Tall Tales: The Nymphs' Symphony

By Scott T Beith

‘The Nymphs’ Symphony’ is the first installment of the ‘Tall Tales’ saga; a fairytale fable covering the bizarre yet lavish life of ‘Kya’, a ‘forest nymph’ servant who was unofficially adopted into the royal family after befriending a slightly younger but more mischievous adolescent princess.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Scott Beith
• Release date: Apr 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9780648521617

Book preview

1

Paradise

KYA! someone screamed in the distance, breaking me from my pleasant daydreams as blood rushed to my head in an almost dizzying panic. I fumbled the washcloth in my hands as I gripped the stone statue in front of me to reaffirm my balance, so startled by the voice. The statue was of Queen Milena. A strong slender silver-haired serpent of a woman in royal regalia. A military commander by trade, depicted wearing the most deceiving of elegant robes.

I quickly let go of the statue and began cleaning it instead – something I was meant to be doing rather than daydreaming – right before Queen Milena herself stormed in to view. She was more than just the toughest of military minds. She was a goddess of war, with an admirably but intimidating form of leadership. She was old now, but still beautiful, having maintained a remarkable embodiment of youth across all her flawless facial features. Enough to make one wonder if she ever aged at all.

She reminded me of the old fables about sea-witches: enchanted women with snakes for hair who sang a beautiful melody that succumbed all men to their gloomy doom. And in pure honesty, Queen Milena wasn’t too different from that. She was one step shy of scales and a harpy physique, but she had a fearful stone gaze she kept hidden until she settled her eyes on me…

WHERE IS SHE?! she shouted, shattering the peaceful serenity that surrounded this gentle and holy sanctuary of hers.

We were in the backyard water gardens of her humble estate, where she had a glasshouse pool and tropical oasis that she’d personally manufactured for her own solitary leisure.

She was a ‘hands on’ kind of woman and had not only designed the beautiful and decorative features I saw around me, but also built them too. There was a stone waterfall pool, a lagoon and a bar too perfect to be naturally conceived. How she’d even got those boulders up there was a mystery to me. It was like she had lived fifty lifetimes and in each generation she had learned a different tool of the trade.

Queen Milena stormed towards me, stopping one short breath from me. Well? where is she?

I... don’t know, my lady… I muttered with my eyes downcast.

YOU DON’T KNOW? she yelled, sparking up now that she was assured she had a rightful reason to be mad at me. You don’t know where your princess is? Her tone was nearly flammable, ready to ignite her royal iridescent spider silk gown. Watching her is your number one job, Kya. I don’t care if my statue has a smudge on it when it means my daughter could be dead in a ditch somewhere.

I was lost for words. I knew I needed to defend myself, but I was lost for an excuse that would explain my innocence. I’m so sorry, my queen. She was here a moment ago.

"Where she was means nothing to me. Where is she going?" she demanded, practically pressing her face into mine as she poked her bony finger at my chest.

I stared at the floor, trying to avoid her basilisk eyes. The anger she had for her misbehaving teenage daughter was now spilling out onto me. Displaced as she had no one else but me to vent it upon.

I tried to mount my own small defence and said, She is very skilful in subtlety, your majesty. She must have eluded me intentionally, I claimed, trying to justify my own neglectful babysitting.

Yes, I’m very aware of her gifts, she said calmly, my words seeming to have ended her fiery rampage, and how they might supersede your own observational skills… she continued, patting down her silk gown as she tried to flatten its tiny flexed ridges. Her voice softened as she trialled a tone of compassion. But you’re supposed to be caring for her. You know what she’s like, yet you’ve allowed her to sneak off into heaven knows what kind of turmoil.

She fell quiet, and I could sense she hoped my guilt would make me confess all my sins due to her one sincere moment of empathy. Although with a clean conscience it only granted me a bigger chance to gather my own thoughts and figure a way out of this potentially life-threatening predicament.

I considered telling her I’d go find her daughter – which I’m sure is what she wanted to hear – but I kept quiet, knowing full well the ramifications that might come with such a sacred oath. Instead I chose to stand there in an uncomfortable silence, my head dropping in surrender.

Queen Milena huffed when she realised her guilt trap had failed and turned her back on me, deciding what to do with me. My nerves amplified when she turned back to deliver her verdict. We are in the midst of a dangerous war. OR HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THAT?! she yelled, the fire in her igniting again. I remained quiet, only provoking her further. "If she is out of your sight ever again – even momentarily – you will run and tell someone, she barked, locking me into her deadly gaze. Are we clear?" she threatened, poking me again with her bony index finger.

Keeping an eye on her stealthy daughter’s every movements was beyond impossible, but I could tell she wouldn’t listen to reason, her parental distress having clouded her common sense. I had no choice but to humour her. Again, I am so sorry, I pleaded, hands together in a small beg for mercy, giving her the sole satisfaction she was longing for: an apology and the acceptance of fault – two things she insatiably craved.

I nodded shamefully once again, like a scolded pet, accepting I had done her some wrong. I was Princess Anara’s maid and babysitter, but I felt more like a sister. I understood there were real dangers outside the castle. Dangers the princess had once again run off to seek.

Now, I do not care how you do it, or what method you are forced to muster, Queen Milena said, you will find her and bring her back to me unharmed. Her stare told me refusing wasn’t an option. I dropped my gaze from her demonic eyes and nodded to her conditions. And you better pray to all those angels above that she hasn’t made it out of this castle yet.

After accepting full accountability and blame, just so I could leave, I turned my back to her and hurried away as fast as I could.

