Mythia: and the Awakened Beast Page 17

  He thought back to earlier that day, when he trained with his joyous knights for the jousting tournament with one of his best friends, Sir Fort, at his side. They briefly exchanged their worried thoughts about Lord Pileus, who completed the trio. Where had he gone off to? Regulus had strong assumptions that wherever he was, it was with the Doctrine, who was also missing. All he could do now is hope they were safe.

  The jousting had been fun but tiring and took a lot of his time and focus. It made his knights laugh again and relax. Let loose. Then he had supper with his father which took on a whole other level of fatigue. The amount of strength it took for him to keep his mouth shut, to nod his head in agreement with his father’s outlandishly slanted opinions took a strong amount of will that left him drained and depressed.

  Now, as he sat there in silence and comfort, his body tired from the jousting, his mind exhausted from pretending, his thoughts were able to wander. He slid his hand again across the satin sheets, the feel of smooth ivory skin, of her skin, against his. A shudder ran down his spine. He clutched tightly onto the sheet with his eyes closed and brought it up to his chest. He held it there against his beating heart, with each thump he snatched onto the memory of her warm brown eyes, her soft wavy hair, the vibrato of her voice. He felt as though the longer they were apart the less he remembered of her and the more she slipped away. He refused to let her slip away.

  His eyes snapped open and he glanced over at the dark tall window. The moon shined through it, casting a stream of hazy light across his chambers. “At least we share the same moon,” he muttered out loud. He settled down into his covers and closed his eyes. “See you soon, my love.” He pulled the sheets up to his face and let the silk embalm him in comfort as he drifted away, for at least in his dreams they were never apart.

  ◆◆◆

  Mythia awoke in the early darkness of the next morning. Krea breathed slowly from across the room in her own bed, still in a deep sleep. Mythia lifted her palm and let an orange flame shimmer in midair before tossing it over to the torch. She dressed in the shadowy semi-darkness, trading her torn tunic for a new one. She still struggled with the chainmail, but she had at least grown strong enough to lift it over her own head. She watched Krea for a moment, not wishing to disturb her peaceful sleep. Hesitating, she gently stroked her friend’s arm until her blue eyes blinked open.

  “Already?” Krea groaned.

  “I’m afraid so,” Mythia replied softly. She waited patiently for Krea to dress, trying to imagine her bubbly friend in actual combat. How was she going to break it to her? How would she take it? And the rest of the recruits… still so new and fresh, still learning, but so eager. How will they react once they learn they will be heading into battle in two day’s time?

  But she knew that Bello was right about one thing. It was time. The king had gotten out of control and should no longer hold reign over the people. If they waited much longer, they might as well say goodbye to the kingdom of Terra.

  The two soldiers gathered in the kitchen with the other recruits, pouring tea and eating toast. It was abnormally quiet, as though they already knew what was coming. When Eldrid walked in, he met eyes briefly with Mythia and gave her a quick nod.

  “Choose your team,” he spoke in her ear. “Ventus will be in shortly to help you get everything started.” Mythia nodded, clutching at her lukewarm tea. She spotted Zane amongst the crowd, but before she could walk up to him, he disappeared through the door.

  “Krea!” Mythia jogged up to her blue-eyed friend, feeling very self-conscious about what she was about to ask her to do. Just then she spotted Ten and motioned for him to come over as well. “I’ve been assigned a mission. From Bello.” Krea smiled, her blue eyes sparking. Ten’s surly face turned down in a frown. “This Saturday, Trigonus will be holding its annual jousting tournament. Bello wants to use it as a ruse… and she wants us to start the combat.”

  “Us? You mean all the recruits, right?” Krea asked.

  “No. Just us. And Zane if I can get his attention,” Mythia sighed.

  “How does Bello expect a handful of beginner recruits to face the knights of Trigonus?” Ten questioned slowly.

  “We’re going to train like never before. And… We have our magic. The knights don’t.” Mythia swallowed.

  Ten casted his dark eyes downward. “I don’t think you want me in the group. You heard what Eldrid said. I’m not good at teamwork.”

