Celaros Chronicles: The Last Keenai of Eravon

By August Rose

After witnessing the betrayal and murder of his parents, a young prince finds himself on the run for his life. Barely escaping with the help of his uncle and the appearance of a being long thought to be myth, the boy embarks on a journey to reclaim his crown. With the help of allies found all across Eravon, from old friends in the coastal town of Xuhl Port to new and unexpected friends deep within the mysterious forest, the young prince faces dangers beyond his wildest dreams. From fierce battles to ancient gods, encounters with legendary creatures and a majestic dragon, the prince learns what it means to be a king and a man. But will he gain the strength and courage he needs to reclaim his kingdom?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 12, 2021
• ISBN: 9781636928760

Book preview

Chapter 1

The night was dark, only a faint sliver of moon shined in the sky. On a night like this, the forests of Eravon are usually quiet, the only sounds coming from the nocturnal creatures that inhabit it. Creatures such as the Mune, the night fairies that brought dreams to those who slept, or the Yuudai, mischievous fox-like creatures that played tricks on unsuspecting passersby.

Tonight, however, was different. The echo of running feet disturbed the normally peaceful forest.

Humans were the source of the sound. An older man and his nephew raced through the unfamiliar terrain of the forest.

They were Valarians. One of the human races, best known for their copper skin tone and varied shades of red hair. The younger of the two was a boy in his late teens named Daniel. His shoulder-length burgundy hair was a mess of tangles, matted to his face from blood and sweat. He had a lean yet toned body, with strong handsome features, highlighted by kind violet eyes. Features marred only by the bloodied bandage covering the left side of his face. The older man with Daniel was his uncle, Alaric. He had the same burgundy hair, cut short and combed back, peppered with gray streaks. His body was disciplined and toned from years of adventuring. Alaric who had once been handsome in his youth now bore the lines of time; his violet eyes, however, were bright and alert. Not the type of eyes one would expect to see from a man of his age.

Both wore the fine clothes of nobility, silken pants and undershirts with embroidered satin tunics, now torn and dirty from the unplanned journey through the forest. These were clothes unsuited for travel in such unwelcome conditions.

The cold air bit at the skin of Daniel and Alaric as they ran. Lungs burning and legs aching, branches clawed at their faces and clung to their clothes as they blindly forced their way into the heavy undergrowth.

The forest was old and thick, allowing only the faintest beams of moonlight to shine through the canopy on a good night, but tonight, with a waning moon, the forest became a maze of frightening shadows and silhouettes.

Then Daniel’s balance is suddenly ripped from him as his foot catches a root, and he tumbled forward in the darkness, colliding with the ground fast and hard. A cry of pain escaped him.

Exhausted and aching, Daniel might have stayed there all night, but the sharp throbbing pain from the wound on his face and echoing voices of their pursuers behind them provided an unwelcome reminder that he didn’t have that luxury. He needed to get up.

Hurry! Alaric hissed urgently to his nephew as he grabbed Daniel’s arm, pulling him to his feet.

The forest was completely disorienting. One could easily get lost during the day on a simple leisurely walk, never mind trying to navigate in the dark while running in a panicked frenzy. Still they pressed on further, stumbling over roots that jutted out of uneven ground and bouncing off the solid trunks of trees that seemed to spring out of nowhere. They had no idea where they were going, only the urge to flee guiding them, their feet moving ever onward.

The voices gradually faded, barely audible in the distance, and the pair dared a moment to catch their breaths. There were cuts on their faces and hands from the branches and shrubbery. Daniel held a hand to the bandage clumsily wrapped around the left side of his face. It was slick with blood and sweat, the memory of the blade ripping through his flesh flashed in his mind, causing him to wince. The brief reprieve from running allowed his thoughts to dwell on how things had been a couple hours ago and of how events had quickly spiraled into this nightmare.

That night had started out like any other. Daniel and his parents had spent the evening celebrating Alaric’s return from his most recent voyage to Amai, the desert kingdom across the sea. Daniel never knew the reason behind his uncle’s frequent trips to Amai, but it had become a tradition to welcome him back. Usually a private affair among close friends and family, with a delicious feast, lively music, and a room filled with laughter and his uncle’s wild stories.

It was always Daniel’s favorite part of Alaric’s homecomings, that and the exotic gifts he would bring.

He remembered going to his parents’ chambers that night hoping for a better look at one such gift his uncle had given his father, an Amaian dagger with a short curved blade and a beautiful hilt embedded with gems. The same blade that would later be stained with their blood.

