“You son of a Nardorish,” I say between clenched teeth.

“To many, that is not a curse. To some, it is a true state, one leading to happiness,” Eelian replies, grinning.

“If you make a move I will kill you where you stand,” I say, trying to remain calm and not let my guards notice. I want a few words alone with Eelian before he’s captured.

“Come now, Millar, there is no need for compulsory hatred. I did nothing more than open your eyes to a new world.”

“A world that doesn’t exist,” I say, a little too loudly.

Beln turns his head toward me. I tilt my head to the other end of the square, one of the streets that run into it. Beln was with me in Severdom. He was my guard on my diplomatic journey around the kingdom. He knows what this signal means. Beln and the other guards fan out and stand at all the square’s exits.

“History is true whether you choose to believe it or not,” Eelian says, petting Hunter. She bobs her head.

“Don’t give me that. How can your tale be history if it’s about another planet? That doesn’t make sense,” I say, not lowering my voice anymore.

“What doesn’t make sense is why you are so angry. Does ending your ignorance hurt that much?”

“I want to know the truth, that’s all. And you snuck into my room in the Iron Palace. I won’t risk letting you come again, telling me a fantasy about heroes that don’t exist.”

Eelian pulls back his hood and looks up at me with those green eyes. “Do you really believe that? Or do you doubt?” he asks and grins again. “Do you really want to know the truth?”

Before I can open my mouth to respond, Eelian darts off through the crowd. Fool. I’ve got him now.

“Move!” I shout and kick my horse.

People part out of the way and I race after the strangely fast old man. He slips through the crowd and shows none of the sluggishness he had while walking. Many people shout with irritation before they realize it was I who made them stop.

Eelian races toward an alley. Unfortunately, Beln has not yet reached that exit, so Eelian manages to get through. I catch up through the small crowd in the narrowing streets. My horse’s hooves beat loudly, pa-dum pa-dum on the flat stones as the old man ducks down a side-street, just before I overrun him.

Without pausing, I swing down from my saddle and hit the ground running. I chase the old man down the street, shouting, “You! Hey, stop!”

A dozen or so shoppers and workers freeze, thinking I’m yelling at them. When they see I’m after someone else, a few follow behind to help in the chase.

A woman opens a door ahead and shouts with anger as Eelian jumps inside. Her eyes go even wider with shock as I, followed by a couple of my guards and half a dozen citizens, run past her.

“For the prince!” the excited citizens shout.

The house is wooden, similar to many others on this street, and with the bottom half containing a stone-floored kitchen that’s currently empty. I run up the narrow wooden steps by the door. They creak angrily as I go two at a time and run down the upstairs hallway, past a few cheaply drawn portraits of the owner’s family.

The bedroom door at the end of the hallway is open and I run inside. It’s furnished with practical yet well-made items, but is completely empty. I run over to the closed window and hear the creaking footsteps of the others as they search the remaining rooms.

Opening the window, I see Len down below. “Did you see him jump down?” I yell out.

Len stops suddenly, not expecting to see me up there. “No, we didn’t see anyone,” he says.

I pound on the windowsill and turn around. I’m left alone in the room as my group noisily searches the rest of the house. So when I see a glint of red, shimmering from the light shining through the open window, no one hears the small shout of surprise I make.

Lying on the blue and green quilted bed, on a white piece of paper, is a knife. Trembling, I walk over and pick it up. The blue hilt is cool and worn smooth. It’s less than impressive in design and may have been made by a very unskilled person. The edge on the small blade is made out of a pure red substance, something deeper than blood and stronger than steel.

“Jasper,” I whisper as I delicately turn the knife over in my hands. Only then do I see what’s written on the paper.

So you do want to know the truth.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

The Kingdom of Grundar is vast and powerful. We conquered the feudal peoples of Grundlin. We swept across the plains of Shalem, their farms and horses fueling the wealth of the kingdom they now love and brought through the stockyards of brick paved Bershalem. With that cavalry we took the wealth and prosperity of Mylea. Their tradesmen and navy spread the power of Grundar everywhere.

Though the war there was costly for both and they’ve yet to join our army in offensive measures, the people of Gale still claim to be part of Grundar. Their forest is rich in minerals and their lumber is used all over the kingdom.

Even Sever is quickly joining the Grundarin banner, leaving behind their old, over-proud ways. Not much of that kingdom is left independent, and most of their knowledge and riches goes to Grundar. We always said their wall couldn’t keep us out for long.

I saw all these places on my journey across the kingdom. I went to Castle Morandus in that ancient city. Its walls are still marked with the from soot when we took it so long ago. The castle is wide and surrounded by many grey stone walls, the pride of those now Grundarin-proud people.

In Shalem, the grain is high and waves in the wind. I met a horse master who was ecstatic to see me ride his prized stallion.

In Mylea, the massive boats line the docks of Nestte by the dozens. Craftsmen diligently work on their wares and men and women sell them in mass markets. They’re not lying when they boast of the prowess of their trade.