AND DON’T YOU EVEN CONSIDER RETURNING HERE UNTIL YOU FIND HER! Queen Milena shouted after me as I escaped down the small garden stairs and left her private paradise behind, exiting the water gardens through the front gate.

I passed through the royal house, walking down the decadent red and gold hallway. I glimpsed at the ornaments and treasures as I moved: old sacred relics displayed like portraits along the walls, paintings woven from dyed silks depicting the grand architecture of Midas’s glorious prehistoric innovations.

Illustrations and precious minerals dangled above me as I exited out the huge open wooden doorway, running out the ancient sandstone manor that the new royal family called their home.

I stopped by a pillar to calm my mind and racing heart, and to take a moment to breathe.

I’ve always prided myself on being one of the cleverest nymphs in this kingdom. Other than my own best friend Akoni, who is inarguably the smartest one of us alive. I saw little equal among the general population around me. I mean I have always been an expert at solving problems when given the opportunity, always seeing that one clue that evades all others. All because I’m the type who questions life more than I choose to live in it. But at times of urgency, just like these, I have to confess all I could sense were the four square palace walls suddenly constricting around me.

My usual sharp mind became a misty fog of irrational fears concerning worst case scenarios, snagged by a debilitating fright that inhibits all ability for me to function and cope under pressure. Honestly, I am smart, but when it comes to moments of strife my mind lacks almost all instincts of improvisation that were essential of someone who could climb the ladder of wealth and nobility.

My lack of skill to function under pressure explains why I’m still just a servant in the royal house, and how I could still just be sitting there on the same seventh palace step almost a full five minutes later, taking more time than I can spare while trying to rationalise all of the heavy decisions rushing through my head.

I could hear the voices of cheerful townsfolk around me as they headed out for another glorious day in their warm cliffside paradise.

Eventually, I found my feet again, choosing to head towards the castle’s central marketplace, figuring most gossip starts there, and only spreads further and further uphill, depending on how high one might dare to travel. And so heading upwards, I walked towards the eastern cliff face that overlooked the great golden reef’s treacherous coastline.

The day itself seemed wonderful enough, with the sun lighting up all the distant sandy beaches below this high-rising castle. The golden frames of pillars and monuments bouncing light off all these buildings’ course stone steps. Light only ever dispersing when it head out towards our turquoise coloured sea.

Evidence of Midas’s long lost reign still glared over the land, the unfixable cracks and dents in the metal frames all indications of his once dire influence. Fractures ostentatiously unveiling themselves through the daylights refractive shine, as, most regrettably for us, with his defeat and immediate exile, all of his old street posts and window ledges had no means of his gilded repair. Meaning this brick and gold castle was stuck in a never ending deterioration. Something that was occurring so slowly and steadily that I might have been the only one to notice it.

Perhaps I wouldn’t have noticed it either if it wasn’t for the fear pulsing through me. You see, danger brings out the pessimist in me. If Anara hadn’t decided to frequently escape from her mother and the protection of these huge brick paved castle walls in search of adventures, I might not have noticed the cracks in this castle.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love Anara – as I previously said, she’s like a sister to me, which means everything when you lack a family of your own. But her sudden exploits always caused havoc for me. An adolescent princess, only a few years younger than myself, always running off and forgetting that while she was immune to her mother’s wrath, I was not.

I had a small clue of where Anara had run off to, based on the type of person the princess was. Princess Anara was the purest soul to walk this world. She was smart and courageous and loved by everyone. Her compassion for the lesser class was always inspirational, especially to me. She treated me as an equal, like a shunned family member she fought proudly to defend.

Despite her beauty, her kind heart, the fame and riches she possessed, the priceless silver sapphire tiara that sat on her pretty blonde hair, she had outstanding abilities. She could have been the stealthiest of scouts or the subtlest of spies, but instead she dedicated her time and magic to medicine and aid. She would often sneak out of the royal house to treat the sick and injured. She would skip meals to supply dinner for the hungry and homeless. Sometimes she’d even pose as a servant to help me during festive times. Her own mother could not find ways to punish her insolence as there was no job Anara felt herself too above to endure.

So after overhearing her mother talk about some recent ambushes occurring near the Ambervale Meadows, it didn’t take a keen insight to gather she was already halfway there, ready to help the injured by pulling them to safety from the middle of a battlefield.

Whether I was right about where she was or not, one thing was assured: the safest place for me was anywhere far away from Milena’s wrath.

Have you seen the princess today? I asked every merchant I came across, only to get confused questions in answer: You’ve lost her?; How did you lose her?

I felt my luck slowly running out every time I pleaded with passerby’s along the small road to help me, only for them to turn me away. Elderly civilians frowned in sympathy, remorseful of my predicament but too fearful of Milena’s fury to intervene and risk sharing in the responsibility of finding her daughter.

I took a break by a colourfully-clothed merchant setting up his vibrant stall. He was a middle-aged man with baggy purple and blue-dyed linen. He had a long towel wrapped around his entire body, with a huge red ruby stuffed in its centre, much like it was the custom of a faraway land. I suspected he might be a travelling merchant from as far out as The Badlands.

Undistracted by my slow waving approach towards him, the merchant continued roping the roof of his portable cart as he transformed it into a souvenir stand, getting ready for the midday rush of customers.

Excuse me, sir. Have you seen or heard about the princess today? I asked with a pleading glimmer of hope in my eyes. Enough to make him politely stop unloading his elixirs and other valuables to kindly offer me his undivided attention.

