A part of me still wonders if this is the right path. I think I’ll wonder about it for years. Am I giving up? Or am I moving forward? Should I turn around and change my mind?
Should I fight harder? Am I doing what’s necessary to survive? Or am I putting myself before other people who need my help?
The moment I feel confident about my choice, doubt creeps in and casts a shadow on me. That’s the trouble with these kinds of questions. It’s impossible to know. There’s no textbook on how to live your life. There are no answers that you can simply work backwards from.
What do I owe to the people around me? What do I owe to myself? And what power do I have now to change anything? Not much, anymore. Ever since we first arrived here, I’ve had so little influence. But I have some left.
And before we say goodbye, I’m going to use it.
Darkness surrounded Brex. Light from the hallway behind him cleaved it in two, barely outlining a single broad figure sitting upon the throne in the center of the hall.
He had been told about the throne room, but he had never seen it in person. A privilege he realized that he would never truly have as he stepped forward, fingers barely gripping the edge of the door. It felt massive and infinite, boundless and ready to swallow him whole.
“Hello?” he said, keeping his voice low. “I was told to be here for an audience with—”
The door pulled back and slammed behind him, the dark quickly shutting out the lone ray of light from the entrance as it latched itself closed. Still, it wasn’t pitch black. He could see shapes, ornate and flourished, throughout the chamber. In the air, along the walls, even on the ground in dull relief. There was an ambient glow from a stained glass window, presumably depicting King Crim on his coronation day.
Footsteps rang out from somewhere far in front of him. Not just one pair. Two.
His eyes were starting to adjust. Two others stood at each side of the throne. Felarin, certainly. Feminine, likely.
Another pair of footsteps, thundering this time. A broad, maned silhouette. Four figures in all, standing in silence.
Brex didn’t speak. He didn’t want to be the first to acknowledge them. He didn’t want to be the prey that startled the predator into pouncing.
Two more figures appeared beside the others standing. Six, then.
Just as Brex had feared.
“Master Brexothuruk,” came Claret’s voice.
“Son of Grotuk,” said Rufus.
“Formerly of Clan Ironheart,” said Queen Cerise.
“The orc who brought my son home,” said the figure in the chair. His voice shook the very foundation of the building, little by little, sending a shiver through Brex’s spine.
King Crim, who had been sitting motionless in the throne since Brex entered, shifted in his seat.
A pair of curtains shifted behind them to let in a tall ray of twilight, illuminating each of their silhouettes.
They were all present. The entire royal family save for Alizarin, along with their two closest advisors, Vermilla and Oswin.
“I was…instructed to come here by—”
“Silence, orc,” Crim said. “You will speak only when permitted.”
Brex pursed his lips, desperately trying not to make a sound.
“You have meddled in the affairs of the royal family of the United Felarin Pride-Tribes, Brexothuruk,” Crim continued. “To what end have you harassed and badgered my family while you eat and sleep in our home, on our coin?”
Brex heaved a breath. “I simply wished to understand the events that led to Prince Alizarin’s disappearance, which, in time, led him to cross paths with me.”
“And do you understand those events, orc?”
Brex hated the way he spat out the word orc, as if to remind him that he was not felarin and he never would be. Always a them, never an us.
“I believe I do.”
“Then regale us with your telling of such a memorable night. Show us what you have managed to put together with your constant probing.”
Brex ran his thumb over the golden catalyst around his finger, a severing spell. The one that knocked The Bloodmane unconscious and set him down this path so long ago now.
“As I understand, not long before Prince Alizarin disappeared from the castle without a trace, Your Majesty was in ill health, spending much of your time necessarily resting. But it forced speculation as to your successor. By birthright, that would be Prince Alizarin, who was—at the time—a hedonist more interested in his own pleasures than providing for your nation. Should he lay claim to the throne, the future of the United Felarin Pride-Tribes was in doubt. The peace that you had long fought for would be fractured, and Prince Alizarin was in no condition to mend it.”
Brex’s eyes turned to Queen Cerise. “But this was as much a family problem as it was a political one. Your eldest son was in no shape to take this responsibility, but you had no other options, politically. The question of succession had barely been raised and the legislature hadn’t yet formalized the process. If you were to be a monarchy, everyone assumed the crown must pass to the eldest son.
“You gave him one last chance. Abdicate his right to the throne and pass it to Princess Claret. That was the suggestion you gave on the night he disappeared. But you didn’t expect him to listen. After all, he had brought a concubine along to dinner.”
Brex pursed his lips.
“And so, after that night’s meal, on the anniversary of the day of your majesty’s birth, each of you set the plan into motion.”
Claret and Rufus both straightened up, but the others remained still.
“Your majesty the King invited Prince Alizarin into a private room for drinks while the others sent the servants downstairs. This was to be a private discussion, and you couldn’t risk an information leak. But more importantly, you couldn’t risk any witnesses to what you were about to do.
“When it became clear that Prince Alizarin was interested neither in abdicating nor learning how to become a proper monarch, you asked for Princess Claret to prepare some drinks for the two of you. One, as per the normal recipe, for the King. Another, laced with a powerful sedative, for the Prince.”
