Chapter 5

  Princes of Myrrh

  The Mystic Grove was nestled in the eastern foothills of the Great Sky Mountain. Its ancient history began only two years after the erasure of history in the time of the ancients. Since its creation, it has expanded from a secret village to a large capital city. A mixture of three species of tree infused with magic surround and grow within the walls of the city.

  On the cliffs above the city the Mystic Citadel sat, a palace and the seat of power in the Kingdom of Myrrh. The stoic towers and walls of the citadel were silent as ever, but a cacophony of continued chaos echoed throughout the halls within.

  Things had been quite tense for the past week, and the royal court had an issue worth more than idle gossip for once.

  The Crown Prince, Mistan, had gone missing.

  It was a nightmare. Right out of his room in the northern tower, no body or trace of him to be found. Just a broken stained glass window and an empty teacup that gave off a strong chaotic magical signature.

  The handmaiden serving the Prince had been imprisoned for questioning, but turned up dead in her cell just two days later. Treason. The talk of the palace was this and nothing else, in all but the most senile of circles.

  A man with silvery grey hair walked towards the great gates of the palace. He had not been here in eight years. He let out a nostalgic sigh as he looked up at the towers above, but his eyes narrowed at the sight of the North Tower. The broken window was a bit obvious. He wondered how word hadn't spread yet.

  The palace guard saw the man's casual approach, and the younger of them became alert and tense, ready to act. The pair of older guards remained relaxed at his approach.

  "Halt, who goes there?" One of the younger guards demanded.

  The man came to a stop, not amused. "Do you really not recognize me?" He asked.

  "State your name and business, or we shall be forced to remove you from these grounds."

  "You are doing your job, good." The man said. "Now step aside."

  "How dare you!" The guard drew his sword, but another blade intercepted it. One of the older guards had stopped the swing. "What are you doing?"

  "Stand down." The older guard said, pushing the younger guard's blade back. He sheathed his sword and turned to the silver haired arrival. "Welcome home, Prince Mien."

  Mien inclined his head, "Thank you. Now, father has summoned me."

  "Of course." The guard opened the gate, and the younger one hastened to help to avoid shame.

  The guards opened the gate, four of them placing elaborate metal gauntlets to the surface of the stone gates. Runes etched into the ornate gates dimmed and lit up in a complex sequence, lasting only a moment.

  The gates opened, and Mien entered the courtyard. The defenses of the Palace were designed to be impregnable. Breaking in with sheer force would be loud and require a great deal of power. Breaking in with stealth should be beyond the capabilities of even the best sneaks. Complex wards, protective magics, prevented aerial or spatial approaches; the wards shielded against over a hundred types of magic.

  Mien had a gut feeling that there had been an intruder that night. He strode through the courtyard, ignoring the various groups of nobles gawking and gossiping. Mien frowned. Half these nobles were useless, unable to so much as fend off a single Zori. He pushed those thoughts from his mind. His baby brother had gone missing, and he'd been summoned for that reason.

  The elaborate palace and it's intricate hallways were easy to navigate only after living there for years. Mien moved through hallways and passages and secret stairs like it was second nature, arriving at the council hall before anyone else had assembled.

  King Roger Mune Myrrh had assembled the best Trackers, Hunters, and Investigators he could find. He sent missives out to even those he knew would never respond. At this point, he needed all the help he could muster.

  The time for the meeting with those he had summoned was nearing, and the King paced in his study. He looked down upon the scale model of his Royal Palace, the Mystic Citadel, scrutinizing it for details he hadn’t seen yet. Nothing stood out, nothing was amiss. The Citadel was impregnable, as always.

  “Damn it all!” Roger summoned his Axe and smashed the model to pieces, “WHAT HAPPENED!?” The solid table buckled from another swing, and a third cracked the stone beneath the heavy rug. The King slumped after the brief rampage, clutching his chest and panting. He needed to compose himself. Rage was not something a King could show guests.

  “Sir.” A well dressed man said from his post at the end of the room. “The time is upon us.” He held up a small pocket watch towards the King.

  “Yes, yes.” King Roger said, standing up and dropping the Axe, which faded into smoke. Without another word he strode from the room, took the purple and green cloak his butler offered him and swept forth to the council hall. The butler remained at a bow until the King passed, before fading from sight.

  A large chamber had been prepared for the meeting, the council hall. Elaborate stonework made up the walls and supporting arches of the ceiling. A sturdy room infused with more protective forces than most others in the Citadel. The floor of the chamber was covered in an enormous deep purple rug, adorned with green to mark the colors of the nation without being too distracting. Several tables and chairs were present, but there was also a large space for people who preferred to stand.

