Magpye
Here is one of my original stories, one I am rather proud of. It isn’t yet compete, but it is one I have every intention of finishing, and with a little luck getting published. The spelling and grammar might be a little off, but this is only technically the first draft. (If this is being read by future generations of my family and your all wondering what the hell happened to this story, I’m pretty sure it’s hidden amongst my USB drives, or my verrrrrrry old laptop, complete with full plot and characters if I haven’t finished it.)
Chapter 1
In an inn that was hidden between two larger buildings, that seemed to tower over it like spectres over a cowering child. In a city that was filled with such mismatched building’s, sat a man, tall, with a regal bearing though he dressed in the simple clothes of a travelling warrior. Those that saw him thought him to be an ex-member of some royal guard, possibly a knight, or a general. They were not entirely far wrong with either of these assumptions. In a land where royal kingdom after royal kingdom was overthrown, replaced and rebelled against numerous time’s, seeing an out of luck ex-royal guard or general whose loyalty to their original ruler made it impossible for them to work for anyone else, was not an uncommon sight. However, the man in question, was not all he appeared to be.
His name was Oriin (pronounced Or-E-in) deLeur, a name not heard in fifteen years in the seven Kingdoms, the name of the young prince forced into exile at the age of fifteen when his parents, the King and Queen of the Kingdom of deLeur, had been brutally murdered by a man they had once trusted. Finding him no threat the man had allowed Oriin to live, dumping him outside the kingdom’s bounds with a threat not to return or he would die.
Oriin vowed to make the man regret ever letting him live.
He had spent all those years coming up with some kind of plan to take back his family home. Travelling from place to place in search of something that could help him. Finally he had found a clue to what he had been seeking. A gypsy fortune teller had pulled him aside in the market of this very city, pulled him right off the street and into a small ally between the buildings. Had it not been a woman he would have killed the fortune teller instantly. But he had been raised better than that, a woman was a woman, and must be treated with respect despite her station, to behave otherwise was to call shame upon your own head. So he had allowed her to pull him into the ally and waited with great patience on his part as she had begun to tell him his fortune.
“The thing you seek lie’s deep in the desert that remains lush with life and beauty.”
That had gained his attention, no one knew he was seeking anything, he kept his plans to himself, anyone could go to his old kingdom and warn the king of his plans. He was not one to readily believe the fortune teller, but he knew some of what they did say was true, for some did indeed have the ability to see the future, some could point you in the direction of your deepest desire.
“The desert?” he had replied, sounding disinterested.
The woman had smiled at him, her face crinkling, he couldn’t tell if she looked older or younger when she smiled. “The desert.” she affirmed. “Hidden away from prying eyes, sealed from those who would use it for wrong. But it bear’s your mark, and so you must go find it. It has been calling you for many years now, has it not?”
He didn’t like the knowing look she had bestowed upon him, so he didn’t reply, merely frowned, as if thinking. “You expect me to go wandering the desert in search of something you claim is calling me, with no clear direction to go in. I’d be dead within a week.”
“Ah, but you already know what way to go.” she told him.
Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, Oriin had looked at her, an eyebrow raised in silent question.
“But you need be warned,” she continued after a moment.
He should have known, there was always some kind of hardship to overcome in fortunes, because people liked to know that there was some kind of bad thing to happen.
“That which you seek cannot be unlocked without magic.”
And that had been that, she had left, leaving him looking after her in some confusion. Magic? Magic did not exist. It had died out thousands of years ago, of course there had been stories of a child with some magical abilities being born every so often, but there was never anything else heard about them. Magic was a myth, a rumour. And apparently something he required if he was to find what he sought. Which meant he must disregard the fortune tellers story completely.
But that left him at square one, without a solid plan, without an army, and without that thing that hovered on the edge of his thoughts, always just out of reach. Like a dream he just couldn’t recall. But it hardly mattered anymore, because magic did not exist. He just had to come up with a plan. Which to all intents and purposes was much easier said than done.
Toying with his now empty mug he considered his options, the few he had. After a long moment he set the mug down, determination in his eyes, he would go out and find himself a woman of the night. Hardly the most productive thing to do he supposed, given the circumstances, but his kingdom had waited fifteen years for him to liberate it, it could wait another night while he indulged himself a little. And after he had successfully distracted himself from the Gypsy woman’s words he could begin to plan anew.
