Chapter 19 – KIDNAPPING ARGONIAN PRINCE TELIS

Chapter 19 was omitted from the first edition. Please find it below.

“It’s no throne room,” Isdra said. She cast her dark eyes around the cluttered command post tent that Arelum had haunted continuously for three straight days. Arelum traced a lazy circle on the map in front of him. The waxwhite castle of the Argonian capital was at the map’s center.
“You can say that again,” Arelum said, still lost in his dead end plans.
Isdra saw that he had mistaken her meaning. “You already have a throne room, sitting empty back at the Witches’ Dominion.”
“And no throne in it. A king without a throne, that should be a song, shouldn’t it?”
“Your witches will make you the finest throne you could hope for, they would be thankful to. Rather than prosecute this endless, fruitless war any further. Think of the research neglected,” Isdra argued.
Finally Arelum raised his eyes to hers. “It’s not about the throne. Nor the research either. Nor even the Crystal of Orin. It’s about what the Crystal of Orin can accomplish. I have to return to my family. To save them.”
Isdra took a seat across from him and grabbed a figurine of a soldier from the tabletop. “War games,” she said, and she clasped her hand around the figurine. “What if I knew how to win that crystal for you?”
“By all means, Commander Isdra, let us hear your plan.”
“We capture Prince Telis, Argonia’s only heir to the throne. King Safan’s dearest treasure.”
“Ingenious,” Arelum said, but his eyes said that it was a foolish plot. “And Prince Telis’s elite guardsman, his master swordsmanship, these will be of no concern, because…”
“Because he will not fight. He will come willingly into his cage.” Isdra showed Arelum the soldier figurine peeking through her fingers like the bars of a cage.
Arelum’s eyes shifted back and forth trying to guess at her meaning. “Why? Why will he come willingly?”
“Because with my shapeshifting abilities, and your dark art to push my abilities to heights not allowed in light magic, I will be an unsurpassed beauty. A maiden of perfection whom he will fall hopelessly in love with.” Now she set the figurine back on the map, but she had transformed it into a shapely nymph.
It was a true work of art.

Late that night, as Isdra was preparing the potion that would transmute her flesh to the youthful appearance desired, Arelum arrived with the final, most potent ingredient.
“It’s beautiful,” Isdra said, reaching out to take it in her hand.
“Don’t touch it,” Arelum said, and pulled the white thing away. “It’s still fresh and moist, full of its youth. It was only now, this day, transmuted into a salamander. And cut down in the prime of its life.”
“It’s a selfish thing,” she said, lusting after the lump of pure white flesh he held in his hand.
“For both of us, yes,” Arelum said. He knew that Isdra’s heart desired to you then her flesh almost as strongly as he wanted her mission to succeed. She squinted back at him, taking his meaning. She didn’t appreciate the accusation of impure intentions being turned back on her.
The skin of the salamander was added to her cauldron, and dissolved into the pluripotent stew of her magical concoction.
A few sips later, Isdra became a young maiden of undeniable beauty. Together, she and Arelum departed for a pub in a small town where they knew they were sure to find The Argonian Prince, Telis.

Inside the pub, Commander Schlaffley has an exchange with the drunken Argonian Prince.
“I know I heard it that time,” said Schlaffley. He was the senior commander of Telis’s guardsman. Prince Telis rested half off his seat, balanced on his tailbone, slouched to the furthest fulcrum of his barroom chair.
“Probably one of my same heart,” he said. He stared into the bottom of his green-glass waxsynth stein. “She’s bemoaning the sacking of Levenim. Think of all those waxsynth steins, draining into the soil. The beautiful, costumed girls, gutted and left to rot in the street. Gone. All gone.”
“I heard the cry of a maiden in pain. She can’t be a stone’s throw from this window,” said the senior commander. The window was covered in dark parchment, and he couldn’t see through it. So he held his ear near it instead, straining for the words in the sound.
“Well,” Telis said, annoyed, “go save her, then.” He attempted to fix drunken eyes on the senior commander.
“Your highness, with all respect, I cannot leave my post for naught.” He stood at attention then, officiously. “The life of our prince is worth uncounted suffering maidens.”
“Fine then,” said the prince. “Let’s go save her!” he said. And he stood unsteadily to stand and refasten his sword belt.