  Mythia placed her hand on his shoulder and looked him squarely in the eyes. “You’re the only ones who really know who I am. The only recruits I can trust. But if you don’t want to… I understand. I have no position to force anybody into anything.”

  Ten clenched his hands into fists and stared straight back at her. “No. I’ll do it. If you really want me to, I will. You have my allegiance and my sword. My queen.” His voice was low enough so no one else could hear. A small smile broke across his face, for the first time since Mythia had met him. She turned to face Krea.

  Krea’s eyes were round. “It would be an honor to serve aside the queen… and the chosen one.” Her voice broke toward the end with a slight laugh.

  “Okay.” Mythia cleared her throat. “Let’s get to training.”

  They walked out of the recruit’s house to find Ventus waiting, her foot tapping against the stone floor, arms crossed. “About time,” she muttered. Mythia smiled and they followed her into the training cavern.

  ◆◆◆

  The head bounty hunter, Lurco, was massive. His head the size of a boulder resting on top of a pair of thick shoulders with no neck. His stomach protruded so far out and so low down it fell to his knees. He chewed on a long thigh bone between a mossy brown set of pointed teeth, sitting high up on his battered throne, small watery eyes watching the two prisoners in front of him. Clouds loomed over the sun, but the southern atmosphere held on to a tiny bit of warmth that the northern side of Terra had let go of. He tossed the stripped bone down to the growing pile beneath his feet and snatched at the bone full of meat that had been thrown into the air by a scrawny old man standing at his side.

  Lurco’s beady eyes watched the prisoners. They weren’t yelling or fighting. They were sitting there useless. Boring.

  Titus glanced up at Lurco, his handsome face squinting in the shady sun. “You must be bored. Sitting all day long. No entertainment to accompany your little… snack.” Titus eyed the growing pile of ivory, surrounded by buzzing black flies.

  Lurco sucked off the final strip of meat from the bone. He let out a large belch, pieces of meat flying out from his mouth. “Keep talking and I’ll turn you into a snack.” He wiggled his eyebrows as the old man at his side tossed him another chunk of meat. Titus eyed the oddly long bone and unfamiliar, charred texture of the meat with a cringe.

  “I’ll do you one better,” he said, careful not to think about what Lurco was consuming. Or who. “I’ll turn your boring view into an exciting one.” He winked.

  Lurco tore a long strip of meat off and chewed it thoughtfully for a moment. “What type of entertainment are we talking here?” He licked the grease off his fingertips.

  Titus flashed his pearly white teeth and shook out his long wavy dark hair. “I’m something of a performer in the city taverns.” The Doctrine glanced up just enough to raise one eyebrow at Titus. “I’ll put on a show you’ll never forget. I promise. It’s better than sitting here doing nothing.” He glanced back at the Doctrine, who sat slouched over, his hands still bound so tightly they were purple. “My friend here will need to accompany me. We’re something of a duo.” Lurco slurped the bone till it was dry as he considered the two prisoners. He raised his hand at the surrounding guards and twirled his fingers.

  The guards unlocked the jail door with a series of clicks and let it swing open. Titus glanced at the Doctrine whose face was a startling white. “He’s gonna need the use of his limbs and consciousness if we’re to perform at top quality,” Titus urged. One of the guards immediately slashed off the rope that had
been cutting off the Doctrine’s circulation. He collapsed to the ground with a puff of dirt. The second he was free, he ran over to his friend. “Doctrine!” He shook him till his eyes opened and helped him sit up. The Doctrine rubbed his wrists which were so bruised and cut he looked as though he were wearing purple and black bracelets. The color slowly returned to them.

  The guards allowed the two prisoners to exit their jail, training their bows on the prisoner’s hearts.

  “Okay, okay,” Titus shook out his arms and cracked his neck. The Doctrine was looking far more alert now that he was untied. “First, we’re going to tell a story.” He exchanged glances with the Doctrine who nodded in turn.

  “About the legends of the three beasts,” the Doctrine continued. He turned meaningfully to the marble phoenix statue at the corner of the courtyard. It appeared to be watching them with its round beady eyes.

  Titus opened his palms, the guards leaned in closer, pulling back their bow strings. A single flame popped off from each of his palms and danced into the air. He threw out one more, so there were three floating in front of him. He twirled his fingers till the flames resembled the three beasts: the phoenix, the dragon, and the unicorn.