Claret twitched her ear and Brex felt his determination flourish.
“If she were acting alone, it would have been too dangerous. But with your majesty’s involvement, it was trivial to avoid the poisoned glass. It took a while to work into Alizarin’s system, enough time for him to retreat to his chambers for the night. It gave each of you time to separate to your rooms, waiting for the signal to begin. And it came when Prince Rufus sounded the alarm for an intruder.”
Something cracked, echoing through the hall. Rufus pulled his hand away from the throne, clenching it into a fist.
“He scrambled the guards to amass outside, right when the entrances to the castle itself were barricaded to prevent entry. That left Alizarin trapped in the castle, unconscious, with only his family and the servants fearing for their lives.
“But there was no intruder. It was a convenient scapegoat for Alizarin’s disappearance and a method for ensuring your privacy. Because after that alarm sounded, you all knew exactly what you had to do. You assembled in Alizarin’s room with the sheets and blankets to cover his body. He was deeply unconscious by then, and with four people cooperating, together you were able to lift him and go exactly where you needed to get rid of him.
“The water lock, attached directly to the castle.”
Brex turned his eyes toward Cerise.
“That’s where you each witnessed a crime against sorcery itself. Her majesty the Queen had prepared a molten sorcerous concoction, which she had learned from her discussions with Okeer, who had studied the effects of permanent sorcerous metals on the body. And she had attached a spell to that liquid metal.
“Restrict, Feline, Body, Numb, Mind, Logic, Memory,” Brex said. “A spell to keep him in the shape of a wild lion while suppressing his memories. Which is why you needed such a powerful sedative. You needed his mind at its weakest and his body unable to wake him when you poured the metal over his spine.”
He paused to watch for Cerise’s reaction. But her shadow remained motionless.
“After watching your son and brother’s body shift into a wild animal, you loaded him onto a skiff and lowered yourself to the water, where a traveling merchant took just another exotic animal from Sangara off to another land. Far away from here. There was no Alizarin left to worry about, just a lion on some savannah halfway across the world.
“There were consequences. Your Majesty had to put proper effort into locating Prince Alizarin. But you were all confident that wouldn’t happen. Maybe you were heartbroken. Maybe you regretted it. But there was no going back.
“Princess Claret had to abdicate her right to the throne to throw suspicion away from her, but it was a family decision, so Prince Rufus would serve as an excellent successor, right in his father’s footsteps. Prince Alizarin’s disappearance would be a footnote in recorded felarin history.
“You sent out small teams of felarin to search the other major cities, in order to appease the dissenters. But you never expected that one team would actually find the Prince. In the nearby city of Goronich, no less, delivered to you by an orc who crossed his path years after you said your goodbyes.”
“And so the prodigal son has returned,” Crim said. “Delivered unto us by an ungrateful scoundrel who my son demands must stay in my home.”
Brex turned his eyes away from the King and didn’t speak. His presence here was a demand from Alizarin, then. He was never truly welcome.
“This is quite a lot of conjecture, Brexothuruk,” Queen Cerise said. “Do you have any physical proof of these allegations?”
“Not much, but I do,” Brex said. “There is a small remnant of sorcerous metal on the ground at the water lock. I felt its resonance when I first arrived here, and I believe that if it were examined, it would show the same spell that kept Prince Alizarin in the shape of a wild lion for so long.” He heaved a sigh. “And I find it unreasonable to consider any other outcome, if it did reveal that spell.”
The air in the room felt stale as Brex waited for the Queen’s response.
“It is as you say, Brexothuruk,” Queen Cerise said. “Largely, at least. We could not risk the very future of the Pride-Tribes in Alizarin’s hands. I love him dearly, but I know that he would have steered our fledgling nation toward a disastrous path.”
You love him dearly, Brex thought. But you still scarred him for life because he didn’t take your advice.
“Where is he now, your majesty?”
“The Prince is meeting with leaders of the Merchant’s Guild while the servants prepare dinner. We will join him in the dining hall after you return to your chambers.”
King Crim let out an angry chuff that echoed through the room.
“Oswin,” Queen Cerise said. “If you would.”
Oswin’s frame stepped forward, the light catching his body in a flash as he passed through the twilight. He held a small jewelry case in his hands, which he opened as he approached Brex.
“Unlike my husband, I applaud your efforts, Brexothuruk, even if I find them distasteful. You have demonstrated that you are a thorn in our side that needs removal. And despite such annoyances, we are grateful that you have brought Alizarin back home safely—and a changed man, no less. Thus, in a display of compassion, we will take care of every necessary cost to ensure your safe arrival at Harramschall, along with the fee of two semesters’ tuition at the University of Sorcery located therein.”
Brex found himself shocked. Inside the jewelry case were five sparkling, flawless emeralds, gleaming even in the limited twilight of the room.
“I…”
“Each gem is worth several hundred Harrish crowns, provided you select an experienced appraiser,” Cerise said. “You could refuse such an offer, Brexothuruk. But that would mean living in the same home as the people who you claimed to have ruthlessly transformed and exiled their son and brother. You hold no such relationship with us, not by blood or marriage. Do you expect we would treat you with the same care as Alizarin?”