“Noooooo!!! Please don’t! I have nothing left, only my honor. Please, leave me that,” said the maiden. She lay in the dirt street outside the Dog & Trumpet, writhing in an ecstacy of mistreatment. First emerged the senior commander of Telis’s guard detail, and then Telis himself. He showed little concern for the situation, but the senior commander imposed himself between Telis and the scene as duty required.
“Shut your mouth, you dirty Argonian wench!” Arelum shouted. He looked over his shoulder to make certain the people emerging from the Dog & Trumpet had heard him. There was a titter of angry excitement. They heard. “I’ll have you in my herum, if you survive the night.”
“Please, dark sorcerer, spare me,” the maiden said. Finally, Prince Telis’s interest was piqued. Prince Telis and his senior commander recognized Arelum, saying, “it’s the Witch King himself attacking that maiden! And there, Ledes, his vampire first in command.”
“Now look what’s come of this,” Telis said, striding past his guards, out into the dirt road. “I asked my father not to deliver you to the vampires. And look where it’s gotten us now.” Telis drew his grandfather’s mended ceremonial blade from its ornate scabbard. It was a blade long on presentation and short on function. “You’re in league with them against us.”
“Telis! I should gut you where you stand,” Arelum said, and his sword drifted up out of his hand to stand guard over him while his fingers gripped the zipper-pull that he would need to expend for the evisceration spell, should Telis draw too near. “That sword of yours is not meant for dueling,” Arelum said.
“My skills are. That crown of yours is not meant for ruling Argonia,” Telis responded. “Now, unhand that Argonian maiden, or pay with your life.”
Then Arelum remembered himself. He saw the opportunity to feign fear. His hand slipped away from the zipper-pull, and instead to a bag of talc. “Don’t take another step closer. Don’t dare!”
Telis continued to advance, followed by his entourage. “I do so dare.”
Arelum threw the talc bag on the ground, and it puffed into a bright flash. With a bang, Arelum and Ledes vanished. But the Argonian maiden remained. “Oh thank you, Prince Telis. Thank the All Father for your bravery. You’ve saved me from a life of ravage and servitude,” the maiden said.
Telis looked upon her and saw that she was exceptionally beautiful. “Your beauty, no doubt, has been more a curse than a blessing. To get the attention of such as Arelum.” Telis shook his head and spat in the dirt for having mentioned the name. “Did they harm you?”
Disguised as a maiden, Isdra explained “They killed my brother and his wife. They burned our farm and killed our cattle. I have nothing, and nowhere to go. I have lost everything. I was trying to make it to the capitol to be near my father.” She looked into his eyes and cast another spell with her eyelashes. One that tugged at the thinnest of heartstrings. “He is so ill, my poor father. Now I’m doomed. I have lost all.”
“Don’t cry, my lady,” Telis said. “Everything will end brightly. I will help you. Do you know who I am?”
Most innocently, and with a touch of embarrassed shame, the Argonian maiden looked up at him and shook her head, no. “A brave warrior? I do not know who you are, but only that you are the hero who saved me from that witch.”
“I am Telis, Prince of Argonia.”
“Great is the All Father, creator of the Arenyth! How could I have been so fortunate to be saved by you? I owe my life to you, my lord. Please, allow me to serve you. Until a new life comes to claim my soul.”
Charmed and smitten by her otherworldly beauty, Telis felt he had finally earned the just reward of his reputation for bravery and swordsmanship. “Come to the capitol with us. I will see that you have a place to live, have food on your table each evening. I could even offer you a job in the palace kitchens.”
“Oh thank you, my prince. You are truly the hero you’re said to be.”

More than two weeks passed before Arelum heard from Isdra again. Finally, she used her summoning stone to signal him to meet her in the no man’s land of the north Argonian forest. Arelum traveled silently through the night into the dark forest, but upon seeing Isdra again in the form of an innocent, beautiful maiden, Arelum began to laugh.
“Shhhhh!” she hissed at him. “What’s wrong with you? We’re trying to go unnoticed.” Irritated, she looked into the deeper shadows of the trees for signs of an interloper.
“Well met maiden, you look charming,” Arelum said.
“I’m sick of this false body. Do not laugh at me, Arelum. You wouldn’t last a day in this maiden dress. Even worse having the prince try to kiss me every time he sees me.”
“I’d rather be burned alive.”
“You might get your chance. I’m losing patience,” she said. A scowl crawled across her face, but where Isdra would have normally looked severe, her acquired form could only manage to express a cute grumpiness. “The good news is that the prince has fallen in love with me. Hopelessly.”
