Soris came out of the building and went galloping after the carriage which was just wheeling out through the gates. “Wait! Stop!” he screamed in vain, continuing to run even after the gates had been closed. A guardian stepped before him. “Your Highness, what’s the matter?”
The boy fumbled as he couldn’t find the right words to say. “Soldier, please stop that cart!”
Soris pointed at the road. “That cart… we must stop it.”
The soldier looked backward, through the metal gates, and watched the dust clouds that had remained behind the carriage.
“My apologies, Your Highness. It’s already gone now,” he answered, not taking the boy seriously.
Soris clutched his hair with both hands. “Oh, what am I going to do?”
He paced up and down, overwhelmed by regrets while the guard’s gaze swung after his nervous movements, curious to guess what was troubling the prince, but also amused by the adult-like act. Moments later, the boy snapped his fingers and glanced up at the soldier with hope, “Has General Waltario returned?”
“Yes. About ten minutes ago. I think he’s in his studio.”
The prince started for the main entrance of the palace, through the alley at his left. The general would definitely understand him and help him get Princess back and the coveted liqueur bottle, too. As he ran, he clutched the medallion secretly kept at his chest. “Come on, pretty stone. You were supposed to be my lucky charm. Give me the right ideas.”
As he hastened close to the hedge bounding the alley, Clark pounced behind him out of nowhere. “Prince Soris, don’t you dare to run away. Your awful behavior is beyond redemption. Stop right now if you still wish to be forgiven.”
The boy shrieked but didn’t dare to look back. “Oh, Clark! Not now, please!” he begged, feeling his legs tensing painfully with each speeding step. Clark’s shadow was stretching long, almost swallowing him. He could hear the supervisor’s panting and loud footsteps approaching him. A few more seconds and he would be caught. He gripped the medallion again, praying for a miracle, and when he took a glimpse at it, it did seem to give a swift bright flash under his fingers. Clinging on that hope, his gallop gained more speed and he managed to pass around the corner of the garden without getting caught.
“Prince Soris, you better stop!” Clark gasped, growing tired from the run.
Soris wasn’t going to listen to him. Not now when he was just a hundred meters away from the entry staircase. General Waltario stood up there, on the landing which led to the main entrance into the palace. Feeling that Clark was soon going to catch him, the child shouted at the top of his lungs, “General! Help me!”
Waltario, along with his brother and a few sergeants, lowered bewildered eyes into his direction. The boy’s hair was a mess, and his face red, a sight which melted the general’s heart in an instant. He marched down to him and grabbed him by the shoulders. “What is it, kid?” he asked, forgetting about speech formalities.
Clark pulled the prince back. “Leave him, general. He’s possessed by the Devil today. He’s caused nothing but trouble. Don’t listen to his nonsense.”
“No! General, please.” Soris clutched Waltario’s sleeve. “It’s important!”
The general read the despair in the boy’s coral eyes. He looked at Clark. “It’s fine. I got this. If he’s up to some prank, I’ll punish him myself.”
Clark huffed and puffed, but then he conceded and withdrew to his chamber.
General Waltario lifted the boy with one arm and swiftly brushed his wild hair. “Well, tell me. What’s the problem?”
The boy swallowed to bring his voice back. “The messenger… he’s gone,” he uttered.
Waltario stared at him in surprise, then started for the garden. After a few steps, he twisted his neck back to his crew to let them know, with a slight nod of his head, that he wanted to talk with the boy in private. His men acknowledged his wish and returned to their own discussion, taming their own curiosity.
Strolling aimlessly in the garden, through the boy’s answers to his patient questions, Constantine found out almost everything that had happened.
“And the princess is now in the carriage because of me! Help me get her back, please!” the prince cried.
The general pondered for a while taking the boy’s recount with a grain of salt. “Okay,” he consented. “I’ll go after that carriage, but you’re going to come with me. If that princess that you’re talking about is not there, then you’re going to take responsibility for this.” The boy nodded repeatedly, his wet bangs following the motion of his head. The general put him down. “We’re going to ride my experimental flying vehicle, so you better brace yourself.” Soris lifted his gaze with excitement.
