Chapter 25: Nightmare

Patrick struggled against the emotions bubbling inside of him. Just in front of him, Sehn and Saerith were standing a few feet apart, weapons drawn, and only moments from beginning what could only be a fight to the death. This was going to be a diplomatic nightmare.

Not only was the situation among the most delicate Patrick had ever been tasked with handling, but it was something that needed to be resolved soon. He too had his sword drawn, and if he didn’t put a stop to this within the next few moments, he’d have to choose between bad or worse.

If he killed, or assisted in the killing of the prince to the Elven people, then Humans and Elves would be plunged into war, amidst a growing chaos that far outweighed even the tragedy of such a horrifying reality. If he did nothing, then both Humans and Elves alike would be destroyed. With the premature death of Sehn, following it would be the inevitable death of the world.

More than anything, more than the fear, the uncertainty, and the feelings of growing desperation, Patrick felt a grave disappointment in the prince of the Elven people. He wasn’t sure exactly what had brought about this situation, but nothing that Sehn could have ever done, or said, should’ve made a noble prince act this way. As a prince, Saerith had but one responsibility, the same as Patrick—he had to protect his kind, even at the cost of his own pride.

“Cease this at once!” Patrick shouted. “Prince Saerith, what has happened here? What has happened to make you act like this?”

Prince Saerith turned his right eye to meet Patrick’s, still keeping his left focused on Sehn. “As a prince, it is my right to choose any Elven woman I wish as queen. This buffoon has not only assaulted me, but he is now threatening my very right! Cah’lia is a strong and beautiful woman, befitting the qualities of a queen. I knew that the moment we first met. If I choose her, then no Elf may dare challenge that!”

Patrick’s disappointment in the prince was so great that it almost became funny to him.

Is he being serious? Patrick wondered. Is the prince of the Elven kind just a foolish boy after all?

Patrick had to struggle to keep his voice civil, but even despite all his efforts, the disbelief crept through. “Are you serious, my good prince? That’s what all this is about? A damned woman? Need I remind you, why we’re here in the first place.”

Cah’lia was looking at the ground, in what Patrick assumed was her own state of confusion. Prince Saerith’s blade was still dancing with electricity, and shooting sparks. “What does it matter what this is about? My own subject has threatened me, has treated me with the ultimate disrespect. You’re a prince as well, Patrick. Can you tell me this means nothing to you?”

Patrick lost control of his emotions. He dropped his pretense of diplomacy and civility. “You’re a damned fool!” he shouted. Prince Saerith’s jaw dropped at the remark, but Patrick continued before he could mouth a reply.

“What kind of prince are you? I honestly can’t believe we’re even having this conversation! A prince does not put his own desires above the needs of his people. Gods, man, you’re about to sacrifice the world for your own peace of mind. You knew when you came on this journey what Sehn was, how he acts, and what to expect from him. You knew these things, and decided to come along anyway. I thought you a noble prince, but I can see now that on you it’s nothing more than a title. You’re just a silly and foolish boy, no different than Sehn.”

Sehn turned to Patrick. “How dare you insult the Great—”

“Silence!” Patrick commanded in a thunderous roar. Not even Sehn would challenge him when he displayed this level of commanding rage. Patrick knew that deep down Sehn had a respect for him, despite his reluctance to admit it. Even before knowing of his role as prince to the Kingdom of the Seven Pillars, Sehn must have known not to push him too far. It was more than likely the reason he picked so much more on Daniel.

Patrick resumed his dressing-down of the foolish prince. “I will not allow you to condemn our world to hell, just so you can walk away with your pride intact. I’m so very disappointed in you, Saerith.”

Saerith gasped. For the first time, Patrick had referred to him by name alone, and not ‘Prince Saerith.’

There was a shout from behind, and Patrick looked over his shoulder to see Nero charging at them. In his hands was the wooden toy-sword that Sehn had bought for him in Koringrath, held extended in a killing position. “I’m coming, Sehn!” he yelled. “To war we go!”