He entered the room, forgetting to knock in his excitement. A formality he wasn’t officially expected to follow but one he usually did for his parents’ privacy. As he entered, instead of seeing his mother by the fireplace, embroidering some intricate design on a dress, or his father looking over paperwork at his desk like always; Daniel was greeted with a sight that would haunt him the rest of his life.

His father, a man well known in the kingdom for his martial art skills, lay motionless on the ground, surrounded by a pool of blood. His mother was on her knees next to him, clasping at the wound in her chest.

Father! Mother! Daniel cried, instinctively running toward them. As Daniel reached her side, his mother collapsed in his arms, and he frantically tried to stop the bleeding, paying no attention to the third person in the room. She reached a weary hand to his face, getting his attention and forcing him to look at her face. She said something, but it was so faint he couldn’t make it out. Then a movement from his peripheral vision. As he looked up to see what it was, his mother spoke again, and this time, he heard her clearly.

Run!

It was too late. At the same moment that Daniel’s mother urged him to run, he saw the blade, already rushing toward his head, and the man who wielded it. Samuel of House Crowlin, Right Hand to the king, one of his father’s most trusted advisers.

In the shock of this realization, his mind seemed to freeze, not even thinking to avoid the oncoming attack. It would have surely been a fatal blow, if it wasn’t for his mother. With her last bit of strength, she had pulled him out of the way. The blade, however, still made contact and sliced open the left side of his face, from just above the eyebrow all the way down his cheek. Daniel let out a scream of pain as he clutched his face.

You should not have come here, boy, Samuel said coldly, moving closer. He was stopped by a jerk to his robes. Daniel’s mother was clasping at them with the desperation of a mother trying to save her child’s life.

R-run… she pleaded again to her son. Please, Daniel, run!

It would be the last words she’d say to Daniel before Samuel heartlessly brought the blade to her neck, slitting her throat swiftly.

Blood flowed freely from the wound, her vibrant eyes quickly going dim as her body sank to the floor. Daniel let out an agonized scream as she landed, lifeless, in front of him.

He felt a surge of conflicting emotions: the overwhelming desire to tear Samuel apart and the need to rush to his mother’s side in futile hope that he might be able to save her. He was on his feet, dashing forward, not sure which emotion drove him or which one he would act on and not caring. However, he was stopped abruptly, strong arms wrapping around him to hold him back, an armored body moving between him and Samuel.

It was Sir Barrett of House Tymber, lord commander of the realm, and his Uncle Alaric. Both had been having a drink in Alaric’s chambers, a few doors down, when they heard Daniel’s scream and had instinctively come running to his aid. They had been shocked by the scene before them when they entered the room but had the presence of mind to act quickly. Alaric restrained his nephew from foolheartedly rushing Samuel, while Sir Barrett moved to defend them.

Traitor! Sir Barrett bellowed.

You’ll hang for this! Alaric seethed as he wrapped a torn cloth from his tunic hastily around Daniel’s wound.

Samuel just gave a smug smirk in response.

I doubt that. In fact, I believe you’ll be the ones hanging for this, he said, dropping the dagger to the ground with little interest. Isn’t that right, Sir Rupert?

The three turned their attention to where Samuel was looking, to see Sir Rupert of House Moore, a knight who served under Samuel’s command. He was leaning casually against the ajar door with an icy grin on his face.

Why, yes, my lord. Such a tragedy that you couldn’t stop Lord Alaric and Sir Barrett from slaughtering the king and queen, he said with mock grief.

And to learn that the beloved prince was a part of the attempted coup! What a horrifying thing to happen, indeed. They should be executed immediately, and I can assure you the loyal soldiers of the realm are ready to follow through in avenging their beloved monarchs, he said, drawing his blade as he stepped closer.

Sir Barrett never gave him the chance to use it. Using his hulking physique, he charged forward, startling Rupert and slamming the unprepared knight into the wall.

Alaric wasted no time as he pulled Daniel along after him out of the room, Sir Barrett close behind. They raced through the corridors, and it wasn’t long before they found out exactly what Sir Rupert had meant with his words. Soldiers began to attack them on sight, yelling, Traitors! and They killed the king and queen!

For them to have learned of the murders this quickly, it was clear that most—if not all of them—had to be working with Samuel and Rupert.

Still they professed their innocence to those they came across. Sir Barrett engaged the ones that didn’t listen in combat, but even as they attacked, the soldiers were hesitant.