No, he did not, Brex quickly realized. It was all too easy to imagine himself drinking from a glass and falling ill at Alizarin’s side. He couldn’t let that happen.
Oswin closed the box and presented it to Brex, who took it meekly with both hands.
“On the condition of this agreement, you will not speak of any of this with the Prince himself. If he were to hear of these deeds, his actions may threaten the institution of the monarchy itself.”
He couldn’t know. Of course. They had to protect themselves from the consequences.
“I understand.”
“Your ship will depart tomorrow at noon,” Oswin said at a volume only Brex could hear. “Please be gentle when you inform Prince Alizarin. I’m certain he will be troubled by the development.”
There was a plea in Oswin’s voice that Brex hadn’t ever heard before. The gentle cracking of a facade to reveal something much more fragile underneath.
“Please, Master Brexothuruk,” he said. “Treat him with the grace you’ve shown him for as long as I’ve known you. He speaks so very highly of you.”
Something inside Brex shattered upon hearing that.
“I…I will. I promise. He deserves that, after everything.”
“Thank you,” Oswin said. He turned and bowed lightly toward the others.
“It is agreed,” King Crim said. “You accept the crown’s generous gift and in return, you will never speak of the night my son disappeared to anyone. Oswin, please escort the orc to his chambers.”
Oswin bowed again, then turned and pressed his hand into the small of Brex’s back, gently guiding him to the door.
Brex turned back for a moment as they slipped through, the light pouring into the throne room one last time, enough to show Brex each of their somber, morose faces.
He hoped to the ancestors that his recounting of their betrayal would make each of them weep that night.
Brex stood in his chambers, feeling empty and broken.
No, not his chambers. The chambers of Prince Alizarin, who had insisted that Brex be allowed to remain here.
They were never his.
Even then, he questioned if it was all real. His mind had invented that illusion of Karna, hadn’t it? Maybe it showed him all of that, each of the felarin royal family and their closest servants, just to convince him that he was right. To justify his paranoia.
But the jewel box was still in his hands. And each of those emeralds had an undeniable shine and texture to them. Thousands of crowns in hush money, packed neatly into five beautiful gems.
He set the box down on his studying table.
Next to his copy of Sorcery for Improved Communication and Personal Growth.
I need help, he thought. But last time I tried that, it was a disaster.
But things had already gone so terribly wrong, even when he turned out to be horribly correct, perhaps there was room for a little more failure for comfort’s sake.
For once, Brex didn’t feel hurried to craft the spell. He used the same catalyst, his hands steady as he carved each stroke of the glyphs into his enchanting plate. There was one person he wanted to see. And the picture was clear in his mind as he carved the most important symbol. He had gotten this far ignoring the warnings of textbooks, what was one more moment of reckless disregard for his safety?
As he finished the final glyph, he felt a surge of energy within him while watching the light cascade from his strokes and disappear with a crack.
Brex lifted the ring from his enchanting plate, walked over to his bed, and sat on the edge as he put it over his finger.
The air was still, the sun’s heat drifting gently through the window as the twilight faded. He felt a weight press upon him, a drain on his body as he felt the sorcery begin its work. The only sound was a faint whisper of wind and crowing of birds standing atop the tower.
“It has been some time, my dearest child.”
Brex turned and immediately felt himself sink inward.
His grandfather, Grotuk of Clan Ironheart, sat beside him.
“It’s been so long, Grandpapa.”
This was not the grandfather he had watched waste away, fearing the loss of his only remaining family in the clan. This was Grotuk as he lived a few summers before. Large, big-bellied, with a warm smile and spectacles below his brow.
“I would embrace you, but, well…” Grotuk moved his hand into Brex’s, with no sensation of physical touch whatsoever, the illusion occupying the same space.
“I understand,” Brex said. “All too well.”
“Here you are again, hidden away with your books and your studies. It’s a pattern you never quite seem to break, Brexothuruk.”
“I did try,” Brex said. “But this time I’m not the one who’s deciding I should leave.”
“You may not have decided it, but you accept it,” Grotuk said.
“I feel like I should have pushed harder. It’s too easy like this. It feels wrong to be taking this kind of money, even if it would make things so much easier for me. They’re bribing me to leave, when I should be fighting for the person I love, shouldn’t I?”
“This is not your battle, Brexothuruk.”
Brex furrowed his brow. “It’s not?”
“No. This place has always belonged to the Prince. He fought to keep you here. He chose to bring you back. You may have agreed to come, but you did not enlist in his war with his family. You know what path lies ahead for you here.”
“That’s…not what I expected you to say.”
“What did you expect?”
“I thought you would say that I must fight. That I have to survive. Even if it’s dangerous here.”
Grotuk chuckled, gently nodding his head. “I said that to a much younger grandson. One that I feared would be treated cruelly by my clanmates and sent out into the savannah only to die. I did not want to think my legacy may end so ignobly.”