Patrick opened his mouth to shout a warning, but stopped, seeing no need. In just a few swift strides, Cah’lia closed the distance between Nero and the two raging Elves, tackling him to the ground, and pinning him. She grabbed his leg, dragging him away—all the while the boy was kicking and screaming. Patrick gave Rillith a cursory glance, and the tall warrior ran to assist. Patrick needed Cah’lia there. It was possible she’d be the only person able to diffuse the situation if he could not.

Rillith tossed the boy over his shoulder, walking away with him, and Cah’lia returned. The woman looked confused, caught in a state of conflicting emotions. Princess Saerina’s expression held no such confusion. She merely watched the situation as if distant from it, like nothing more than a spectator of events.

Saerith growled at Patrick. “Do you mean to tell me you’d allow yourself to be treated this way, from this fool? You would allow him to disrespect you so, and to take that which you have planned to claim?”

Patrick stood unwavering before the prince. He answered without hesitating. “I’d offer Sehn my own mother, if it meant I could save my people. That, my friend, is how a prince behaves.” Patrick also wanted to mention his disgust at the prince’s ability to simply ‘claim’ a woman, but realized that the escalating situation was no time or place for a discussion on morality or ethics.

“Please stop,” Cah’lia said. Her voice was soft, but her eyes were determined. “This is partly my fault. Sehn, I take back everything I told you, I was just trying to get you to listen to me. Prince Saerith and I would never—”

“Of course we would!” Saerith growled. “Do you think you have a choice, Cah’lia? You will be my queen, I’ve already decided it. You should know by now that you could never be with this buffoon, even if I didn’t demand it otherwise. I will take you as my bride, consider the matter settled. I decree it here and now.”

Sehn spoke, and his voice was but a whisper. “Is that so?” he said. “Well, Cah’lia can’t marry a dead man, can she?”

Patrick ran to Sehn, sword drawn, alarmed. Sehn’s expression had changed, no longer holding the arrogance that Patrick had come to know and sometimes even appreciate. Patrick had seen it fade, and in situations of great danger, reduce to almost nothing, but for the first time since Patrick had met him, Sehn did not look like Sehn. He looked like a man ready to die for something greater than himself. The situation was escalating faster than Patrick could control.

He stopped running when he reached Sehn. “Sehn,” he said, improvising. Sehn was one to be easily distracted, he had to act quickly. “I’m better than you at skipping rocks along the pond!”

Sehn looked at him, but unlike his normal self, he only shrugged. “Whatever,” he whispered. “Stand aside, Patrick. I’m going to slit his fucking throat and drink his blood.”

Cah’lia fell to her knees, fright on her face. “What’s wrong with him?” she asked. “Sehn just ignored a challenge. I don’t understand.”

“It’s you,” Patrick said. “Saerith is challenging Sehn’s right to you, and right now he can’t hear a word either of us says. Prince Saerith, please, you must stop this. Do you realize what you’re about to sacrifice for the most foolish of reasons?”

“Foolish reasons? You’re the only fool, Patrick. A prince must never show weakness before his subjects, not if he wishes to remain a prince.”

Patrick raised his blade. “I can see that words have no meaning to you.”

“Step aside, Patrick. I don’t know how these things work, but if you get involved, you’ll cause trouble for all of your Humans, won’t you?”

Patrick blinked. “Well yes, but, I can’t just allow you to—”

“I’m settling this by myself.”

Patrick was taken aback by the rage that both of the Elves held toward each other. “Princess Saerina, will you do something please. I’m sure you must see reason.”

The young Elven princess nodded. “Indeed, but there is little I can do. Do not interfere, Patrick.”

She walked over and whispered into his ear. “Neither of them will be hurt, you must trust me. I promise you this as princess of the Elven race. Do not take my brother’s words for genuine.”

“Shouldn’t we tell Cah’lia?” he whispered back.

“She already knows.”

******

Sehn felt the desire for murder from deep within, in a way he’d never felt towards anyone else. Pictures began flooding his mind. He pictured Cah’lia and Prince Saerith, kissing, doing other unspeakable acts, laughing at his armless and legless body screaming in the corner.

The rage Sehn felt was cold, nothing more than an overwhelming desire to slaughter. With each glance at the prince, Sehn felt his hatred grow. He didn’t even understand why, but he was powerless to fight against his emotions.