“Ah, he doesn’t know you very well,” Arelum smiled.
“No, he doesn’t. The bad news is that it’s been difficult to get him away from his bodyguards. They are around him constantly. And some of them are superbly trained warriors, Templar Knights. Unless I get him alone, I won’t be able to put my sleeping curse on him so we can kidnap him.”
Arelum thought hard about this, and sat with his head hung low for several minutes. Isdra arched her eyebrow in mocking doubt that he could devise a solution in moments to the puzzle she had spent every waking minute trying to solve. Finally, Arelum spoke. “How about this idea. Tomorrow, take the prince into the forest for a romantic lunch. There you will invite him to swim in the lagoon. The guards will want to remain ashore, wearing their armor and with their weapons at hand. I will bring Ledes and Armand with me to cause a distraction while you put your sleeping curse on the prince.”
Isdra was dubious. It was a plan, but as likely to fail as to succeed. “It’s not perfect. But at this point I am ready to have my cover blown one way or the other. Just be careful. His Templar guards may be powerful enough to prevent you from using your spells.” Her beautiful, wide maiden eyes showed him how serious that threat could be. “Please don’t let anything happen to Ledes,” she said. “Or the dwarf” she added hastily.

The splashes of water sparkled through the sun dapples of the forest canopy. The prince was chasing his vixen through the water, nearly naked and hungry to catch her. The maiden laughed and disappeared again under the lagoon’s surface. Idra swam deep under the water halfway to the opposite shore before she came up for a breath. Then she shouted back to Telis who was searching for her. He saw her game, and dove after her, swimming under the water as well.
The prince’s Templar guardsmen lay in the shade of the trees on shore, occasionally scanning the edge of the forest for any sign of threat. They were completely unaware of the threat that had been right in their midst so many times.
Next, Isdra’s maiden form appeared near the opposite shore from where they had begun their swim.
“There you are!” Telis shouted to her. They were already so far from the other shore that the guards didn’t even hear him.
Isdra laughed and crawled out onto the rocky shore. “Come and get me, if you can!” She dashed into the forest, making sure to leave a trail of wet footprints for him to follow. She made her way deep into the woods where the guards could not see them from the other side. Prince Telis’s heart raced with the pleasure of the hunt. He climbed from the lagoon and began to track the maiden into the woods.
The guards began to realize they had lost track of their ward, but it was too late. He was alone in the deep woods with the huntress, and his swords were on the opposite shore. “You’re not very good at hiding, sweet maiden. I almost believe you want to be found,” he said, relishing the idea that she was hoping for him to come conquer her.
“You’re right, my prince,” she said. She stepped into his path from behind a tree. And then before his eyes she finally dropped her illusionary appearance and became herself once more. A dark, severe woman of commanding grace.
“What have you done to her! My sweet, lovely girl!”
“It has been me all along, Prince Telis,” Isdra replied. And then she tossed the sleeping sands that Arelum had left by the shore for her.
“But why?” Telis said, stumbling toward her, already beginning to lose consciousness under her sleeping spell. “Why would you do this to me?”
“You foolish boy. How vulnerable is man in his gentle heart. I’m no maiden, you ignorant prince, I’m a Master Witch of the Dominion.”
Telis fell to the leafy ground, unable to take another step toward her, losing consciousness quickly. “Only now do I recognize you, Isdra. You will pay for this. My father will avenge my death.” And he began to snore deeply.
“Your father will pay handsomely for you, you mean,” Isdra said.
The handsome prince drifted into the darkest, blackest sleep. His face lay in the leaves and sticks of the forest floor.
Then emerged Arelum, Ledes and Armand from their hiding places nearby. They peered around, searching the distance for sound or sign of the prince’s Templar guards.
“Not even a scuffle?” Arelum said, placing his sword into its scabbard. “Why Isdra, you’ve outdone yourself.”
“Let’s not count our winnings yet,” she replied. “All we have is a lecherous prince, not the Crystal of Orin.”
Arelum’s expression fell into a scowl. “I don’t need to be reminded.”
Behind them, Armand began preparing a circle in the leaves for his teleportation spell. He dragged his axe in a wide arc through the leafy substrate. “I can have us a mile from here, and quite near the Witches’ Dominion in just a few minutes time. Keep an eye on that western break in the trees.”