“So, I shouldn’t—”
Grotuk held up a hand. “Do not misunderstand me. You should still fight. You must survive. But an orc’s conflict is not always an enemy combatant. Sometimes it comes from within.” He held his fist over his heart. “Sometimes it comes from the voices that tell you that you aren’t good enough. That you are doomed to fail, over and over. That you will never be anything but the pittance you are now.”
“But surviving—”
“—is more than the simple act of staying alive.”
Brex rolled his eyes. “Grandpapa, that’s not what it means to—”
“Hush, let me finish now,” Grotuk said with a grin. “No matter what your dictionaries say, survival is more than simply living to the next day. Survival is building a future for yourself. And this?” He gestured toward the room. “This is no future for you. This is a slow, painful stagnation. And you know that. No lover could ever make this life pleasurable for you.”
“Ancestors, grandpapa, please don’t talk about lovers.”
Grotuk laughed. “You must continue to fight, my child. But you must fight for yourself. The world outside our clan is unkind to orcs like yourself. But it is surely where you will thrive. Not here, shriveling up into nothing because you couldn’t face the idea of hurting the person who put you here. If you don’t leave, you’ll have accomplished nothing other than finding a new tent to read all of your books within.”
Brex looked downward, considering those words.
And they rang true.
Who else did he speak with here but his would-be family? What books did he read save for those on his personal shelf? What did he do with his time but pull another tome from the shelf while wishing he could travel to the world outside his study?
“I miss him, grandpapa,” Brex said.
“I know. But he has not simply disappeared.”
“He’s just buried deep inside Alizarin now.”
Grotuk shifted on the bed, putting his hands on his knees. “Yes, but he is deep within your heart as well, my child. You will always carry him with you—for the rest of your life. You can choose to be grateful for his presence rather than mourn his absence. He is yours as much as he is Alizarin’s. The people that you carry in your heart make you the person that you are today.”
“Just one more time,” Brex mumbled. “One more time, please. I miss him so much.”
“Miss who?” asked a voice. Not Grotuk’s.
This time, Red sat beside him. A shudder flowed through Brex, bouncing up and down his body and reverberating through him. He wasn’t ready to see Red yet. He couldn’t stop the tears from flowing even as he pursed his lips in an attempt to hold it all in.
And he realized something as he looked into Red’s eyes for the first time in weeks. For the first time since he knelt in The Giant in Goronich.
“You have grandpapa’s eyes, Red.”
He smiled. “I have your eyes, Brex.”
“I want to hold you.”
“Someday, you will,” Red said.
He couldn’t handle it. He was ready to face his grandfather, but not Red. “I’m sorry, I can’t…” And he pulled the ring off, refusing to look in Red’s direction. Refusing to watch him disappear.
Not again.
He set the ring down at his side and wiped the tears from his cheeks. But the emotions were still too strong, he couldn’t stifle his sniffling and snorting. The sorrow had turned him into something ugly, something that felt wretched inside. It had unearthed so much, and it all came bubbling forth, like frothing saliva from a rabid animal.
He sat there, alone with his tears, without knowing how much time had passed. Darkness fell outside, but Brex never moved to light the room. He simply sat there in the dark, rubbing at his eyes and nose.
Then, the door opened.
Alizarin walked in with a tray of food, setting it down on the table before moving to light a candle.
“I didn’t see you down at the dining hall. Rufus said that you were still up here studying, so I brought you some—”
He stopped the moment he turned and saw Brex’s face, then rushed to his side, placing his hand over Brex’s. Warm. A tight grip. His arm reached out and pulled Brex close.
“Brex, are you unwell?”
Brex kept quiet, only moving to push his head into Alizarin’s chest and shoulder. Alizarin asked no further questions, only pulling Brex in closer as they held each other in the candlelight.
He wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. He wanted more time. A few more moments of delight before he had to ruin everything for Alizarin.
“It’s all right. I’m here. I’ve got you,” Alizarin said.
“Can we tour the city tonight?” Brex asked. “I…I really need to get out of here for a while.”
“Certainly,” Alizarin said. “Anything you need, we can make it happen.”
Alizarin left Brex’s side long enough to summon Oswin with a tug of the rotary bell lever, then returned.
“Can you tell me what happened, Brex?”
“Not yet,” Brex said before an ugly snort. “Soon. After the tour.” He wiped away his tears and mucus with his forearm, starting to recover. Alizarin ran his fingers through Brex’s hair, gently massaging his scalp.
“Come, let’s go to the window and plan our little walk. What do you think?”
Brex nodded and stood up with Alizarin, moving to the window. But when he saw one very specific rooftop, Brex knew exactly where he wanted to go that night.
Before they left, Brex asked Oswin to prepare a gift, a small basket of candies and cheeses. Alizarin was still asking about its true purpose as the two of them left the castle together, walking out into the lantern-lit streets of Sangara. Brex only said that it was a surprise, but if Alizarin figured it out before they arrived, Brex would confirm it.
He had managed to calm himself down with Alizarin by his side. And the lights surrounding them in the city managed to bring him some comfort. Sangara was so much brighter and more colorful than the quiet darkness of his bedchambers. He didn’t know whether to appreciate the vibrancy or hate himself for daring to deliver bad news under these stars. It was hard not to lean toward the negativity.