Cah’lia, Sehn thought. Cah’lia

At first Sehn felt a small bit of triumph, upon hearing Cah’lia announce that she would never be interested in the prince. It turned quickly to terror, and then outrage, when the prince decreed that Cah’lia was to wed him regardless. Sehn would normally be disgusted by the idea of someone other than himself making decrees, yet at the moment it didn’t bother him. All he pictured in his mind was the continued image of Cah’lia and the prince, only this time they were standing in a large hall, exchanging marital vows.

Sehn gripped his blade tighter, to the point it began to hurt. He didn’t care. Saerith twirled his blade, each spin sending out bright sparks of lightning. It was Sehn who made the first move.

Sehn leaped at the prince, and with all of his might he brought his blade down on top of him, intent on slicing the Elf from forehead to knee. With a grace Sehn didn’t expect, the prince raised his blade to parry. The two weapons clashed, and Sehn shouted as electricity ran through his body.

“Gyaaah!” Sehn cried. The hair on his arms lifted up and stood on edge as the electricity traveled off of Saerith’s blade, through his own, and into his body. Sehn tried to pull back, but the electricity forced his hands to grip tighter, he was unable to move.

“Does it hurt, you buffoon? I’ll make sure I don’t kill you. I want you to watch as I make the beautiful Cah’lia mine. You will learn to respect your prince!”

Saerith pressed the blade down on top of Sehn’s, the pain intensifying. If Sehn didn’t separate the two weapons, the fight would be over before it began. It would be an early start to Sehn’s humiliation. He let the prince push his own blade more and more toward him, easing up and eating the pain as the lightning surged around his body.

Just a little more, Sehn thought. Let him think he’s weakening me.

The pain was becoming more and more intense, it was becoming unbearable. Saerith pressed down with even greater resolve, and Sehn forced himself to ease up yet again. His Elven steel was only an inch from his throat, the prince’s shimmering weapon bearing on top of him.

Sehn waited until the last possible moment, until Saerith was confident that the pain and exhaustion had gotten the better of him. With his full force, he pushed back, Saerith’s face lightning up in surprise as he was sent stumbling backward. Sehn kicked off his front foot and dashed backward, gaining as much distance as he could.

His body hurt him everywhere, his muscles twitching. Sehn still felt the sensation of electricity shooting through his body. A sense of hopelessness fell over him. How was he supposed to win a fight, when his blade couldn’t make contact with the other man’s?

Saerith laughed at him, a loud and slow guffaw. “Bow before your prince,” he laughed. Waves of blue lightning trickled off his blade, dancing along with his sickening laughs.

He charged at Sehn, swinging his blade with a reckless abandon. Saerith definitely knew that Sehn wouldn’t be able to block, or he’d repeat the crippling experience of being shocked by his lightning-infused weapon. Sehn ducked, Saerith’s blade passing narrowly over his head. He jumped back, dodging a thrust aimed at his heart. Each time the prince attacked, Sehn was forced to retreat. He was losing the fight, and he didn’t even care. His mind was far too filled with thoughts of murder and violence.

Sehn looked over at Cah’lia. There was worry in her eyes. Instead of feeling disgusted by her concern, Sehn felt emboldened by it.

There’s no way I’m gonna get my ass handed to me in front of her, Sehn thought.

An idea came to him, and his eyes widened. Of course!

He took a deep breath, and forced himself to calm down, realizing that it was his own hatred that was dulling his ability. He hated the prince with such intensity that he’d forgotten who he really was. No wonder he was being beaten so ruthlessly, he wasn’t himself.

Sehn’s tormented expression was replaced with his cocky grin. His burning hatred was replaced instead by his arrogant anger. All at once he stopped retreating, slamming his feet to the down, to stand his ground. Saerith looked surprised for a moment, but continued his assault.

Hah! Sehn thought. I’m not going to lose to this fool. He dares to challenge the Great Sehn!

“Patrick!” Sehn called out. “As soon as I finish with prince Bitchrith, I will deal with you next. You dare challenge the Great Sehn to a, umm, pond-throwing whatever the fuck it was war? Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that.”