Ledes and Armand arrived at the whited Palace of Argonia with polished obsidian stones in their pockets. With the help of the most powerful witches, Armand had conspired to turn them into teleportation stones. They would work instantly upon a hard pinch, and would take their master once only to one place alone. Arelum’s throne room.
Ledes entered King Safan’s inner chamber with a smile of challenge on his lips. He had the upper hand and he knew it. Armand was calm and circumspect.
“Greetings, your majesty,” Ledes began, but he lifted his chin defiantly.
“How dare you to greet me before you are invited to speak. You and your vile witch king stole my son from me. I should kill you where you stand, vampire!” The king threw himself down from his high pedestal throne. He spread his arms wide to catch the wind, and made himself into his threatening great horned owl form as he descended. And in response, Ledes hovered into the air to meet him several feet above the ground.
Armand put a hand to his axe handle, and the Templars in the room began to slowly unsheath their rapiers and claymores. They took cautious steps toward more defensible positions around the room, surrounding the vampire and the dwarf.
“I realize emotions are running high, your Majesty,” the vampire said to the majestic owl, “but as angry as you feel, killing me would solve nothing.” His cunning smile returned. “I’m sure you want to see your son alive again?”
The king landed on his feet in human form again, saying, “He is alive then, good. You’re wasting my time. What are Arelum’s terms, then? What does he want?”
“Your son has not been harmed,” Ledes said. The king snorted his disbelief, and Ledes added one word. “Yet,” he said. We’ll give your son back and end the conflict. Arelum will seek no more Argonian territory. All we are asking for is the Crystal of Orin. In return we will deliver your son to you just as we found him.”
“That is no offer,” said the king. “You know that it is impossible. To give Arelum the Crystal of Orin would likely spell the destruction of my son and all else. He would destroy the Arenyth with it. You and your witch king don’t seem to understand, if anyone tries to open the gates between the realm of the machines and the realm of magic, we will all be overtaken by the laws and rules of their science. It would cause our realm of magic to be destroyed.”
Ledes laughed and shook his head. “Why do you insist so? There is no evidence for that wild theory. That theory is based on the scratchings of one unknown priest that researched the Crystal of Orin thousands of years ago. Do you even know his name? Or why he made that assertion?”
“I don’t need evidence to believe in the word of the high Priestess Briallia, leader of the Church of the All Father,” Safan said, holding his hand solemnly above his head in salute to her name. “Briallia, whose word is the word of the All Father. I don’t need proof. And I won’t jeopardize the lives of thousands for Arelums selfish and irresponsible quest.” Safan glared at Ledes and then with a growl he added, “Tell your infant king, that is how a just ruler makes his decision. Now go back to him and ask that he tender an offer that does not threaten life as we know it, far and wide.”
Armand ’s eyes grew wide and his lower lip began to quake, seeing the negotiation fail. Ledes walked toward the door, and Armand backed that direction as well. But before Ledes reached the exit, he gave a parting shot to King Safan. “I was afraid this was going to happen. You truly are the worst negotiator ever. I will depart for now, since there is nothing else the witch king would like to negotiate. But if you change your mind, please do let us know. Otherwise, your troops and villages will continue to burn until there is nothing left of the Argonian kingdom… Oh. And before I forget. We will begin sending your son back to you over the next three days. In several small shipments.”

King Safan stood up from the long table, an outward sign of his frustration. His counselors were afraid to meet his gaze, but Briallia raised her chin to see what he would do next. Her face was stern.
Safan spoke, “I have my back to the wall and a sword point at my chest. My son! My only son has been kidnapped by an upstart, vagabond witch child! Witch king,” he said, and he spat on the ground. Gaimea spat too, to echo the sentiment. “A child who demands the Crystal of Orin in return for my son’s life.”
Safan met Briallia’s icy stare. He waited for her to respond, but she said nothing. So he went on, “Must I sacrifice my son for the safety of our realm? I could never betray my own son.”
“You have no choice, Safan,” Briallia finally said. “That is not a betrayal.”
“It is not an honor either. It’s not the promise of a father to his son. And it’s not goodness. Nor light in any way.”
“It’s not the All Father’s will,” Briallia began, “that Arelum should ransom your son. That is a failing of Molochi’s evil minion, our enemy. Not a failing of Light.”
“A failing of the light,” Safan quoted, and he turned his back on her, seeming to turn the phrase in his mind.
“Not to despair, good king,” Briallia said. “We will find a way. Just as the darkness has its way, so does the light. For every puzzle the darkness brings, the light has a way to unlock it. It is a matter of not letting it cloud your vision. You must think clearly.”
