It was the tenth day she had been Master Kaito’s disciple.
Shagal took a deep breath, and strode on. She wasn’t scared. She would indeed be in trouble, but it wouldn’t be greater than Master Kaito’s power. She would endure whatever punishment the king brought upon her and she would fulfill her master’s orders.
And she would do so without anyone knowing, of course.
The capital walls finally emerged in the distance.
With her head held high, she approached the checkpoint. She could see the guards eyeing her warily. Soon, they moved with haste upon recognizing the infamous orc warrior. But she stood firmer than a hammer hickory tree while two of the guards grabbed her by the arms.
“Shagal, you are under arrest for disobeying orders from the king and attacking Daiyudura’s Master of Illusion and Royal Hero Paulus Novaillusio.”
She said nothing.
The guards bound her hands, their grip unnecessarily rough on her thick arms. She tensed. She could end their lives in an instant. But Kaito’s voice was loud and clear in her mind so she ignored the biting rope and calmed her fists.
This arrest was but the first step on a longer road. The road of the true hero. Kaito.
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
Goren was the best. He wasn’t immature like the young hero, and his power wasn’t in decline like that of the master of illusion. Yet, the king wouldn’t grant him the title. The king wouldn’t proclaim him number one.
He kept his gaze fixed straight ahead upon the withered figure slumped in the ornate throne, though his pointed ears still caught the whispers from the assembled courtiers.
“...some nerve to make demands of His Majesty...”
“...he’s not wrong though, we need a champion with Lord Orleado gone...”
Clenching his jaw, Goren halted at the foot of the dais, offering the barest tip of his head rather than a full bow. Pleasantries had no place in this conversation.
“Your Majesty,” he grunted. “I stand before you, a warrior who has shed his blood for Daiyudura’s soil.”
Upon his throne, Aldric gazed down at Goren, eyes rheumy but piercing beneath tufts of white hair. “Ever have you fought for this realm, Sir Goren. What urgent matter ignites this breach in decorum?”
Goren clasped his hands behind his back to hide their trembling. How could Aldric not see? “My liege, as the vanguard on our borders, I see our enemies grow bold in the absence of Lord Orleado. Without our legendary hero, they sniff weakness.”
“I’ve spilled my blood in our defense and stand ready to do so again. Grant me the honor to be Daiyudura’s champion, to rally our people against the encroaching darkness.”
He began slowly pacing before the throne, the words pouring forth. “I beseech you, my king, let me be the balm to our enemies’ bloodlust. Name me as Daiyudura’s champion, the beacon to rally our people. Our stability hangs by a thread and I cannot bear to watch us crumble.”
Aldric held up a hand weathered by time. “Your concern for Daiyudura’s safety is just, but we cannot simply replace one legend with another like changing cloaks.” His rheumy eyes took on a faraway look. “The one foretold shall return in our time of need. This Kaito...”
Goren Scoffed loudly, cutting him off. This mythical Kaito again! Even now with destruction looming, Aldric clung to fancy tales rather than reality.
“Peace, good Goren. I mean no disrespect equating you to fables. But coronating heroes would only invite more war.” Aldric sighed deeply and slumped deeper into his throne. “I am still your king. Have faith I shall lead us aright.”
Goren bit back his tongue until it bled, swallowing down the heated torrent of words begging for release. Faith. He had only one faith left—in himself. With a final fruitless appeal to his liege, Goren turned on his heel, deaf to the murmuring courtiers as he retreated from the throne room, his grand dreams in ashes.
Foolish king!
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
It was the eleventh day she had been Master Kaito’s disciple.
Shagal sat rigidly as the iron door creaked open. A man’s footsteps echoed in the small stone chamber. A tall man.
He bore no weapons that Shagal could see, just a leather folder tucked under one arm.
She knew this man. Decent fighter. But not stronger than her.
Reinoldus - the king’s infamous right hand and ruthless executor of justice.
With an indifferent glance at the shackled orc, Reinoldus settled at the rough-hewn table across from her, the wavering torchlight carving deep shadows into his angular face.
He rifled through the folder, scanning various documents and reports. His thin lips pressed tightly together, but he grunted whenever news displeased him greatly.
What a pitiful man.
Finally, after an eternity beneath that stony gaze, Reinoldus deigned to acknowledge the prisoner before him.
“Explain yourself, Shagal of the Broken Chains,” he commanded, each word clipped and razor sharp. “You defied your king’s direct orders by leaving this city. What folly blinded you to such a degree?”
Swallowing through a desert-dry throat, Shagal responded hoarsely, “Revenge. I wrongly held the warrior Kaito responsible for tragedies of the past. In my blind rage, I failed my duty to my king.”
Reinoldus steepled his long, spindly fingers before him, regarding her coolly. “Did you confront and assault the wizard Paulus, who stood rightly against your misguided quest?”