Cah’lia’s eyes lit up, and Sehn caught them for a moment. He promised himself that never again would he allow himself to be goaded into such a terrible anger that he became blinded by it. She smiled at him, and Sehn forced himself to look away. That was the last thing he needed to see.

Saerith went in for another series of attacks, and once again Sehn met them head on. Saerith smiled, obviously believing Sehn had just handed him the victory. Once again the two blades clashed, and once again Sehn felt the unbearable shock of electricity coursing through him.

With a trembling, electrified growl, Sehn shouted through the pain. “Remmos Salas!”

A bright flame sprang into life, covering the length of Sehn’s blade in burning fire. All at once the pain came to an end, the fire and electricity creating a blinding display of light. Sehn had no idea the spell could be used in such a way. The prince backed off, and Sehn looked at his weapon with amazement.

Did I do this? Sehn thought in disbelief.

Even Patrick seemed amazed. Sehn tried swinging his blade experimentally, and the flames went along with it, casting a trailing glow of light in the direction of his swing.

The prince looked over to his sister. “Is this enough?”

Saerina nodded. “He’s a hard man to teach, but I think we’ve served our purpose.”

Cah’lia seemed to agree as well. ”That was the most terrifying few minutes of my life. Tell me it’s over now.”

Sehn had no idea what they were talking about, and he looked around in confusion. Patrick seemed to be just as confused as he did. “I don’t understand,” Patrick said. “What’s going on here?”

Prince Saerith looked over to him. “I apologize for my words earlier, Prince Vasilis. My sister informs me that there’s only one way to make Sehn learn new things, and that’s to pull on the strings of his heart.”

“We almost started a war over this, couldn’t you have informed me?”

“Again, I apologize for my sister’s rash decisions, but she thought it best kept a secret.”

Patrick sighed. “Please, don’t ever do that to me again.”

Sehn filled with a boiling anger. “So, you mean all of this was…”

“Yes,” Saerith answered. “To get you to learn something new.”

“And Cah’lia, you knew of this?”

“Not at first,” she answered blushing. “But Princess Saerina whispered it to me shortly after the prince rode over here, although I figured it out before then. Sehn, if you actually bothered to learn anything once in a while, you’d know that the prince may only marry royalty. That means,” she said with a forming grin. “You just proved to everyone here how much you love me, and you did it for no reason.”

Sehn nodded at the two of them. Then, his eyes narrowed and his face turned dark with rage. “How dare you trick the Great Sehn into learning? Prince Saerith, I shall smite you with the force of a thousand roaming Cockaliths! And you, Cah’lia, for your betrayal, when I conquer the world, all Elven women shall have their rights revoked!”

Sehn charged at Saerith, and the prince raised his blade to guard. “Very well, Sehn. I see you’re angry. Have at it.”

When the two blades clashed, the result was so magnificent, that for a moment Sehn almost forgot why he was angry. Fire and lightning shot from the blades, creating one of the most brilliant sights he’d ever seen. The two forces shot upward, intertwined, spiraling into the sky before dying out in a massive colorful burst of light.

“Fuck me, but that’s cool,” Sehn remarked.

Saerina clapped. “I’ve never seen something like that before.”

“Oh, but you’re still dead, Saerith!” Sehn renewed his assault, his blade crashing over and over against the prince’s. After a few swings, Sehn was no longer aiming for the prince’s body, distracted by the resulting magic each time the two forces clashed. Even the prince seemed transfixed. Eventually the two seemed more content to try new ways to make the magic rise and explode, and before long Nero was allowed to return and watch.

Sehn knew in the back of his mind he was supposed to be angry at something, but watching the colorful magic soar through the now dark sky, lighting up the heavens, even he couldn’t resist. When the charge of lightning had diminished from Saerith’s blade and the flames of Sehn’s began to die down, he sheathed his blade, and after a moment so did the prince.

Sehn waited until the prince’s blade was completely sheathed. “Bad idea. Remmos Salas!”

The prince screamed, his already muddy and ruined garments were set aflame, causing him to howl in pain and run in circles.