Safan paced around the table as she spoke. Fear of the king certainly clouded the vision of his many advisors, whom were still afraid to make eye contact with the angry king Safan.
“Your Holiness, I do appreciate your words of comfort. Nonetheless, my son is gone.”
“Allow me to enlighten you. It works thus. I have among my devotees an Enchantress in the temple of the All Father. She said that to defeat a villain you must think like one. So let us use Arelum’s own tricks on him. He gave your son a false object of desire, an illusion of beauty. Let’s give him the object of his desires, just as false as the witch that took your son.”
Gaimea spoke up, intrigued. “A false Crystal of Orin? Is it possible? Arelum would recognize the fake immediately. Wouldn’t he?”
“My enchantress knows a way to create a sulfide crystal to look identical to the Crystal of Orin. Down to its golden bezel. We need only to make Arelum believe he has the real Crystal of Orin for long enough for him to release Prince Telis.”
“Please pardon my interruption, Your Holiness. But I am a witch as is Arelum, and I know his sorcery better than anyone here. Every crystal has a unique vibration that atunes with our Wiccan abilities. Based on its frequency alone, Arelum will never be fooled by a sulfide crystal, no matter how convincing its appearance.”
“Keep heart,” Briallia said. She stood and went to stand behind Gaimea. She placed her palms upon Gaimea’s shoulders and said, “By combining our abilities, Gaimea’s knowledge of Wiccan crystal vibrations, and my control over vibrational waves, we can create a false vibration. For as long as we can concentrate together on the shifting waves, the false crystal will vibrate like the original. This will trick Arelum into believing it is the true Crystal of Orin.”
Safan ran his fingertips through his gray beard and let out a sound like half of a laugh. His advisors looked, wondering what the sound meant. Then came more sounds from King Safan, “Hahahaaa!” And a smile spread across his face. “It is not a failing of the light!”
“We must be very careful, though,” Briallia cautioned. “The crystal will only vibrate on the right frequencies for the moments while we concentrate. I’m not certain it will be time enough for us to escape with Prince Telis.”
Safan’s countenance fell, and he shouted, “More! More ideas!”
“Griffins. We use the griffins to fly out quickly,” Commander Balador offered.
“See there? Griffins!” Safan echoed. He looked to Briallia for approval.
Gaimea was the voice of dissent. “Ledes is skilled with the bow and arrow. He could kill several of us as we fly–.”
“A portal, then,” Safan interrupted. “I travel by portal often. With time to prepare one ahead of time, we should have no trouble. Five of us may pass. That’s myself, Telis, Briallia, Gaimea and you, Commander Balador.”
“You mean to face Arelum and his legion without an army then? Without your own guards?”
King Safan began his pacing around the table again. When he came to Balador’s chair, he stopped. “I’ll have my best warrior, Balador. I’ll have you.”

The marshes lay half-way between the Argonian capital and the woodlands of the Witches’ Dominion. The stench of the marsh was fitting for the foul trade that Safan and Arelum were about to make. Safan was busy creating his portal when Arelum and his troupe arrived.
The screech of a wildcat pierced the air, and Arelum appeared through the upper branches of the trees, along with his entourage. They descended on the backs of a set of five black panthers who had been enchanted to fly and were under Arelum’s command to act as loyal steeds.
“Well met,” Arelum said as his flying panther’s paws met the marshy ground. “Look how nicely matched we are. Each of us has brought our best witch, our best warrior, a holy person and something to trade.” As he said the last, he pointed to Prince Telis, who was laid over the back of his panther in a bundle. His arms were bound behind his torso, and his legs were roped together tightly. He was wrapped around his panther like a saddle, and looked terribly undignified and uncomfortable.
Arelum had arrived with Ledes the vampire, Armand the healer and Isdra the witch. He climbed down from his flying panther mount, and with a smile on his face he pointed to the crystal in Gaimea’s hand. He said, “It seems you finally made the right decision, Safan. You re not as insufferably dull-witted as I thought you were.”
“I’m not just giving you this Crystal of Orin, Arelum,” King Safan said. “I’m entrusting it to you.”
“It is my rightful property, it belongs to the Witch King,” Arelum said.
“It belongs to the Witches’ Dominion, Arelum,” Gaimea interrupted. Her voice sounded far away, and the crystal glowed brightly when she spoke, holding it in her hand.
