scowl across his face.
“Rhea, go to your room,” the bearded king commanded.
Rhea jumped back and wrung her hands, her eyes wide. “Father! I didn’t know,” she started.
“Of course, you didn’t know I followed you. How could you?”
Rhea opened her mouth to protest, but her father stopped her with a raised hand. “Go to your room. Now.”
Kairos’ pulse went into overload when he caught King Tobias’ glaring at him.
“Go! I have words to speak with this young man and you don’t need to hear them.”
She left, but not without a fleeting look of pity at Kairos as she stepped out the door. Kairos pursed his lips and gave her a sullen wave.
King Tobias shut the ingress after her, flinging his cloak behind him as he turned to face the wizard. Kairos stepped back and bowed, not knowing what else to do. Perhaps King Tobias didn’t know what he should do either, for he paced to the window and looked out, breathing deeply. The embroidery on his tunic glimmered in the candlelight. Kairos monitored the man’s dagger sheathed in his belt, hoping the king wouldn’t use it.
“Your father was a powerful magician,” the king’s voice shook the tower, or maybe those were Kairos’ weak knees trembling.
“Yes, Vasil.”
“A man of honor and courage. He gave his all to the throne.”
“Yes, Vasil.”
“What happened to you?”
Kairos swallowed. “I…don’t know.”
“Neither do I. But I am just as much a man of honor as your father. That’s why I will not dismiss you. I could you know. You’d be nothing more than a street vendor if I did.” The king pointed his finger at Kairos. He wore many rings—silver and gold, and some were brass. They glimmered with priceless stones. Large stones. Stones that could knock a man senseless were they thrust in his face with the force of a king’s fist. Kairos gulped again.
“I’m convincing myself that the reason you have not created the right sort of power for us to win against these beasts is…” he inhaled and nodded toward the door. “Is because of my daughter!”
“Rhea? Vasil?”
“Your flirtatious relationship is distracting you.”
“Yes, Vasil.” He swallowed. He couldn’t deny that Rhea distracted him.
“Therefore, I am forbidding you to see her.”
“But…”
“By threat of imprisonment. For now. Or something.” The king waved away the thought. “Find us what we need to rid Tellwater of the skura and anything else the dark lord is brewing in that iron pot of his. Maybe then I’ll let you two see each other.” He moved toward the door. Sweat seeped down Kairos’ forehead. The king turned around. “Imprisonment, mind you!”
Kairos bowed.
With that, the king made a royal exit. His cloak caught the air behind him, and the sound of his boots resounded through the hall.
Kairos collapsed at his desk and buried his head in his hands.