Inspector Gwen Goodworth steps out of his house, whistling a happy tune. He waves at the potion maker living across the street and picks up the Daily Herald- his favorite newspaper from his porch. He walks to a wicker chair in his front garden, sits and unrolls the paper, and cringes when he sees the main page. There is a big picture of Uram on the page and Gwen’s tiny picture on the bottom.

Uram the Betrayer is still at large.

The Kingdom of Liondale is at war with rebels. Taxes are rising. People are suffering. Crops are failing. Evil things haunt the nights because the man everyone loved betrayed the people. Uram was the shining star of Liondale. His misdeeds have astonished people. His fellow students at the School of Magic had loved him. His teachers had adored him. The King himself had celebrated him by awarding him the Medal of Honor. However, Uram unleashed darkness upon the world when he killed our beloved Prince Jona Caleb Lionheart.

Inspector Gwen Goodworth is King’s taskmaster to hunt down Uram the Betrayer. According to professors who taught them both, Gwensol has been as competent at magic as Uram. However, Gwensol is not as famous. He has not made a name for himself at university by saving his fellow students from dragons. He has not sailed to catch Gildor’s calf for Princess Marian. He has not learned spell fighting from reclusive Grand Mage Palmin. He has not hunted down the notorious Darkwolf gang singlehandedly. Gwensol has been a silent genius, working for the betterment of the Kingdom.

We hope Inspector Gwensol brings the Betrayer to Justice soon and saves the people from these dark times***

Gwensol hurries back into his house and throws the paper in the bin. “What’s the matter? Weather is not good outside?” His servant Shom calls out from the kitchen. “I was just bringing your tea.”

“I’ll drink it inside,” Gwen tells him as he sits on the couch. “It’s hot outside.” He hears a small grunt, and a moment later, Shom comes out with a tray laden with a teapot, a cup, and biscuits. He puts the tray on the table and makes tea with small cream and one cube of sugar, as Gwen likes.

“Is the newspaper bothering you again?” Shom asks as he stares out of the window. “I see no loiters or reporters.”

“They are comparing me to Uram Brightstar,” Gwen snarls. “How can I compare with that guy with his sky-high accomplishments? It is not a duel between him and I. The whole police are looking for him. Now everyone will be dogging me to see what I am doing. How will I find him when reporters follow me everywhere I go?”

Shom shudders. “What if Uram gets here?” he asks as he looks at the door with wide eyes. “I heard he laughed when he killed the Prince and drank his blood!”

Gwen scoffs. “Don’t bullshit me, Shom,” he snaps. “He is not a demon.”

“Are you sure?” Shom asks and slinks into the kitchen, staring at every dark corner of the house.

Gwen rubs his head and drinks his tea. After breakfast, he bathes, dresses in a black suit, and wears an overcoat to save him from the frequent rains famous in the Capital. He steps into his backyard and finds his black Pegasus saddled and ready. He climbs on it and is in the air in two strides. The Police station is within walking distance from his home, but he does not want people accosting him unnecessarily, so he takes his flying horse.

Gwen lands Pegasus on the station’s wide roof, where grooms take it from him. He looks about to see if rain is imminent and sees the golden roof of the Grand Palace glinting in the sun. The Police tower is the second tallest building in the City after the Palace, and between them lies thousands of houses, shops, and gardens. Since its inception, Capital has become a deep warren whose lairs are impossible to unwrap. Maybe Uram is sitting somewhere in this dump and laughing at us.

Gwen takes the stairs to reach his chamber on the tower’s third floor. His deputies salute as he passes, and he waves at them to sit down. The only window of his room overlooks the Palace and binoculars on his table provide him with an uncanny view of the Princess’s balcony. Gwen is no voyeur, nor is he interested in Princess, but Uram is infatuated with her.

Gwen picks up his binoculars, but a knock on his door stops him from using them. He puts them back and sits on his chair. “Come in,” he calls, and Melinda steps inside. She wrinkles her big nose and pulls at her long pony. “Some filthy merchant is standing outside demanding to see you.”

“Throw him away,” Gwen says.

She frowns. “I think you should meet him, sir. He says he has some crucial information about…Uram.” She licks her lips.

Gwen sighs. “All right, show him to the backyard. Don’t let any reporter see us talking.”

Melinda grins and hurries away. Gwen glances at a big pile of papers he needs to go through and sighs. I hate this job. He hurries down the tower and enters the backyard, where constables are practicing on straw targets with crossbows. He sees Melinda standing beside a portly man in a filthy cloak, strides toward them, and tells Melinda to go back. She glares at him before shuffling away. Is she vying for my job? She is welcome to take it when King lets me go.

