It’s not something I want to unlearn, because even then I would still live in fear of its true face, the unknown shadow hanging over me like poison gas, slowly choking me until I flee or fall ill. It was something necessary to learn, something I find myself reluctant to share. Not that you shouldn’t know it yourself, but I wish I didn’t have to be the one to tell you.
Brex drew a chalk line connecting the words CLARET and FEAST before putting a circle around each of them.
He stepped back from the chalkboard, the one that had finally been delivered to his chambers, which he had placed facing away from the door so the light could hit it through the window (when his broad shadow wasn’t in the way).
He heaved a sigh, looking at all the names that he’d put around that big circular FEAST.
Claret. Princess
Rufus. Prince.
Alizarin. Also Prince.
Oswin. Advisor. (Godfather?)
Vermilla. Handmaiden.
Cerise. Queen.
Crim. King.
Each of them were present that night. Alizarin and King Crim even spoke, just hours before Alizarin disappeared. Rufus had set off an alarm for an intruder, but were there any witnesses for that? Or was it some kind of trap?
Brex sat in his chair, tapping the chalk against the table without thinking, his other hand reaching into his bag and finding…
The worry block that Karna had given him before they left Goronich.
Brex set the chalk down and ran his thumb over the smooth, pleasant divot of the polished wood. It was genuinely pleasant to have something to do with his hands while his eyes wandered, eventually falling upon Sorcery for Improved Communication and Personal Growth.
It made sense to talk to Tiyash so that he could get a little perspective, but to summon some kind of personal apparition for the sake of his amateur Defender work…
No, using that so soon again would mean he’d be using sorcery as a crutch, wouldn’t it? He couldn’t let himself grow so reliant on a single tool.
But what other options did he have?
After all, there’s not anyone I can trust here beyond Alizarin. And he’s already said that he doesn’t want me to dig into this.
So there wasn’t anyone to trust but himself. And if that was the case, then it seemed perfectly reasonable to have someone to evaluate ideas with.
Someone with experience investigating crimes. Because Royal Kidnapping was certainly a crime.
Would that be called regi-napping? he wondered.
Brex flipped the book open and grabbed his enchanting plate.
Project—Memory—Person—Extrapolate—Opinion—Emotion—Into—Senses
Not terribly difficult to perform, he just had to make sure that he had one specific person on his mind as he carved that third glyph. A crackle of sound with a gentle burst of light and the catalyst was ready. He slipped it on his finger.
And Karna appeared before him.
He couldn’t help but smile at seeing a familiar face.
She glanced around, surely noting details about the room to herself, then turning her eyes to Brex.
“So. This is new,” she said, walking over to the window and looking out at Sangara. “Oh, all up in a tower, overlooking a city. Where are we?”
“The Felarin Territories,” Brex said, joining her.
“Mmm, and you’ve got yourself locked at the top of a castle. Just waiting to grow your hair out, letting it flow down to the ground so some prince can come rescue you, right?”
Brex sighed. “No, the prince is the one who thinks I should stay up here.”
Karna made a facetious gasp. “The prince who was willing to kill and lie for you found a drastic solution to keep you safe for all eternity? I am shocked.”
“Wait–hold on, he didn’t say all eternity, just for a little while. Were you always this sarcastic?”
“No. That’s just a benefit from being on good terms with me after I followed you across the seas,” she said before turning her gaze to the chalkboard. “And what’s this mess?”
Brex sat down at his studying table, slumping his face in his hands while staring down the half-assed conspiracy web he’d drawn. “This is what I need help with.”
“Clearly.”
“I need you to help me fill this in.”
“I’m not going to magically close the gaps, Brex. Get some other spell to do that for you,” Karna said.
“I don’t want to do it with sorcery if I can help it. There are so many illusions in sorcery and I’m all alone up here. What if I come up with something terrible and get paranoid and turn into Wallach?”
“You’ll have to go a lot farther to turn into something that depraved,” Karna said before trying to pick up a piece of chalk. Of course, her hand went right through it. “All right, you’re taking notes.”
Brex lurched upward, grabbing the chalk and pressing it to the board.
“Tell me what you know happened in two sentences.” Karna said.
“Uhhh…” Brex stammered. “A couple years ago, Alizarin was a hedonist prince who didn’t want to inherit the throne because it was too much responsibility, but his father the king was ill enough that it might happen anyway. On the night celebrating the king’s day of birth, he met with Alizarin, they argued, his sister the Princess delivered them both some drinks, and at some point, everyone went to bed—the next morning he’d disappeared.”
“And you’re trying to discern what happened between that night and when you met him, right? How does that connect to what he said in the courtroom?”
“What did he say in the courtroom?”
