Saulen clutched the cold orb in his hands. Come on, come on…. He thought to himself, urging for some light to emanate from the emerald green sphere. The tips of his fingers had been burning for at least five minutes at this point. Five minutes of futile concentration, prayers, tears, and chanting. Finally, he fell to his knees, the orb still tight in his clutch. "...Please…" he relented, "I beg of you, please…." There was no response, no dim light, no crackle of flame or lightning, it didn't even float. It just sat there like a glorified rock.
"Maybe we can try tomorrow. You should've eaten more this morning or slept more last night, you'll get it tomorrow." Deshi placed a sympathetic hand on Saulen's shoulder.
No! He thought to himself, instantly pulling away. “Do not touch me! I- I am a prince! And I shall do this today!” He clutched harder, tighter, his muscles crying out as he clenched them more, his forehead began to singe, yet concentration and passion both meant nothing, nothing happened, and nothing responded. Nothing, nothing, nothing! Why? Why? Why? He released the orb from one of his hands, holding it tightly before raising it over his head, reeling his arm back, and preparing to launch it toward the nearest surface.
“Saulen, Saulen!” A little girl called out, her voice whimsical and musical. Saulen turned his head to see her. Her wig was long gone, her baldness out and open for all the world to see. She looked up at him with glimmering indigo eyes, wonder shone off her wide pupils. Behind her came rushing a pair of guards in their violet and scarlet cloaks. And behind them was a burst of colors, a rainbow tidal wave rushing into the room, the doors had been open, and a rainbow of large fluttering wings seemed to take the opportunity. The colors swarmed around them, some momentarily landing on her scalp, their stillness revealing their true selves, butterflies. Pink, blue, red, violet, and more, each had their own unique patterns. No single butterfly was the same. “Saulen I-” One flew into her mouth for a moment before she spat it out, and it fluttered back into the swarm. “Wait.” She looked around, her guards had their hands on their holsters, yet they hadn’t drawn their weapons. They were just looking around, their eyes darting from butterfly to butterfly, uneasy of each movement the insects made, and jumping at any that broke the pattern. “Attention everyone… please stop!”
And like a battalion of well-trained soldiers at their higher-up’s command, they stopped. Each and every one of them landed on the ceiling, or the wall, or some desk, or the leg of some furniture. The guards stood at attention, their boots slamming into each other. Saulen didn’t understand why they followed her command until he felt a distinct aura of judgment and irritation coming from Deshi.
“I thought the princess was supposed to be in the Sun Garden, protected by her attentive honor guards. Instead, she’s rushing through the castle with a swarm of butterflies at her back.”
Before the guards could respond, Christia answered for them. “Please don’t blame them Deshi. I saw a butterfly with a broken wing, so I sang to it. It was that song Alina sang to me when I was sick that one time, she- she said a queen once used it to heal her son, she used the blood of a vampire, and the spit of a tarasque… but they’re all gone. But when I sang, all of the other butterflies began to fly around and touch it. Now it’s better, and they all love me!”
Deshi looked around at the mass of colorful wings. “I see… you… you’re just as amazing as Abramus.”
Saulen clenched his fists at that comment but took a silent breath and placed his hand on her scalp. “A real prodigy, you’ll be a master of magic in no time.”
She looked up at him with starry eyes, her mouth agape for a moment before shifting into a toothy smile. “Really? Will I be as good as you one day?” She stopped and sharply sucked in some air, her back straightening and her arms stretching upwards. The butterflies scattered and fluttered with each movement of the young girl. “What if I become as strong as Abramus one day? A mighty general who shall turn the usoapers into rock! All hail Christia! Queen of butterflies!”
Saulen chuckled and rubbed her round head, “Lady of butterflies… I’ll be king, and you’ll be my greatest advisor.”
Her arms dropped faster than they rose, and she gave him an apologetic look, “I- sorry- I.”