Unwilling to fight the lord commander, who had trained most—if not all of them—personally for years. Traitor or not, his skills were beyond theirs, and they knew it. They attempted to compensate this handicap with numbers.

Some good fortune graced the trio. It would seem not all the soldiers were working for Samuel. There were some who, upon seeing their wounded prince and hearing that Samuel was the true traitor, turned their blades against their comrades and began aiding them.

Unfortunately, there were more who sided with Samuel than with them; it was sickeningly obvious now that this whole thing had been planned beforehand, and Samuel had intended on Alaric and Sir Barrett taking the fall.

Daniel was just another victim. An unfortunate case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It was clear, however, that they would find no sanctuary in the castle and had to flee. Their small group had managed to make it through the courtyard and into the gardens, mostly intact, when they became surrounded. The soldiers pursuing them, feeling sure of their inevitable victory, closed in slowly.

Damn it! Alaric cursed, pushing a shaken Daniel behind him. He began to summon an energy sword in his hand, but Sir Barrett caught his arm.

No, the grizzled commander said with a firm shake of his head. He then motioned to the forest in the distance. You need to get the prince to safety, my lord.

The forest? Are you mad! He’d be safer fighting this lot! Alaric argued. No, we’ll stay and fend them off with you.

With all due respect, my lord, His Grace is in no condition to fight, nor can we protect him and fight! Sir Barrett said with an even tone that was clearly forced. The forest may be risky, but it’s your safest bet, we don’t know who we can trust right now. All we can do is get the prince safely away from the palace.

Alaric grimaced but nodded his head reluctantly.

We’ll give you an opening, then run as fast as you can and don’t look back, Sir Barrett said, hefting his great sword up.

He looked back once over his shoulder. Goodbye, old friend, he said somberly, then, without waiting for a response, charged at the approaching soldiers, cutting two down before they had a chance to raise their weapons. The rest of his men charged forward after him, and while they were busy in the heat of the fight, Alaric took Daniel by the wrist and sprinted for the forest.

True to his word, Sir Barrett gave them the opening they needed, taking on three men at once so they could get past. That was the last Daniel would see of the lord commander before barreling headfirst into the foreign territory of Eravon’s forests.

That was how they ended up where they were now, aimlessly lost with no idea who they could trust, and no plans for the future, except to survive. Tears began to cloud his vision, he wanted to break down right then and there.

Alaric’s hand on Daniel’s shoulder brought him back from his thoughts, making him focus on their current predicament. He remembered his mother’s last words to him, telling him to run. Then he remembered how she had died trying to save him. All those soldiers who had helped them and died doing so. Sir Barrett had likely died helping them escape as well. If he broke down now and gave in, then their sacrifice would have been in vain, they would have died for nothing. He blinked away the tears and choked back those overwhelming feelings as he forced his sore legs to stand.

That’s when he saw Alaric’s attention focused on something up ahead. Daniel squinted, peering in the darkness. Then he saw it, dim and in the distance, but definitely there.

A fire? Daniel managed.

Perhaps, Alaric answered, wariness clear in his tone.

At first, they thought that it might be from a torch, maybe one of their pursuers, but after watching it for a time, they saw that it was stationary, most likely from a camp. Though what kind of human would camp in these woods, they couldn’t guess.

He turned to his uncle and could see the vague expression of apprehension in his features, but Alaric knew as well as Daniel that they were out of options. The chance that the fire could belong to their enemy was overshadowed by the hope that it could be their only chance for the help they desperately needed.

They raced toward the light.

Bursting through the dense bushes, into the small clearing not long after, they were promptly shocked at what they saw. First, that the source of the light wasn’t a fire but a glowing stone the size of a melon. Second was the person kneeling next to the glowing stone. He was easily taller than anyone the pair had ever seen, even in his crouched position.

The light of the stone reflected off his pale skin. His raven hair, dotted with white objects that couldn’t be made out in the lighting, was tied back into a half-ponytail with a few small randomly placed braids acting as decoration. He was dressed in cloth pants and a leather tunic, with a cloak of leather and fur.

He had leather bracers on his wrists and some sort of furred scarf draped around his shoulders, coming to a rest in the hood of his cloak; his feet were bare apart from a beaded anklet. In his hand was a longbow, longer than any a human would wield. His eyes, wide in surprise, were different colors, the left golden and the right blue.

Something long and pale slid behind him, catching their eyes. Was that a tail? Humans didn’t have tails.