Karna narrowed her eyes and scrunched up her lips.
“Could you remind me?” Brex asked.
She sighed. “He said, ‘the last thing I remember was feeling tired after a particularly filling meal with my family. When I awoke, I was caged in the cargo compartment of a ship—in the shape of a wild lion.’”
“So, we don’t need to connect him to the savannah,” Brex said. “We only need to figure out how he got on that ship.”
Karna nodded. “And would you look at that?” She gestured out the window. “Sangara has plenty of docks.”
“How do we know that the ship sailed from here?”
“You could check the records, if you knew the name of the ship. But does that matter? If you were trying to traffic someone out of Sangara and you had access to a ship at these docks, would you really bother carting him through the city just to take the roads that every other merchant takes, lined with city guard? Even if he was already in the shape of a wild lion by then, that’s some pretty precious cargo that would be easily spotted at an inspection stop.”
“All right, the docks do seem like a better option in that case.”
“So, you find out how he got put on that ship, you get closer to finding out who did this to him.”
“Someone must have brought him from his bedroom to the ship,” Brex said. “Because the last thing he remembered was going to bed. Maybe they drugged him? Or lied to him and modified his memory?”
“They’d still have to bring him past any patrol in the castle, no?”
Brex sat back and sighed. “Except Rufus scrambled the guards outside when they spotted an intruder.”
Karna crossed her arms. “If all the guards went outside to deal with the intruder…”
“…That leaves the halls empty of patrols.”
“Sounds like you need more information from this Rufus.”
Brex groaned. “And I still don’t know what Alizarin and the King talked about.”
“You could ask him.”
“The King?”
Karna frowned. “No, Alizarin.”
Brex turned away. “I…don’t want to do that.”
Karna stared at him.
“He told me not to dig into this stuff and that I shouldn’t worry about it.”
“And yet, here you are, clearly worrying about it.”
“Right, he doesn’t have to know that. I can manage the worrying part, he can take care of the ‘being a prince’ part.”
“So you’re just going to ask the King instead—and let me repeat that, the King—because you don’t want to hurt Alizarin’s feelings?”
“Well, when you put it like that…How hard is it to get an audience with a king anyway? I’m special, I saved his son’s life, didn’t I? That has to count for something.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. He’s a busy guy, I’m sure.”
“He could squeeze me in. It wouldn’t take long.”
Thunderous footsteps came from the hallway behind the door to the chamber. Brex scrambled to get up and flip the chalkboard over to hide his written thoughts about the night Alizarin disappeared. He managed to get it in just the right position when the door burst open.
Alizarin stepped in, heaved a sigh, shut the door behind him and walked over to the bed—falling face first into the sheets without even removing his cloak or boots.
Brex looked over at Karna, who rolled her eyes, then mouthed the words “We’ll talk later” to him. Brex pulled the ring from his finger and set it on his work table as she faded from sight. He took careful steps toward the bed, thinning his lips.
“Alizarin?”
He simply grunted into the bed.
“Is everything all right?” Brex asked as he sat down on the edge of the mattress. Alizarin rolled over toward Brex, lying face up and swinging his hand into Brex’s thigh, opening his fist.
Brex took Alizarin’s hand into his own without thinking.
“Please, Brex, don’t judge me too harshly for saying this. But being a prince…honestly putting effort into it, into caring about things and planning and trying to make decisions for the good of your people? It’s very difficult.”
Brex snorted a laugh.
“It is, though!” Alizarin said, almost playfully before heaving another sigh.
“Yeah?” Brex asked. “What makes it so hard?”
“I haven’t even started making decisions yet. I’m close to catching up on everything I missed when I was gone, but I always have to ask them for more information.”
Because you were too busy with concubines to pay attention to what was happening outside?
Brex winced as he caught himself in that thought, dismissing it with a squeeze of Alizarin’s hand.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I wish it wasn’t true, but I keep asking for more history. History I should know. Of the Pride-Tribes, the monarchy, everything.”
“Well, you’re putting the effort in now, right?”
“For whatever good that’s worth. I fear it’ll be years before I can make an informed decision that affects people,” Alizarin said.
“Better to prepare for a harsh winter than to be caught expecting a mild one,” Brex said.
Alizarin paused. “What’s that?”
“It’s something my grandfather used to say,” Brex mumbled. “Usually when I was complaining that I wanted more sweets or books or…anything I didn’t really need at the moment.” He turned his gaze back to the window, as if he could see the savannah outside Clan Ironheart’s encampment in the distance. “We didn’t have any feasts, like here. We had to be careful and store all of our surplus food and supplies because we never knew how bad that year’s winter would be.”