Saulen released her head from his grasp and pressed his finger into her forehead. “Don’t worry about it, sis. I’ll forgive this treason…” he smiled and flicked his finger upwards. “This time.” He wondered if she would remember that he said that last time she said she was queen.
Deshi gave what was clearly a false cough and interjected,
“I think we should bring this new discovery to Magister Igor. He’ll want to know about a child with such raw magical potential. You’ll be learning more advanced spells in no time. Er, Saulen, you’re fine if we end our lesson early today considering the circumstance. A discovery such as this is of tremendous importance.”
Saulen masked his growing irritation, though he was sure some malice was shining through his eyes. “Yes, I can continue my training fine on my own.”
Deshi nodded and bowed, and led the three out the door, the swarm of butterflies followed close behind in what could only be described as a living rainbow. A long silence stood where they once were, cold and faint. That’s when a guard rushed back, clumsily clambering and bowing in apologies before shutting the door.
Saulen sighed and felt something in his hand. The orb… the orb. “You!” He barked, his hands tightly squeezing into the cold object. Why wouldn’t it just work? It was just some orb, just some insignificant little ball of light. He was the future king. And this thing? What right did it have to impose itself over him? “Stupid, pathetic, inferior.” He raised the orb up high and threw it into the wall. He expected it to shatter, but instead, all he was left with was a mere thud, before it fell to the ground and rolled off under a chair. Saulen clenched his fists once more, a red-hot fury building up inside of him. “I- I- I-!”
A girl’s voice interjected, “You’re not going to throw a tantrum are you?” Saulen’s head turned so fast it made him dizzy. Her short bobbed hair was a dark auburn, and her eyes somehow glimmered despite their own dark color. The girl was taller than him by a few inches, it felt like she was taller than the last time they talked, but that must’ve been yesterday so that couldn’t be. Though what really struck him was her gown. They were wrinkled and covered in what appeared to be dust.
That’s when Saulen realized his mouth was gaping open like that of some buffoon. “Pauline- I- I mean- I- of course not.” How much had she seen, did she see him throw the orb, did the hear him talk?
“It looks like you’re going to throw a tantrum, your majesty.” There was some concern in her voice, though her derisive intent shined through. Her pupils fell and rose as she approached him before stopping a few inches from his face. When she continued the concern felt more real, “I saw the butterflies… that’s gotta suck.”
Saulen relaxed his shoulders and sighed, “Yeah… Deshi wasn’t making it much better. He’s not a very inspiring teacher.”
Pauline shook her head, “In his defense, how many students of his have put this much pressure on themselves? You wanna talk about it while I show you something cool I found?”
“Does it have to do with why your gown is like that? Has your mother seen you yet?” If her mother found out, Pauline was in for what would be another day locked away in her room.
Pauline rolled her eyes, “No thank the fey. She would’ve thrown a fit and probably forced me to learn some archaic mending spell. Sewing machines are a fun tool she refuses to accept. I heard the lower classes use them all the time. But you know her,” Pauline stood at attention and waved her hands around erratically as she spoke in a voice that could only be described as some cheap cross between a bird and a dying hound. “Proper Nobles of Volshebmgou were blessed with the sacred knowledge of some wrinkly old guy who spent way too much time with teenage apprentices who couldn’t refuse his orders in the mountains. To learn the sacred arts of… what was it? Tip of my tongue, what was it… oh right, sewing clothes together, or lighting a candle.”
Saulen rolled his eyes at her miniature rant, “You know magic is more than lighting candles. At least you can perform spells, I can’t even make an orb glow.” He looked at his feet and felt a fire build up inside of him.
Pauline gave him a gentle smile and took another step toward him. “This secret place I found can help you with your problem. It’ll help you tap into your inner fire.”
Saulen pondered the prospect for a moment, looking back at the orb for a long second before turning back to her. “Where?”
Her smile grew large and toothy, her teeth white and gleaming, like some mischievous creature. “You’ll have to see it to believe it.”