Impossible, Daniel thought, a product of blood loss or exhaustion, making him see things.

Then Alaric whispered under his breath, Keenai…

Daniel’s eyes flitted to his uncle before falling back onto the stranger by the stone. His face no longer held a stunned expression but instead a steady gaze of suspicion, eyes shadowed by wariness that seemed to bore right through them.

With what Daniel had heard about the Keenai people, he wondered if they should seek help from him or if he would be another enemy they would have to flee. He doubted they would be able to if that became the case.

That’s when an arrow whizzed past his ear, and their attention snapped back to the forest behind them.

Damn! They must have followed the light too! Alaric said, turning around, and quickly pulled Daniel behind him. He used magic to summon a short sword made of energy to his hand.

Daniel hazarded a glance back to where the Keenai was as they backed further into the clearing, but he was gone. Nowhere to be seen and no sign of where he went.

More arrows flew toward them, but the lighting was sparse and thus made their aim poor. Alaric easily swatted them away with his sword. Quickly five armored soldiers rushed into the clearing, brandishing weapons as they neared.

You can’t escape! yelled one of the men as he dropped a crossbow and drew his sword, leveling it at them.

Traitors! cried another as they circled the two slowly.

They were outnumbered five to two; the soldiers were fully armored. They had only the clothes on their backs, and Daniel was severely injured. If Alaric couldn’t talk sense into them, the odds of winning this fight was grim.

Are you so easily deceived? Do you honestly believe Samuel over your own prince? Alaric tried to reason, holding his sword steady.

You can’t talk your way out of this! Kill them! the soldier at the forefront shouted, and together they surged forward.

Run! Alaric yelled at Daniel as he moved to intercept them.

Daniel scrambled to the tree line as his uncle attempted to hold off the men on his own. Thanks to years of experience, Alaric was able to stand his ground, and while he was able to keep from being overwhelmed himself, he couldn’t stop two from pushing past him and pursuing his nephew.

Daniel felt none of the pain and fatigue that had plagued him earlier. Adrenaline pumped through his chest, allowing him to run long past his body’s limits. He was nearing the tree line—if he could get among the trees, he could lose them in the endless sea of branches and shadows.

He was nearly there, just a little further. Just a few more steps. Then as he finally reached them, he felt hands grab hold of his collar, jerking him back. He twisted against their grip and fought frantically, like a wild animal caught in a trap. He somehow wriggled himself free, falling hard to the ground.

He just managed to right himself when he saw the two soldiers standing ominously over him, the blades in their hands making their intent clear.

He glanced back at the clearing, desperately hoping to see his uncle rushing to his rescue, but he was barely holding his own against the three men attacking him. His eyes went back to the two soldiers, their eyes held no sympathy as they readied their blades.

This is it. This is where I die, he thought morbidly, clenching his eyes shut in resigned anticipation. He waited to feel the sharp pain from their steel, and then, nothing. Their blades never came. Instead he heard a garbled sound of surprise, followed by an angry shout.

Daniel opened his eyes and was shocked to see one of the soldiers on the ground in front of him, the obvious cause of his death being the arrow—longer than any Daniel had ever seen—running through his neck. It had struck with enough force to go nearly clean through its target. Blood gushed around the shaft of the arrow and stained the ground around him.

The other soldier shouted into the foliage of the forest where the shot had come from, demanding the assailant to show themselves. He was still shouting when a figure came from behind the tree next to him, moving with lightning-fast reflexes to plunge a large dagger into his chest plate. The stunned soldier clumsily tried to swing his sword at the mysterious attacker but was easily dodged. The man then grabbed the soldier’s head and, with that same amazing speed and strength, bashed the soldier’s head into the trunk of a nearby tree. With a sickening crunch, the soldier crumpled to the ground. Blood and gore seeped down the trunk of the tree, in a macabre trail to the lifeless body at its base.

Perhaps the most shocking thing to Daniel was who had killed them; there in the sparse illumination of the glowing stone was the Keenai.

He stood over the two bodies. In his hand, the blood-soaked dagger, a twenty-six-inch blade made of bone with a handle wrapped in leather and a ring-shaped pommel. The other hand, also covered in blood, hung by his side. He briefly regarded Daniel before turning toward the clearing.

Then what Daniel had assumed to be a fur scarf earlier turned out to be an animal. It leapt from the Keenai’s shoulders to land in front of Daniel. It was the color of wheat, with a long slender body that led to nimble legs and a fluffy tail the same length of its body. It had pointed ears like a cat, comically large on the small head of the creature. The animal curled around Daniel’s leg with a purr as the Keenai stepped in front of him.