Shagal stared straight ahead, shoulders squared. “I freely confess my crime, and I am prepared to face the consequences His Majesty deems just.”
For endless moments, only the sputtering torch disturbed the tomb-like silence. Then, so softly Shagal barely heard it, Reinoldus sighed, “Tell me, did you find Kaito during your ill-fated journey?”
“No,” Shagal stated plainly. “I did not reach him.”
Reinoldus studied her a moment longer before exhaling slowly, a long release of breath that eased the tension gathered in his imposing frame. The severe cast around his eyes softened marginally.
“Despite your blatant disobedience, the king shows unexpected leniency. Consider yourself fortunate this day, Shagal.”
Shagal jerked her head up in surprise. Mercy? After such wanton violence against her own?
Seeing her shock, Reinoldus continued. “It appears the king harbored a faint hope that you might succeed in finding the prophesied hero Kaito. However, that hope has now faded. You are hereby released, warrior Shagal. Let this be a lesson in obedience and restraint.”
Utterly confounded as her shackles were unlocked, Shagal stumbled after Reinoldus through a maze of shadowed corridors towards freedom. Mercy where she expected none. What are the king’s plans for Kaito?
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
Goren shoved open the door to the heroes’ library, cursing under his breath after his fruitless audience with the king. That fool Aldric still clinging to prophecies and saviors while their enemies gathered at the gates!
With a growl, he kicked a wooden chair, sending it splintering against the wall. He slammed his fists on the desk, the sturdy wood split and cracked—books trembled on the shelves.
“Easy there!” Came a reproachful voice. “Always so expressive with your displeasure. Do try not to demolish the entire library, will you?”
“Paulus, the Master of Illusions, in flesh and blood. I thought Shagal had sent you to the afterlife.”
Paulus bristled, straightening his robes indignantly. “Ye of little faith! As if one raging berserker could fell the Master of Illusions.”
“Could’ve fooled me. That scrap with Shagal left you looking a decade older, my friend.”
“Yes, well,” Paulus hemmed, clearly ruffled. “I may have utilized a touch of subterfuge. Smoke and mirrors, you know...”
Before Goren could retort, a younger voice piped up. “Well, now we know who certainly can’t claim the title of number one,” Kota extricated himself from a pile of fallen books, dusting off his oversized robes.
Goren glanced dismissively at the prodigy. “Come to gloat, boy?”
“Nah, was having a nice nap before you started breaking stuff.” Kota tilted his head. “Guessing that talk with King Aldric didn’t go so great?”
Scowling, Goren turned away. Paulus seized on the opening, saying lightly, “Yes, Goren, enlighten us.”
The elf’s expression darkened. “The king is blind to our plight. He is too busy chasing legends and fairy tales while our enemies gather strength.”
Paulus chuckled. “Perhaps he’s more concerned about the princess’s disappearance? A royal dilemma, indeed.”
His frown deepened, Goren slammed a fist against the stones. “Aldric doesn’t even care about his own blood anymore! The princess is the least of his concerns. He’s even forsaken the prince, who was to be crowned this cycle.”
Kota, sorting through the books, spoke up. “The king’s obsession with unity and destiny seems to have clouded his judgment.”
“Clouded? The man’s senile!” Goren spat. “Ever since this Kaito was mentioned, he’s been lost in a world of his own.”
Paulus stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Kaito... the absent hero. It’s curious how one individual can unsettle the balance of an entire kingdom.”
Goren paced before the throne of books Kota had erected. “If only the king had the clarity to see what needs to be done. But no, we’re left to grapple with shadows and whispers.”
Kota closed a book with a soft thud. “Shadows and whispers often hold more truth than the blaring clamor of the court.”
Paulus nodded in agreement. “Indeed. But let us not forget, Goren, that even in times of uncertainty, opportunities arise. Perhaps it’s time for us to make a slight correction to Daiyudura’s course.”
He whirled to face them again, green eyes flashing. “You finally utter words that I can enjoy. The prince does show promise. Maybe you’re right, Paulus. Maybe it’s time we stopped waiting for a king’s command. If he’ll keep waiting for this so-called Kaito, unified destinies and spiritual nonsense, he’s not fit to lead.”
Kota merely shrugged while Paulus sat down in front of his broken desk. “Destinies intertwining...how fascinating.”
Goren jabbed an accusing finger. “This is about a senile king too stubborn to name the obvious champion to rally Daiyudura.” To himself he added darkly, “If we’re attacked now, we’ll fall for sure. So out with it old man, I’ll hear your proposal.”
“So insulting…must I remind you that you are older than me?”
Kota burrowed back into the pile of books. “You’re both obviously very old. Just leave me out of whatever power-hungry schemes you’re planning.”