~*~
The city night was hardly calm. The doors of taverns were flung outwards as fights began, mostly between those loyal to their kingdoms fighting for the honour of their fallen kings, or between two men who both had eyes on the same barmaid. None it bothered Oriin as he moved past them, keeping an eye out for any woman that looking both willing, and capable of the demands he would set upon her. He let a few gold coins drop into a bowl that sat in front of a young child, whether it was a girl or boy he was unable to determine, but they looked too young to be out here at night, he hoped that those few coins would be enough to send the child back home.
It was by complete accident that he saw what he did. It was a mere glance down an alleyway as he was passing, but what he had glimpsed made him pause and look more closely once it had registered in his mind. In the shadows of the alley he could see two men, bulky and burley and obviously drunk, who seemed to be trying to rob a smaller person, who looked to be dressed in rather finely made, if somewhat tatty clothes.
Though Oriin did not like to become involved in disputes between drunks and those with money, the odds were bad for the smaller person, and as much as he would prefer to move on and leave them to it, his honour, what little he still felt he possessed, would not allow it. His hand rested on the hilt of his great sword ready to draw it at a moment’s notice should it be required. But before his eyes the odds changed.
He did not hear the words spoken, but the smaller person did speak, and from the shadows behind him, where nothing of such great size could have stayed hidden, stalked a large black cat, shaped like the sand Tigers that roamed the desert, but it’s fur as dark as the shadows around it, and it’s eyes gleaming red. The two drunks obviously realised the danger they were in, because they turned and fled. Oriin moved out of the way, allowing them to pass, before stepping back so he could see. His interest piqued.
As he watched, the person, who had not seemed to realise he was there, stepped over to the great cat, reaching out to stroke it’s ears, and it vanished, a rumbling purr the only thing left in it’s wake.
Oriin stared, unable, for a split second to process just what he had seen. But then realisation spread through him like a fire, and it pushed him forward into action. In three long strides he was beside the smaller person, who looked up at him startled, with a face that could not have been older than twelve or thirteen at most, but with an obvious naivety that made it look younger. He reached out and caught the child’s arm, tightening his grip just slightly as the child tried to pull away.
“You can do magic.” he said, the words coming out harshly. Could he really be this lucky?
The child looked at him, confusion spreading across the young features. “Tahw--?” his words cut off when Oriin covered his mouth, unsure just what the thing was the child had called up earlier, and not wishing to meet it himself. It had been no ordinary cat, that was for certain.
“No calling your pet.” he said sternly, his eyes narrowing, growing irritated when the child did not seem to understand. He pulled his hand from the mouth and turned, pulling the child with him. This was not a conversation he wished to have in an alleyway. Much to his surprise the child trotted after him, stumbling a little as Oriin’s strides were longer than his. But Oriin did not slow down, and did not stop, until he was back in his own room at the Inn.
~*~
It was hardly the best of rooms, but it had a bed, and a table with a jug of water and a bowl for washing and drinking, a lantern, and a chamber pot under the bed, which was really all he needed. So the general look of the room did not phase him, even though he did have a rather unexpected guest. He shut the door with a snap and pushed the deadbolt across, not wanting the child to leave until he had confirmation that what he had seen was magic. He released the child, lighting the candle lantern on the table before turning back.
The child glanced round the room, before looking back at him in confusion, reaching up to push back a brightly coloured head scarf from his head to fall down his back, caught by a clasp that bound the two ends at his neck, for a him it truly was, now that Oriin could make out his features clearly. But something else had captured Oriin’s attention, something else that he would assume confirmed his suspicion that the boy knew magic. Even though he was sure Magic no longer existed. The boy’s hair was blue, and if that was not strange enough, he also possessed strange ears (at least Oriin thought they were ears) that were rather like a cats, or a dogs, a darker shade of blue.
Oriin’s eyes narrowed as he tried to place these irregularities, but as he very rarely ventured outside the Seven Kingdoms, he could not say if this was a common feature of some other race.
The boy reached back to pull his scarf back over his head, covering the hair and ears with a few quick twists, and backing away a few steps, eyes remaining glued to Oriin’s face. “Yhw did uoy ekat em ereh?” the words were quiet, the accent strange and thick, and the words incomprehensible to Oriin, whose eyes narrowed further into a glare, unsure whether the boy was playing games with him, but the confusion seemed too real, the way he fidgeted with the fabric of the scarf, rolling it between thin fingers nervously. Oriin softened his gaze a little, reminding himself that this was a child, though he looked like a teenager, he was just too innocent seeming to be anything more than a child.