I was very hopeful he might have seen her. He looked like a roaming traveller who frequently visited the castle, and he might have seen the princess exit the castle this morning. He was also clearly no stranger to royalty – purple was the colour of it after all. It was the most costly dye on the planet, as the only way to extract the colour purple was through crushing millions of seashells.

Sorry, my dear, I’m afraid I haven’t seen anyone all day, he graciously replied. I was the last to come in before the gates were shut. I spent half my morning by those gates because of some clumsy guard who’d misplaced his keys. The colourful man divulged, causing me to freeze in a heightened excitement upon hearing it.

Did he find them in the end? I asked, hoping he hadn’t.

Phhhh, not at all, the vendor responded. The captain of the guard had to come down – created quite the argument, as you could imagine. Why do you– he began, but I cut him off.

How did he lose them?

Well, the guard claimed they had been stolen – taken right off his very belt.

I was so happy with this news I hugged the merchant before hurrying away, shouting out a quick thank you over my shoulder.

I skipped up to the nearest patrol guard with no doubt in my mind over who had taken those keys. Anara was the only assailant capable of stealing from a guard without leaving a single trace. Excuse me, sir. I believe Princess Anara has snuck out of the castle, could you escort me through? I asked, standing as tall and prime as possible.

The guard’s face turned pale with dread. Ughhh… I ca… he stumbled and stuttered to say, before coughing and trying again. Miss, I can’t allow you to go out there. Eclipses have been sighted as close as The King’s Trail.

The princess is probably missing in those eclipses, I said, trying to push past him.

He blocked my passage. I have orders not to let anyone out. You will have to talk to the LC, he said, trying to push me back.

I guess I could go talk to the queen, I threatened, assuming he would want as little involvement with her as I did.

He became silent, acting just as I had when the queen had confronted me. He stood frozen like stone, looking away from me, hoping if he simply stayed still long enough he might miraculously become invisible. The two of us stood there in a silent stalemate for at least a minute before I realised I wasn’t getting anywhere without an officer’s consent.

I slowly backed away, watching as he let out his breath, thankful he no longer had to deal with my dilemma. Unfortunately, he had called my bluff, as I had never planned to go back to Milena and face her wrath again.

There was only one thing I could do now: ask the imperial guards for their favour. This would mean involving the princess’s older brother. A teen much too eager to become a full-grown man. An inconsistently stern and serious infantry cadet named Prince Arlo.

I began walking towards the courtyard, where I knew he would most likely be. Like predictable pompous drones, I found the prince and his comrades exactly where I thought they’d be. They squandered up in the courtyard, playing day after day, pushing and shoving. The courtyard was uphill on the highest peak and overlooked the beautiful golden reef from the castle’s hazardous cliff face. The prince and his friends treated it like their clubhouse, chasing away any visitors who might want to enter.

They made it a game to repulse away any and every newcomer with their slanderous attitudes and disgusting odours, while they squalled about in the muddy stalls that they referred to as ‘the training pits’. Prince Arlo might have been the lesser of two evils – with his mother being the greater of two evils – but not by much.

Arrows flew against hay targets, followed by boasting laughs, intimidating all the neighbouring townsfolk, whose sole and supreme abilities must entail simply being capable of tolerating these novice brawlers and their vile demeanours on a routine and daily basis. Somehow the smiths and the netters managing to continue with their ordinary lives, unopposed by all the young indiscretions they were being constantly victimised with.

Arlo and his friends were the cool kids you see. Fresh recruits awaiting knighthood. A bunch of pranksters all dreaming about the one righteous quest that might be bestowed upon them to show the elders they were worthy to be accepted into their LC’s – Legion Commander’s – prestigious alpha unit.

They were all apprentice adults who had never seen an inch of real combat, but maintained the sole belief that they were each their own one-man army. And at the very centre of them stood Prince Arlo: a dim-witted thug half covered in armour and the other half of tanned naked muscle. A young man covered in bruises and mud, always shaking his hands fresh so he could wave his short blond hair back and bat those deep green forest eyes to get himself out of trouble – a jokester with an innocent tricksters smile.

The prince was a fit and endurant man with a slick sun-kissed body underneath an unearthly muscular and sturdy shoulder line, with muscles all unevenly distributed across an otherwise thin and toned stature. His scathed and scarred bulky warrior arms looking as if they were the only thing weighing the rest of his light adolescent body down to the earth. Making him the broad backed beast he was most well known for. A brute both fast and strong, with his superior upper torso strength no doubt developed from consistent exposure to lifting and swinging a gigantic two handed heavy claymore sword about two-thirds the size of himself. Carrying a monster of a weapon at the cost of losing all sense of appropriate armour and shielding. He always looked so much bigger from the distance than he was up close. Although I was not the best source of that kind of information, as back then I did everything in my power to actively avoid him.

Mid combat, Arlo’s adversaries dived towards him with sensational but synchronous fleeting strides, each using their abilities as they attacked. One huge monster of a man with a hardened body of spikes and horns aggressively trying to tackle and impale the prince to the corner ropes of this mud pit. His skinny associate manipulating the enclosure they were caged in, turning mud into protruding shards of black ice that spurted from the ground in an upwards avalanche around the evasive prince.

They tried and tried but none of them ever reached within a fist of distance to him. The floor was as slippery as ice, but the prince nimbly skid and slid over it. Nothing could be done to improve their odds against him, as one by one they were alienated into a corner before Arlo struck them down with his ridiculous strength and speed.

The prince possessed reflexes too quick for time and sight. It was as if he was always in the future, impatiently waiting for the rest of the world to slowly catch up.