  The Doctrine strayed off to the side as Titus let his fiery beasts dance, but his voice carried across the courtyard. “Long ago, when the Spiritus held reign upon the lands, the three magical beasts lived amongst the humans as guides and guardians.” The small fiery dragon grew slightly larger and opened its mouth in a silent roar. “The Dragon was the strongest of the three, using his muscle and brawn to keep the people safe. His demeanor made him quick tempered and easily aggravated.” A piece of meat dangled out of Lurco’s mouth as he hung his jaw slightly open, watching the flaming beasts dance. The guards slowly lowered their bows. The Doctrine felt a sense of peace spreading inch by inch in the courtyard as Titus slyly let out his peaceful unicorn powers. “The Phoenix had a fiery temper as well, but he used his mind for power rather than his strength. He was well learned in all the ways and able to see deep into someone’s eyes beyond any lies they may be harboring.” The Doctrine slid carefully sideways as he spoke, so slowly that no one noticed him moving.

  Titus made the phoenix flame spread out its wings and fly high above the others. He took over the story, his voice strong and mesmerizing. “But the Phoenix was so sure of himself, so certain of his own wisdom, that his pride became his greatest downfall.” The Doctrine slipped unnoticed between the guards, whose mouths were all hanging open, eyes glued to the dancing flames. He could hear Titus continue the story as he crept carefully across the courtyard toward the huge, white building only a few yards away. He slipped into the Archives and let out a sigh of relief. Miraculously, nothing was damaged in here. Hundreds and hundreds of stone shelves lined up in rows that went farther than he could see were still full of manuscripts beneath a towering ceiling painted with a magnificent phoenix of brilliant reds, orange, and yellows, just the way he remembered it from his childhood. Now his biggest problem was finding the right manuscript amongst the thousands. If only he had more time…

  ◆◆◆

  “When we joust on Saturday, we do not fight to win. We do not fight for applause or recognition. We fight for one thing and one thing only. Honor.” Prince Regulus sat high on his pure white horse facing his knights. Sir Fort, who stood closest to him, nodded his head in agreement. “Every year we hold this tournament to prove our worthiness as knights- but to who?”

  “To the king!” One of the knights yelled from the back.

  “The people!” Another knight shouted.

  Regulus held up his hand. “The king is the one who knighted us. He knows of our worth. The people depend on us and admire us for our duties, they know it too. There is only one we need to prove it to, again and again. Year after year.”

  Fort stepped his horse forward and raised his chin. “We need to prove it to ourselves, sire.”

  Regulus grinned. “Very good, Sir Fort!” Fort winked playfully in return. “As long as we know we deserve our title, we will live by the knight’s code not only with our minds, but our hearts as well. For if we do not believe in ourselves… how could anyone else believe in us?” He watched as his knights squinted in the bright morning sun, their faces ready for anything to come their way, soaking in every bit of wisdom he could provide for them. He swallowed, still uncertain that his father had made the right choice going on with the tournament. If any of his knights became endangered because of it… he would never forgive himself.

  ◆◆◆

  Mythia watched Eldrid show Ventus how to hold the long-pointed lance. Still amazed by the strength of her young friend, she could hardly tare her eyes away as Ventus jutted the lance forward. Eldrid wanted her to learn how to wield it before trying it out on a horse.

  Krea cleared her throat loudly. Mythia whipped around to Krea and Ten standing with their arms crossed, waiting patiently to begin training.

  Mythia sighed. “I was really hoping Zane could be a part of this… Maybe if we just wait a little longer…”

  Ten pointed toward the back of the cavern. “Perhaps not too much longer.” Red hair was visible just beyond the cluster of Rejicio soldiers, hobbling quickly toward them. He stopped just as his face entered their view, with a look of surprise and confusion. His brown eyes widened. He shook his head and jogged over to them. Just as Mythia was about to call his name, his ran straight past them.