“Can you understand a word I’m saying?” he asked, waiting for the reaction.
The boy frowned at him, eyes flicked between his lips and his eyes as he spoke. “I tnod wonk… tahw od uoy tnaw htiw em?”
Oriin sighed. “Well, this is wonderful. I find a clue to getting this ’Thing I seek’ and he turns out to be a child who can’t understand me.” he fell silent, studying the boy for a long moment, taking him in, in the light of the lantern.
He was indeed dressed in finely made clothes, not well suited to the desert, made from heavy material, richly embroidered. It had once been colourful, though much of it had faded now. They were not the kinds of clothes one would wear while travelling, and yet from the state they were in, that is exactly what Oriin guessed the boy had been doing. Which begged the question, why was the boy, obviously of some rich family, in an alley in a city that was obviously far from his home?
“I’m not going to get much of an answer out of you am I?” he asked, more to himself than the boy, but he had decided, if the boy was already on the road for whatever reason, and did seem to possess magic, which was a likely conclusion given what he had seen so far, then it wouldn’t hurt to take him into the desert to try and find this… whatever it was he was seeking.
His mind made up, Oriin went to his pack, and pulled out his bedroll. He couldn’t afford to let his only clue so far to getting his kingdom back slip straight through his fingers. The boy was staying here tonight. Besides the streets weren’t safe at night for children. Laying the bedroll on the floor, and spreading the blanket on top he looked at the boy, who was still watching him carefully, still confused.
“I am Oriin deLeur.” he said shortly, hoping his meaning would get through and he would end up with a name to call the boy.
The boys face brightened suddenly, as if he had actually understood, and a grin spread. “Or-in.” he repeated, lilting the name, almost singsong but not quite, the accent mangling his name.
Oriin winched at the sound of his name. “No, Or-E-in.” he repeated slowly.
The grin never faded. “Or-in.” he repeated, and pointed to himself, a flicker of hesitance there and gone in a flash. “Kahzeh.”
“Ka(y)ze?” Oriin repeated the sound he heard, rather deliberately mispronouncing it.
The boy, Kaze, smiled happily and nodded, seemingly quite content with whatever version of his name was used.
Not willing to argue about it Oriin stood and pointed to the bedroll and blanket. “Sleep.” He pulled back the blanket on the bed, un-belting the sword from his waist and sitting the weapon so that it leaned against the wall near the head of the bed, close to hand should he need it, though sleep was the furthest point from his thoughts for this night. Removing anything that would make his rest uncomfortable and setting them on the table he sat on the bed, propped up against the wall at the head of the bed, watching the boy.
Glancing to the door, and noting how Oriin tensed minutely (or so Oriin guessed) the boy seemed to resign himself to staying the night. He pulled the bedroll and blanket to the far side of the room, arranging them oddly, almost like he was making himself a nest, before seating himself cross-legged in the middle and raising his eyes to meet Oriin’s.
Oriin frowned slightly and sighed, forcing himself to keep his silence. Knowing there would be no point trying to get anything out of the boy. But that in turn made him frustrated. He knew what he had seen, but he didn’t know for sure it was magic. His mind drifted to what the old fortune teller had told him, that what he sought lay in the desert, lush with life. His eyes narrowed in thought. The only places he knew of in the desert that were ‘lush with life’ were the small area’s around the little oasis’s. He almost growled as a thought occurred to him. Technically the Seven Kingdoms were Lush with Life, as they each claimed part of the land around the great oasis, each kingdom green and full of life.
For all he knew what he sought could be right here. He had spent fifteen years searching. In between attempts to regain his throne, each one damned to ruin because there was just something missing. He just didn’t know what. Biting back a sigh he glared at the wall, eyes narrowed as he thought.
“Thaw era uoy gnikool ta?”
the child’s voice startled him out of his thoughts, and his eyes shifted sideways to glance at him, the head scarf had been pulled down around his neck again, and the finely made jacket was removed, the silk shirt underneath was less faded, but it showed, in that way that silk clings to the body, that the child was thin, probably too thin, and despite the fine clothes he didn’t look like he had any money on him at all.