Alaric had successfully dispatched one of the three men attacking him, his experience and agility keeping him alive so far. His age and the fact that he’d been running a good portion of the night was beginning to catch up with him, however. His movements were slowing, and it was becoming harder to counterattack. He couldn’t keep this up much longer.

In spite of his predicament, his thoughts were more focused on Daniel. He feared that his nephew, who had little to no fighting experience and was currently injured, would stand no chance against the trained soldiers that pursued him.

His fears, however, would not be realized that night.

The remaining soldiers halted their attacks when the sudden shouting from one of the two men chasing Daniel drew their attention.

Alaric should have used the distraction to attack them. Perhaps it was the nature of the shouting, or the fact that it was coming from the soldier and not Daniel, but his curiosity got the better of him, and he too found himself turning to see what had happened.

For a moment, no one moved, stunned by what they saw—one soldier obviously felled by an arrow and the other one crumpled at the base of a tree, both clearly dead and both taken out in less than a minute. Perhaps the most shocking aspect of the scene was the one who had done it, a being they had all thought of as mere myth—a Keenai.

His tail flicked from side to side as he turned toward the clearing, those mismatched eyes fixing on the two soldiers next to Alaric. He didn’t draw the longbow slung over his shoulders but instead drew a second dagger, identical to the first, from somewhere beneath his cloak. Alaric barely registered the animal that jumped from the Keenai’s shoulders as he moved, placing himself in front of Daniel. Sending a very clear message that the soldiers would have to go through him to get to their target.

With that action, the shock faded from the men, and they roared with anger, abandoning their fight with Alaric to charge at the new foe before them. The one who’d killed their comrades.

The Keenai moved with speed and agility that neither soldier could even hope to match. He met them halfway, his dagger cutting through the armor of the first man, as if he was slicing through warm butter. He then quickly sidestepped the other, swiping at his legs, the blade slicing the calf as he was knocked to the ground. The soldier let out a brief cry of pain but refused to give up. He struggled to his feet, his leg bleeding heavily as he stubbornly moved to engage the Keenai once more. Only to be met with Alaric’s blade, who strategically made use of his preoccupation with the Keenai to attack unseen, ultimately finishing him off.

A moment of silence claimed the clearing as the final body hit the ground. They had done it. They had managed to survive a situation where the odds were stacked against them. Of course, that was due largely in part to the Keenai, but they had survived nonetheless.

Alaric promptly moved to Daniel’s side, startling the animal who rushed toward the Keenai. Alaric helped Daniel to his feet and checked for additional injuries. The Keenai was still for a moment as the furry animal swiftly climbed his clothes and curled around his shoulders once more; he then headed toward the glowing stone.

Alaric watched him warily. He had helped them, but Alaric wasn’t altogether convinced that he was a friend. He could just as easily choose to turn his blades against them. They were, after all, technically trespassing in the forest.

The Keenai seemed completely uninterested in the two of them as he wiped the blood from his daggers and hands on a rag. Alaric watched as he placed the daggers somewhere beneath his cloak before pocketing the rag and decided that he, at least, wasn’t a threat to them. As a show of goodwill, he approached the Keenai and offered him his hand.

Thank you for your help, stranger. Alaric said.

The Keenai looked quizzically at his hand, as if confused by the gesture. Alaric scratched his chin when he realized the Keenai’s confusion. It’s um, well, it’s a greeting, he explained. He hoped the Keenai could understand him, but there was the very real and distinct possibility that he wouldn’t know their language.

The Keenai made a small noise of acknowledgment then brought his hands before him, level with his chest, placing the clenched fist of his left hand against the open palm of his right.

"Nin’Kaa," the Keenai said softly, with the lilt of an unfamiliar accent, and, without another word, bent to pick up the stone, the glow immediately dying with his touch. Alaric and Daniel exchanged glances.

I suppose that’s their greeting then? Daniel said with a shrug.

In the dim lighting of the moon, Daniel looked at the bodies of the five soldiers sent to kill him with a sad heart. It was clear that of the soldiers at the castle, half seemed to be working for Samuel. Trusted men who betrayed the kingdom for reasons unknown, or perhaps they simply believed the lie that Daniel and Alaric had killed his parents. Perhaps the worst part of it all was that it was impossible to tell the two apart, so they had no choice but to kill good loyal men of the kingdom right alongside the traitors.