Alizarin squeezed Brex’s hand, listening carefully.
“But after a while, I realized it wasn’t about the numbers or rations. It was a mindset. If you take your time and prepare, you’ll be in a better position to help everyone. Act rashly, and you’ll have worse problems later.”
Brex turned back to Alizarin. “Take your time. Learn what you need to learn. You’ll be better off later for it.”
Alizarin offered a weak smile. “If only you’d told me that a few years earlier. Would have done me a lot of good back then.”
“Would you have listened?”
The prince heaved another sigh, resigned this time. “No, I’m confident I wouldn’t have. I didn’t listen to anyone, really.” He glanced up at Brex. “I take it Claret told you how I used to behave.”
“She filled me in a little, yes,” Brex said, cheeks starting to flush.
“You already know I’m not proud of the man I used to be,” Alizarin said. “I hope you see why, at least.”
“It’s…not hard to see why,” Brex said.
Alizarin laughed, pulling his other hand to his chest and miming as though a dagger had been plunged into his heart. “Brexothuruk, you wound me with your icy words.”
Brex chuckled. “Sorry, it’s just…If you’d been a part of my clan, we would have exiled you if you kept that up.”
“Rightfully so,” Alizarin said. “But I’m glad a fellow exile was able to set me on the right path.”
“I don’t know about—”
Alizarin held up a finger. “Hush, just take the compliment. I’m too tired to elaborate why.”
“Fine,” Brex said with a smirk.
“A shame this accursed dagger has cleaved my heart in twain,” Alizarin said, still pretending to grip it at his chest, adding a theatrical flourish to his words. “I fear I will expire at midnight tonight unless a brave hero can save me.”
Brex turned and leaned back on the bed, parallel to Alizarin. “Uh-huh. Is the curse killing you or the dagger?”
“It’s both,” Alizarin said, letting go of Brex’s hand to gesture wildly to the ceiling. “For I can only be saved by true love’s kiss, saving me from my accursed state, betwixt life and death.”
Brex raised his eyebrows. “True love’s kiss, huh?”
Alizarin nudged Brex. “That’s your cue, my hero.”
“All right, all right,” Brex said, moving to straddle Alizarin between his legs, putting his face mere inches from the prince’s.
“Better hurry up,” Alizarin said. “It’s almost midnight.”
Brex looked back to the window, showing the sun just barely touching the horizon. “Sure it is.” But he abided the suggestion, leaning down to kiss Alizarin on the lips.
It started off innocent. The kind of kiss he wouldn’t mind sharing in front of friends and family. But then their hands began to wander. Alizarin pulled him closer and Brex closed his eyes, sinking into him. He began to lose track of time as the passion they shared brought them a little closer. Made their bond a little deeper. A little stronger than before, moment by moment. They had shared a bed before, they had held each other, but they’d never kissed quite so passionately as this.
Alizarin was the first to pull back, calm and collected while Brex caught his breath.
“Well,” Brex said. “Did it work?”
Alizarin smiled. “Naturally. But this play is a tragedy, so I have to die of a stab wound.” He contorted his face into something hilariously unflattering, tongue and jaw askew, as though he were frozen in the middle of a violent sneeze.
Brex prodded at Alizarin’s cheek. “You keep making that face and it’s gonna stay that way.”
“That’s the point,” Alizarin said. “Anyway, hop off of there, my legs are starting to go numb.”
Brex slid off and curled up against the Prince.
“I want to spend more time with you,” he blurted out. “It’s hard, only seeing you in the mornings and evenings.”
“You couldn’t possibly want to attend these meetings I’m in, could you?”
“No, but…Maybe we can just have some time together in the city?”
Alizarin ran his fingers through Brex’s hair. “I think it might be time for that, yes, if you don’t mind being subtle about it. I have an opening tomorrow around noon.”
Brex beamed with excitement. “Really?”
“Really.”
They spent a few quiet moments together before Alizarin broke the silence again.
“I’m surprised you haven’t asked me yet,” he said.
“Asked you what?”
“What I was doing on the night I disappeared.”
Brex froze, half his face pressed against Alizarin’s body. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about that.”
“It didn’t stop you from talking to Claret about it.”
“She told you I was asking about that?”
“Not specifically,” Alizarin said. “But I put a few things together. A pretty natural conclusion. And you’re not that hard to read.”
“You said you didn’t want me to look into it.”
“That doesn’t usually stop you. Why would it now?”
It was a decent question that Brex had to spend a moment to consider. “I think…because this is your home. We’re not out traveling together anymore. I don’t want to make you upset. Or make anyone in your family upset.”
“But you want to know for yourself,” Alizarin said.
Brex sighed. “I do.”