“It’s not for me, is it?” Alizarin said, holding the gift basket.
“No, no,” Brex said.
“It’s not for you, either?”
“No, not at all.”
“Then it must be for whoever we’re meeting, in this place you have picked out.”
Brex smiled. “That’s right.”
Alizarin smirked, adjusting his grip on the basket to hold it against his side and gesture with his free hand. “Forgive my bluntness, but I’m confident you don’t know that many landmarks around here. So where are we headed?”
“You’ll know it when you see it,” Brex said. It was nice to be a little coy. To have something positive to hide from Alizarin along with the negative.
And as he predicted, Alizarin did manage to piece it together after turning a corner. “Oh, Brex, you can’t possibly mean to—”
“I do. It’ll be fun. Just be your natural charming self, your highness.”
They stood a few strides away from a storefront squeezed between two similar-but-not-quite-identical facades, each of them reaching up a few stories with residential windows and architecture above the shops. The shop in front of them very clearly specialized in one particular product: Magical Mystery Mead.
“Is it wrong to say that I don’t want to know?” Alizarin asked.
“No, but I want to.”
“Isn’t it better not knowing?” Alizarin said. “Then, if they don’t live up to the image in my mind, I’ll never be disappointed.”
“But you’ll never give them the chance to surpass it,” Brex said. “Don’t they deserve that? And besides, we walked this whole way.”
Alizarin offered a quiet laugh. “All right. But only because you’re here.”
They approached and Brex knocked on the door while Alizarin held the gift basket.
Two felarin opened the door, both maneless. One was lithe and had a single light golden color to the fur over her body. The other was a bit broader and had a darker pattern around her head and neck. She was also holding a felarin child in her grasp.
“Hello,” the lithe one said. “Can we help you?”
“Yes,” Alizarin said. “We’re looking for the owners-slash-proprietors of Magical Mystery Mead.”
“I’m so sorry, but we’re about to close. Inventory is a little low but if you have the coin, we can—”
“Oh, we really must insist,” Brex said. “This is Prince Alizarin of the United Felarin Pride-Tribes. He wishes to share a gift and exchange a few stories, if you have the time.”
The broader one nearly dropped the child at the mention of Alizarin’s name. She and the lithe one quickly exchanged glances, nodding nervously as they moved for Brex and Alizarin to enter.
“P-prince Alizarin, o-of course! Do come in, please. We have a dining room upstairs, if you’d like a place to sit.”
Alizarin bowed before he stepped inside. “That sounds lovely.”
A few minutes later, they had all seated themselves around the dining room table in the modest residence above their shop. Brex and Alizarin had learned that the lithe one’s name was Aubrey and the other was Cecelia. Their child was Soren, but Cecelia had put him to bed right after the two of them arrived.
“So, pardon the question, but why come visit us on such short notice?” Aubrey asked.
“Well, it was my companion’s idea,” Alizarin said.
“A little while ago, Prince Alizarin mentioned to me that he used to spend a lot of time drinking on the balcony of Castle Carmine. A balcony that I believe you can see from your rooftop. He shared some of your mead with me and I thought it was the best thing I’d tasted in months,” Brex said. “So…I thought, why not show our appreciation?”
Cecelia and Aubrey raised their eyebrows at each other. “You…you were the royal on the balcony, all those times?” Aubrey asked.
Alizarin chuckled. “Indeed I was. I admit, I was afraid to come and meet you. I’m not sure someone like me should be meddling in your lives.”
Cecelia shrugged. “Like it or not, you’re always meddling in our lives. You’re attached to the crown. You make decisions that affect all of us,” she said before jumping in her seat a little. Aubrey must have prodded her, Brex realized.
“I suppose that’s true, and I’d do well to remember that,” Alizarin said. “Then I’m glad Brex convinced me to come.”
“Still, we’re honored you came to visit,” Aubrey said. “And it’s nice to finally meet the man we raised so many glasses to.”
“I admit, I’m a bit confused,” Alizarin said. “I thought a different young couple lived here, a man and a woman. I remember seeing someone with a mane from the balcony.”
Cecelia looked away for a moment, but Aubrey took her hand and squeezed it. “No, I assure you, your highness, that was the two of us.”
“There was a time, not too long ago, where I lived my life as a man,” Cecelia said. “Recently, I came to discover that felt…wrong. So with some help from Aubrey and a bit of medicinal mixtures, I’ve been trying to live more truthfully as myself.”
Alizarin beamed. “That’s wonderful! Is that why you keep your coat so well-trimmed around your head?”
“Y-yes. In time, it’ll be less noticeable, I think.”
“It looks beautiful already, but I trust that you know exactly what you want to do with it.”
Aubrey leaned toward Cecelia. “I fell in love with her before she made that choice, but her smile is so much brighter now, it feels like I got to fall in love all over again.” She placed a kiss on Cecelia’s cheek.
“It’s so nice to see people being their honest, most authentic selves,” Alizarin said. “One of our closest servants, Oswin, he had a similar change in his life. He began presenting himself as a man and was so much happier from that day forward.”
“There’s someone like that…in Castle Carmine?”