The very thought of having to talk to him was already making my stomach churn, and I hoped I’d be able to find his legion commander first so I could talk with her instead.

As ruthless as the fighting looked, I couldn’t look away. The fight was only a demonstration for new eager recruits, but something about such senseless violence was strangely entertaining, with the shock factor too appealing to alter my stare. When Arlo struck others’ swords, his blunt training blade fluxed under the pressure of his own heavy but hypnotic sword swings; brute force tactics simply disarming his opponents by powerfully smacking the weapons out of their icy gripped hands.

When fellow trainers saw the current handicap was still not fair enough, more professionals decided to help, joining forces against the prince. One man crept behind Arlo and thrust his wooden lance towards the prince. Arlo spun around and deflected it before kicking the man, sending him swimming through the air, unaffiliated to gravity.

His powers were similar to his mother’s when it came to pushing air through sound. His strength and speed coming from an unseen field of sound waves that he seemed to be able to imbue all around himself – something that makes him capable of flexing gravity and becoming a fighter truly unparalleled in power – strong enough to have made him the future King of The Borderlands, had he not already been in line to receive the title.

I couldn’t help but continue to watch him as I entered the short grassy lawn of that muddy cliff side arena. I watched Arlo lunge backwards, leaping directly towards a wooden sword, knocking down his last opponent by landing feet first on top of him and walking off the man like a plank of timber that he cared nothing about. Never so much as looking at this perpetrator. He just leaped, and that was his style: disarming the other man’s blade with just a flick and twist of his heels while he stood victoriously above a group of winded adversaries.

Curiously, he paused at the strange sight of me. Probably already sensing my upcoming dread. His eyes were uncertain, no doubt assuming the worst about me and realising the dire situation I must be under in order to grovel enough to seek this hellhole out.

Disengaging from his fight, he graciously helped the closest opponent back to his feet and they walked off together to their grand trainer: a woman with a frayed gold crown standing by a marble pillar, with all the aspiring junior recruits beside her. She was the former queen and current legion commander – Lady Camilla.

There was a warmness in her eyes as she gave feedback, coaching the recruits about Arlo’s unique fighting style. The recruits stared, still mesmerised by the fight they had witnessed, believing they too could become as strong as their prince.

Today must’ve been an important induction day for Camilla, as this brown-eyed brunette was wearing her flashy overhead banners: two long giant steel poles wedged into the back of her clothes, protruding out of her backside and up high into the air to show our crown’s gold and red rimmed flags. Many people mocked her for wearing these banners, but I always found them cool to look at. She proudly carried these flags to boost morale and show her presence on the battlefield, should any cavalry need to find her.

Sometimes I used to overhear the guards crack jokes about those banners, saying she only wears them to cover up her lost wings. It was an insulting remark about her fall from grace, as she had once been queen and was now only a high ranking army officer. Of course no one would dare make those quips to her face.

I was almost up to them, unhindered by the crowds now training all around me – some nymphs glaring at me as I pushed between them, forcing them to stop their training.

My back foot snagged on something in the mud and I stumbled to the ground, landing in a pool of mud as a cold wetness splashed across my face.

A girl stood above me, covered in mud herself. Ebony extended her hand to me, her tail discreetly uncoiling from around my leg as she helped me back up. Releasing it with the slightest flicker and splash as it resubmerged underneath the puddle before it climbed back up her side inconspicuously. A failed attempt to conceal it when she was the only possible culprit here that even had a tail.

Ebony began wiping away the mud on me, acting if I was too dumb to know she’d been the one to trip me. I shoved her back, angrily wiping the mud off myself.

You should be familiar with how slippery mud is, Kya, Ebony then proceeded to mock, seeing herself as the hero seeking justice for my intrusion into the recruits’ first lesson. The other recruits around her laughed as she leaned in to whisper. Gotta watch your footing when you’re more uphill than you’re used to being, she then added, the quip referring to my lack of rank.

Ebony flicked the mud from her short tied up ponytail, the dirt’s black colour matching the short black natural fringe of this skimpy dressed warrior as she contested my angry stare without concern or fear of recoil. Patiently just awaiting my next course of action. She was a fit and gorgeous little jungle vixen to all her friends; this description was accentuated by the fact she went out of her way to seem sexy, yet uninterested.

She wiped mud from her arms with both hands. Squiggly tribal tattoos ran down her arms and along the left side of her chest and side, radiating that bad girl vibe that all these rough boys seemed to crave.

She was the narcissistic daughter of Doctor Maxwell and Judge Delphi. Two of the highest authorities within the kingdom, and two of the most gracious and devout of all the nobles present here. And yet in their heated passion they somehow managed to spawn the most spoiled and selfish feline to ever exist.

Despite being born to a house of the highest nobility, Ebony did, fortunately, lack all the typical snobbishness that most upper class dignitaries had. She was happy to be soaked in mud, just like all the other bottom dwellers typically found in the pits – recruits, who spent their nights with bedbugs in hay beds and linen hammocks, dreaming of honour and glory. Meanwhile she slept in pink silk sheets, dreaming of nothing else but having the prince by her bedside.

I was quite impressed with her persistence through all this discord though. In the beginning, I figured she’d only last a month here with all the sweaty nymphs she had to pretend didn’t repulse her just so she could make herself the next future queen. Befriending all these boys and girls was the only way for her to belong with Arlo’s faction. I think some of them must have at least realised her friendship was all a ploy, but were too encapsulated by her beauty to accept it as harsh truth.