Saulen, as if by instinct took a step forward, and in response, Pauline took a step back. A step forward, and a step back. The pair stepped forward and back until they had reached the door. She paused for a moment, before pivoting to turn and rush out the door.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
“Come on, if any of my mom’s friends catch me like this I’m dead.” Her words matched her steps, fast and impish. “Though I’d be walking with the crowned prince, so in a way the two balance each other out.”
Saulen tried his best to keep up with her. His seemed to strain against him as he walked as quickly as possible. “I don’t know, I feel like it might’ve saved you for the first month, but it’s been a few years and- hey wait, where are you taking me?”
They had changed halls at least twice now, there wasn’t much here besides…. The photo of Abramus, every picture of his brother felt like some divine mirror made to mock him. Abramus was a raven to his crow. His skin was milky and smooth like their mother’s, it reminded him of a serene beach. Saulen’s skin was more like their father’s, almost grainy with a noticeably brown tint to it. Abramus had white streaks in raven black hair, with eyes shimmering like a pair of violet stars in the midnight sky, and Saulen? Well, his hair was just as black, but the whites were specks, not streaks, and his eyes were so dark they might as well be black. This particular photo was taken before his last battle, by the time Saulen came to a complete stop he found himself trapped in place. Gazing into his light reflection, the man who should’ve been king. Saulen could feel his rage boiling back up before Pauline pulled him back to reality.
Her tone carried a hint of bored sarcasm when she sighed, “Yeesh, I know he was a cool guy, but you’ve gotta stop doing this whenever we pass him in the halls.”
Saulen snapped back, “Cool guy? He was the best.” If she went on another tidbit about any of his supposed flaws, he swore.
She sighed again, “I don’t know why any man would want six wives, much less eight kids… all born before he turned thirty too.”
Saulen hadn’t noticed his in-laws, or his nieces and nephews, they all felt inconsequential when compared to the man who tied them all together. This didn’t even include his paramours, the most beautiful men this nation had to offer, all tied through him. All returned to their homes or were thrown to the streets… all were dust in the wind now.
Pauline stepped between Saulen and the image, “Come on, we’re almost there!” She continued her speed walking, reinvigorated as if they hadn’t stopped to look at Abramus. They took a few more turns, slunk past two patrols of tired guards, and finally, reached an abrupt halt. And as if she was showing off some grand discovery, she held her hand out, directing his vision to a blank wall. Pristine and gilded in silver, but still blank. Until, with another hand, she pointed down to show off a clay cup. Her eyes never left his as she knelt down and lifted it up to reveal a mouse, its maw was open and gaping, its eyes in the back of its head, and body sprawled out.
Pauline turned to Abramus with an uneasy look that felt as if it was meant to inspire reassurance. “I found it in the kitchen this morning, the chefs have a bunch of traps set up… at first I thought the spell required life, but then I realized it only needs blood… inhuman blood.”
Saulen felt his heart sink for a second, her face was comforting, but the situation had his hair standing on edge. “Pauline, what is this?” He asked taking a step back.
Pauline smiled and reached for a small bulb that was sticking out of her gown. She pulled the bulb out to reveal a pin before sticking the pin into the dead mouse. Saulen felt a strange mixture of intrigue and disgust as blood began to seep from the grey fur, turning the grey cadaver a deep crimson
Pauline locked eyes with him and smiled before pulling the red pin out and sticking it back in her gown. “You see a plain wall, don’t you? Look closer.”
Saulen turned back to the blank wall, still, he couldn’t see anything. That’s when Pauline suddenly grasped his wrist. Her grip was tight, almost painful, but not quite there. The lack of gentleness reassured him, it was direct with no ulterior motive, it was harsh but kind, unlike others who preferred to lightly touch as if their fingers were insects crawling along his body. She maneuvered his hand up to the wall and pressed him onto a specific spot.
“Feel it.” She urged as she moved his hand across the wall. From left to right, up and down, and around in circles.