“Oswin is like family to me,” Alizarin said. “He’s been there for so many important moments while I was growing up. I would trust him with my life.”
Brex felt a chill run down his spine. For all the praise Alizarin was heaving upon Oswin, he had no idea the role Oswin played in Alizarin’s disappearance.
“Frankly, I’m amazed the two of you can handle a business like this and raising a child together,” Alizarin continued. “Sounds like a lot of work.”
“It is,” Aubrey said. “But it’s work worth doing.”
“Aubrey,” Cecelia said. “Do you think we should be having this discussion on the rooftop instead?”
“Only if our guests are willing to tell us how an orc ended up traveling all the way to Sangara,” Aubrey said as she stood. “Over a bottle of mead, if you’d like.”
Moments later, they were all seated under the stars with a perfectly reversed view of Castle Carmine cutting out a shadow in the sky. Each of them had a glass of mead and were nibbling on the cheeses and candies that Alizarin and Brex had brought, straight from the basket.
Unlike the many times before, Brex was the one who told the story. And he told it from his perspective, sharing a short history of his time with Clan Ironheart with Cecelia and Aubrey, explaining why it was so important for him to return to his clan with the hide of a lion. And why ultimately, he chose to bring The Bloodmane home instead of staying with his clan.
He told them of the moment he discovered that the lion walking along with him was something else entirely. He told them of the way that Alizarin had rescued him from the prison inside Wallach’s repurposed laboratory in the quiet town of Ziqondi.
He told them of the dwarven Enforcer who chased them to Harramschall. The storm that brought them together for a few moments, then gave him the opportunity to flee to Goronich, where they could undo the spell preventing Alizarin from becoming his honest, most authentic self.
He told them of their close call with Karna, catching up with them right as the spell took hold on Alizarin’s back. And he told them of the way Alizarin arrived in the Goronich courts to try and clear Brex’s name, even though ultimately, the truth was much more sinister.
They shared stories until the city began to dim. Until the moon and stars shined brighter than any of the lights below them. Until Brex could confidently say that it was a good night they were sharing with each other.
So he could feel slightly better about ruining all of it.
Cecelia left the rooftop to go check on Soren, and Brex took the opportunity to pull Aubrey aside, asking if he can use their rooftop for a private conversation with Alizarin, away from the castle. She agreed, seeing something in Brex’s eyes that made her ask no further questions.
Brex sat back down next to Alizarin, looking up at Castle Carmine and the balcony they’d relaxed upon just a few days before. The moonlight cast down on the castle, giving it a shadow that stretched over the ocean and lit the stonework in sharp relief.
“Alizarin…” he began. “I…”
Even speaking the words felt like dragging himself through bramble. It was too hard to form such a traitorous sentence.
How kind of Alizarin, then, to save him such disgrace.
“You’re leaving,” he said. “Aren’t you?” He kept his eyes on the empty glass of mead in his hands, the few remaining drops clinging to the gentle curve where the bowl met the stem.
Brex felt the tears well up in his eyes already. “How did you know?”
“I’ve known you long enough, Brex. You’re not that hard to read. You were sobbing when I came back to our chambers. You didn’t speak of why. You wanted to do something nice tonight. Something for both of us.” Alizarin heaved a sigh. “You told our story tonight. That’s when I knew.”
Brex sank deeper into his chair. “I’m sorry. I wish I could stay but—”
“But what?”
“I can’t say. Not exactly. Not yet. But I have to leave.”
“Is there anything I can do to convince you to stay? Perhaps I can cut back on the meetings, make you more of a priority in my life. I could appoint you the court sorcerer tomorrow and get you more tutors.”
Brex shook his head. “It’s…It’s out of my hands,” he said. “But even if it wasn’t, it still feels like what I need to do.”
“I’m so sorry, Brex,” Alizarin said. “I was afraid this would happen. I didn’t want to think it could, but that didn’t stop me. I thought if I could give you a life of luxury here, that would make you want to stay with me. But I wasn’t there. I was never really there for you. All I had were nights and mornings. We spent more time asleep together than awake.”
“I do want to stay with you,” Brex said. “It’s everything else that’s the problem. If you were anyone else in Sangara, I’d ask you to come with me.”
“But I’m Prince Alizarin, Son of King Crim, member of the royal family of the Felarin Pride-Tribes,” Alizarin said flatly. “I can’t just leave. Not after being gone so long.”
Brex kept quiet, nodding along.
Alizarin sniffled and wiped his hand along his nose. “Do we need to make arrangements for your departure?”
“No,” Brex said with a wince. “They’ve already been made. My ship departs tomorrow at noon.”
Alizarin let out a long exhale. “Tomorrow,” he said, choked up. “That explains so much.”
Silence hung in the air between them.
“Nothing I can do at all?” Alizarin asked.
“No, nothing I can do either,” Brex said.
“When will you be able to tell why?”
“I’m not sure. Soon, maybe. But not for a while.”
Brex reached out a hand to Alizarin, who took it in his own. They held each other’s fingers while looking up at the sky.
“Back in Goronich,” Alizarin said. “In the courtroom, I remember you say the words ‘stars and skies’ once or twice. Why was that?”