“You always want to know things, even if they’ll hurt you.”
Alizarin kept raking his clawtips through Brex’s hair as they held each other close.
“Just don’t obsess over it, all right?” Alizarin said. “We should be focusing on the future, not the past.”
Brex turned his gaze toward the chalkboard in the corner of the room, his obsession apparent on its backside.
“All right.”
They had agreed to meet by the northern entrance to the castle right at noon, but as the clock tower rang its final chime, Alizarin was nowhere to be seen.
Vermilla stood at Brex’s side. “I’m sure he’s simply being held up by another one of his meetings,” she said. She’d escorted Brex from his chambers, and while it was exciting to step out of the castle walls for once, he really wanted to spend the time with Alizarin.
Brex glanced behind him, back toward the bustling streets of Sangara with its colorful awnings and canvas tents shading the citizens from the dry heat. The crowds and bustle of Harramschall, but the climate and culture of his home on the savannah.
Brex winced. Even after all this time, he still caught himself thinking of Clan Ironheart as his home.
Vermilla nudged Brex with her elbow, turning his attention back to the castle.
A regal figure descended the stairs near the exit, broad and large. But Brex knew immediately that it wasn’t Alizarin. Instead, Rufus was approaching them, bowing his head gently to Brex and Vermilla.
Brex bowed back, though he worried he didn’t bow far enough. Or maybe too far.
“My brother sends his apologies to the two of you. He promises he’ll make it up to you tonight, Master Brexothuruk. The diplomats have dragged him into another meeting, as the Primarch of Koreschan is due to arrive in two weeks. They want to brief him on Koresch policy and culture.”
Brex didn’t even want to admit he had no idea what Koreschan was. The anxiety of being ignorant about it managed to outweigh his disappointment that Alizarin wouldn’t be coming after all.
“But I need to inspect the eastern ramparts. And I’ve been told to answer whatever questions you might have for me until we part ways, Master Brexothuruk.”
“Uhh…”
Rufus gave both of them a pat on the shoulder and started to lead them into the city proper.
“Wait,” Brex said. “I don’t really know where we’re going, Alizarin was going to give me a tour of—”
Vermilla chimed in. “I can handle that, my dear.”
Brex really wished he’d managed to bring his notebook, but he’d just have to make do with this opportunity.
“So, uh, any question at all, Prince Rufus?” Brex asked.
“Please, just Rufus,” he said.
“Right, but are there any topics you consider forbidden?”
“Certainly not the night that Alizarin disappeared, which he warned me you might prod my memories about.”
Is it that obvious to them?
“R-right, well, can you tell me what you do remember about that night?”
They walked past a few vendors displaying huge open bags of spices and pigments that covered the entire spectrum of color. The streets they walked were covered with signs and advertisements about all the food and goods on sale. They would all try to pull Brex’s attention away from Rufus as soon as they entered his sight.
He wished he could just take off his translation spell to make them all look like gibberish instead, but he needed it to hear Rufus properly.
“It really wasn’t that special of a night for me. Father had plenty of birthday celebrations before, goodness knows he’s old enough for it.”
“Rufus! That’s the King you’re talking about.”
“My father is an old man, Vermilla, we shouldn’t try to hide it. Besides, with Alizarin back, we don’t have to whisper about succession anymore.”
As they walked along, they passed bystanders who would barely realize that the Prince himself was nearby and bow their heads in reverence until he passed.
The whole phenomenon was unnerving for Brex. Even chiefs in orcish clans didn’t receive displays of honor like this.
“Anyway,” Rufus continued. “The celebration itself was fairly typical. I remember that Father and Alizarin were constantly sneering at each other during the meal, like they’d done plenty of times before. Mother tried to get them to behave and Claret was spending her time reviewing documents. Most of them were too busy to enjoy the meal, except for me, ah-hah!” He barked out another laugh, startling a felarin woman into dropping her basket of vegetables as they passed.
“Reviewing documents? At a feast?” Brex asked.
“It was hardly a feast, we didn’t invite many others to join us. Since Father was ill at the time, it’d be unwise to make him exert so much effort by bringing representatives or diplomats to the meal. Just a family affair.”
“Still, why bring reading material?”
“Claret wasn’t always the charmer she is now. She spent a lot of her life simply consuming as much knowledge until she nearly choked on it all. I think she wanted to step into Mother’s role, the one she had before she married Father.”
“The way you stepped into your father’s role when he became King?”
Rufus’ eyes glimmered as a wry smile spread on his face. “You’re pretty quick on the draw, Master Brexothuruk.”
“Just…trying to pay attention,” Brex said. “Can you tell me what happened after the feast?”
