Belvedor and the Four Corners (Belvedor Saga Book 1) (24 page)

Hurrying along, Kryone noticed the castle to be busier than usual. Glancing inside the rooms as they passed through the long corridor he saw the kitchens where servants prepared for a feast. Some used their hands while others used their magic to do the cooking. Frosting churned in the air as a plump lady charmed the icing onto a huge cake.

He stole a look inside the throne room, finding no one but the guards who always stood inside securing the chamber. He looked up and saw himself surrounded by the black, granite flooring, his image reflecting in the grand, mirrored-ceiling which created a dome of glass above the chamber. He grimaced, gazing at his reflection for only a moment before he tore his eyes away from the lonely boy trapped forever behind a barrier of ornate glass. They continued on but paused as a young lady of the castle called from her room.

Kyrone poked his head in. “Sister, join us for a walk before dinner?”

She sat upon a tall bed hung with lavender curtains, shaking her head. He chuckled as he watched her fail at charming a pile of feathers from another mutilated pillow into the air. Kyrone closed his eyes and let a deep breath of air blow from his mouth. The girl squealed in delight as the feathers rose into a twister around her bed.

“Keep practicing, Elisa,” he said, stepping out of her room and shutting the door.

Bumping into a dwarf who carried fine weaponry at his back, Kyrone said a slight apology. The dwarf saluted his hand, readjusted his pile, and exchanged a few words with the King before continuing on.

Before long, the three royals reached a wide, double-door made of polished redwood at the end of the corridor. Two servants on either side pulled its large, silver rungs and bowed as the door swung open. A rush of warm air spilled into the hallway, and they stepped back into the open sun. This side of the castle opened up towards a lavished yard filled with marble fountains and statues of lovers, friends, and the gods and goddesses who ruled the sky and sea.

Kyrone sniffed at the air, and the scent of roses filled his nose as he scanned the area. His eyes followed a pebbled path which slithered through the grass towards a forest, creating a framework to the wonderland before him. He stared toward the woodland, entranced by the fairy dust weaving in-and-out through the maroon-leafed trees. He shook his head. Never stare too long after fairies. He knew better than that.

Snapping out of his reverie, they continued to walk along the path, stopping only for a moment to observe the King’s horses galloping in a large, penned meadow. It overflowed with tall grasses, and pastel wildflowers opened up towards the sun. The air tasted clean as Kyrone took a deep breath, savoring the day.

“Your Grace, this has just arrived from the Kingdom of Nicora.” A smartly attired servant handed the King a rolled parchment. The King smiled in thanks, and the servant bowed, taking leave. 

Taking a moment to read the letter, the King scratched at the graying hair under his glittering crown. The jewels sparkled like a kaleidoscope of stars as they caught the light.

Suddenly, the King clapped his hands together, and an array of butterflies took flight at the disturbance, leaving the painted bushes green. “Ah, very good! Very good indeed,” he said as his eyes lit up from the news. “A celebration is due, my sons!” He slapped Kyrone on the back and laid his heavy arms across their shoulders.

The embrace felt too warm as his heavy cape draped around them as well. To match the King’s splendor, the gold fabric splashed with a swirl of color on the inside, making the boys’ linen slacks look like rags. It clashed on Kyrone’s pale skin, but the cloth felt smooth on his bare chest.

“Father, what are we to celebrate?” asked Neas. He raised an eyebrow at the King, nuzzling his body against his father.

Kyrone stared, waiting, watching as Neas pried for information. His strawberry-blonde locks hung in waves to his chin, and his eyes looked the same cerulean as his father’s. His lips twitched into a sad smile. Whose eyes did he have? He would never know.

They strolled through the courtyard, impatient to hear the good news.

“Well, you asked how I fared on my journey,” said the King, his expression ecstatic. “I would say quite well! In fact, I have a surprise for you both.” He squeezed them even tighter against his chest.

The two cousins exchanged looks, finding it difficult to contain their excitement.

“Well…?” asked Kyrone, his dark eyes glowing.

The King sang, “If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?”

As the sun began to fall behind the clouds, a shadow grew over the yard, and the King began to drag them back to the castle, declaring the feast ready. Stepping into an enormous room, both wide and tall, a hundred decorated tables lined the walls, and the delicious scent of baked bread stitched in the air. People clambered around the tables, chatting about their day. Dressed in their finest robes, everyone discussed news of their children off to magic school or another sailor lost at sea. Kyrone noticed it to be a rather large crowd, the whole town maybe… but why?

The people rose to their feet as the King and the two lords came into view. Kyrone beamed, never taking these moments for granted as all eyes glued on him and his family. They walked towards a raised platform where other lords and ladies seated. Kyrone even saw Elisa giggling at the table as some boy whispered in her ear from behind. Everyone applauded him… the King, and he returned a graceful smile.

King Damas lifted his hand in silence, and the crowd hushed. His people bowed low and long as he gestured for the boys to stand close by his side.

“Citizens of Saindora,” he said, “Thank you for joining me this night. I am truly glad to see all of your faces.”

The crowd cheered.

He continued, “As you well know, we hold this feast in honor of my sons.”

Kyrone beamed at this mention. He truly did love the King. Neas patted him on the back.

“They’ve just celebrated their fifteenth birthdays, so I have fetched them a little surprise,” he said.

Kyrone and Neas fidgeted as their interest peeked, whispering their delightful predictions.

“May I present, Master Lethander of the Nicoran Elven Clan,” said the King. He held his arm out wide and gestured to the table at his back.