“Haha! Get fireballed you noble fuck! That’s what you get for angering your God. Now, go get me a cup of tea, servant. And don’t get any fire in it, I like my tea fire-free. Also, I demand that no one helps him put out those flames for another five minutes. He shall be burned in my righteous fury. Sehn always gets even. Remember that!”

He looked over at the Princess Saerina. She was the real trouble maker, the one who caused all of his anger and grief that day. Sehn felt his anger fading, but there was one thing he still needed to do. One person he still needed revenge on.

“Hey, princess,” he said.

“Yes, Sehn?” she answered.

“Remmos Salas!”

The ball of fire whizzed across the now dark forest. Saerina held out her hand, and caught the fire on her palm, holding it up for all to see. Sehn felt humiliated as she lifted her palm to her face, and blew it out like a candle.

“You still have much to learn,” she said. “Much indeed.”

Sehn mumbled under his breath, but at least he taught the prince a lesson. Cah’lia and Patrick ran, putting out the flames on the now genuinely angry prince.

Serves him right, Sehn thought with smirk. Did they really think I’d end the night looking like a bitch? Hah! The Great Sehn always wins!

He walked away laughing, Nero joining his side.

Chapter 26: Make it Rain

The prince refused to look at Sehn for most of the next day, which was just fine. Why should Sehn care? Okay, so maybe he did set the royal prince to every living Elf on fire, but he had it coming. After all, there was a hierarchy and Sehn was far above him.

Sehn agreed that Prince Saerith did deserve some form of respect, being a prince and all, but not nearly as much as he did. Sehn had spent most of the night figuring out the precise order of things, and he was pleased with what he’d come up with. On the lowest level there were peasants, followed by nobles. Then there were princes, and higher up kings. After that came Gods and Goddesses, followed by Greater Gods and Goddesses. Then there was a hypothetical rank that Sehn decided to include just in case it ever happened. He called it Super God, the result of all Gods and Goddesses merging together to create one massively powerful being. Finally, there was Sehn. His title was—”the supreme ruler, dictator, and arbitrator, of everything that has ever, or will ever exist, and even things that don’t,” or “tsrdaaoetheorweeaettd.” It was a difficult acronym to pronounce, but everyone would be forced to learn it by the age of two.

That wasn’t all he’d thought about, there was more, though it wasn’t something he thought of willingly. There was a deep worry in Sehn, one that he was afraid to admit even to himself, yet it kept returning. The hatred he’d felt toward Prince Saerith, it just wasn’t like him. He was ready to kill the man, to end his life and dance on his corpse. Never had Sehn felt like that, and he knew it was for more reasons than just Cah’lia. Something was changing about him, something wrong, and vile.

Sehn’s right shoulder was no longer a dull pain, but now a full-on nuisance. It wasn’t agonizing, but it hurt. His left shoulder had the dull pain now, and even one of his hips. He figured it was just more tests from his body, forcing him to prove his worth. He rolled his arms while riding his horse, trying to loosen them up.

“Yo! Sehn, what’re you doing? It looks like you’re trying to jog in place while riding. It’s funny!”

Sehn looked over to Nero, pulling up to ride beside him. It had just turned morning, and shimmering light was reflecting down into the forest, bouncing off of the tall trees.

“Hush, Nero. I am merely trying to develop a new form of exercise called the sit and jog.”

“Whoa, really!” Sehn looked on in disbelief, Nero joining him in pumping his arms. Sometimes Sehn worried for the boy—not that he cared about him or anything, but his disciple needed to be smart—but then again, he was only seven.

Cah’lia and Rina pulled up next to the two. “Rina thinks Sehn and Nero look silly,” the girl said. She was dressed in a pink blouse that Cah’lia had made for her. Since joining them, Cah’lia had gotten her a plethora of new outfits to wear, making her look like a normal Human girl. If not for her abnormal speech, she’d otherwise seem no different than any other child.

Nero grunted at her. “We’re exercising, Rina. What do you even know about the Great Sehn’s sit and jog routine?”

Rina hummed, and looked at the two with wonder. “Rina needs to be strong for Mistress Cah’lia. Rina will exercise too.”

Sehn looked on with a bewildered fascination as the two children joined him in rolling their arms around.