Even Arlo, our half-witted prince, must have at least suspected such selfish motivations in Ebony choosing to train with him when she’s already a princess of her own right. Slumming it down here with his infantrymen, convincing them with a pretty face and a pleasing smile that she wants the same thing as the rest of them.

I pushed her from me with a big huff. My hair was covered in foul smelling mud, and some of it had got in my eyes and blurred my vision. I didn’t dare wipe it away though, not wanting to appear weak.

Still fuelled by the desire to please her audience, Ebony said, Guess your mother never taught you to mind your surroundings. She snickered, too obnoxious to even grasp the gravity of what she’d just said to me – an orphan girl.

I looked away, considering what to do, my anxiety in overdrive as my senses blackened into none. My fight or flight instincts failing to reach any conclusion once again, and then I saw my own dim shadow jump across the corner of my sight and make that poor choice for me. Looking backwards towards all those faces, I watched them chuckle briefly only to see their faces dropped with surprise, excitement and shock. My shadow lunged from beside me, hitting Ebony like a tidal wave, knocking her down before hurling her into a puddle across the courtyard, only to rapidly dissipate in the bright sunlight. Surprising all, including myself. A mood and environment changing just as rapidly, once those who were initially mocking me began cheering me on...

Arlo’s gaze shot to Ebony and me, and he smirked as he left Camilla with her newest soldiers, winking at me as he joined the spectators on the sidelines. His stare deterred my focus, allowing Ebony to get back to her feet; she was already three steps shy of me, pacing on all four legs like a wild animal. She was just as fast as the prince was – too fast for an ordinary person to react. Her feet hit my chest, making me feel as if a wagon had smashed into me, and she back flipped of me as I crumpled to the mud.

Ebony’s tail coiled around my leg, yanking me along with her, beating the breath out of me as she dragged me, kicking and screaming, from puddle to puddle, splashing muddy water across the crowd. She tried to pin my arms. Alright, calm down now, she said, smiling before her appeased crowd. It’s over, Kya, she emphasised to me, waiting for me to stop struggling and submit.

I should’ve stopped there, but something inside me had already snapped, with the very mention of my mother setting me most alight. Ebony’s own shadow was now gripping her like a tangling vine, appearing almost like a constricted cape around Ebony as it tried to pull her off me. I kicked free and got to my feet, watching her locked in a wriggling struggle with her own shadow.

She attempted to appear unfazed amidst it all, simply waiting for this next shadow to diminish under the sun, wrestling her own infatuation of still being in control while she was now in the direct presence of her prince. You really think you can play at my level? she then sniped to me, fighting to gain control over her shadow. Your shadow is your only friend, and it happens to be as useless as you, she smugly insulted me as she stopped fighting, no longer attempting to break free. She knew her skills and experience were much deadlier than mine. While I was cleaning tables and dishes, she was up here battling the best this castle had to offer. But at that particular moment, I just couldn’t have cared less. I felt as if I wasn’t even the one in control. My shadow was. And I knew that aspect was scaring her just as much as it was me.

But yours isn’t, I snapped back, enraged as, for the first time, I maintained an unyielding focus. Sucking in what was left of her shadow and funnelling the crowd’s shadows towards me as I enlarged and fortified my arms. The crowd flinching and jumping at the sight of their shadows slithering across the floor towards Ebony and taking hold of her legs.

Shadows moulded across my hands like giant pillow cuffs, increasing the size of my fists as I rampantly threw them into Ebony like a prize fighting boxer.

It was my fault the fight had escalated this far. Just as I knew I was the true bully in front of all these junior soldiers, suddenly finding myself possessed with some absurd lust for blood that needed to hear Ebony cry ‘surrender’.

And so, releasing her out of a squashed confinement, breaking apart as I flung one last shot at her, my shadows took over, pushing her about. They disintegrated in the sun, only for new shadows to take their place. Ebony was left to block and cower as she tried to back away.

The sight, for me, was nothing short of astonishing, as I was the one winning. Only two shadows remained beside her, holding her down as she tried to slither for freedom.

I turned my head away in a smug premature victory, not realising Ebony had freed her legs. She sprung up, kicking at me. I hit the ground hard, feeling the throbbing pulse of instant karma coming back to burn me. I stared in a daze at the recruits tightly circled around Ebony and me. They were shouting out some kind of profanities too hazy to hear, and smiling in amusement at the conclusion of this cat fight.

Their mocking chants blinded me from the true dangers of battle, with the crowds’ cheering war cries suppressing the rational side of my mind. I got back up, but it took me too long to realise something in my opponent had changed. She was not only fighting me, but also another version of herself, struggling to maintain control over her anger as she convulsed on the ground. Roaring and swiping at my incoming shadows as I piled more and more on top of her, trying to keep her locked down.

The crowd stopped shouting, watching in silence as Ebony’s skin shed with the fur of a vicious night-prowler, losing control of herself as her repressed power took over.

I was so startled by what I saw that I took the shadows off her, hoping the small act of compassion might prevent her full fury from attacking me.

NO! Don’t release her! Hold her down! the prince then yelled to me in a panic, pushing through the crowd at the risk of alerting Camilla to this unjustly feud.

Ebony released a final roar as the crowd jolted backwards along with me, some members bravely coming in and attempting to pin her down. Her body becoming black as she burst out from the mess as a completely new four-legged creature. A beast Ebony tried to spend her whole life holding back, right up until I provoked it out of her.

Upon the realisation of my mistake, I was too late to do anything about the beast. I tried to hold her down with my shadows, but she literally clawed through them. Springing out into the crowd before knocking a shadow down and rolling towards me like one powerful bowling ball. Sharp claws extending out from thick nails as she struck at my chest with a flurry of lashing swipes.