Arelum looked closely at the gemlike rod of crystal, wondering at its resonance with Gaimea’s energy. “It truly knows a witch, doesn’t it,” he said. “Enough. I’m bored already of your banter. take your son, in perfect health just as I promised.”
Ledes sliced the ropes from Telis’s legs and allowed him to fall from his panther. Unable to break his fall with his arms bound, he grunted as he splashed into the stinking marsh.
“Arelum, enough!” Briallia said, nearly breaking her concentration on the cystal. “Why must you be so stubborn and disrespectful?” The crystal throbbed again with visible light, casting rays into the canopy of trees and making bright streaks among the folds of the velvet pillow that Gaimea held it upon.
“Hold your foolish tongue,” Arelum said. His top lip curled into a snarl. “You might be the high priestess of light and overseer of this realm, but you are not my master.”
Briallia kept her head steady and did not move. She did not look Arelum in the eye. She concentrated on the stone’s vibration to hold its secret close, and said in a flat, even tone, “I am the protector of the land of magic, and I will not see this land destroyed for your selfish agenda. There are less dangerous ways to cross the barrier between the two realms. Be patient. Work with us so we can help you find a way.”
“Work with you?” Arelum said. “At long last you beg me to work with you. When so many nights ago you could have done me that kindness instead of caging me and giving me to those who would prefer me dead. Work with you? Who destroyed the temples of Molochi and killed my birth parents?”
“Arelum, you must understand,” Briallia began, but the crystal throbbed with light again and required her concentration to maintain the illusion.
“I am not your fool. You keep telling me that crossing the barrier with the Crystal of Orin will bring death and destruction upon the Arenyth. War between our two worlds. Yet no one can cite the source of this myth specifically. Just the speculation of a sage who has been dead a thousand years and whose ideas have never been proved right. In all that time. He was probably a hermit and a virgin, inventor of tall tales and children’s stories.”
“What’s wrong with being a virgin?” Armand interjected.
“I mean inexperienced in the world,” Arelum said. Then he turned toward Briallia again to say, “Ignorant.”
“Enough! It is true Arelum, I have no evidence or proof that my theory is correct. But I trust my instincts. They have never misled me. And I trust the advice of the scholars of Arenythian crystals and stones.”
Arelum jammed his spear into the ground. “I did not come here to listen to nonsense. And you did not bring the Crystal of Orin as a conversation piece. You brought it to trade for Prince Telis’s life. Give me the crystal now,” he said, causing his daggers to float out of their scabbards, “or else we begin carving Prince Telis for the evening meal.”
The Argonian King stepped forward to say, “You’ll return my son to me first,” and drew his own blade.
With a nod of his head, Arelum signaled Ledes to pull the tethered prince up to his feet and march him forward toward his father. At the same time, King Safan signaled Gaimea to deliver the crystal to Arelum. She could not bring herself to acknowledge him as she approached, but instead looked at the tops of the trees behind him. This young dark elf who had claimed her own mother’s throne and cast her out of the dominion she felt was rightfully hers to rule. And now this, commanded to give him the last and only object of value she had been able to take with her from the throne room upon her escape.
It was a fake, though, she knew, and a smirk crossed her lips for just a moment as she finally met Arelum’s gaze to deliver the stone.
Arelum took the velvet pillow that held the crystal into his hands and inspected the stone carefully. He approved of its thick layers of high vibrations, like a harmony beyond hearing. He believed it was the Crystal of Orin.
Quickly the Argonian King finished opening his portal to escape. But portals were generally unpredictable and took time to create. It seemed a strange mode of transportation.
Ledes mentioned it to Arelum. “How strange. Why should they choose to travel by portal? An unpredictable way to travel at best. They must certainly fear you, Arelum, to make such a risky, hurried exit.”
The Argonians began to disappear into the portal, Briallia leading the way, followed quickly by Gaimea. Balador worked at the knots on Prince Telis’s arms as they neared the portal’s edge, and King Safan awaited them, wanting only to see his son escape safely.
Then the realization came to Arelum. Something wasn’t right about the Crystal of Orin he’d been given. “It’s a fake!” he yelled out. “They take us for fools, this crystal is a fake! Kill him, kill the prince! Kill them all!”
Out flashed the arrows, and Ledes began to let fly from his quiver. But Balador was prepared. He crossed his gauntlets and created his shield of light to protect himself, the prince and the king. “Go, your highness! Get thee to safety!” he shouted. Ledes’ arrows skittered into the dirt, deflecting at odd angles from Balador’s shield of light.