In Gale, I found one of the wandering villages. The buildings that look like they grew out of the ground are crowded with people. I sat in on a poetry reading there, taking pride in the genius of these people. They said they would aid me if Nardor gained the upper-hand and threatened the kingdom.

In Sever, I went to the College of Sever. I read books about science and biology. I talked about the nature of man’s existence with a professor. We both agreed that finding man’s inner strength is the greatest pursuit in life.

And then there’s Nardor. The southern regions, just past the Warrite Mountains, are controlled by Grundar, including the elevated city Nardun, but only just. Their people are stubborn, and bandits are everywhere. That’s why I’m taking my massive army North, to that nation’s capital. Finally, Nardor will be subjugated, and their wealth and prosperity will fuel the fires of Grundar’s great people for years.

There’s just one problem. I’m not ready to go yet.

“Your father won’t like this very much,” my mother, Queen Vims Grundarin, says as she signs another bill. Her secretary, a short, fat man with a conical hat, takes the sheet and replaces it with another. My mother reads as I talk to her.

“Tell him I just have to work a few things out. And if the men see me tonight, they’ll think we’re marching. Do you know how disappointed they’ll be if I tell them I’m still not sure?” I say, pacing around my mother’s office. A small fire glows in the fireplace, its mantle rimmed with polished metal around black stone.

“The night reception is something he loves. He’s addressing the troops and would appreciate being able to give good news to them. You and your brother worked out your invasion strategy a week ago, Millar, why are you suddenly so timid?” My mother looks up at me with her small, grey eyes. She cracks her fingers, weary after a long day. A short woman, my mother likes to put her blonde hair down to make her look even shorter.

“I’m not timid,” I say as I stop in front of the fire. My mother stops reading and clicks her quill against her thick desk. “I just want to make sure everything is right before I go. There’s still more planning to do.”

She stands up, her chair creaking on the tiles as she walks over to me. She gives me a hug and pats my head. “You’re stronger than Steel himself, Millar. And one day history will call you the Nardor Conqueror. But history does not wait for the timid. If you don’t hurry, I’m afraid your father will ask your brother to take this command.”

My mother lets me go and looks me in the eye. I open my mouth wide with shock.

“He’s always been impatient,” she adds.

I gulp.

“I’ll make the announcement tomorrow,” I blurt out before I can think.

My mother smiles. “That’s more like it,” she says, and sits back down. “I love your brother, Millar. But he lacks your intelligence and cunning. He’ll make a fine general and you’ll make a great king.”

“Goodnight, Mother,” I say, and walk out of the office.

“Goodnight, Millar,” she says, not looking up from the bill she’s begun reading.

Len told me I was making a mistake. He told me it would be better for me to go to my father and just get on with the war already. But he also told me I had to do what I felt was necessary. The quest for knowledge is always necessary.

I shut my door and lock it, not turning around into my lighted room as the metal clasp goes down with a crank. I sigh and lean on the door, not sure if I’ve made the right choice.

“I knew you’d be here,” I say. “I knew you’d come and that’s why I didn’t go to my father tonight.”

I turn around. Sitting on my bed, twirling two small, polished metal balls in his hand, is Eelian.

“I told you I would return, did I not?” Eelian asks as I walk toward him. He’s been munching on the food I laid out for him.

“Just tell me,” I say, and pull out the now sheathed knife and toss it to him. He catches it and keeps twirling those balls in his other hand. “Is it Jasper’s?”

“Part of life is never being sure,” Eelian says, and puts the knife in his cloak.

I roll my eyes. “So what are you sure of?”

“That you are unsure.”

I roll my eyes wider.

“But do not worry, Prince Millar. All that I say is true. It is not in my practice to lie about such things,” Eelian adds.

“So will you tell me more about Jasper tonight, then?” I ask, and sit down in my chair, taking off my shoes. “I hope you know what I’ve sacrificed to see you tonight.”

Eelian doesn’t say anything. He simply looks at me with annoyance. Slowly, he lifts his arm and points a bony finger at the chest I sat on last night. Like silently growling dogs, we stare at each other for a few seconds, the only sound the clacking of those little balls in his hand. Then I get up and walk over to the chest, trying to salvage as much of my pride as possible as I sit down.

“A sacrifice to one is a daily occurrence to another,” Eelian says. “Don’t expect any sympathy from me. You chose to come here. You chose to listen to me.”

“Now wait a second, I only let you—” I start, but he interrupts me, stuffing the balls into his pocket.

“And now you will choose to be silent while I tell you another tale,” Eelian says, and waits with his eyebrows high.

For fear he’ll leave if I say another word, I shut my mouth.

“Good,” he says. “Tonight, you will not hear more of Jasper. Raise no objections because you will not hear any remnants of the Ambassador’s tale again. But you will hear a tale.”

I relax back down onto the chest.

“The next tale comes thousands of years after Jasper the Ambassador passed on,” Eelian begins. “It is on a vastly different world than the one the Prophets first set out upon. But I assure you, this tale also occurred a long time ago.”