  The council hall had many assorted folk present. Men and Women of every race, bearing colors from Anamos, Henos, and even Roagle were here. Some showed more local national allegiances, and others seemed unadorned adventurers without hearth. The ever present Royal Guard stood motionless at key points in the room, adorned in deep violet armor with black and green trim, easily mistaken for background furnishings.

  King Roger stepped into the room, and the small buzz of chatter died away. Despite the mixed attendance, he still commanded attention to even those outside his court. As the King took up position on the raised platform to be seen by all, he indicated to the doors with one hand.

  The doors were sealed, and barriers of magic and energy buzzed along the walls, designed to keep unfriendly eyes and ears out. “Eight nights ago my Son, Prince Mistan Myrrh, heir to the crown, went missing.” King Roger spoke with a loud clear voice, and everyone remained silent to listen. “For those of you unfamiliar, my son has fourth degree Bone Rot, and spent his days confined to his tower chambers by choice.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  There was a murmur in the crowd at the mention of the Bone Rot, but Roger continued to speak. “The stained glass window of the tower was broken, from the inside out, and my Spellbinders detected Chaos Mana in his teacup. The handmaiden that attended him was imprisoned, however...” his lip twitched, “she was found dead in her cell two days later.”

  “No body was found, and while my Palace is thought to be impregnable, Anything is Possible." The last three words made most in the room nod, the first law of Phaerayoe was known to all. "We found no evidence of a breach, which means if someone infiltrated they were too skilled to track.”

  King Roger looked out at the teams that had assembled, letting them take in the details for a moment. “Your objective is to find my Son, any questions?”

  “Could the culprit be someone already in the palace?” An investigator asked.

  “It certainly could be.” King Roger said, “But we have not found them.”

  “Do you have any Seers scrying that day?” Another posed.

  “They are certainly trying to, but our wards are difficult to work with.”

  “What of the handmaiden’s family?” “Why wasn’t the teacup warded?” “Why did the Prince not have a personal guard?” King Roger listened to the small crowd of people begin tossing questions forth, grinding his teeth.

  “Silence!” Mien commanded, standing from among the gathered adventurers. The room fell silent. “You call yourselves the best? These questions do not aid in our task!”

  A few nearby adventurers were unmoved, and one sneered. “Asking questions is our job.” He said.

  “Not useless ones.” Mien said. “The tower Mistan lived in was above the northern grounds, but he could have fallen outside the walls and into the East Sky River.” Mien looked up at King Roger, “Who has investigated the river?”

  “The barrier cannot be exited so easily.” King Roger said.

  “Chaos Mana can cause any effect.” Mien retorted.

  “That’s a bit of a stretch, Mien.” King Roger said. A few people in the room suddenly stiffened and looked at Mien when the King said his name. “It’s quite unlikely-”

  “Eight days and no body.” Mien said. “The grounds aren’t so complex as to hide a corpse. If someone absconded with him, we have no leads. The river is the only place to look now.” Mien said, putting his coat back on.

  “Look who’s jumping to conclusions.” The snide adventurer near Mien said.

  Mien looked at him, sharp silver eyes causing the snide man to falter. He had the same eyes as the King. Then Mien walked out of the council hall. By the time he had exited the room word that he was the former Crown Prince, and Eldest Son of King Roger, had spread amongst them.

  While King Roger gave info to his assembled adventurers, Mien walked through the palace. He had heard what he needed to know, his brother had been poisoned by Chaos Mana.

  Why?

  As he mulled it over Mien walked through the familiar halls without watching his step. Why had the culprit used Chaos Mana to poison him? It could hardly be consistent. There would be no way to be sure of the results, or perhaps there were magic users out there with simulations so complex they could even work with Chaos.

  But still, what was the reason for it? Why Mistan? Sure, he was the Crown Prince, heir to the throne of Myrrh, but removing him from the picture would not damage the Kingdom enough to weaken it. Was it political? There were no active enemies of Myrrh, were there?

  It couldn’t be personal. Mistan was never out and about. Bone Rot prevented him from going too far, and his lack of exercise made him frail, weak. He had no stamina for even ordinary activities. From the letters Mien had been receiving from his Mother and younger Sister, his condition had not improved.

  “A WILD MIEN APPEARS!” Mien was greeted by a sudden hug as a girl in regal dress found him.

  “Hey there kiddo.” Mien said to his little sister.