“I know that Father and Alizarin left to have some discussion in private, but I needed to make my evening rounds to check on our patrols. I figured Father would just chew him out again for indulging too much in concubines or booze.”
“Did that happen often?”
“It wasn’t often. But I wouldn’t call it rare either. Regardless, as I was checking up on the northern entrance that I spotted a figure in a cloak.”
“Just a figure? You couldn’t make out if they were felarin or something else?”
“It was far off, at night, and they were in a cloak. Pretty difficult to spot any defining features, Brexothuruk,” Rufus said. “At first I thought it was a trick of the moonlight, but I sent a pair of guards out to investigate. As they were inspecting the spot, I saw something move out of the corner of my eye, and the intruder dashed into the gate entrance just behind me. The way they ran made me think they were a felarin, but I can’t be sure.”
“And what happened after that?”
“I scrambled the guards to track down the intruder. We barricaded each of the entrances, both the exterior gates and the interior doors, so that we could pin them down no matter where they ran off to.”
“But you didn’t find them.”
“No, the intruder eluded us, and I suppose they must have absconded with Alizarin somehow. I still don’t understand how, to this day, they might have done it. Just one person carrying a felarin Prince over their shoulders.”
They approached a large stone section of Sangara’s city wall, with a staircase leading up to the ramparts.
“I hope that was enlightening enough for you, Master Brexothuruk,” Rufus said. “Because this is where we part ways for now.”
Brex sighed. “Thank you, that was…informative. I can see why you never found out what really happened. It’s a puzzle, for sure.”
Rufus bowed once more and made for the stairs, leaving Brex and Vermilla to themselves.
“Vermilla,” Brex said. “Do you know if he was out there all night?”
She tilted her head quizzically. “How do you mean, Master Brex?”
“Was Alizarin gone by the time Rufus had finished searching for the intruder? Did any soldiers give testimony to his presence there?”
“Plenty,” Vermilla said. “I remember when the official investigation was going on, there were at least a half dozen soldiers who said they’d stayed by his side all night, in fear of an attempted assassination. They saw him react to the news that Alizarin had gone missing.”
Vermilla gestured for Brex to walk with her, and they headed back in the direction of the castle.
“How did he react?”
“First, with rage, then with emptiness. He felt that he failed his family in keeping them safe.”
“What kind of rage?”
“He was…very harsh with the guards for a while, until the King realized his emotions were getting in the way of his duties. He handed the responsibility to his second-in-command and forced Rufus to rest and grieve.”
“And that was where the emptiness came in,” Brex said.
“He was much quieter after that. It’s nice to see Rufus a little boisterous again.”
Brex held in a sigh.
So, he’s got an alibi. And his motivations don’t seem particularly strong either.
Some part of him was hoping Rufus’ story would have some crucial detail he could pick apart. The way he watched Karna pick apart Alizarin’s story, and then Captain Barrask’s. But there was still more to learn before he could unravel everything.
“What would you like to have for lunch, Master Brexothuruk?” Vermilla asked, gesturing down toward a whole street lined with vendors hanging spiced skewers of meat, delicious twisted pastries, and scoops of chilled dairy.
It took all of Brex’s might not to respond with “One of everything.”
As they finished their treats, Vermilla took Brex toward a large building on a street corner with an enormous sign displaying a single open book.
“Prince Alizarin tells me you’re rather well-read,” she said.
“Well. I enjoy reading. I don’t know if I count as well-read in tr—”
He cut himself off with a gasp as they entered.
It was the largest shop he’d ever seen dedicated to the collection and display of books. Literature. Instructional texts. History. Entire shelves filled with volumes upon volumes of information. All there, ready to be taken down, thumbed through, knowledge imparted to the reader until the next one came along.
“This way, Master Brex,” Vermilla motioned for him to join her in a smaller section toward the back, underneath a mezzanine (which had even more books Brex felt a yearning to open).
“I understand you have an interest in sorcery,” she said, gesturing to two entire aisles of books centered on sorcery.
Brex felt pulled toward them, enchanted by their enthralling knowledge. His thick fingers ran along a few of their spines, over their vertical titles.
101 Spells For Cooking.
Sorcery for Bookkeepers.
Best Practices for Safe Sorcery.
A Beginner’s Guide to Understanding Sorcery, Volumes 1 through 5 (Omnibus).
Sorcery for Improved Communication and Personal Growth.
Brex paused on that last one. The same book that he’d borrowed from his would-be tutor Okeer.
“Prince Alizarin mentioned he’d been wanting to get you one of these as a gift, but could never choose one to your tastes. So, I thought it wise to bring you here and let you choose for yourself. The crown will cover the cost,” Vermilla said. “I’ll be biding my time in the history section until you’re ready.”