Enraged, Arelum pulled his spear from the dirt and jammed it down again, this time with the energy of a quake spell behind it. It sent a shockwave of energy crackling through the dirt, straight to Balador’s feet, knocking Commander Balador and the king off of their feet.
From the portal poured a blue sheet of ice, Gaimea’s magic reaching back through the portal to form an icy wall in front of the helpless Commander Balador, who was struggling to stand up from the quaking ground. Arelum’s spear point bit into the wall of ice when it should have struck Balador’s heart.
“Go, go go!” Balador shouted. The ground still rumbled and made him unsteady.
Quickly Arelum tapped Ledes, and gripped one of his arrows, empowering it with dark magic. “My talented friend, use your great accuracy to shoot this cursed arrow into the prince’s head.”
Ledes glanced at Arelum to convey his distaste for the task. But he took the arrow, knocked it on his bowstring, and let it fly.
Upon seeing Ledes target the prince, the High Priestess raised her magical staff to the sky to cause a blinding light to appear. Ledes flinched to shield his eyes, and his cursed arrow went wide of its mark. Their eyesight began to return, resolving from a field of colored dots into a dim representation of reality again. Arelum screamed with fury upon seeing the Prince and his rescuers escape.
Ledes touched Arelum’s shoulder and said, “They may have tricked you out of the Crystal of Orin, but I have some comforting news. I was able to shoot the cursed arrow you gave me, and hit one of them. That target, my dear Arelum, was none other than the Argonian King. So what curse you gave the arrow, it is now upon King Safan.”
“The Vermin Blow. He’ll regret crossing me.”

Back at the Argonian Palace the king screamed in agony. The arrow had pierced his chest. His healers scrambled to care for his wound, staunching the bloodflow with white featherdown. King Safan was lucky that his armor had slowed Ledes’s arrow enough to prevent it from reaching his heart, yet the arrow tip did penetrate deep into his flesh, thus infusing his blood with Arelum’s curse.
“Bring him water,” Commander Balador said to the servants. Laying on a tabletop in the main hall of the Argonian castle, the king writhed with pain.
“No, wait. Stop the bleeding, nothing else,” Gaimea directed. “We need to examine this further. This arrow was bewitched.” She held the bloodied shaft of Ledes’s arrow in her hand, scrutinizing its aura. “It’s a curse.”
“Just water,” Prince Telis said. “What could be the harm in that?”
“Until we know what he is cursed with, risk nothing.” She continued to examine the arrow and lay it out on a table near King Safan, turning it over and over, casting various detection spells and narrowing down the possibilities. Finally, she hit upon the test that made the arrow radiate a red glow in answer to her query.
“Vermin Blow. The curse is the Vermin Blow, and thank the All Father you didn’t bring him anything to drink.”
Telis and Balador huddled over the arrow with her, waiting for her to detail the curse’s effects. “It’s a simple curse, but insidious. The next time our king eats or drinks anything, the curse will be complete. He will be transformed into a giant rodent.”
“You must be joking. A rat?” Pince Telis said.
“He’ll starve to death,” Balador said. “Can you reverse it.”
“I cannot,” said Gaimea. ‘Briallia, is it something your powers can address?”
“Arelum’s magic has grown very powerful. I could try to reverse the curse. But there is a good chance I will only cause the curse transformation to take place immediately. I will not risk it.”
“What choice do we have?” Telis said.
They brooded over the curse into the night and through the next morning. The bleeding finally stopped and the pain began to subside enough for King Safan to take part in his own treatment.
High Priestess Briallia searched for a solution, but time was against her. The king grew hungry and impatient. Finally, the Argonian prince ordered his father to be restrained against his will, as the king lusted for food.
“I have a partial solution,” Gaimea the White Witch said. “Stasis. I can place the king into a state of suspended animation. He’ll feel no pain, no hunger, no thirst.”
“You’re talking about placing him into a deathless sleep until we can find a way to break his curse?” High Priestess Briallia said. “A king unable to command during a time of war?”
“I’m afraid it may be our only option, your holiness.”
A dark silence came over the gathering. No one wanted to face the inevitable outcome.
“Very well,” King Safan finally said to break the silence. Prince Telis, my son. I hereby name you prince regent. You will command my armies in my stead. Briallia, Gaimea… put me under your spell.” and Safan fell into stasis.