A quick improvised shadow shield of cloudy black feathers failing do anything to save me as her primal pounce tore right through it, the intense physical impact of her charge whacking me and her down. Knocking me out of my own head, all but a few sharp distant stinging sensations left binding me to the earth. Feeling a numbness and feverish heat weighing me down as I recall sensing my untimely end.

2

Brawl

Ihad lost my sight near completely. I felt sick from being hurled around like a ragdoll. Ebony relentlessly clung on to me as she jumped and slammed us down and about, digging her claws deep into my sides as she tossed me from puddle to post. Around us the crowd’s cheers of enjoyment had turned to stunned silence.

She’s had enough, I heard one brave person stammer.

It’s ok, you can stop now. You’ve already won, said another scared cadet with a similar frightful panic to his tone.

Voices I couldn’t put an exact face to, due to the murky greyness of my own mud-drenched hair completely blocking my eyes.

There were a few brave souls working together in an attempt to drag Ebony off me. My skin burned as she bit my leg, resisting the others’ tugs to pull her away. She kicked them with her furry-black back legs, pushing them away. Her head appeared above me, her teeth retracting slightly as two giant canine fangs prepared to pierce my neck.

My head was spinning too much to do anything. This was the first time I’d ever come close to knocking on death’s door. And for what? A fight born out of anger? Ebony’s temper had simply bested my own, leaving her with hairy unflattering cheeks across long protruding blood-hungry jaws. Her deadly eyes glowed yellow with rage as she hesitated, doing her best to fight her own fur-covered transformation.

And then her teeth snapped down for my neck. My eyes closed in a cloudy terror, foreseeing the reaper’s deadly scythe readily approaching me…

I waited and waited but no stabbing pain came.

I opened my eyes and saw that the prince and his own senior friends had successfully pulled Ebony away, dragging her by her hind legs. Saliva dripped from her mouth, running along my chest and legs like a leaking water tap, while I laid on the floor, frozen in fear. I lifted my head as much as possible to watch her get dragged away, seeing her kick and claw at the ground, struggling to escape.

She broke free, charging back towards me.

The prince dived on top of her, twisting and spinning her onto the ground, where he pinned her legs as best he could. Ebony, look at me. LOOK AT ME! he yelled, trying to wake her from a primordial world. His intervention only seeming to enrage her further as she slashed him across his shoulder and chest, madly wrestling for her freedom once again.

I couldn’t stop my eyes from blinking shut as I laid there, too dazed to move. I felt like a spinning compass on top of a magnet unable to find its north, merely waiting for her next pending attack. My head fell backwards, collapsing to the blinding light of a heavy sun gleaming directly into my face, as I phased in and out of consciousness, time journeying onwards without me.

I opened my eyes, reminding myself I needed to stay strong and aware if I was to survive. I could see the sun had travelled a small distance across the sky and realised I’d been passed out longer than I’d thought.

I looked across to see Camilla holding down Ebony right beside me, puffing and panting as this girl slowly reverted back to her former civilian self. Everyone stood perfectly still, silently quaking from Camilla as she started to preach to the spectating crowd.

I should have let her end you all! she said to the crowd circled around us, an atmosphere of unanimous regret. Her golden diadem crown bouncing light off the sun and glaring it back into everybody’s eyes as if it too were mad at them and wished them to bow their heads in a shared blinding shame. A battle circlet given to her by her late husband. It was all cracked and dented now, its only purpose these days being to protect her forehead from downward battle thrusts. Is this what we are all here to learn? How to beat down those who have never raised an arm in their life? To attack the civilians you swore to protect? she snapped before combusting into a thin white cloud of smoke and vanishing.

The crowd all smirking and snickering happily, content with the lack of punishment based on her furious departure.

Smiles all fading synchronously and inverting into worried frowns as Camilla pushed aside even her elder recruits to make a path from the downhill marketplace for the doctor to come rushing in upon her hasty orders.

Ebony’s very own father, Doctor Maxwell, puffing as he ran towards me in a mad dash. Only really then had I actually considered how serious my own injuries might have been – especially when I had to see Doctor Maxwell pass right over his own daughter, who was sitting on the ground near me, sobbing. Ignoring her as she and her scathed prince dwelled there together in a collected misery. The look in Ebony’s eyes saying it all: how remorseful she was for losing control once again.

Her compassionate prince knelt down with her, despite all the gashes she’d left across his body – including one small slit right across the left cheek of his face. That man sympathetically rubbing her back and shoulders, trying to calm her tears, while the doctor put his hands on my cheeks to inspect me. His palms glowed as tiny microscopic bugs fluttered out from his skin: flickering little firefly globes that jumped about my body. A flush of heat purging and cleansing every cut and bruise, watching open wounds mend and scars evaporate. Something simply too indescribable to put into words.

After all, Doctor Maxwell was the crown’s leading physician. One of the very few left with a talent for regrowth and cellular propagation, making him one of our most vital medics – not to mention our top plant breeder and farmer. A rather nice and kind type of person who has probably contributed more to our society than, many dare say, Midas and Helios ever had. Although he wasn’t someone who had an interest in politics or governance, as his only goal in life was saving the world one wounded soldier at a time.

This was the first time I’d ever felt those little seeds of life singe my own skin: his living fiery spores of light all bouncing as they searched for damaged flesh to restore and bring me back to perfect health.