“It’s an orcish idiom,” Brex said. “Just a phrase you say when you’re frustrated or overwhelmed. Like you’re praying to your ancestors for guidance.”
“Your ancestors are the stars and skies?”
“They’re among them. Grandp—I mean, the chief, he told me that when we pass away, we end up in the night sky, looking down on our descendants to ensure their survival. That we’ll all work together to make sure there’s a future for everyone.”
“Do all orcs believe that? Or just your clan?” Alizarin asked.
“I don’t know,” Brex said. “I’ve never asked anyone outside of my clan.”
“Do you believe in it?”
“Maybe. Hard to say right now.”
“If you did, would you believe that felarin end up there too?”
Brex froze, considering it for a moment.
“I think I would.”
Alizarin traced a fingertip over Brex’s palm. “I think I’m fine with that. It’ll mean seeing you again someday, with confidence.”
“We’ll see each other before that,” Brex said. “I’m sure of it.”
“Yes, but there’s no assurance that life won’t keep us apart for some arbitrary reason or another. This way…This way I know we’ll meet again.” He turned and looked toward Brex, a tear falling over his cheek. “And we’ll have so many more stories to share with each other.”
Brex’s lip quivered and he leaned over to kiss Alizarin.
When, at last, they pulled their lips apart, the lights of the city were dimming so much they could barely see each other.
“Let’s go home, Brex,” Alizarin said.
Brex nodded.
One last time.
That night, after they returned to Castle Carmine, Brex and Alizarin slipped into bed immediately, holding each other and trying to stay awake as long as they could. Despite the circumstances, each of them had never felt closer to the other. They rarely kissed, choosing only to embrace until they could stay awake no longer.
Alizarin fell asleep first, but Brex still had a surge of energy left in him after the day’s events. When he was sure that Alizarin was truly asleep by the sound of his gentle snoring, Brex slipped out of bed and lit a candle.
He took out a pen, pressed it to a blank roll of parchment, and he began to write.
The morning of Brex’s departure, Alizarin treated him to the most luxurious breakfast in bed that he could have imagined. They ate toast and eggs and deliciously-cured meats while their words danced around anything relating to what would happen in a few hours.
No talk of ships, other nations, docks, traveling, or even saying goodbye. They both silently agreed that it was better to save such words until confronted with the visceral reality of leaving each other behind. In the morning, they were perfectly satisfied to trade jokes about their adventures and compliments for each other.
But every moment felt tinted with sorrow. Like looking through a pale blue lens, already wishing that they could treasure those moments a bit more before they ended.
And yet, the hours slipped past them. Brex found himself packing his bag with the few books that he’d collected on his journey, from collections of fiction to his most exciting textbooks. They took up the majority of the space in his bag and constituted the lion’s share of the weight.
Alizarin’s face kept stoic while an emptiness spread into his eyes. He kept asking Brex if there was anything he could do to help, but all Brex wanted was company. That didn’t seem like enough for the Prince to do, though, and he lost himself looking out the window at the docks, like Brex had done so many times before.
Brex paused as he closed his bag.
This would be their last moment in private together for a long time.
Maybe I should say something…
He watched Alizarin for a while, losing track of himself. He wondered, if Alizarin had walked into his life like this, as the prince of a nation so far from his home, would Brex have shown such kindness to him as he did? Would he have traveled with him, shared a bed with him, and protected him?
A prince doesn’t need companionship like that. This much was clear after his few weeks in Castle Carmine. Alizarin didn’t need any of that kindness.
But Red did. And Brex felt a sense of pride well up within him, being the helping hand for Alizarin when he needed it most.
Watching him then, his face lit with sunlight, Brex understood why Alizarin treasured him so much, even if he couldn’t make the time to be present in Brex’s life anymore.
Brex knew him. Better than anyone else. Maybe Brex didn’t know the finer details of his life. But Brex knew his heart.
“Something the matter?” Alizarin asked.
Brex snapped himself back to the moment. “Uh, no. Just got lost in thought about how handsome you are,” he lied.
Alizarin flashed an almost pained smile. “You’re incorrigible.”
Brex couldn’t help but agree as they began the journey down to the docks.
Castle Carmine’s hallways were bustling, but as Alizarin guided him down to the entrance, Brex didn’t see a trace of any of Alizarin’s family. Perhaps they viewed him with enough disdain to walk the other way before he could see. Or maybe they just didn’t consider him their problem anymore. It was even possible the only reason they ever met with him in the first place was at Alizarin’s insistence.
In the end, it didn’t matter. They washed their hands of him, and Brex was right to do the same. Better to look toward the promise ahead of him.
It was a bright, clear day in Sangara. The winds were as calm as the placid ocean. It would be a slow start to Brex’s passage back to Harramschall. That didn’t bother him so much, because it meant he could watch Sangara slip away from view until the moment it disappeared behind the horizon.
The docks were adequately busy, passengers and cargo being loaded freely. Alizarin and Brex came alone, with Alizarin wearing the drab clothes of a commoner or servant to hide his true identity. His face was not so well known that he could be easily spotted. Even as the dockhand confirmed Brex was on the itinerary for the next ship bound to Harramschall, Brex couldn’t help pulling Alizarin aside.