As he pressed his hand into the wall he couldn’t help but notice indents where he felt, some were long, some were swirled. They were symbols, or words, or something. And it was carved into the wall. So light and graceful that one couldn’t see it unless they really looked. But the longer he looked, the easier it became to see the symbols and letters. It was difficult to initially tell what the symbols were, but one stood out among them. A spined drop falling onto a plant, it was the symbol for blood magic.
“Is that why you need the mouse?” He asked her, knowing full well what her response would be.
She gave a light chuckle before responding, “Took you long enough to figure that one out.” And with that, she pulled his hand away and slammed the bloodied mouse into the symbol. The blood seeped into the wall, fading as if it was never there, to begin with. The wall parted to reveal a long dark corridor, though the darkness was soon replaced with light as torches lit up two by two down the hall.
Pauline, with her hand still tightly squeezed around his wrist, pulled him through the corridor. Saulen didn’t even have time to struggle against her before the corridor closed them off from the outside world. A single rune appeared to mark where they had come from. As she pulled him down the corridor, Saulen opened his mouth to object.
Though as if she knew he would, Pauline hissed, “Wait wait wait, we’re almost there, you’ll love it! I know I went crazy when I first found this place.”
The two rushed up ramps and took at least five turns, more runes appeared and disappeared as the pair flew by them in their rush. This continued for what had to be one straight minute of confusion before Pauline stopped in her tracked and pointed at a rune. She smiled and gave him an impish look before giving it a single tap. The rune shimmered and buzzed before the wall space around it parted into dozens of rectangles. It reminded Saulen of a geometric puzzle being carefully taken apart, sliding away from each other, and like that, the rune was gone. What replaced it was the cool grey sky of the outside world. The sun tried to break through, its white light breaching the barrier, but not quite shining through.
Saulen’s heart thumped, he would love it more, but this land wasn’t his, he was born here, but he didn’t belong here. “What is this place?” He found himself asking, reluctant to step forward.
Pauline shrugged as she stepped in front of him. Taking in a deep breath through her nostrils before letting out a light sigh. “I’m unsure… a secret meeting spot for spies or lovers.” Her tone had whimsy to it, “...Or…” she paused and turned around. “It’s been in the foundation of the castle since its inception, and its purpose along with the reason behind its creation were lost to time. Either way, it’s ours now, free for us to do what we want with it. Dozens of secret locations to hang out in, but this is the best for one reason.” Pauline took a few steps forward before sucking in the air and letting out an ear-piercing scream. Followed by her yelling, “Go to Hell Mother, when I’m the matriarch I’m gonna invest in foreign stocks, learn to program, and use all of the sewing machines I want!” She turned back to him, her eyes wide and feral, long dribble fell down to her chin, before dripping onto the floor of the balcony. She wiped it away with a snarl before chuckling her oafish chuckle that reminded him of a mad gremlin. “Now your turn bro.”
Saulen felt a smile grow on his face before he ran to the very edge, grabbing a railing and roaring out into the sky. “I am the rightful king of Westerrias, younger brother of Abramus! I shall master all forms of magic, and sail across the sea with an army at my back. And bring magic back to the continent… and then the world shall be ours again!” He found himself turning back to Pauline, “You’re the best friend a prince could ask for.”
Pauline bowed her head and gave a clumsy curtsy, “What are friends for…? Now what else grinds your gears?”
Saulen thought for a moment before turning back out to the sky overhead, tears welling up in his eyes, “I just want to be better….”
The pair had gone on for a good hour. They took some time to rest in between sessions of yelling and complaining. They began with complaining about their experiences, then people who made their lives worse, then eventually their rants dwindled into mundane complaints. Saulen’s last complaint was about a bug that recently bit him. After that, the enthusiasm and passion had withered away, and they lazed around for thirty more minutes before deciding to return to the strange series of corridors.
Just before they reached the final turn Pauline let out a quick sigh, “Wasn’t that fun? Just getting everything out… where are you going?” She asked, firmly gripping his shoulder.