  “What is he…?” Krea asked. They followed him with their eyes. Zane was running toward the stairs. Mythia looked up to see a group of Rejicio she did not recognize huddled together at the top. Zane took two steps at a time before colliding into one of them, a young man with reddish brown hair. “Could that be…?” Krea gasped. She took off in their direction. Mythia shrugged at Ten, and they joined in on the chase. Pushing through hundreds of soldiers, ducking as they nearly got beheaded by someone’s swinging sword. They jogged up the stairs and squeezed into the group of people.

  Zane spotted them and a grin broke across his freckled face. “Krea!” Mythia raised her eyebrows as Zane’s smile faded slightly, watching her carefully. “It’s my brother, Miles. He’s back.” He swallowed.

  Mythia frowned at them. “I thought he was still in the dungeons.”

  “He escaped,” Zane replied, still watching her carefully. “Miles told me he and the prince staged a scene to get them all out.” Surrounded by the group of escaped Rejicio hugging their loved ones, some crying tears of joy, others bearing bad news of those who did not make it, the sound of Mythia’s heart beat loudly in her ears. Thump thump. Thump thump. She felt the color drain from her face to the rhythm of the beating. The prince had helped the Rejicio escape? Why would he do that? Mythia’s thoughts swarmed loudly as the blood rushed through her ears. He isn’t with us... Bello had said he was against us. That he hated us. That he hated me… Why was the thought of the prince making her blood boil through her pounding heart?

  “Are you okay?” Ten rested a huge hand on her shoulder and peered at her with concern. Zane eyed them carefully, his eyes narrowing.

  Mythia shook herself back to reality. “I’m fine.”

  “You look like you’re going to pass out,” Krea said. The three of them stared at Mythia with worry.

  Mythia backed away, holding her hands in front of her. “I’m fine.”

  Miles suddenly appeared, resting his arm around his younger brother and giving him a squeeze. “So, what have I missed out on this past month? Other than you joining the Rejicio army. Maybe I’ll join with you, now that I’ve seen what we’re fighting for.”

  Zane tore his eyes away from Mythia and focused on his brother. “Really? I could probably teach you a thing or two.” He threw a couple of playful punches, but Miles ducked away just in time.

  “Who’re your friends?” Miles suddenly noticed the three watching them.

  Zane pulled Krea up. “This is Krea.” Krea stumbled forward and grasped Mile’s hand, smiling brightly. Zane motioned t
oward Ten. “And Ten.” Ten gave a quick nod. He hesitated when he got to Mythia, his face falling slightly. “I’m not even sure what to call you anymore.”

  Miles tilted his head in confusion for a moment before his face lit up with recognition. “I am!” He bent down on one knee and bowed his head low. Zane pulled him up, quickly looking back and forth, making sure no one noticed.

  “Do you know who she is?” Miles whispered at his brother.

  Zane sighed. “Yes. I do. But most people here don’t. And she needs to keep it that way... Right?” He glanced quickly over at Mythia who confirmed it with a nod.

  Miles settled on shaking her hand with a sheepish grin, but it was a while before he let go, and only because Zane was glaring at him. Something poked into Mythia’s back. She whipped around to find Ventus reminding them to get a move on.

  “We need to train,” Mythia muttered to Krea and Ten. “Krea, do you think you can convince him?” She glanced over at Zane. Krea nodded her head eagerly.

  “Zane?” Krea asked, puckering her lips and widening her eyes. Zane looked a bit confused at this new tactic, but she caught his attention. “We have a special assignment from Bello and we need you. Do you think you could put aside your disagreement with Bestia for the time being and join us in training?” She fluttered her eyelashes.

  Zane laughed. “You don’t have to do that Krea." He looked at Mythia, hurt etched behind his eyes, but he shook it away. "Of course, I’ll help. After all, feelings don’t matter, in the face of war. Doesn’t Bello say that?”

  “Special assignment, huh?” Miles said thoughtfully, crossing his arms. “Room for one more?”

  Mythia glanced at Ventus uncertainly. Ventus looked Miles up and down, considering his strong arms and broad shoulders. “I don’t see a problem with it. I think we could always use one more soldier when we’re casting ourselves into an extremely dangerous position. I’ll have to run it by Bello to make it official though… As long as you’re aware you may not get out of it alive.”