Adventure

Battle. There is nothing like it.

“Monster! Big monster!” Crier cries.

“No kidding!” I shout at him, diving behind a boulder. My sword flies from my hand. “Get down, Crier!”

“No kidding, Shouter!”

“Who dares disturb my slumber?” the monster rumbles. Its huge, ragged form blocks the sunlight coming from the hole in the ceiling.

“Get a new catchphrase!” I say. I fumble around in the darkness for my sword. “Crap. Crier, do something!”

The room is briefly illuminated by a blue light, and I brave a glance over the boulder.

The monster gives a booming laugh that shakes the temple, and it brings its enormous, clawed fist down on my brother.

I duck back down. Crier will be fine. I go back to patting the mossy floor for my sword.

“Oh, Saint,” Crier groans.

The monster laughs again. “Silly humans.”

“I’m a mage, you insensitive—”

I find my sword. “Crier, shut up,” I say, standing up. Gripping the sword with both hands, I run out from behind the boulder and straight at the monster.

“Wait, wait,” it says. It puts out one of its hands, grips me around the middle, and lifts me up to its one, giant eye. “What is it you want, human girl?”

“The Prince’s crown,” I say. “You have it, don’t you?”

“Oh, this?” It lifts its other hand. On its little finger, it wears Prince Val’s diamond crown like a ring.

“That’s it,” I say.

“Well, then,” he says. He sets me down on the ground, removes the crown from his finger, and gives it to me. “There you go, human. Now, leave me alone.”

I sheathe my sword. I take off my pack, carefully tuck the crown into it, and put my pack back on. I look at Crier, who holds his left arm against his stomach. “Are you okay?”

“I think my arm’s broken.”

I go over to him and hold my hands out.

He lays his arm in my hands, wincing.

I gently squeeze along his arm until tears pop into his eyes. The break is near his wrist.

“Can’t you heal it?”

He shakes his head. “I can’t concentrate. It hurts too much.”

“Okay. Let’s get you back to the Kingdom.”

“Ah, horses,” the monster says behind us.

I turn to him. “What?”

“Horses in the pasture out back,” it says. “Did you not see them?”

“No, I didn’t. Do they belong to anyone?”

The monster shrugs its shoulders.

I turn back to my brother. “C’mon.”

Together, we go back the way we came and step out into the sunlight. We walk around the temple until we find the pasture the monster spoke of.

Five black horses are harnessed to a dark purple carriage. I don’t see anyone.

“Wait here,” I say to Crier. I approach the horses until they start stomping and snorting. “So, who do you belong to?”

“The Fairest King,” the horse in the very front replies, resting a red eye on me.

“Oh. Well.” I back away slowly. No one messes with the Fairest King, including an Adventurer like me. “Sorry to bother you.”

“Humph.”

I rejoin Crier. “Go, go, go.” I give him a push to the east, toward the general direction of the Diamond Kingdom.

“What’s the problem?” he asks as we walk.

“The Fairest King’s horses,” I tell him. I try to walk at a brisk pace, but Crier is dragging along at a snaillike pace.

“Oh, Saint,” he whispers. “What’s he doing this far east?”

“I don’t know. Just keep going.”

“Was he in the carriage?”

“I don’t know.”

“There wasn’t a driver, Shouter.”

“I know.”

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m a little scared.”

“Everything’s fine. Get ahold of yourself.”

“Sorry.”

We keep walking, and walking, and walking. Over an hour later, we find ourselves at the Grand Gate of the Diamond Kingdom.

“Who goes there?” a guard demands from the top of the Grand Gate.

“Shouter and Crier. The Prince is expecting us,” I say.

“Oh, hello. I’ll just bring up the Gate for you, then.”

The Grand Gate is lifted, and Crier and I pass through.

“Good day to you!” the guard says.

Crier and I walk down Main Street to the very end, where we meet another gate. This gate protects the Diamond Castle. Contrary to its name, the castle is not made of diamond; it is just accented by it. A gargoyle here, a griffin there, and doorknobs everywhere.

“Who goes there?” the Head Guard, Sir Lionel, says from atop the gate.