“Or-in!”
Winching at his mangled name Oriin frowned across the room. “What?”
Kaze was watching him carefully, before nodding slowly to himself, and burrowed his way into the mess of bedroll and blankets he had made on the floor. Oriin watched him, surprised when he heard the soft snores a few minutes later, and tried to think if he had ever been that trusting.
Leaving the child to sleep he turned his thoughts to the problems presented to him now.
~*~
The following morning dawned bright and early, and Oriin awoke with both a start and a crick in his neck, having had dozed off while sitting up thinking. With a groan he rubbed it, and swung his legs off the bed, casting his eyes to the nest of blankets on the floor at the other side of the room, they stirred minutely, but that didn’t tell him if the boy was awake or asleep. Standing he stretched the kinks out of his back, and checked his few belongings, not willing to put it past the boy to have taken something while he slept. Much to his surprise though he found nothing missing, not even a coin from his money bag.
He glanced back over towards the boy, to find him sitting up, the headscarf wrapped securely round his head. He could move silently, very silently. He would need to keep a watch on that. “Breakfast.” he announced, drawing the boys attention to him. He received a puzzled frown, but the boy stood, pulling on his tattered jacket, and set about folding up the bedroll. Oriin watched him for a moment before making his way to the door, unbolting it and pulling it open.
The boy seemed to understand the silent instruction, and slipped out the door, Oriin closed the door behind him as he too left the room, a hand on the boys shoulder to steer him down the stairs and to a table in the main part of the inn. He recognised the girl from the past few mornings he had spent here, she always did breakfast here. He waved her over, and ignoring the puzzled look she gave him, he ordered a second meal for Kaze. He was known enough that she knew he didn’t sit with anyone, and he most assuredly did not buy food or drink for anyone else. He had heard the girls whispering about it when they crossed paths at the beginnings and ends of their shifts. He never was sure if he should be disturbed or flattered that they seemed to find him attractive and interesting enough to remember in such detail.
On most days he settled on disturbed.
He mulled over his plans for the day, answering a question he couldn’t understand but assumed meant “What is this?” when the food arrived, with a well placed glare, before returning his thoughts to more important things. Like the supplies he would need to get for a prolonged stay in the desert.
Shopping for supplies proved easier than he had thought it would, he had been expecting to have to keep a close eye on Kaze to make sure he didn’t run off, he couldn’t afford for his only clue to run off. Instead he found that Kaze actually followed him rather closely, which surprised him, and worried him. What kind of child followed around a man they barely knew? But never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, having received so little in the past, he purchased supplies, a second bedroll and blanket, and some rather nondescript clothes for the boy so he didn’t stand out so much.
Kaze chattered like a monkey beside him as he made his way through the market, and though the words were unrecognisable, the general meaning was conveyed easily enough by gestures and pointing, and Oriin found himself telling the boy what the things were as they passed.
His afternoon was spent haggling over some desert horses, it was the one part of gathering supplies he most hated, haggling. Why things just couldn’t be a set price was beyond his comprehension. Returning to the inn for some dinner, and to pay his due’s, Oriin contemplated a way to get the boy to agree to come along willingly. Their language barrier was going to be something of a problem, but one that could be overcome easily enough while travelling. After all there was nothing that pointing or gesturing could not get across while they were on the road. It was just the explanation as to why they would have to be on the road that would prove a problem.
Kaze sat across from him, eating and talking, completely unperturbed by the fact that Oriin could not understand him.
“You look like you could use a translator.”
Oriin glanced up, his glare ever present as he looked at the person who had interrupted his thoughts. It was a woman, of that there was little doubt, though her face was shrouded in the shadow of her hood, and her voice somewhat deeper that he was used to, but he was positive it was indeed female. “And who might I inquire, presumes to ask?” politeness requiring he did not ignore her. He frowned as she pulled out a chair and sat, setting her mug of ale in front of her.
She pushed back her hood, revealing a face that was not un-pretty, but was not dazzling. Green eyes sparkling merrily in the dancing flames of the candles. “Kirra.” she introduced herself, smiling at him, her eyes sliding over to glance at Kaze as well.