  “I’m not a kiddo, I’m a teeno!” she retorted, squeezing him tight. Her silver hair was clipped back, but longer than her shoulders. She wore her furred ears openly.

  “Fourteen, right?” Mien said, “When do you turn fifteen then, Mio?”

  “In Myrdost, duh!” Mio said.

  “Right, maybe I’ll get you a present.”

  “That’d be a first!” Mio said, unhugging him. Mien wasn’t sure how she did that.

  “So, you know anything about what happened to Mistan?” Mien asked. Mio’s smile faded, and she shook her head. “Well, I’m here to find out, come on.” Mien and Mio continued walking through the Palace to the entrance of the North Tower.

  They climbed the spiral stairs up the tower, “Mother told me everything already, but I listened to Father with the rest of the adventurers he hired, just in case.”

  “So why are you coming up here?” Mio asked.

  “I need to see the scene for myself. I have an idea I thought of on the way here.” The guards let them into the tower room, perks of royalty.

  Prince Mistan’s room was a thing of splendor. A massive room at the top of the tower, the bed dominated the furnishings. A large regal mattress perhaps more comfortable than the King’s, it had to be for someone of Mistan’s delicate condition. The room was fully stocked with everything you would need to live alone, a kitchen and study and many small comforts.

  Mistan did not spend his days wallowing, or even reading. Every space of the wall was covered in paintings. Landscapes, People, Still Life, all vibrant and colorful. Half the room had easels with complete and partial paintings as well, and Mistan didn’t shy away from any subject. Massive Ailands suspended in the sky, the Mystic Wall, the Scorpio Mountains of Cryston. There were even paintings of obscurities; a large pointed black doorway at the end of curving paths, a titanic creature with a forest growing atop it, a Dragon with black scales and a crown of golden horns, and vast fields of colored crystal spires taller than any building. “Where did he come up with all these ideas?” Mio wondered, looking at the paintings she’d seen hundreds of times.

  “He had a strong imagination.” Mien looked at the new paintings. Eight years of them, although it took Mistan longer than normal to finish a piece. There was a piece in progress of the Great Sky Mountain and the fabled firebird that is said to dwell atop it. Perhaps Mistan had seen it. There was a telescope to peer out of the tower from any direction after all. Mien and his Mother installed it themselves, some ten years ago.

  The stained glass window was the most important thing here, so Mien approached it. “Remove the patch.” He ordered one of the guards in the room. Too little too late to start guarding the place, its resident was gone.

  The guard removed the patch and Mien looked over the window, while Mio looked about. Tiny shards of colored glass near the base on the inside, but all of the larger chunks that were missing fell out of the room. The edges of the mural were still visible, so whatever broke the thing hit it in the center. No doubt all these details had already been noted.

  “Were all the chunks of the glass recovered from the grounds?” Mien asked the nearby guard.

  “No sir. A few pieces are still missing, four, no bigger than a forearm’s length.”

  “A senne’s forearm, or an evari’s?” Mien asked.

  The guard smirked, “We went with valon, but you could say two sennish forearms if you like.”

  Mio giggled, and Mien smiled a moment, then glanced back out of the broken window. It was a long drop to the grounds below, and nearly three hundred feet from the base of the tower to the north wall around the Palace.

  “But... it’s still possible.” Mien said to himself. He extended his hand towards the north wall, the River beyond it really, and let a swift flow of ethereal force fly forth. The vibe shot out like a bolt, soaring fast and striking the invisible barrier around the Palace. The guards watched with interest.

  Mien fired several more vibes, testing the barrier in several places. Each one returned a different reaction. “Aha!”

  “What’s up?” Mio asked.

  “The barrier.” Mien said, “It’s not consistent like it should be. So it’s possible it was affected by the Chaos Mana.”

  “Oh?” Mio looked out over the grounds. “So is Brother alright?”

  “Maybe.” Mien said. “But I need to investigate the river to be completely sure.” Mien looked at the guards. “Report what I’ve found to the King, I’m going to the river.” The guards nodded, and one of them moved with practiced speed.

  “You’re going already?” Mio asked, “Did you see Mom?”

  “No.” Mien was already heading down the stairs.

  “She’ll be mad.” Mio grinned and skipped alongside her brother.

  “That’s okay.” Mien said, “She’ll understand.”

  “Come back soon, okay?”

  “I’ll... try.” Mien said. Mio sighed, and they exited the tower.

  Mien left the palace, almost as swift as he had arrived. There was tracking to be done.