He shook his head lightly and forced himself not to dwell on his negative thoughts.

We have a little time to think of our next step, but we must hurry. Knowing Samuel, more will come, Alaric insisted, surveying the area.

Daniel’s head throbbed and pain lanced though his exhausted limbs. He took a deep breath, trying to think of what they could do and where they could go.

His thoughts were cut short by that odd accented voice. I know a safe place for you to hide tonight.

They turned to face the Keenai, who stood still and stoic, as if he hadn’t said a word. Daniel had begun to wonder if they had imagined it when the Keenai spoke again.

It is close, and no one else knows of it, he said. No human, at least.

Daniel looked to Alaric, and they seem to come to a silent agreement. They may not know much about this man, this Keenai, but he saved their lives and was offering to help them now, when they needed it most. They had to trust him. They both nodded and turned to the Keenai.

Lead the way, Alaric said, and one by one, they filed into the thick of the forest once more, following the Keenai to whatever destination he was leading them to.

The night seemed to move at a slower pace now that they weren’t running for their lives. Daniel looked at his feet as they walked, his eyes and mind not really focusing on anything except moving forward.

He was aware of Alaric’s arm at his side, supporting him, and he tried to remember how long it’s been there. Their guide was silent, having not spoken since offering to take them to safety. The animal riding in the hood of his cloak occasionally poked its head out to observe them before ducking back into the folds of cloth. The gentle sway of the Keenai’s tail, as it swayed behind him, provided an oddly hypnotizing distraction from the various aches and pains Daniel was feeling.

Daniel began to wonder where it was that they were going. They’ve no way of knowing where the Keenai was taking them. Neither Alaric nor Daniel knew how to navigate through the forest, though they doubted any human did.

Then it hit them—the crisp scent of salt on the wind, and the faint yet distinct sounds of the surf as it collided with the shore. Both giving away their destination before their feet ever reached the sand.

The ocean? Alaric asked, looking at the darkened scenery of the beach as they exited the forest. No offense, but where are we supposed to hide on a beach? He turned to the Keenai.

The man looked at them languidly before removing his bow, his furry companion jumping to the ground with the movement. The creature jumped around in the surf as he took his cloak off, setting it on the sand before him. He was beginning to remove his belt when he finally spoke, You will need to strip.

Daniel saw an indignant expression cross Alaric’s face, his ears turning red as he seemed to realize what the statement implied. Daniel caught on slower, not realizing for himself that the Keenai intended for them to go into the water, until Alaric had looked pointedly at the water and then at Daniel.

Daniel turned his eyes back to the Keenai, who had promptly removed all but his undergarments, which differed greatly from the kind worn by Valarians. They wore a short type of trousers made from a thin breathable cloth that came down no further than halfway down the thigh, and was worn beneath their pants. The Keenai, on the other hand, wore a braided strip of cloth wound around his hips, almost like a belt, with more lengths of cloth at each end of the braid, which was twisted, then wrapped around the base of the tail and then twisted again, brought between the legs and brought up under the braid at the waist and over to hang loosely in front.

The Keenai was currently crouched on the sand, bundling his clothes in his cloak.

You can’t be serious? Alaric questioned.

The man paused his work and looked up at them. Skin dries faster than cloth, he said flatly.

Alaric shook his head slightly and said, I didn’t mean that. I meant having us swim out into the sea. He looked at Daniel before continuing. My nephew is in no condition for such a thing, let alone the fact that doing so on a night like this is reckless and dangerous. Where would we even be going? There aren’t any islands near this coast. Even if there were, we could never manage to swim there.

The Keenai frowned, glancing briefly at the ocean over his shoulder before returning his attention to them again, saying, "I never said we would be swimming."

The way he had said the word swimming sounded almost as if the mere idea was insane. The man then stood and pointed along the rocky shoreline not much farther along the beach.

Beneath the cliffs are some caves. We can reach them by wading through the surf along the cliff face, but the water will go about…this high on you both, he said, his fingers fluttering just above his hips, which would be about level with their chests. He then pointed down to his cloak and belongings which were half-rolled up.

In order to keep our clothes and equipment dry, we need to bundle it up and carry it over our heads until we get to the caves.

He looked pointedly at Daniel and let out a small huff of air. He will certainly need your help. The rocks can be tricky to maneuver. I can carry the bundles, but we must move quickly. I cannot be certain how long it will take your pursuers to catch up with us, and we must be in the caves before they do.