“Crier and Shouter. The Prince is expecting us,” I say again. “Also, we live here.”

“Shouter! Good to see you. Haven’t seen you ‘round in a few days? How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been just dandy. It’s my brother who’s been better.”

Lionel squints down at us through the faceplate of his helmet. “Is he hurt?”

“Yeah, he is.”

“I’ll let you in, then.”

The gate lifts, and I help Crier through and into the castle.

We are greeted by the Diamond King’s steward, Stewart.

“Good afternoon,” he says with a big, bright smile. “Have you got the Prince’s crown?”

“Yeah, yeah. We got the crown,” I say. “But, Crier’s hurt.”

“Oh, no. What’s wrong?”

“The monster who stole the crown broke Crier’s arm,” I tell him.

“Oh, no,” he repeats, frowning. “I’ll get Crier to the healers. You bring the crown to the Prince.”

I look at Crier. “I’ll see you in the infirmary.”

He nods, and Stewart leads him away.

I head up the grand staircase and walk through the halls until I come to Prince Val’s chambers. I knock on the door.

Prince Val’s rather annoying steward, Joseph, opens the door.

“Shouter,” he says, “do you have the crown?”

So polite.

“Um, yeah,” I say. I pull the crown from my pack and hold it up.

Joseph reaches for it, but I pull it back. “I’d rather give it to him myself, if you don’t mind.”

He cut his eyes at me, but moves aside.

I step into the lavish sitting room.

Prince Val is sitting on the plush sofa, reading something and taking notes. He looks over his spectacles at me as I enter. He marks his page and puts his book and notepad down on the coffee table. His handsome face splits in a beautiful grin as he stands.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he says. “I wanted to show you something.”

“Um, your crown, Your Highness,” I say, handing it to him.

“Oh, I don’t care about that thing.” He takes it and tosses it carelessly onto the sofa. “Come with me to the garden.”

I wasted three days searching for that crown.

“Okay.”

“I’ll be back soon, Joseph.”

Joseph gives me a nasty look, but he nods. “Be careful, Your Highness.”

Prince Val rolls his eyes. “Come on, Shouter.”

He reaches for my hand; I have no choice but to put my dirty, calloused hand into his clean, soft one. He leads me deeper into his chambers and down the spiral staircase in his bedroom. At the bottom of the stairs, we are in a small room with a glass door that opens into the garden.

Prince Val opens the door, and we go outside.

I have always loved the castle garden. I’ve heard stories telling of how it had once been barren, but the court mages made the plants and flowers grow. Hedges are molded into fantastic animals by magic at the start of every month because Prince Val gets bored with them. At the moment, the hedges are shaped into gargantuan rabbits.

“I started training with Arthur right after you left,” Prince Val says, leading me through the garden to the very edge. Arthur is the Head Mage who gives amateur mages lessons, usually for a hefty price. The Prince, however, gets those lessons for free.

The very edge of the garden is a cliff that hangs over the ocean. A diamond railing rings the edge to prevent people falling off.

“Training? Really? Your father doesn’t mind?” I asks.

The King isn’t a big fan of magic, but there is no denying the Prince’s magical blood that he inherited from his mother.

Prince Val hesitates. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He pauses. “Also, you and Arthur are the only ones who know, so please don’t go about telling everyone.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

He looks back at me, smiling.

We reach the diamond railing.

“Here,” Prince Val says. He lets go of my hand and kneels in the grass. He gestures for me to do the same.

I kneel down beside him.

Before him, a tiny red flower blooms in the grass. Its petals are smaller than the nail on my little finger. I can smell its sweet scent from a foot away.

Prince Val cups his hand over the flower. A soft golden glow comes from between his fingers. When he takes his hand back, the flower has grown slightly.

“I’m still training, so…,” he says. “What do you think?”

“It’s really nice,” I say.

“Thank you.” He is still smiling. Sometimes, I think he smiles too much. “Did you have any trouble getting my crown back?”

“I didn’t, but Crier did.”

“What happened?”

“The thing—whatever that thing was—that took it slammed its hand down on Crier and broke his arm.”

“That’s horrible! Is he alright?”