Saulen raised an eyebrow, “Back out the way we came.” He attempted to move forward, but she only squeezed down harder.
Pauline pulled him back, “Nu-uh.” She shook her head and placed her full palm on the rune next to her. “This is the way out.” She insisted, not even turning around.
Saulen’s heart sank as the wall parted, “No!” he cried out, “No, no, no, no, no!” All he could do was move back, grabbing onto her arm and pulling her back with him.
Her response was her own tug, “You can’t use magic, I’m not leaving you in here.”
Saulen gave her one last pull until he heard a creek. All it took was a glance behind Pauline to see the door opening. All it took was a moment for him to see the golden swirls engraved onto the dark umber wood. A distant memory back to when he was younger flashed in his mind. His brother held meetings with allies and military leaders. He only caught glances before being sent off while the adults spoke of war politics. Within the split second his mind had slipped back into the past, Pauline managed to pull him outside. He must’ve slipped or lost his footing because the next thing he knew he was on the ground, and his arm was aching. And Pauline was on her back.
“Black and white hair? Is this our prince or a skunk?” The new voice was feminine in nature, though it wasn’t familiar.
Another more masculine voice seconded her observation, it was heavy with accent, eastern maybe. “When you put him next to the girl he reminds me less of a skunk and more of a- er- dumb rat.”
“You mean clumsy rat?” The first voice responded with a sigh.
The masculine voice sighed and corrected himself, “Two clumsy rats… or drunk birds.” He punctuated that with a chuckle that felt more malicious than amused.
Saulen looked up to see a pair of familiar diplomats and General Sviatoslavin. Though beside them were five eastern-looking individuals, two tan men, one thin and the other extremely brawny looking. A pale man in a suit of indigo armor, a woman garbed in what seemed to be heavy and extravagant red and white garbs. He thought about it for a moment before realizing it was a Kimono. And finally, a girl who was significantly smaller than the other strangers. Upon realizing that these were proper guests, Saulen hauled himself up, and bowed his head to them, Pauline following his action with her own proper curtsy.
Saulen spoke first, “Apologies, I am Prince Saulen Sihrmanitou, son of Malek Sihrmanitou and Lucia Arcarnius.”
Pauline wasted no second introducing herself, her tone was rigid and proper. “I am Pauline, heir to the Vedmasobaka family.”
When Saulen finally got a better look at them, he realized the short girl was in fact a woman, her adult features giving it away. Though what truly caught his eyes was their hair. No one of higher status from any culture that he knew of dyed and fashioned their hair in such a vivid manner. The brawny man, who was also the tallest, had jade-green hair, it reminded him of a porcupine or ancient drawings of the sun. Each spike of his hair seemed more like armor than actual hair. Jutting out as if it wanted to stab him where he stood. The thin man had ocean-blue hair modeled after a bat's spread wings. As it descended his face, and became sideburns, the blue hair seems to mimic the ocean’s harsh waves, or at least an artistic rendition of them. And finally ending in a long twisted beard. The man clad in purple armor had his dark violet hair done into a spiky bun. While his beard jutted out into a single, long, horn-like protrusion. The short woman’s hair made Saulen second guess himself concerning their gender. But after a long time staring, he was convinced that they were a woman. Though her white hair jutted out like a rhinoceros horn with an electric yellow tip. And finally, the woman in the kimono allowed her black and crimson hair to freely flow around her. Her hair lips were almost as red as her hair, if it wasn’t so seamless and natural looking he would’ve guessed she was bleeding. Her most striking feature wasn’t her hair though, it was her nails, just peeking out of her kimono, her black nails seemed more like claws. Sharp and emanating luster.
Finally, the smaller woman spoke up, her teeth were serrated and her smile was predatory, but somehow still just as impish as Pauline’s. When she spoke, her accent was present, yet faint. “Please to meet you Prince Saulen… we’ve all waited some time to finally lay eyes on you.”