“Tell me in one line what I need to hear. If it’s not useful, I’ll put you in jail.”

The merchant gulps. “I know where the betrayer is.” he squeaks.

Gwen grabs his collar. “Then tell me,” he snarls.

“In Parton City, he mended my Pegasus injured by bandits.” The merchant stammers.

Gwen releases him. “Now you are talking.” He takes his long cigarette out and lights it with a fire spell. He takes a long swig and blows a smoke ring toward the merchant. “Where in Parton?” he asks.

Merchant blinks and says, “He runs a beast healer shop.”

Gwen extends his cig to the merchant, who takes it in trembling hands. He places his big hand on the merchant’s shoulder. “If you lied to me, I’ll send you to Murdok.” The merchant freezes. Gwen smiles and pats him on the back. “Don’t tell anyone about this, even other police.” The merchant nods. “Now, tell me your name and address.” After jotting down the merchant’s information in his pocket diary and sending the man away, Gwen hurries back to the tower.

Gwen does not believe the merchant, but very few people can be mistaken for Uram. He is famous for his long purple hair and blindingly handsome face, which is why people believe he is a descendant of celestials who taught humankind magic. Gwen has pursued every rumor about Urom, no matter how improbable. There were rumors of Urom being in Yalda and no eyewitness; still, Gwen had spent three months looking for him there in vain. Now, he plans to visit Parton.

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

Gwen tells Melinda he is going out without telling her where, as he doesn’t know who is talking to the reporters. He climbs to the rooftop, takes his Pegasus back to his house, packs a small bag, and flies to the dragon port. He pays for a one-way flight to Parton and boards the dragon flight- a long house strapped to the dragon’s belly. He reaches Parton City five hours later.

At Parton Dragon Port, Gwen books a room at the inn and takes an open coach pulled by a pair of Hofdeer- one white and one black to search for Uram’s shop. The coach’s driver is a small man with a pointy hat and big mustaches. He grins and tells Gwen, “Parton City borders the Great Wilderness in the south and Blue Daggers in the east, so the weather is always serene here.” Gwen stays quiet. He does not want to offend the cheerful little man.

He does not blame the coachman for mistaking Gwen for a city boy. Gwen wears a long black coat over the blue suit, a typical dress worn by people from the Capital. “Look at the mountains,” the driver says as he points eastward. “The baby dragons are learning to fly.” Gwen sees three baby dragons flying low over mountains in a jerky manner. They soon disappear into trees. He sees cottony clouds drifting overhead and the sun shining mildly. Gwen sees five guards in green uniforms riding unicorns and patrolling the main boulevard. “We are here, sir,” the driver says. “The Beast Keeper’s shop is on the left.” Gwen climbs down, pays two copper crowns to the man, and turns his eyes to the yellow-painted shop.

A small garden in front has two bamboo chairs and a table. Pots with white roses growing out of them border the garden. Purple bellflowers crowd the vines climbing over the walls, and a red bead curtain covers the doorway to the healer’s house. No way is this Uram’s shop. I’ll throw that fat bastard into the sea. Gwen thinks before stepping into the shop. Gwen finds a purple-haired man bandaging a hippogriff’s leg and hears the unmistakable voice of Uram Brightstar. “Take a seat, Gwen,” he says. “This fellow needs more attention.”

Gwen is confused. He finds no fear or surprise in Uram’s behavior. He acts as if Gwen is his neighbor coming over for a drink. Gwen knows that only cocky and strong take him lightly. Uram is not cocky. He knows that. Uram is powerful. I, too, am powerful. Maybe I am Uram’s equal. Professors believe that. Gwen wants to put pressure of aura on Uram, but he doesn’t do it. A premonition stops him. Mages are sensitive to strings of fate. Gwen’s senses tell him. Don’t poke the sleepy bear.

Gwen glances at the waiting chair near the wall and sits on it. He watches Uram working on Hippogriff’s leg. He is good. Not even a professor of healing magic can mend broken bones so cleanly. He sees Uram weaving time, matter, and soul essences into complex spells. After a few minutes, Uram takes the bandage off. Gwen is surprised to see the new leg of the hippogriff. The beast nuzzles Uram on the cheek before walking out. It flies away silently. Uram is baffled when he finds no collar on it. Was he treating wild hippogriff?  It can’t be. He must have taken the beast young.