“Y-yes, thank you,” Brex said. “That’s very kind of you both.”
She simply smiled and gave Brex his privacy there in the sorcery section.
He pulled down one book at random. Sorcery in the Age of Steel and Lumber. A historical text, tracking the development of sorcery through a few city-states as they started to build larger, more complicated structures. Entire chapters explaining how to build structures with built-in catalysts, like those sorcerous keys and locks that Brex had seen in Goronich and Harramschall.
And then there was Understanding Sorcery and Biology: A Practical Guide for Healers and Surgeons, which was only one shelf away. All about the way that Sorcery uses the Resource hidden in the muscle fibers of every individual. But also including how to perform surgery on a sorcerer to restore as much Resource as you can to them.
Alchemy: Danger and Prevention wasn’t far from that, either. Not just the mechanics of Alchemy, but also why it was deemed unsafe and how to spot when someone might be practicing it in secret.
He couldn’t pick one. It was impossible.
Brex slid the book back into its place on the shelf. It belonged here, with the others. With this entire library full of information on sorcery, just waiting for someone with the right amount of money to come by and remove it piece by piece.
And that filled him with dread. His entire future laid out before him. Just him and this shelf of books. That’s all that sorcery would ever be to him here. Him, Okeer, and the books.
It made him feel sick.
Brex clutched the shelf for balance, taking a deep breath and trying to center himself.
You’re just here for one book. Just pick the first one that interests you. The one that you want to read right now.
And yet, his fingers always came back to Sorcery for Improved Communication and Personal Growth, gently tilting it by the corner as though to pull it off the shelf before sliding it back.
It was useful, not because he wanted to read more of it, but because he could give the other one back to Okeer. Resolve that little problem of his before it could get out of hand.
That’s what he’s been doing this whole time. Just solving little problems, big problems, felarin problems, orc problems. It’d been so long since he sat down and focused on his studies. And the last time he did, he had to convince his tutor to leave him alone.
He pulled it from the shelf. His decision had been made.
One more little problem, then I can go back to learning sorcery properly.
As Vermilla and Brex strolled back toward the castle’s exterior gates, he slowed his pace.
“Vermilla,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “Is there any way I could possibly meet with the King or the Queen? Just to ask one of them about what happened that night? I just want to make sure that Alizarin is still safe here.”
She paused, folding her hands in front of her as Brex gripped his book tight.
“I make no promises, Master Brexothuruk,” she said. “But I could speak with Oswin about the possibility of an audience with the Queen. It would require quite a bit of luck, but if it goes well, I imagine Oswin will seek you out himself to evaluate your request.”
Brex heaved a sigh of relief. “It’s nice to know that the possibility is there. Even if it’s not likely,” Brex said.
Vermilla smiled. “I hope you had a lovely time out in the city today,” she said.
“I did,” Brex said. “I wish I had been able to see more of it.”
“In due time, I’m certain. Sangara is a beautiful place with many wonders to experience, and you’ll have plenty of opportunities to discover them.”
Somehow, as Brex strode up the stairs, he had a hard time believing that.
Brex had barely finished his sorcery placement test for Okeer when he heard a loud series of thuds at his door, making him jump in his seat.
“Come in,” he said, projecting his voice from the table at the window.
“I need your assistance, green thing!” came the reply. A familiar voice, not quite Red’s. “It’s a surprise…”
Brex perked up, setting down his pen and stepping over to the door. What kind of surprise could it be?
He grabbed the doorknob and pulled, only to see Alizarin in his full regalia, carrying a half dozen bottles in his arms. Far too many to try and open a door on his own.
“Sorry about earlier,” he said. “I want to make it up to you with a little cocktail hour on the balcony of the diplomat’s suite while it’s still empty. What do you say?”
Brex didn’t really know what to expect, but he still felt a pang of disappointment that it wasn’t Red at the door. Still, the reality was pleasant enough, and it sounded like a good time.
“Sure,” Brex said with a smile.
“Great, now take a few of these, my arms weren’t built for carrying this many bottles.”
Brex grabbed a trio of the spirits, glancing at their labels as the two went down the hall to the unoccupied suite. They all had such colorful labels with surprising names. Sacred Grove Wine. Frostcliff Icebrew. Firemane Whiskey. He even recognized the last one as a bottle he spotted while on his tour of the city earlier that day.
Alizarin guided them through the hallway, opening a door to an even more majestic room than their own, with a pair of chairs and a small table already set up on the balcony that overlooked the city of Sangara. The sun had only just set behind the hills and the twilight cast the kindest of shadows over the buildings below. Tiny pinpricks of light were starting to emerge in the encroaching darkness. Streetlights that the people of Sangara lit every evening to give their world a gentle glow.