Close the faraway beach, after fighting a number of demons, Inerishia propped herself against a tree trunk to catch her breath. Strands of hair soaked in sweat had stuck to her clammy skin, onto her neck and temples. She’d been able to heal her wounds here and there, but her ragged clothing still carried proof of her bleedings. Just as she pulled back a loosen sleeve over her shoulder, an arrow came her way. She dropped to her knees, the arrow piercing the bole. The war was not over yet, although the White Castle was on the advantage.
Inerishia took some sand then threw it in her attacker’s direction, just as he was approaching her. The particles spread and swelled into a cloud, blocking his vision, so Inerishia had enough time to call a blaze of wind and thrust him into a tree. She gave a sigh of relief and forced herself to stand up and search for her husband.
Kendel was nowhere to be seen, in fact, she hadn’t seen him at all during the fight, but nor did she see Divian. The dark clouds were still close to the treetops and she could only presume that the devils’ leader hadn’t been killed. As she put one step in front of the other, advancing to the shore where the sea played with calm waves, she noticed bodies of defeated demons lying scattered across the battered sand. White Castle members had been injured too, but they had been pulled close to the base of a nearby cliff where they were waiting to receive some healing treatment from their luckier comrades. But those were only a few, and they were always turning back to fight as soon as they determined the wounds had been healed past the critical state.
Under the protective shadow of the towering cliff, Inerishia checked every patient but still couldn’t find her husband.
“Have you seen Kendel?” she asked every healer she ran into. Some of them simply ignored her or shook their heads and slunk off immediately. After watching her for a while, one of the injured fighters lifted his head and said, “Maybe you should check the dock.”
Inerishia took that as a clear answer. She hurried in that direction and climbed on the short dock of rocks. As soon as she heard some heavy breathing, she cried out her husband’s name. “Kendel, are you there?” A few more steps and she saw him stretched uncomfortably onto a wide stone. She skidded down, kneeling at his side and grabbed his face with both hands. “Are you all right?” she asked, assessing his injuries.
The loose clothing had suffered greatly during the battle. Kendel was bare-chested now, covered in grazes and red markings. Pale-faced, he uttered with pinched lips, “That coward… he ran away.”
Inerishia took note of a bleeding wound on Kendel’s stomach so she hurried to heal it. A feeble glow came from her trembling hands then streamed onto the open injury pulling back the blood around and rushing to heal his insides.
“Where is our daughter?” Kendel forced himself to ask, heaving with exertion.
Concentrated on the difficult healing, Inerishia was late to reply. “She’s safe. I took her to the safest place.”
Kendel watched her with delirious wet eyes. “I want to see her again.”
“You will, don’t worry. Keep your energy because this wound seems hard to heal. Maybe it’s because my powers are weak now.”
Kendel shook his head then looked at the grey sky. “No,” he whispered. “It’s because it’s a poisoned wound.”
Fear lodged in his wife’s heart. “Of course!” she realized with terror. “Almost all their weapons had poison.” She pushed her palms against his wound and forced her energy to gush out. “Don’t worry. I’m going to heal you. I just need some time and… and…”
Her sight went dark for a moment, signaling that her diminishing powers had reached critical limits. When she opened her eyes, she was resting over Kendel, who had politely accepted her accidental embrace. She got up, embarrassment setting her blood back in motion.
“That wasn’t intentional,” she hurried to explain herself, tucking her hair behind the ears.
“Well, if this was our last embrace,” Kendel joked with sad eyes.
“Don’t say that. You’re not going to die!” Inerishia assured him, probing the wound. It had barely closed in a bit and the tissues were still showing resistance before her power, telling her the poison was still running through Kendel’s veins. She pressed on the wound, attempting to restart the healing process. Kendel grabbed her hand.
“Stop. It won’t work. You need to live,” he said.
“You need to live, too!” she replied with indignation.