Uram stands up and stares at Gwen. “I called you over for an urgent matter,” Uram says as he washes his hands in the sink. He called me, so the merchant has set me up. I’ll wring his neck. “King does not favor me.” He chuckles. “Atima has always been a sensitive man. Tell him it’s not good to dwell on the past.” He wipes his hands and walks to the table. He opens a drawer and pours a Yalda whiskey into two glasses. He picks up the glasses, walks toward Gwen, and hands him one of the glasses. “I did him a favor. His son was dabbling in forbidden magic. He should have stopped his son.” He sighs. “Alas, love of children makes all parents blind.” He takes a big gulp of drink and sits in a nearby chair. He straightens his legs and leans back. “I warned Jona to mend his way, but he didn’t listen. When he hurt Marian, I took his chance away.” Uram looks at him. Gwen keeps his face expressionless, but inside, he shivers. Uram’s eyes show no remorse and promise of mayhem. “I am giving you a chance Gwen. Will you take it or throw it away?”

Gwen has met many hardened criminals and learned to keep his wits when talking to dangerous people. “I don’t dabble in forbidden magic,” Gwen tells him.

Uram blinks and opens his mouth in confusion. His eyes turn from murderous to playful. “I am sorry, Gwen,” he says. “I didn’t mean to spook you.” He shakes his head and sighs. “I don’t suspect you. I know you are one of the good men.” He takes a sip. “I meant that I want to clear my name. I am tired of living in hiding. I am destined to revolutionize magic, not heal broken ankles. The King knows I did no wrong. Marian knows.” He sighs and puts his face in his hand. “She should have sided with me.” He mutters. He finishes the drink and glances at Gwen. His eyes have reddened and turned glossy. “Do you love someone, Gwen?”

Gwen clears his throat. “There is a girl I fancy,” he says.

Uram snorts. “Don’t marry her,” he advises. “Marry for money or power but not for love. Love is fickle.”

“We both know that I can’t force King and Princess,” Gwen tells him. “He wants your head on his wall Uram. I have never heard Marian saying anything good about you.”

Uram’s eyes grow hard. He clenches his jaw and whispers, “Has she now?” He closes his eyes and sighs. “I cannot believe that Marian did not love me. She may hate me now, but I don’t understand why. Prince Jona was a monster who did not deserve pity, not even from his sister.”

“You killed her brother,” Gwen tells him.

Uram nods. “I did. Didn’t I?” He mutters and stands up. He places the glass on the table and looks down at Gwen. “Can I trust you to do as I said?”

Gwen stands up and glares at Uram. Uram squares with him and stares back. Blessed blood, this guy is crazy strong. Has he hidden his powers in school, or is he gaining strength even now? People don’t grow their powers after sixteen. Step carefully now, Gwen. Don’t stab a dragon in the face because another dragon has forced you. Find a middle ground and slink away. Gwen looks down. “They wish me to fight you,” he says.

“Can you,” Uram asks softly, making Gwen’s skin crawl and his heart jump out of his throat.

Gwen sighs and steps out of the shop. He takes a deep breath of mountain air and returns to the inn where he has dropped his luggage. The half-hour walk clears Gwen’s head, and his heartbeat becomes regular, but the itch between his shoulders never recedes, as if someone is pointing a dagger at him. Now I know how being between a rock and a hard place feels. Reaching his inn room, he takes a long shower and sleeps. When it eludes him, he goes to a bar and buys a bottle of the finest whiskey. He returns to his room and nurses on the bottle until he grows so drunk that everything stops mattering. He collapses on the bed and dreams of sweet Fiona. I’ll ask her to marry me. I must have her before death takes me away.

He wakes up to a cacophony of birds outside. He blinks at the sunlight and sees bluebirds sitting on his windowsill. The sun has filled his room with warmth. He climbs out of the sweaty blanket and heads for the bathroom. He stands below the cold water, letting it drain his headache and nightmares. When he exits the bathroom, he is sober enough to find stacks of big and small diaries on the small bedside table. He scratches his head, picks a note beneath the diaries, and reads.

Sorry for last night; I didn’t intend to scare you. I have grown bitter since the sick day of Jona’s death. Nothing goes unpunished in this life, not even good deeds. I thought I’d stop another Gornak from rising, but I never thought about the sacrifice I must make. Losing someone I love most is the worst punishment I can ever receive. Death will be mercy, but I won’t end this life. I’ll live my punishment to the fullest. Don’t fret about finding me. I won’t come back to Liondale again.

The papers I left you hold the work of my life. My ideas will revolutionize magic, and the nation putting them into action will become most powerful. I love Liondale. I don’t want it to lag. Use my research wisely.

There is also my autobiography. I hope Marian receives it.

Uram

Gwen picks diaries and skims through them. He finds various diagrams, potion recipes, and new spells. There is a small diary at the bottom written in tiny handwriting. It must be his biography. Shall I read it? He intends it for Marian. Well, it won’t hurt anyone if I read it. He won’t find out.

Gwen places the diaries back on the table and lies on the bed to read from the small diary to learn about the life of the most famous man in a hundred years.