Can they really be this stupid? Sehn wondered.

Cah’lia looked worried, and Sehn hoped she didn’t know what was really going on. Sehn’s patience was growing thin for all of her mushy feelings of “concern” and “caring.” How dare someone feel concern for the Great Sehn!

“Sehn, it’s time for breakfast. Patrick wants us to eat while we ride.” She handed him a piece of buttered bread, and a small goblet filled with milk. Sehn munched it down, and drained his goblet in one large gulp. These days he never felt hunger anymore, but if he forced himself to eat quickly it wasn’t too bad.

Sehn reached over to hand Cah’lia back the goblet, but she remained frozen. Her eyes were growing moist, and Sehn wondered what it was this time.

“You’re not putting up a fight?” Cah’lia asked. “About eating, or about Patrick making an order without your permission?” Sehn didn’t understand the woman. She was getting what she wanted, and now she looked sad for it.

“I’ll get you back for it next time,” Sehn grumbled. “It’s too early in the morning.”

Cah’lia’s lips quivered, in the single most alarming expression of concern Sehn had seen from her. “I see,” she whispered, riding away.

What was that about? Sehn wondered.

They rode for the next few hours in silence, eager to cross the last stretch of land and be out of the Jinkar forest. By noon, they could see the clearing up ahead. Sehn was certain that every last one of them wanted to finally be free of the biting insects, the muddy ground, and the constant darkness of the wretched forest. Sleeping at night was almost impossible, because the animals were so loud come night that it almost seemed they were intentionally trying to be annoying. Cah’lia had ran after Sehn almost three nights in a row, when he’d wanted to run off and kill whatever was making such Gods-awful howling sounds.

Nero’s ears wobbled and his face lit up with delight, ready to see a new place. It was always the same with him, Sehn noticed. Every time there was a new change of scenery, the boy did the same two gestures. Sehn had heard stories about the valley they’d arrive at in just a few more moments, and he was worried Nero might suffer a heart attack after he saw it.

Sehn intentionally rode as far away from Patrick and Saerith as possible. It was nauseating, the way the two exchanged pleasantries since the incident the night before. Patrick and Saerith had said fowl words to each other, words they both regretted. So now, they spent the entire day being extra formal, and saying things like—”Good morning, my most esteemed, wonderful, and handsome Prince Saerith, future-king and light of the Elven people.” Then, Saerith would say something similar back. Just about every one of their sentences started that way, and Sehn couldn’t bear to hear another word of it.

If nothing else, it convinced Sehn of one thing. When he conquered the world, all politicians would be required to use vulgarity and informal dialogue at all times. When court was in session, Sehn would settle every dispute in favor of the person who yelled the loudest, and showed the greatest amount of disrespect and cruelty toward his peers.

It took a few minutes longer to exit the forest than expected, the wagon getting stuck behind another soft patch of land. When they were able to navigate the last stretch of forest and exit into the Valley of Hahl, Sehn thought it might be him to suffer the heart attack.

It was like a place out of a dream. For miles there was stretch of grassy-land, covered with colorful and bright plants from the deepest corners of imagination. Stretching beyond sight into the distance, were a multitude of snow-topped mountains reaching into the sky. Cows and other cattle roamed the area freely, while wolves and other animals of prey awaited pristine opportunities to snatch their dinner.

There were birds of colors Sehn had never seen on winged creatures. Large, red, hawk-like animals flew in the sky, some as big as an Elf or Human, with wing spans that stretched almost ten feet. The most astonishing sight though, was the mountain only a few miles into the distance. A massive waterfall from what seemed to begin in the sky, rushed down the side of its slope, emptying out into a sparkling river.

“Wow,” Nero whispered, trying to look in every direction at once. Even Cah’lia, Rina, and the Humans, halted to take in the sights.

“It never gets old,” Patrick said riding up alongside them. “On any journey, the Valley of Hahl is always the most enjoyable to cross. The rivers all around the mountains give the area a comforting breeze, so it’s never too hot. And on colder months there’s hot springs around. This truly is one of the most beautiful lands controlled by my Kingdom.”