“Stewart brought him to the infirmary when we got here,” I say. I get to my feet, step over Prince Val’s flower, and lean against the railing. I look out over the ocean. “I have some bad news, though.”

“You mean, worse than the news that Crier is injured?”

“Way worse.”

Prince Val comes to stand next to me. He towers over me. “What is it, Shouter?”

“I think the Fairest King is close to the Kingdom.”

“What?”

“The temple we found the crown in,” I say. “There was a carriage outside of it, and the horses attached to the carriage told me it belonged to the Fairest King.”

“That is way worse,” Prince Val mumbles. Then, he speaks up. “I’ll have Joseph let my father know. In the meantime, I’d like to offer you this as thanks for finding my crown, even though I could not have cared less about it.” He reaches into the pocket of his trousers and brings out a blue velvet pouch; it jingles with coins. He puts it into the palm of my hand.

“I don’t think—”

“Don’t,” he chuckles. “Just put it in your pocket and forget about it, okay?”

I do as he says.

“Oh, there’s something else,” he says. “There’s a party next week, and I’d like you—and Crier—to come as my guests.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“My twenty-first birthday.”

“Oh. Oh! Right. Sorry. I forgot.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “So, would you like to go?”

“Do I have to wear a dress?”

“Yes.”

“Um.”

“I’m kidding, Shouter.”

“Oh.” I give a nervous laugh and start fiddling with the strip of leather I always wear around my right wrist. Stupid Shouter.

“You know that dress uniform my father gave to you when you and Crier first started working for him?”

“Yeah.” The uniform is somewhere at the bottom of the trunk at the foot of my bed down in the servants quarters.

“Wear that.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

“I’ll think about it.”

He laughs. “Good, good,” he says. “I should probably get back to Joseph, and you should get back to your brother.”

“Thank you for the, uh…” I pat the pocket that holds the pouch of coins.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, turning toward the castle. “See you later.” He starts back through the garden.

“Alright, Your Highness.”

He stops and turns back to me. He shakes his head. “I think we’re past the point of ‘Your Highness’ and ‘sir,’ don’t you?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, a little shocked.

“Just call me Val from now on. I mean, when it’s just you and me.”

My eyes widen. “Are you sure?”

He stares at me with his big, pretty green eyes, laughs, and walks back to the castle. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

I have to call him Val from now on. That is going to take some time getting used to.

Having nothing else to take care of at the moment, I go to go see how Crier is doing.

He is sleeping in one of the infirmary beds. His wrist is in a splint, which is in a white, linen sling.

The Head Healer, an old, kind woman named Nina, quietly explains to me she healed most of the break in Crier’s wrist herself, but he will have to keep his wrist in a sling until it heals completely.

This means no questing for him for at least three weeks.

After this news, I go to check on our mother in her private room.
Crier and I quest for the King because our mother is constantly ill, and we have no way to care for her. I am only nineteen, and Crier is seventeen; we can’t get normal full-time jobs, because we lack experience in just about everything. Even if we did, we still wouldn’t be able to make enough money to pay for our mother’s care.
So, we eventually got an audience with the King, and he gave us a room to ourselves and medical care for our mother in exchange for running personal errands for the King, the Queen, and the Prince.

Mom is sleeping peacefully in her bed. Her purple eyelids are closed, and her lips match those eyelids in color. Her skin is ashen with a film of sweat.

I touch her hand, and her eyes open a little. She smiles weakly at me.

“Erica,” she says, calling me by the name she had given me. She slowly flips her hand over and squeezes my fingers. “How did the… quest go?”

“It went fine,” I tell her. I leave out the part about how her son broke a bone and is sleeping not even twenty feet away from her. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m… good,” she says. Her eyes start to close, and she lets go of my hand. I’ve exhausted her.

“That’s good, Mom,” I murmur. “Get some rest. I’ll come see you later.”

“Okay, honey.”

I leave her room, and Nina comes over to me with a plate of cookies.

She gives me a warm smile, pats me on the shoulder, and hands me the plate. “You take these, eat ‘em, and take a nap.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say.

I go to the room I share with Crier, remove my leather armor, devour the freshly-baked cookies, and fall asleep.