The groggy feeling that had hung over me lifting as I began to feel much better than I ever had before. Thank you, I coughed out to him, just clearing my throat as he too took a similar stance to catch his own breath and steady his own delirious wobbles. The doctor smiling at me politely before recomposing himself enough to walk off and have a few silent words with his remorseful daughter.

Camilla took the doctor’s place above me, her tall red flags offering me the tiniest cast of shade as they blocked out the sun. Based on your performance, I’m assuming you didn’t come here for tryouts, she jokingly said as she sat down on the grassy mud beside me. So what brings a lady like yourself to this sad lot? she asked, compassionately placing her hand on my cheek to double check if I was alright. This woman was one of my friend’s mother, and someone who acted as my own mother whenever she knew I was in most need of one.

She raised her voice a little as she went on to say, "I only ask because I assume these recruits were too dumb to consider you might be here for an important and timely reason," she then loudly spoke, only to caringly wipe away the drying smudges of mud, blood and tears still spread across my face.

I came for help, I said vaguely. The senior soldiers appearing most apologetic upon finally hearing this, many of them still recovering from their own harsh bumps from Camilla when she’d quickly cleared them away from me.

And this is how they treated you? Camilla said, unimpressed. Probably why we still call them recruits, aye? she added, softly insulting them before getting to the more important details. So how can I personally help you, dear? she asked me, helping me back to my feet.

The princess has run away again. I think she’s gone to the Ambarvale Farms to nurse the injured, I said, my grave news igniting excited whispers in the crowd. After all, these prepubescent soldiers had all been wishing for an opportunity like this. An opportunity to prove themselves as worthy candidates for Camilla’s prestigious ‘Vanguard’ regiment.

But Camilla stood there quietly puzzled, seeming burdened as she alone had to make the choice over what to do.

My lady, I will go, said someone from the crowd.

Me too, said another.

Soon everyone was volunteering for this golden opportunity.

How can any of you? Camilla snapped. You lot can’t even tell the difference between an enemy and an ally... I’m sorry, recruits, but this task will be left to those with a little more experience, she announced, her words quickly crushing their foolish fantasies.

The crowd began advancing around us, protesting Camilla’s words…

But, madam, she’s not even in heavy danger! someone foolishly yelled from the back.

The Vanguard is supposed to remain here! shouted another.

Please, we can do this, miss, pleaded another.

There won’t even be any danger, said others as their pouting naively continued.

THAT’S ENOUGH, RECRUITS! Camilla shouted, scaring everyone else but me back a few short cautious steps. THIS TASK IS NOT FOR THE UNTRAINED!" she then preceded to loudly explain, ending these novices’ childish insolence.

No one dared question their mighty Legioness any further from then on. All but one stubborn man that is. Prince Arlo stepping out from the edge of that ring. Madam, I will go, said the prince, more of a statement then it was a request as he publicly endorsed his own participation and candidacy amidst the ever eager crowd.

Arlo, you know I can’t– Camilla began to protest.

…She’s my sister, Arlo then chose to rudely cut her off – the only person who would dare do so. I’m the only one who knows her well enough to find her, and you know that, he added, coming over to speak to her directly.

You haven’t known her for a long time, I spat back under my breath, just loud enough for all of his crowd to hear.

Speak up! Arlo retaliated blankly towards me, his eyes locking on me as I stood slowly pushed out before the front of the crowd. We’re not here to make cakes Kya. If you know something, just say it already. None of us here care about formalities, he said towards me.

My prince, if your sister heard you calling for her then she would keep running, I responded with sheer determination and little restraint. I looked to Camilla while she patrolled passed us both in deep consideration of what Arlo and I had to say. I’m sorry, my lord, but that’s the truth, I quickly added, remembering my place and exactly who I was speaking to.

The prince’s confident gaze beamed into mine, just as his mother’s had forty minutes ago. So says the friend who lost her, he suavely and confidently then retorted, swaying the sceptical and snickering crowd as he walked up beside me. The very same friend who’s now here begging for our help, he added loudly from beside me, attempting to belittle my argument and convince Camilla and the rest of his peers he was still the best man for the job. Madam, you can send your finest soldiers out to look for her, but they won’t find her if she doesn’t want to be found, he continued, confidently walking around the circle. Giving Camilla some space and distance to assess the issue and deeply weigh out our two rivalling arguments.

Unfortunately, I think you’re right, Camilla said towards him after a moment of consideration. Both of you are, she then pursued to say. I’m sorry, Kya. I hate to have to do this to you, but it is going to take at least both of you to find her.

Do I get a choice in the matter? I asked rather rhetorically, rolling my eyes as I knew full well the troubled position Camilla and I were in and what had to be done about it.

Only if the answer is yes, she replied, trying to make light of this heavy burden. Irony to the fact that she was gladly willing to risk her own neck just to spare me from being punished by the Queen. Ambervale is a fair distance away, and the princess could be virtually anywhere in between, Camilla then said to the prince and me. I will give you as much of my unit as I can currently spare, as well as the fastest and strongest steeds in the stables. She cautiously decided, doing her best to comfort me, before giving me a moment to let the gravity of the situation slowly settle in.

However, she continued, pausing a second time for the prince, wishing to amplify the seriousness of what she said next, Arlo, I’ll only warrant this task under one strict condition... that no matter what happens, both of you stay to the roads and return back here at first sign of danger – regardless of how trivial it might appear. Am I crystal clear about that? She focused her words almost solely on the prince, who was well known for his impulsive tendency towards recklessness. You will not stop or go off road until you meet me at the Ambervale Marketplace later for safe extraction. And that is either with or without her, she then issued to us. Arlo and I locking eyes with each other before looking back to her and agreeing with a small synchronous nod.