“It is quite lovely, my good and noble Prince Vasilis, champion of the Human race, and lord of the Seven Pillars.”

Sehn tuned out the rest, refusing to hear more of their flowery bullshit speech. Something was going to have to be done about those two, because the way things were going Sehn was on track to murder them both.

He spat on the ground just thinking about it. “It’s so lovely,” Sehn mimicked. “Don’t you think so, Lord Nero? Champion of Dwarven Throw and Catch, mighty disciple of the Great Sehn, bringer of bravery and stability.”

Nero laughed and clapped. “Haha! That’s funny, Great Sehn, king of the world.”

Sehn glared at him, filled with outrage. “Nero! How dare you make mine less…good than I made yours! Do it over.”

“Umm, I can’t think of anything else, Sehn. I’m not good at this.”

Sehn ripped a parchment from the bag tied around his horse, and hastily scribbled on it. He wasn’t about to be disrespected. He passed it to Nero. “Here,” he said.

“Ah, okay. What I meant to say, was—‘Haha! That’s funny, Great Sehn, ruler of the world, God-king to all living beings, and Dragon-master with unlimited power and skill. Slayer of green things, fire-sword handler, and defeater of stupid Prince Saerith’s who were only doing okay until I took out my fire-sword thing.’ Sehn, this goes on for a long time, do I really have to say all of this?”

“Peh! I don’t care, finish it later. Just make sure you remember it in case we need it again.”

Nero nodded and held onto the paper, while Sehn dismounted and stretched his legs. He wanted to keep moving, but already he could see the Princess Saerina riding over to them. Every time she approached them, it usually meant they were taking a break. Cah’lia rode with her.

“Nero,” she said with a smile. Today she was wearing a purple gown, adorned with rose petals on the sleeves. “Today I’m going to teach you the rain spell I promised.”

Sehn was almost knocked over as Nero jumped off of his horse, and charged the woman in a maddening dash. “Hey, watch it!” Sehn called.

“Hurray!” he cheered. “I’m going to learn a magic thing. Magic is so cool!”

Princess Saerina gave his wobbly ears a pinch, a gesture reserved for children. All the races seemed to have one of their own, Sehn recalled. On more than a few occasions he’d seen Humans pinch the cheeks of their little ones, and sometimes ruffled their hair.

Cah’lia walked toward Sehn, with a sly grin forming. “You agreed, remember? You have to learn, too.”

Sehn stomped on the ground, and crossed his arms. “No! That’s bullshit. The fire-sword thing should count as me learning something.”

“Yes,” Cah’lia answered. “But we agreed that you would specifically learn this one with Nero. You learned the other thing because you were stupid.”

“How dare you call the Great Sehn stupid! Just for that, I will in fact learn to make it rain, Cah’lia. Then, I shall follow you around all day with a fucking storm cloud and ruin all of your fine clothing. You’ll never be dry again.”

Cah’lia didn’t seem to worry about his threat, causing Sehn to hiss with anger. He walked over to Nero, the soft grass flattening under his feet. Being just past noon, the sun was in its high position, and the combination of the cool breeze off of the mountains, and the natural heat, mixed to create a wonderful feeling of fresh air.

Saerina placed her hands behind her back, and strutted back and forth, giving both of them cursory glances before she spoke. “I’d usually like to start by saying, ‘as I’m sure you know’ but with you two that wouldn’t be appropriate.”

Cah’lia chuckled, but Sehn ignored it. “So, as I’m sure you don’t know, spellcasting is broken down based upon its elements. You already know Remmos, or flame, and from what I’ve seen, Sehn, you’ve tinkered with Ralos, or earth. Yesterday, you witnessed my brother use Mallos, one of the three variants of lightning. Today, you will learn—”

“Whoa, it’s really that simple!” Nero exclaimed. “Mallos REHL” he shouted.

Cah’lia gasped, and Sehn jumped out of the way, before the fool killed them all. Saerina didn’t move. She merely smiled at the small Elf. Sehn landed on his back, and looked around to see if anything happened.

“Nero! You idiot, don’t just go around trying to use magic. Hey, how come nothing happened?”

Saerina was more than happy to answer. “One cannot cast a spell simply because they know the words. No, that would be impossible.”