“Thought it might be nice to give you a different kind of tour, given I had to cancel my appearance earlier today.” Alizarin set his bottles down on the table. “So, a delicious alcoholic tour of the United Felarin Pridelands. Just for the two of us.”
He gestured to the chair across from his own and Brex sat himself down. It was made from wrought iron and the seat was woven with strips of leather—and far more comfortable than it looked.
“First up, the most exported drink from Sangara: Firemane Whiskey.”
Alizarin poured brown liquid into two tiny glasses. Brex eyed them warily as he struggled to pinch the glass between his fingers. “Any reason why you’re not pouring these into a proper cup?”
“A few sips is all you’ll need. Don’t want you losing focus halfway through the tour,” Alizarin said with a laugh.
Brex took the requested sip and quickly discovered why. It was the strongest drink he’d ever had. Stronger than any ale or wine he’d ever tasted with his family at Clan Ironheart.
“Ugh!” He said, scrunching up his face in disgust. “This is your most popular export? Why!?”
“‘Discerning chefs and enthusiasts will appreciate the subtle flavors and heat within every drop of Firemane Whiskey,’” Alizarin said, reading the back of the bottle. “Never cared for it myself, but if people ever find out you live in Sangara, this is what they’ll ask about.” He flashed a smile. “I agree though, it’s not very good. But it’s local! In fact,” he said while pointing out toward a broad stone building just outside the city walls. “That’s the distillery.”
Brex leaned forward to get a better look, but there wasn’t much to see beyond the shape itself. Too far, or simply closed for now.
“All the Firemane Whiskey in the world comes from that building,” Alizarin said with hushed awe.
“You sound…proud about that,” Brex said.
“I am,” Alizarin said. “I feel honored to be associated with that somehow. I get the privilege of saying I represent the nation that produces something people love. Even if I happen to hate it.” He capped the bottle and scanned the others for the next drink. “Let’s try something more mellow. Frostcliff Icebrew.”
He poured a more generous serving for each of them. Brex much preferred the taste of this pale yellow and effervescent drink. It reminded him of the wheat ale he liked to share with Tiyash, but a bit sweeter, with a gentle tang.
“Much better,” he said.
“I agree.” Alizarin raised his glass and clinked it with Brex’s. “This comes from an alehouse on the other side of the mountain range. Rare and a bit pricey, but worth it for a lovely celebration.”
“What are we celebrating?” Brex asked.
“Let’s say…we’re celebrating each other.” Alizarin flashed another smile and Brex felt the warmth between them pull them a little closer. Alizarin clinked his glass with Brex again. “Congratulations on completing your quest to deliver the Bloodmane to his home, Brexothuruk.”
“And congratulations on returning to your rightful home, Prince Alizarin of the United Felarin Pride-Tribes, son of Crim, heir to the, uh…you know the rest.”
Alizarin looked out at the city while Brex found himself with a spurt of courage to admit it out loud. “Is it a bad thing that I miss it sometimes? That I miss Red?”
Alizarin looked back with a confused smile. “But I’m Red.”
“Well. You are and you aren’t,” Brex said. “You’re Red, but with all the Alizarin stuff mixed in too. Which is what makes you Prince Alizarin of the—”
“You don’t have to bother with all that,” Alizarin interrupted him. “You’re still Brexothuruk, son of Grotuk to most people. But you’re Brex to me. So just let me be Alizarin to you.”
“Hah. All right,” Brex said. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
“Which one?”
“Is it bad that I miss Red? Alizarin minus all the felarin stuff?”
“When I was an orc?”
Brex paused, the question striking him a bit harder than he expected. “Y-yes. I guess so.”
“I don’t think so. That was your first impression of me as a person,” Alizarin said. “I like to think I showed my true self to you before you found out I was royalty. And I think I made a fine orc, too.”
“You did. And I really needed an orc by my side then. It’s hard to walk away from everything you ever knew and go to a place where everyone looks and talks so different from you. It was such a strange blessing that I convinced myself I was dreaming.”
“Is that why you miss those days?”
Brex’s hand gripped his glass a little tighter. “I think so. Despite it all…I still like being around other orcs. We know each other.”
“Like family,” Alizarin whispered.
Brex looked up. Alizarin’s gaze had wandered further from the city, out toward the sunset.
“I already told you about the person I used to be. But I don’t think you know how strange it is to see my family so civil. So warm and pleasant and genial. They weren’t like this before. It makes me wonder if I was the problem all along. It seemed like wherever I went, there was an argument or terse whispering.