It was the tenth day she had been Master Kaito’s disciple.
Shagal took a deep breath, and strode on. She wasn’t scared. She would indeed be in trouble, but it wouldn’t be greater than Master Kaito’s power. She would endure whatever punishment the king brought upon her and she would fulfill her master’s orders.
And she would do so without anyone knowing, of course.
The capital walls finally emerged in the distance.
With her head held high, she approached the checkpoint. She could see the guards eyeing her warily. Soon, they moved with haste upon recognizing the infamous orc warrior. But she stood firmer than a hammer hickory tree while two of the guards grabbed her by the arms.
“Shagal, you are under arrest for disobeying orders from the king and attacking Daiyudura’s Master of Illusion and Royal Hero Paulus Novaillusio.”
She said nothing.
The guards bound her hands, their grip unnecessarily rough on her thick arms. She tensed. She could end their lives in an instant. But Kaito’s voice was loud and clear in her mind so she ignored the biting rope and calmed her fists.
This arrest was but the first step on a longer road. The road of the true hero. Kaito.
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
Goren was the best. He wasn’t immature like the young hero, and his power wasn’t in decline like that of the master of illusion. Yet, the king wouldn’t grant him the title. The king wouldn’t proclaim him number one.
He kept his gaze fixed straight ahead upon the withered figure slumped in the ornate throne, though his pointed ears still caught the whispers from the assembled courtiers.
“...some nerve to make demands of His Majesty...”
“...he’s not wrong though, we need a champion with Lord Orleado gone...”
Clenching his jaw, Goren halted at the foot of the dais, offering the barest tip of his head rather than a full bow. Pleasantries had no place in this conversation.
“Your Majesty,” he grunted. “I stand before you, a warrior who has shed his blood for Daiyudura’s soil.”
Upon his throne, Aldric gazed down at Goren, eyes rheumy but piercing beneath tufts of white hair. “Ever have you fought for this realm, Sir Goren. What urgent matter ignites this breach in decorum?”
Goren clasped his hands behind his back to hide their trembling. How could Aldric not see? “My liege, as the vanguard on our borders, I see our enemies grow bold in the absence of Lord Orleado. Without our legendary hero, they sniff weakness.”
“I’ve spilled my blood in our defense and stand ready to do so again. Grant me the honor to be Daiyudura’s champion, to rally our people against the encroaching darkness.”
He began slowly pacing before the throne, the words pouring forth. “I beseech you, my king, let me be the balm to our enemies’ bloodlust. Name me as Daiyudura’s champion, the beacon to rally our people. Our stability hangs by a thread and I cannot bear to watch us crumble.”
Aldric held up a hand weathered by time. “Your concern for Daiyudura’s safety is just, but we cannot simply replace one legend with another like changing cloaks.” His rheumy eyes took on a faraway look. “The one foretold shall return in our time of need. This Kaito...”
Goren Scoffed loudly, cutting him off. This mythical Kaito again! Even now with destruction looming, Aldric clung to fancy tales rather than reality.
“Peace, good Goren. I mean no disrespect equating you to fables. But coronating heroes would only invite more war.” Aldric sighed deeply and slumped deeper into his throne. “I am still your king. Have faith I shall lead us aright.”
Goren bit back his tongue until it bled, swallowing down the heated torrent of words begging for release. Faith. He had only one faith left—in himself. With a final fruitless appeal to his liege, Goren turned on his heel, deaf to the murmuring courtiers as he retreated from the throne room, his grand dreams in ashes.
Foolish king!
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
It was the eleventh day she had been Master Kaito’s disciple.
Shagal sat rigidly as the iron door creaked open. A man’s footsteps echoed in the small stone chamber. A tall man.
He bore no weapons that Shagal could see, just a leather folder tucked under one arm.
She knew this man. Decent fighter. But not stronger than her.
Reinoldus - the king’s infamous right hand and ruthless executor of justice.
With an indifferent glance at the shackled orc, Reinoldus settled at the rough-hewn table across from her, the wavering torchlight carving deep shadows into his angular face.
He rifled through the folder, scanning various documents and reports. His thin lips pressed tightly together, but he grunted whenever news displeased him greatly.
What a pitiful man.
Finally, after an eternity beneath that stony gaze, Reinoldus deigned to acknowledge the prisoner before him.
“Explain yourself, Shagal of the Broken Chains,” he commanded, each word clipped and razor sharp. “You defied your king’s direct orders by leaving this city. What folly blinded you to such a degree?”
Swallowing through a desert-dry throat, Shagal responded hoarsely, “Revenge. I wrongly held the warrior Kaito responsible for tragedies of the past. In my blind rage, I failed my duty to my king.”
Reinoldus steepled his long, spindly fingers before him, regarding her coolly. “Did you confront and assault the wizard Paulus, who stood rightly against your misguided quest?”