Daniel was tempted to argue that he didn’t need the help, but he knew better. He was already feeling feverish, and it was taking more energy than his pride would let him admit just to stand. He touched his uncle’s arm.

We need to do as he says, Daniel said before beginning to remove his garments as well. Alaric sighed heavily before following suit.

The water was colder than either of them had anticipated, and Daniel shivered despite himself. Alaric tightened his grip on Daniel’s side as they moved further along the cliff wall, the Keenai only a few feet ahead of them.

He held the three bundles tied together over one shoulder while steadying himself against the rocky cliffs with the other, his furry companion clinging to his shoulders. He occasionally stopped to look back at Daniel and Alaric before continuing.

His attention, Daniel noted, seemed to be mostly focused on the water itself. When he wasn’t either looking down at where he was stepping or back at them, he was watching the water out of the corner of his eye.

Why does he keep looking at the water? Daniel wondered briefly, certain that with a clearer mind, he might be able to discern the reason, but he soon had to concentrate on his own steps as the slippery rocks became harder to navigate.

After several moments and a misplaced foot that almost led to both Daniel and Alaric taking an unplanned swim, the three of them finally reached the mouth of the cave. Jagged rocks lined the floor of the cave in intervals, interrupted by pooling water brought in by the waves moving in and out of the cave entrance. One cluster of rocks looked smooth enough for a person to sit on, so Alaric helped Daniel rest for a moment before moving deeper into the cave.

He looked up to realize that he couldn’t see the shore anymore, only the dark expanse of the ocean, with only the faintest bit of moonlight reflecting off its ever-moving surface. Daniel let out a sigh of relief; it was like the Keenai said, no one would be able to see any sign of the cave from shore. They were safe, for now.

It was at that moment when he finally relaxed, that the exhaustion from that night claimed him, and he lost consciousness.

~

It felt like mere moments had passed when Daniel awoke again, feeling very sore and lightheaded. He moved a hand to his head, thinking that everything must have been a horrible dream, that his mother would walk in to scold him about sleeping in, and his father would be trailing behind, making some cheesy joke. At least he hoped it was.

He was reminded of the grim reality when his eye focused on the stalactites, hanging like icicles from the roof of the cave. A reality that was only reinforced when he felt the bandage across his face.

He pulled his hand away, the back of his mind registering that the bandage was fresh. He moved to sit up, but before he could, a hand pushed him back down gently.

Lay down, you need rest, Alaric said, his familiar voice relaxing Daniel as he slowly took in the full expanse of their surroundings.

They were much deeper in the cave than he remembered. The cavern was large and spacious, with not only stalactites hanging from the ceiling but stalagmites jutting from the cave floor. It was damp but not flooded like the entrance had been. They were resting on an elevated outcropping of rock.

Daniel was in his clothes once more and covered by a furred blanket. A few feet away, a soft yet bright light and warm feeling came from what he assumed to be the same glowing stone he’d seen earlier that night. It certainly looked like the same one. He took a breath and wet his lips before turning back to his uncle.

What happened? I remember reaching the cave entrance but after that— The words tapered off as Alaric placed a hand over Daniel’s forehead, feeling for a fever.

Daniel noted that he too was also fully clothed again. After being satisfied by Daniel’s temperature, Alaric sat back and looked past the glow of the stone. He could hear the echoing sound of crashing waves coming from beyond it. That must have been the direction of the cave opening.

You lost consciousness just after we made it to the entrance. Alaric paused a moment before continuing, You were feverish and shivering badly… Admittedly I was panicked. I was so scared that I was going to lose you too, after everything else that happened tonight.

Alaric’s hands shook as he leaned forward on his crossed legs, the fear he had felt showing itself against his will. Daniel forced himself to sit up into a reclining position against the wall, his head swimming with the effort. He reached out to grip Alaric’s hand.

It’s okay, I’m fine now. I feel much better, he said with a smile.

Alaric returned the smile and looked back to the cave entrance. Yes. We have our strange friend to thank for that as well. He helped me carry you deeper into the cave. He gestured briefly to Daniel’s bandages. He also treated your wound.

Daniel looked at him for a moment, a little stunned. Wait, just treated? I thought that the Keenai people could heal wounds? he asked, foolishly believing one of the tales he’d heard in his younger years.

Alaric let out a bark of laughter.

I had asked him the same thing! You should have seen the look he gave me. You’d have thought I’d slapped him, he said, catching his breath before shaking his head. He said he couldn’t heal wounds, but he is a magnificent herbalist. He treated and dressed your wound beautifully. He also made a medicine to bring your temperature down.