“You know, it doesn’t leave for another half hour,” Brex said. “And I never got to see the Shimadran Towers.”
Alizarin shrugged. “It’s a bit of a tourist attraction at this point. It’ll be packed with people.” He heaved a sigh, then curled his lips with a dash of hope. “You’ll have to see it next time you visit.”
Brex dared to hope along with him. “I suppose I will.”
“Do you have everything?” Alizarin asked.
Brex nodded.
“Then I suppose…”
“I have something for you,” Brex said, interrupting him. “A…a gift.”
“Brex, you didn’t need to get anything else for me,” Alizarin began.
“I did, though. It’s not just for you. It’s also a little bit for me, too.” Brex said while digging into his bag and pulling out an envelope that held a folded piece of paper and a ring designed to fit Alizarin’s finger.
Alizarin reached out and slipped his finger under the fold to open it.
“Wait,” Brex said. “Not yet. Wait until tonight, it…it explains why I had to leave. I wrote it last night while you were asleep.”
Alizarin was clearly having difficulty resisting the urge, eyes welling with tears as he looked back up to Brex.
“The ring inside, it’s…It’s a catalyst. I know that Red is a part of you, that he’s you deep down, stripped of all the titles and the names and the jewels and everything. But if there’s any time that you just want to be Red for a while…That’s how you can do it. I didn’t have time to test it, of course. So, maybe try it out with someone you trust the first time.” Brex swallowed back the urge to warn him of his family, but even then it felt too dangerous to speak it.
“And wait until you read the letter to try,” he said. “Trust me.”
“I do,” Alizarin said.
There was nothing sweet about the moment they shared together. What was a tint of sorrow had become a blot, surrounding and consuming the world as it existed outside of them.
“I have to go,” Brex said.
“I know,” Alizarin said.
Another pause, neither wanting to make the first movement toward the ship. Toward the plank that would take Brex to the main deck, to his passenger’s cabin, to Harramschall. Toward the thing that would take him away.
Alizarin reached out and hugged Brex, clutching the envelope in his hand while his arms squeezed the orc. It was simple instinct for Brex to hold him tight, hands slipping under Alizarin’s arms and cradling his back.
“I love you, Brexothuruk,” Alizarin whispered.
“I love you, too,” Brex replied.
He had never been surer of it.
They pulled back and saw that both of their attempts to keep their eyes dry had failed. And realizing it together, they laughed and wiped away each other’s tears.
“You are going to do great things,” Brex said. “I can feel it.”
“As are you,” Alizarin said. “Someday, I hope those great things include a reason to have our lives revolve around each other, if only for a little while.
“Thank you, Brex. For everything.”
“I would do it all again if I could,” Brex said.
They pulled each other into one last squeeze and finally let go.
Even as Brex climbed on board the ship, he took every opportunity to keep his eyes on the docks, on the felarin figure in a common cloak that stood at the end of the pier.
Even after the ship guided itself out of port.
Even as it picked up speed on the placid waters.
Even as that figure shrank to the size of a pinprick in the distance.
Brex stood at the stern of that ship until Sangara itself disappeared behind the horizon.
I advise that you burn this page after you finish reading it, as I am about to inflict you with a painful discovery, one that you would not want to spread to anyone else in Castle Carmine, but one that you deserve to know nonetheless.
On the night you were kidnapped, your family in its entirety betrayed you.
Your sister slipped you a sedative. Your brother distracted the guards and servants, then locked you inside. They all carried you through the castle. And your mother poured the sorcerous metal on your back that kept you in the shape of a wild animal. They smuggled you out of Sangara through the castle’s water lock, putting you on a ship heading to the other side of the world. If you don’t believe me, and I would understand if you didn’t, then I encourage you to examine the water lock’s landing, where you’ll find a remnant of sorcerous metal. The same spell that was on your back for so long.
They did this to you because they believed they could not afford a future where you were the King. But I think they were wrong.
And when I confronted them about it, they extorted me into silence. They paid for my education in Harramschall and put me on a ship headed there within a day. And in no uncertain terms, they told me if I sought any other option, I would not be safe in their home. Your home. What could have been our home.
Do not trust them. Be wary of their guidance. Follow your principles, not theirs. You are a wise leader. Trust your instincts over their words. Use this information as you see fit. It doesn’t matter to me what you do with it, whether you start an inquisition or simply keep it as leverage. I just think you deserve to know.
Someday, you will lead this nation, Alizarin. When you do, I implore you to think of people like Cecelia and Aubrey, like Karna and Tiv, like Elaina and Liam.
Like you and me.
One condition of this arrangement your family made for me was that I never speak of this to you. (Yet another reason to burn this page, I remind you.) It won’t matter in their eyes, but in a small way, it matters to me that I never truly broke this contract. I did not speak of this to you, but I did write of it.
After all, one good act of treason deserves another.
Goodbye, Prince Alizarin. I will always love you. And I am confident we will see each other again someday.
Orcanist 