Shagal stared straight ahead, shoulders squared. “I freely confess my crime, and I am prepared to face the consequences His Majesty deems just.”
For endless moments, only the sputtering torch disturbed the tomb-like silence. Then, so softly Shagal barely heard it, Reinoldus sighed, “Tell me, did you find Kaito during your ill-fated journey?”
“No,” Shagal stated plainly. “I did not reach him.”
Reinoldus studied her a moment longer before exhaling slowly, a long release of breath that eased the tension gathered in his imposing frame. The severe cast around his eyes softened marginally.
“Despite your blatant disobedience, the king shows unexpected leniency. Consider yourself fortunate this day, Shagal.”
Shagal jerked her head up in surprise. Mercy? After such wanton violence against her own?
Seeing her shock, Reinoldus continued. “It appears the king harbored a faint hope that you might succeed in finding the prophesied hero Kaito. However, that hope has now faded. You are hereby released, warrior Shagal. Let this be a lesson in obedience and restraint.”
Utterly confounded as her shackles were unlocked, Shagal stumbled after Reinoldus through a maze of shadowed corridors towards freedom. Mercy where she expected none. What are the king’s plans for Kaito?
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
Goren shoved open the door to the heroes’ library, cursing under his breath after his fruitless audience with the king. That fool Aldric still clinging to prophecies and saviors while their enemies gathered at the gates!
With a growl, he kicked a wooden chair, sending it splintering against the wall. He slammed his fists on the desk, the sturdy wood split and cracked—books trembled on the shelves.
“Easy there!” Came a reproachful voice. “Always so expressive with your displeasure. Do try not to demolish the entire library, will you?”
“Paulus, the Master of Illusions, in flesh and blood. I thought Shagal had sent you to the afterlife.”
Paulus bristled, straightening his robes indignantly. “Ye of little faith! As if one raging berserker could fell the Master of Illusions.”
“Could’ve fooled me. That scrap with Shagal left you looking a decade older, my friend.”
“Yes, well,” Paulus hemmed, clearly ruffled. “I may have utilized a touch of subterfuge. Smoke and mirrors, you know...”
Before Goren could retort, a younger voice piped up. “Well, now we know who certainly can’t claim the title of number one,” Kota extricated himself from a pile of fallen books, dusting off his oversized robes.
Goren glanced dismissively at the prodigy. “Come to gloat, boy?”
“Nah, was having a nice nap before you started breaking stuff.” Kota tilted his head. “Guessing that talk with King Aldric didn’t go so great?”
Scowling, Goren turned away. Paulus seized on the opening, saying lightly, “Yes, Goren, enlighten us.”
The elf’s expression darkened. “The king is blind to our plight. He is too busy chasing legends and fairy tales while our enemies gather strength.”
Paulus chuckled. “Perhaps he’s more concerned about the princess’s disappearance? A royal dilemma, indeed.”
His frown deepened, Goren slammed a fist against the stones. “Aldric doesn’t even care about his own blood anymore! The princess is the least of his concerns. He’s even forsaken the prince, who was to be crowned this cycle.”
Kota, sorting through the books, spoke up. “The king’s obsession with unity and destiny seems to have clouded his judgment.”
“Clouded? The man’s senile!” Goren spat. “Ever since this Kaito was mentioned, he’s been lost in a world of his own.”
Paulus stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Kaito... the absent hero. It’s curious how one individual can unsettle the balance of an entire kingdom.”
Goren paced before the throne of books Kota had erected. “If only the king had the clarity to see what needs to be done. But no, we’re left to grapple with shadows and whispers.”
Kota closed a book with a soft thud. “Shadows and whispers often hold more truth than the blaring clamor of the court.”
Paulus nodded in agreement. “Indeed. But let us not forget, Goren, that even in times of uncertainty, opportunities arise. Perhaps it’s time for us to make a slight correction to Daiyudura’s course.”
He whirled to face them again, green eyes flashing. “You finally utter words that I can enjoy. The prince does show promise. Maybe you’re right, Paulus. Maybe it’s time we stopped waiting for a king’s command. If he’ll keep waiting for this so-called Kaito, unified destinies and spiritual nonsense, he’s not fit to lead.”
Kota merely shrugged while Paulus sat down in front of his broken desk. “Destinies intertwining...how fascinating.”
Goren jabbed an accusing finger. “This is about a senile king too stubborn to name the obvious champion to rally Daiyudura.” To himself he added darkly, “If we’re attacked now, we’ll fall for sure. So out with it old man, I’ll hear your proposal.”
“So insulting…must I remind you that you are older than me?”
Kota burrowed back into the pile of books. “You’re both obviously very old. Just leave me out of whatever power-hungry schemes you’re planning.”