The boys spun around in disbelief as a tall elf paced forward. Kyrone knew elves to be quite uncommon in these parts, so this was truly a sight. Known for their knowledge of old magic, they felt more comfortable in their own seclusion. Still, their wisdom and past endeavors earned the creatures much respect in Olleb-Yelfra, and Kyrone couldn’t take his eyes off Lethander.

He observed the elf, gaping all the while. The elegant creature looked pale, but not sickly as he thought of himself, and his bluish-white hair grew long over his shoulders. He stood bare-chested, wearing only a thin, green cloak and white leggings. Long chains of silver draped down his neck, and he held a white staff crafted of wood. He bowed to the King and nodded to the boys.

The King and the young lords returned his gesture before Neas turned to his father.

“Will he stay for long, father?” said Neas, hope thick in his voice. The King nodded, pulling the boys closer.

“My young lords, I’m proud to say that he shall be your new master!”

His voice echoed off the walls of the feast-hall, and Kyrone’s knees went weak as the crowd applauded, everyone thrilled to welcome an elf to Saindora.

“This is a great honor, indeed,” said the King. “Elves truly respect the nature of magic, and soon so shall you.” 

The King gestured for everyone to be seated, and a cheerful symphony started in a balcony overhead. Kyrone looked up to see a flute played by hand while other musicians charmed their instruments into song. Hundreds of servants appeared with silver trays laden with turkey, pork, bread, fruits, potatoes, and more. Children ran in-between tables, whispering secrets and showing off their new charms while couples began to drift onto the dance floor in a whirl of passion. Wine was served in goblets of blue-silver, and everyone enjoyed a slice of cake with the charmed icing on the top.

The glass-topped chamber was lit with floating lanterns as night fell, and the party livened on. Kyrone looked towards the sky, hopeful for the future. He tugged at Neas to join him, and they watched as a fiery-scaled dragon flew overhead. Disappearing in a burst of golden flames, the dragon took shelter under the protection of the clouded sky, and the boys returned to the feast.

Words escaped Lessa as Arianna paused to process all the information. Exhilaration gripped them both as a secret history of the Olleb unraveled before their eyes. The knowledge made Arianna’s head spin.
This is so forbidden.
Adrenaline pumped through her veins, but the thrill of it all made her itch for more answers.

Lessa grabbed the scroll from her hands, impatient with her stalling. She recited the script from where Arianna left off, and the girls became captivated once more by the story:

Master Lethander extended a rare honor to the young lords. He was fond of the King and offered the apprenticeship as a favor. The boys came from long magical bloodlines as did many in the Olleb, and he saw potential. Only a notable few ever honed their abilities to reach mastery levels, but the young lords grew powerful as Lethander molded their talents and their minds.

Lethander pushed the boys to train hard, but most of his praise went to Prince Neas. Kyrone grew envious of his cousin with
each turning sun, and one day he committed a horrific act of treason. Neas quickly surpassed Kyrone in the art of magic, but he proved inferior in swordsmanship. Out of a jealous rage, Kyrone murdered his cousin during a practice duel of swords.

Lord Kyrone realized the consequence of such a horrendous act and tried to dispose of his cousin’s body in the woodland behind the castle. As he came towards the concealment of the trees, Lethander appeared, and the noble elf attempted to heal the young prince with his magic.

In a fit of panic, Kyrone plunged his sword into the elf’s back, taking him off-guard as he attended to Neas. Fearing execution, Kyrone left the bodies at the edge of the woodland and retold the history of events to the King, placing the blame on Lethander.

He claimed Lethander murdered Prince Neas during instruction and, in an attempt to avenge his cousin, Kyrone slayed the elf. The King went mad with grief at his fallen son and deemed the Nicoran Elven Clan responsible.

Within weeks, the King’s armies and sorcerers slaughtered them all. A few months later, the suspicious death of the King was mourned by the City of Saindora. The counsel crowned Kyrone Devlindor at the age of eighteen as per the
last will and testament of King Damas, and thus began Olleb-Yelfra’s fall into the Dark Ages.

King Devlindor became a persuasive tyrant. He convinced the people of Saindora the death of their beloved King and prince were due to the uncontrollable magic residing within the Olleb. In order to carry out the King’s legacy, he sent crusades to contain all of the magic within the boundaries of the castle for proper usage. The people fed on his promises and ideals. Those who did not, died.

With access to so much power and knowledge, the King grew arrogant and controlling. He stretched his reach far outside the boundaries of the city. Only a few years passed before he proclaimed himself High King of Olleb-Yelfra. He extended the ban on magic to all corners of the land, though he ruled with dark magic and necromancers at his side. Thus, the Olleb burned under his control.

He banned knowledge and stories of the Golden Age. Even to speak of the time proved a punishable act. The history of
dwarves, elves, pixies, mermaids, and wizards all vanished from memory. Dragons and avatars fell to myth.

He hoarded spell books and scrolls and burned any trace of magic schools or libraries. Even histories of old kings and queens quickly disappeared from tongue. In an effort to cleanse the land of evil, he exterminated all with
a magical bloodline, animal and human alike. Thus, stories depicting a Golden Age faded into fiction.

Of all of the King’s outrageous wars against natural order, his most infamous accomplishment named the creation of the City of the Four Corners. He created the city to encumber a prophecy foretold by a seer enslaved to the castle.

With her binding blood, the prophecy was written and locked away in the darkest labyrinths of the castle to be seen only by the eyes of those it avowed. It is said that when or if the prophecy is fulfilled, thus would follow the true death of the King and the freedom of Olleb-Yelfra.

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