“I’m sorry, but I think…”
She pushed his hand away. “I don’t want to hear that. I’m not letting you go. Don’t you dare to say goodbye!”
She stood and screamed for help, but no one even cared to glimpse at her, so she scrambled upon the rocks and tottered toward one of her friends.
“Please, help me with some healing,” she pleaded.
The other woman quickly analyzed her then said, “You look fine. It must be Kendel that needs help and I cannot help you with that. In fact, no one can. Your mother, Lady Gladiole is here and she forbade us to help him.”
Inerishia insisted and tried to coerce someone to help her, but it was in vain. She grew desperate at the thought that Kendel would die simply because no one dared to disobey Gladiole’s orders. Drained of magical powers and with scarce physical power left, Inerishia went to confront her mother who had just returned to the beach.
“Help me heal him,” she demanded, piercing Gladiole with a sharp gaze. “Why don’t you let the healers touch him?”
Gladiole watched her daughter and laughed wryly. “He’s not one of us. If he hadn’t been able to protect himself, then that’s his fate. Let him die.”
Inerishia pushed her mother back with angry arms. “How can you be so heartless? If he’s not like us, then he’s a human and we’ve sworn to protect the humans.”
Gladiole parried some arrows thrown at them, then said to her daughter, “Get your act together, Inerishia. The battle isn’t over yet. There’s no time to talk about your meaningless love.” Gladiole summoned the wind to lift her from the ground then flew away to fight with a crowd of devils.
Inerishia turned around and searched some compassion in her friends’ eyes. They were all avoiding her, keeping their gazes in the ground. Exhausted and emotionally drained, Inerishia couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. She ran back to Kendel, hoping her powers would be able to make a miracle or that at least she would still find him alive. She did not want to believe that her vision was coming true.
Hurrying his horse toward a road close to the forest where Rainbow Mist was hovering above, the merchant observed some soldiers in grey costumes waving him to stop.
“Damn it,” he cursed to himself. “When did these guys become so zealous?”
The merchant slowed down the horse, and got off the carriage, pretending to be clueless. “What’s the matter?” he asked the soldier who approached him.
“This road isn’t safe. Turn back and take a detour.”
“Oh, but I came this way just today and everything was fine,” the merchant insisted.
The soldier swung a bored hand toward the chalky fog. “It was fine until Rainbow Mist appeared. The general himself ordered that we don’t let anyone pass.”
The merchant drew a devastated hand to his chest. “Oh, but what am I going to do? The king himself has demanded me to go and repair some chairs and then return with them tomorrow. If I take a detour, I’m going to get back here only next week!”
The soldier shrugged and withdrew to his place. Stifling some swear words, the merchant went back to his carriage and lifted a bag he had kept under his seat. Among other things, the liqueur bottle lay there too, unlike how Ines believed that it had been stored in the back of the wagon.
He took out a scroll that bore the king’s seal and went to talk with the group of soldiers.
“Dear, hardworking men,” he said looking at each one of them, “I have the king’s permit to pass every road.”
The men noticed the seal and squirmed in their places.
“I see, but the general…” one of them managed to say.
“Has anything bad ever happened when the Rainbow Mist appeared?” the merchant asked with sly eyes. “I understand the general’s caution, but it’s just a rare, big fog that doesn’t affect these roads at all.”
They all scratched their heads, afraid to say anything. His reasoning made sense, especially when no one had reported that anything bad had happened during the Rainbow Mist phenomena. The dense fog was kept at bay by the tall trees of the forest on the right side of the road, so there wasn’t any problem with the visibility either. Still, they daren’t disobey Waltario’s orders.
Seeing their humble hesitation, the merchant felt he had the upper hand, so he continued, “As far as I know, if someone opposes the king’s wish, they shall be punished.”
The soldiers bowed their heads and kept silent. The merchant strode back to his carriage and got on. The horse started its march and passed by the soldiers who turned a blind eye to its passing. Guilt-stricken, they hurried to erect a barrier of wood to block the road and hoped that nothing hazardous would emerge from the mist.
Next chapter coming soon! I hope you enjoy this story!