Only now noticing the sudden silence from the other side of the table Oriin also glanced across, to find that Kaze had stopped eating and was watching the woman with a contemplative look that seemed too old on his face. Looking back to the woman Oriin nodded in acknowledgement to her introduction. “I am Oriin, and this is Kaze.” he nodded to the boy, taverns were not a place for last names.
Kirra smiled at him. “Well, like I said. You seem in need of a translator. I happen to possess some knowledge of the language the little one speaks, which I think might be helpful to you.”
Oriin bit back the snort of disbelief at her words. Surely she did not expect him to fall for such an obvious ploy for money. “And what would be in it for you?” he asked her.
An amused look crossed her face. “Nothing.”
“Hmm.” was Oriin’s only reply to that.
She turned to Kaze rather abruptly. “Yhw era uoy htiw siht nam?” she asked, her voice lilting into the same accent as the boys, though less pronounced.
Kaze looked startled for a moment, frowning suspiciously, which surprised Oriin. “I evah ym snosaer. Yhw did uoy reffo ot kaeps htiw em?”
She smiled. “Uoy nac dnatsrednu nommoc neht?”
Kaze shook his head. “On, I tonnac.”
Oriin watched the woman nod, and wondered what had just passed between them. The woman then turned back to look at him and smiled.
“Is there anything in particular you wish to ask?”
Oriin shrugged. He might as well get it over with while there was someone here who could translate. “Ask him if he would be willing to travel with me.”
“Any reason why?” she asked.
His eyes narrowed at her. “None that concern you.”
She studied him for a long moment, and he felt a faint stirring of un-comfortableness as she did. Finally she shrugged, turning back to Kaze. “Eh stnaw ot wonk fi uoy lliw levart htiw mih?”
Kaze glanced across the table at Oriin and nodded with little hesitation,
“He will.” Kirra said un-necessarily.
Oriin nodded in return, before refocusing his gaze on the woman. “Now I suppose you’ll tell me about the money I owe for services rendered.”
The amused look flickered back to life over the woman’s face and she shook her head. “I helped because you looked like you needed it, not for money or anything else. You are very suspicious, Oriin.”
Oriin did not like the way she said his name, though he could not place why. “It’s saved my life more than once.” he replied.
She smiled as she stood, taking her ale with her. “Maybe I’ll see you again Oriin.” she nodded to him and walked away.
Oriin stared after her in confusion, which was masked cleverly with a glare.
“Os, erehw era ew gniog?” Kaze asked, snapping Oriin out of his thoughts and over to the boy, suddenly wishing the woman, Kirra, had not left so soon. Oriin did not reply, though his lack of response did not phase Kaze in the slightest as he returned to his meal.
~*~
They set off at dusk, it was always safer to travel at night rather than during the day. After all, it was easier to prepare against cold with extra layers of clothing and blankets than to try and keep the sun from you and keep cool. Even in late autum the sun was still strong and the heat terrible in the desert.
Oriin sat on a dappled grey horse, tall, with a much more regal bearing than the drab brown pack horse that carried the supplies and Kaze. Though he did not ride horse’s often, only renting them to travel from city to city or kingdom to kingdom if he was inclined to travel, Oriin always chose a horse that reminded him of his own that he had owned before his Kingdom had been taken. Not always in colour, but in temperament.
He had quickly found that Kaze had no idea how to ride a horse, though his enthusiasm in trying knew no bounds. Finally Oriin had just lifted him, with little difficulty and sat him on top of the horse, adjusting the stirrups accordingly and putting his feet into them putting his hands on the pommel and taking the reins over the horses head and attaching them to his own saddle.
And they were off, heading south and into the desert, Oriin was not even sure if what he sought was in this direction, but it seemed as good a direction to start looking as any. As they passed the last remnants of the green that surrounded the great oasis and moved onto the darkly glittering sand of the desert he had to wonder if what he was embarking on wasn’t just a wild goose chase. After all, there was always the possibility that he had been taken in by the fortune tellers words, that in his desperation to regain his kingdom, that had festered through the rumours defeats, that he was grasping at straws.
He glanced back at Kaze, who was stroking the horse’s mane and whispering softly to it. There was always a chance that the boy had no magic in him, that he had imagined what he saw.
Shaking these thoughts off he turned his gaze forward again. He could not afford to be anything but determined, or he would never get his kingdom back, and would never gain revenge on the man who had murdered his family.