Alaric then made a point of gesturing to the fur blanket and glowing stone. He was generous enough to provide these as well.

It took Daniel a few moments to absorb all of what his uncle was saying. He was very grateful to the Keenai for all his help. He had saved their lives and led them to safety, even treating his wound, but something from his memories of the items the Keenai had with him on the beach nagged at Daniel.

Daniel looked at Alaric.

Wait, how? he questioned. How could he have the supplies to make medicine or carry these objects? What about those daggers he fought with? They weren’t with his belongings at the beach. I also didn’t see him bring the stone with him when we left, how’d it get here?

With barely a breath in between questions, Alaric quickly held up his hands to get Daniel to stop talking for a moment.

Easy, slow down a little, he said, half-chuckling. He pulled it all from his bag, believe or not. I am pretty confident that’s also where the daggers went.

Bag? What bag? Daniel strained to remember if the Keenai had been carrying a bag and, after a moment, finally recalled the pouch attached to his belt.

Daniel frowned, then held his hands roughly nine inches apart. "That bag was this big. This big! he said, moving his hands in emphasis with his words. How could all of that fit in something so small!"

It made no sense to Daniel, maybe the medicine could fit but not the blanket and certainly not the glowing stone or daggers.

It is enchanted, said the soft-spoken voice of the Keenai as he approached from the darkness. It can carry a great deal of objects.

He sat down next to the stone, placing said bag and his longbow beside him, the slender furry form of the animal scurrying off his shoulders to curl up in Daniel’s lap. A little surprised, he moved a hand tentatively over the soft fur of its back, the gentle rumble of a purr rising with each stroke.

She likes you, the Keenai said with the faintest hint of a smile that disappeared when he saw Daniel staring at him.

Daniel couldn’t help but be a bit mystified now that he got a better look at the Keenai, his stark appearance seeming exotic to the young man. With the proximity and the light of the stone, he could see much of what had been hidden by distance and shadows. Unlike Alaric and Daniel, the Keenai had only resumed wearing his pants, showing off his muscular and athletic body. He could see the few accessories he wore in addition to his pants, such as the four-tiered anklet made of elongated beads, a simple wooden pendant with a deer head carved into it, and then the earrings. Lovely thirty-three-millimeter teal-colored gems of a pampel cut that dangled from a silver base. They were a stark contrast to the rustic feel of his other accessories, almost out of place on someone so worldly.

Daniel’s eyes were mostly drawn to the strange tattoo on the Keenai’s right bicep and the various scars scoring his body, the most prominent being the large scar running along the left side of his chest. Then there was the hair, or more precisely, the numerous tiny white flowers seemingly sprouting from the strands. They matched the ones growing from the tuft of raven-colored hair on the end of his tail. There were mint-colored markings on the temples of his face, the intricate pattern, swirls and curves bleeding into scale-shaped spots that spanned from the corner of his eye back to his ears and into his hairline, with a single curved line, separate from the rest, stretching beneath each eye a quarter of the way. Lastly were his eyes. Those mismatched eyes, striking and intense but also somehow doleful.

No one spoke for what seemed like ages. Only the purrs of the strange animal echoed around them, until Daniel finally had enough of the silence. With a deep breath, he looked at the man he owed his life to and spoke, hoping his words sounded as sincere as he felt.

Thank you for all that you have done for us. We are indebted to you, friend. The Keenai stared at Daniel with wide eyes, taken aback by his sudden words.

Daniel took advantage of this to continue speaking, After all that you have done for us, we are eternally grateful. My name’s Daniel of House Weatherly, and this is my Uncle Alaric, obviously of the same house. Might I ask for your name?

Daniel could tell that Alaric did not appreciate the fact that he had told a man they barely knew, even one who saved their lives, their real names. He could practically feel the disapproving glare his uncle was giving him. Daniel was sure that it was safe to tell him the truth since he doubted a Keenai would know anything about the royal family. Also whether Alaric believed it or not, Daniel was also certain this man was trustworthy.

Kal’deron. They both turned to face the Keenai. I am Kal’deron of the Sii’Ku Clan, and I already knew who you were, he said, Prince Daniel.

It was their turn to be stunned. Alaric’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. How exactly did you know who we are? he questioned.

You mean other than you calling him prince to those armored men earlier? Or that Weatherly happens to be the name of the royal family? Kal’deron asked.

"Yes, I realize those are