“Then how did my brother cast the fire one?” Cah’lia asked.

“Because of Sehn,” Saerina grinned. “Nero has been around him for a very long time, and whether he realized it or not, he’s been learning it every day. Each time Sehn casted it, Nero’s mind picked up on it. He’s probably had the ability to use Remmos for months.”

Nero looked disappointed. “So…so I can’t just use anything?”

Saerina leaned in and kissed him on the forehead, causing him to blush. “Not until you’ve spent time practicing, little Nero.” She clapped her hands together. “Now, let’s begin. This is a very easy spell, and I think you’ll pick it up rather quickly. Kallas, is the first variant of rain. Kallas MAHR, is the conjugation for this form.”

“Wait a minute,” Cah’lia said. “Isn’t that the word Sehn uses when he makes the ground collapse or shake?”

“It is indeed,” Saerina answered. “None among you is ready to understand requests just yet. So, for the time being accept my words as truth. Give it a go, Nero.”

Nero looked to the sky. “But there are no clouds out today.”

Saerina made a shooing gesture, and Nero shrugged. “Okay! I’ll try.” Nero extended both of his hands to the sky, raising them above his head. “Kallas MAHR!” he shouted.

For a moment nothing happened, and Nero looked disappointed. Then, after a few more seconds, only several feet above his head, a tiny little cloud began to form. It was a small thing, but it was still a cloud. Even Sehn was amazed, it was the first time he’d seen a cloud anywhere but in the sky.

Small drops of water poured from it, and Nero laughed in delight, his face soon after becoming drenched. For nearly ten full seconds it poured rainwater on him, before disappearing.

“Is it possible to never go thirsty again?” Nero asked, cheer in his voice.

“That’s one of its uses, yes,” Saerina answered. Sehn could tell she was happy that Nero was taking such an interest in magic. She seemed to enjoy teaching it. “You try now, Sehn.” Patrick, Daniel, and Rillith, had all come over to watch the lesson.

Sehn looked to the sky, and laughed. “Get ready sky! Sehn’s coming.” He raised his hands above his head, and turned to look at Nero. “Let the master show you how it’s done.” Nero’s face beamed, and he cheered Sehn on.

“Kallas MAHR!” Sehn roared, in his most dramatic spellcasting voice. There were “oohs” and “ahs” all around, everyone waiting to see what the Mighty Sehn would conjure.

Hah! Sehn thought. I just hope I don’t accidentally drown us all.

There was a silence as they all waited, nothing seeming to happen. After a few minutes Sehn began to sweat, wondering what was happening, and why his great storm clouds had not yet shown. “Just give it time,” Sehn murmured with worry in his voice. “I’m sure it’ll be here any minute now.”

“Actually,” Saerina said. “It’s already happened. Look, up in the sky.”

Sehn looked up, praying to see a massive storm cloud with the potential of flooding a nation. Instead, what he saw horrified him. “It’s beautiful!” Cah’lia said clapping, Rina along with her. Sehn’s face turned red, then blue, wondering if he’d die from the embarrassment and shame. Even Nero didn’t know what to say. Daniel began laughing hysterically.

“Oh, wow,” Daniel managed in-between maniacal bursts of laughter. “Did the Great Sehn just make a rainbow?”

Sehn felt his heart stop. Running across the sky, was the last thing in the world Sehn would ever want to make, a bright and vivid rainbow, reaching from mountain to mountain. Sehn gulped. He needed to find some excuse, and needed to find it now. “Y-yes,” Sehn replied. “The Great Sehn has made a rainbow! A…a rainbow of death! All birds that fly into it shall be destroyed, their feathers burnt to a crisp.”

As if nature was mocking him, a flock of eagles soared through it. They didn’t just stop, either, they doubled back, and flew through it a second time, before exiting it a third.

“E-except for that time,” Sehn improvised. “The death effect only happens after it has solidified…which takes about thirty more seconds.”

Thirty seconds later, another flock of birds flew through, and this time they all gave Sehn a questioning glance, even Nero.

“W-well you see I, umm, well. Fuck you all!” Sehn marched away, humiliated and angry.