“It wasn’t always like that. When I was a child, we were just a family that was well off. We never wanted for much, and Father’s connections through the leadership of the pride-tribe ensured that we’d have enough to take care of ourselves. Even during the Pride Wars…we were always protected.
“We were spoiled. Or maybe I was. It’s hard to say, it was so long ago. And when the Pride Wars ended, and our family was chosen to be royalty…it only made me worse. When your life goes from good to great, you expect it to keep improving, growing, becoming more and more magnificent. And you see people go from humble and thankful to desperately clutching their power. I didn’t want to consider what they were becoming, so I looked for a way to cope.”
Brex listened intently, leaning forward toward Alizarin, who glanced back at their display of bottles.
“This feels in somewhat poor taste, now. It’s a nice way to ignore your problems for a night or two, though. But when your problems are trapped in your home with you, trying to ignore them only makes them worse.
“I wish it hadn’t taken losing so much for me to realize what I had,” Alizarin said, turning back to Brex. “But when I lost that, I became Red. ‘Alizarin, minus all the felarin stuff.’ And it’s nice to know that Red is a good man, because he’s a big part of me. But he’s not all of me. And he’s not who I am right now.
“But I wouldn’t be who I am right now if I didn’t have you, Brex. I owe you so much. And I intend to spoil you rotten, if you’ll let me. Because I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Brex froze in the middle of his sip and choked down the ale. He hadn’t consciously considered Alizarin alone, without him, before now. And it stung. Because he knew exactly what he’d be doing without Alizarin: Studying at the University of Sorcery at Harramschall. He didn’t even need to consider it.
And he was afraid that he might prefer it.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you either,” Brex lied. “Though, we should probably send a block of Loquela lumber to Liam and Elaina.”
“We should,” Alizarin said. “We owe them at least half as much as I owe you.” He glanced out at the city again, pointing at a rooftop with laundry hanging on a clothesline on the roof. “That one…that little spot is special to me.”
“Special?” Brex asked, thankful for a change of subject.
“Before everything, when we were still getting used to Castle Carmine, I would sometimes sit on this balcony and drink all on my own.” He reached over and poured a golden liquid into Brex’s glass. When Brex lifted the glass and gazed through the drink at the colors of the sunset, they seemed to erupt with an even wider spectrum.
“Sometimes, I would see a pair of felarin sitting on that roof together, enjoying a drink or having a little picnic. And they would see me all the way up here. One time, I lifted my glass to them, and they did the same to me. After that, I returned to the balcony once a week, schedule permitting, and we’d toast each other if our paths crossed.”
Brex looked down at the building he pointed toward. Not a single person on the roof. Still just laundry, flapping in the wind.
Alizarin continued. “I sent them a message via courier. Just a simple request for their recommendation about what drink they liked to have on their little rooftop getaways. I wanted to share a bottle with them sometime.”
He turned the label of the bottle toward Brex. Magical Mystery Mead.
“Turns out, they made their own mead, and they sent me some.”
Brex lifted his glass to his lips and tasted the mead.
It was divine. Sweet, but not treacly. Crisp, like biting into a fresh pear. A hint of honey as an aftertaste, and barely a remnant of the alcohol itself. One couldn’t mistake this for cider or juice.
“It’s…really good,” Brex said.
“It’s my favorite,” Alizarin said. “I don’t think they ever knew it was me up here. At this distance, I could have been any felarin with a mane. Maybe they thought I was Father or Rufus. And apparently, even after I disappeared, they sent another bottle to Castle Carmine every other month. They’re still in there, brewing away. But I haven’t seen them on the roof since we arrived.”
“Is that so bad?” Brex asked.
“I’d hoped to see them.”
“But you know they’re there,” Brex said. “Even if you can’t witness them for yourself, you know they’ve gone forward in your absence, making the things they shared with you. I think there’s comfort in that.”
Alizarin smiled. “There is. I thought they were a young couple. Perhaps they had a child, and they’re too busy for rooftop picnics now.”
“Or they’re simply too busy making mead to drink it anymore.”
Alizarin laughed. “Let’s pray that never happens.” He lifted his glass again toward Brex. “A toast—to always making time for a drink.”
Brex lifted his glass and clinked it against Alizarin’s, smothering his ambition and hoping it would fade in the glimmer of the prince’s promise.
After a lovely evening on the balcony, they agreed it was time to retire to their chambers. Alizarin took the glasses back to the kitchen while Brex corked the bottles, bringing them back to their chambers.
When he opened the door, he instantly noticed a small, folded piece of paper on the ground. After setting each of the bottles on a shelf, he bent down to pick it up and unfold it, fingers shaking.
There was a single sentence written in a looping cursive script.
If you value your life, stop asking questions.
Orcanist 