Everything seemed set in place until Ebony leapt forward to offer her services. Let me go too, my lady. Please, the more the better, and my foolishness has already delayed this mission long enough, something I can only hold myself personally accountable for, she then pleaded before her commander, a certain sincerity and insecurity to her tone. The fear of Arlo leaving without her more terrifying than any physical danger she might find herself in outside the safety of this high walled castle.

Out of the question. Camilla reluctantly shrugged, trying to walk past her.

Cammy, please, Ebony pleaded again, blocking any further movement forward – her grovelling rather amusing to me – step by step impeding Camilla’s passage away from her. Ebony looking to her father for help, his gaze toward Camilla offering his own approval. An obvious need for Ebony to redeem herself suddenly forcing Camilla to reconsider.

Fine! Camilla huffed, nodding in an exhausted approval. But only because if I don’t, you’re just going to sneak off to join them anyway, she stated defeatedly.

Ebony hugging her in an impatient excitement. Thank you! Thank you! she said before prancing towards the prince and me.

You know, I had enough to deal with today before all of this, Camilla somberly advertised, sighing defeated but sarcastically towards us before waving over two prestigious warriors present for her induction to be our elite escorts.

Arlo and Ebony sharing their own cheeky smile as they happily prepared to welcome over the elite fighters they were hoping to one day sit alongside.

Now, if you will all excuse me, my son is demonstrating one of his new designs and I don’t want to miss it, she concluded before walking downhill towards the sandy courtrooms of the central marketplace.

As with that excitement all ending, the rest of the soldiers were left with little recoil but to fall back in line and simply return to their senior coaches and various muddy training stalls. Leaving Arlo, Ebony and me behind with those two veteran soldiers to help escort us into the lowest depths of the castle’s underground bunkers and lead us through the very enclosed tunnel gates that I’d tried to gain passage through earlier.

3

Spoils

The five of us followed the underground webbed tunnels beneath the castle as far across as they could offer, breaking away from the training pits and its magnificent high rise cliff face. We passed into narrow dirt tunnels with dim-lighted torches as we began burying ourselves much deeper inland than I usually travelled.

Having undertaken an extensively longer detour than the conventional way straight out of the castle, we were within a maze of sorts: a labyrinth of confusing tunnels to anyone who wasn’t accustomed to the city’s vast sewer underbelly.

We eventually reached the labyrinth’s end, where four royal guards stood in front of a giant thick gold door. The guards opened the door, which smoothly wheeled itself along a track and into a thin shallow slit hidden inconspicuously within the left side of this tunnel’s cave wall.

The five of us shuffled inside. I had to admit the whole experience was quite phenomenal and I felt greatly privileged as I was escorted through these dimly-lit forbidden shafts by my prince and many other knightly noblemen. All of us together entering the most highly restricted space we had in our capital – the storage place of the city’s loot and treasure, among other things.

The guards were going out of their way to offer us aid, inviting us newbie first timers in like waiters serving hungry beggars at an ‘all you can eat’ buffet. They kept us strictly to the vault’s main paved path while our two unarmed escorts left us to enter their own private reserved chambers where they swapped out fresh and clean civilian clothes for battle-hardened armour and items.

Again and again my eyes widened, impressed by the ancient marvels of every single chamber room of that damp dim crypt-like corridor. A lot of the rooms being nothing but old burial chambers reserved for the best soldiers of the kingdom. Statues stood above each tomb to honour those great nymphs and the sacrifice they made in order to defend this magnificent stronghold, helping to make it the impervious place we all take for granted today.

This place was called The Royal Catacombs for good reason. To me this level felt more like an ancient battle arena than it was a resting place for honoured veteran soldiers and all their prized possessions. Just a spacious and glorified place meant for mourning, dignity and respect of our most wealthy and strong. Each room was uniquely decorated, depicting what kind of tribe and homeland these warriors originated from. Gladiators you could almost envy considering the lush lives they must have lived and left behind, based on the precious relics filling their chambers.

The treasures inside ranged from tiny trinkets and rings, to bark shields and gold crossbows linked to steel tethers. Each chamber had an unusual tool placed inside, such as chains linked to bronze daggers, urns filled with unknown powders and dusts, tridents, and weapons so heavy looking I doubted any nymph of today’s world could lift it. They were weird and exotic items built for a much more archaic era.

I had been told many stories about the ‘real’ reason we buried our dead down here. Why their bodies are so perfectly wrapped and preserved in silk threads, only to be lowered and sealed in airtight stone coffins. Buried and surrounded with all possessions once cherished merely as an insurance policy for us still living. Preserving animal feed and other non-perishable treasures for lurking spiders gone native, should a famine ever return to this world again.

And although those were just silly rumours designed to thrill us off-duty servants around Saturday night bonfires. On actual inspection, this place was indeed a grave robber’s dream, with every grail and chalice in those rooms being worth more than a lifetime of my own personal labours. All ornaments merely stockpiled and ready for resale should current members of the community be more in need of them. A true shame all this free loot to take could only slow me down when out in the unforgiving wilderness soon to be running for my life.

So being new to the armoury and its many treasure vaults, I had been guided away from Arlo, Ebony and our other two guards, left out in the final entrance corridors and forced to sit on a short stone table while the rest of the guards went to find saddles and gear for me.

Nervous but excited, I Jumped off the table the second the guards were gone and took my once in a lifetime chance to go and look out over the chasm’s lean ledge, peering down into the vast chasms below this royal top tier, admiring a sight I knew I would never get to see again. Even if I were greatly