I’m not bad looking,” Kairos mumbled to himself while studying the young, dark-featured man in the mirror—not bad looking at all with his long black hair pulled tight and tied. The white-collar on his robe accented his dark complexion and emphasized the whites of his eyes. He contorted his face in a series of peculiar expressions. Delivery meant everything when one practiced wizardry—a snap of the fingers, the roll of his eyes, a snarl—the way he spat out his words could determine the effect of his spells. He rubbed his chin, hoping for signs of stubble and finding none. A beard would be beneficial, but his father had also lacked suitable facial hair for a wizard. Perhaps destiny kept him clean-faced. He shrugged. Rhea didn’t like beards, or so she swore. She had complimented him more than once on his dark “mysterious” eyes though. He moved closer to his image to take a better look, but his breath fogged over his likeness.

“I don’t see it,” he whispered and wiped the dampness with his sleeve. “No, but if she likes my mysterious eyes, that’s good enough for me.”

He inhaled and stepped away. Time to work. All his analysis of his father’s notes and charts and books and journals had to make a difference. King Tobias meant what he said. Being caged in this tower without Rhea wouldn’t be any better than being sealed in the dungeon without food—an inhumane punishment that would be his demise! He sighed, shaking his head clear of her image.

Rolling up his sleeves, he strolled to the chest-tall table overcrowded with vials and decanters. Flasks filled with fluid metals, oils, and vapors—substances he himself had conjured. Recipes passed down from his great grandfather. The secret to Alchemy did not lie wholly in the mixture of gold and tinctures as most people thought but in the mind of he who blended them. A sensitive balance of energies co-mingling with one another to create the perfect result.

In this case, killing a flying demon.

He’d been working days on this concoction. Sleepless nights triggered fatigue, frustration prompted weariness, yet he pressed on. Alas, days of not seeing Rhea added to his despondency. He set a vial down and closed his eyes. Golden hair flashed through his mind, eyelashes tickling his nose, soft skin under his fingers. The vial in his hand heated. Startled, he woke himself from his daydream and inhaled deeply.

“Work, Kairos,” he scolded himself. “Work first and then your reward.” He gathered his notebook and his potions and laid them on the table. “Yes!” he exclaimed. “The spell is ready to evaluate!”

Kairos took off his robe and hung it on a hook by the door. He slipped on a pair of leather gloves. Dusting off an ancient bamboo bird cage, a net he had borrowed from an old fisher some years past, and a lantern, he slipped out of the room into the dark stairwell. With only the flickering flame of a burning wick to see by, he ascended the stairs to the hoarding. The higher he climbed, the narrower the passage, and the mustier the air. The last tapered rung ended at a low oak door, sealed with an iron bolt. Kairos set his tools on the step below him, fixed the lantern on a hook on the wall, and released the lock. The door creaked as it opened and cold, moldy air immediately chilled his whisker-less face. He coughed, and when he caught his breath, he retrieved his things and entered.

The soldiers had built the hoarding during the siege of Menhaden, a border township on the river between Casdamian and the Potamian dominion. In retribution of Potama’s victory, the devils came for the castle near a hundred years ago with their hordes of goblins. The invasion had been short-lived, and King Tobias’ great grandfather defeated the onslaught.

Weathered from storms that blew in from the coast, they should have dismantled the rotten wood which once protected the castle from enemy fire. However, no one felt the urgency to do the work since no one has stormed the castle for a full generation. Should an enemy arise and attack King Tobias’ palace, they’d build a new one. This one, ah yes, this one provided a perfect breeding ground for Kairos’ specimens.

He crawled through the oak ingress onto the platform, checking the planks vigilantly. If they were completely rotten and gave way under his weight, he’d fall to a brutal death. He needn’t go far, though. Just above him in the rafters hung his prey. Kairos set the bird cage near the supporting beams by the door, stepped onto the first two planks, and bent his body around the timbers. He reached into a cleft between the boards with both of his hands and grabbed the warm body of a bat, pulling the creature from its nesting place. The creature fought, biting at his gloves, but Kairos, though he lost his balance and nearly fell, tossed the bat into the cage without incident. He scrambled for his footing and again saved himself from plummeting into the courtyard below. With the cage door securely shut, he collapsed on the floor, panting.

“All right,” he said to the bat. “I have chosen you to be the great sacrifice for humankind, little fellow.”

The creature flapped in panic from side to side of the cage, beating itself against the bamboo bars. Kairos spoke softly to the bat while sliding through the door. He set his newly captured varmint down on the rung and bolted the hoarding door shut. With the cage and net in hand, he lifted the lantern off the hook and descended the narrow hallway back to his study.

Kairos hated to sacrifice animals, but in this case, since there were no skura to work on, the bat would have to do. Were his spell to work, it would save many people and a sheep or two as well. Back in his quarters, he pouted as he placed the cage on the table and bent over to study his captive.

“I really don’t enjoy doing this, you know?” he whispered to the bat as he pulled off his gloves. “But the King asked me to come up with something that would put an end to the demons. The only way I can find out if it works is by....” He bit his lip, pulled a hankie from his pocket, and blew his nose. “Is by testing it out on you. If you’re lucky, it won’t work.”

Kairos put on his robe, still talking to the bat which had crawled to the top of the cage and hung upside down.

“And judging from my track record, the odds are in your favor.” He picked up a vial of bubbling liquid that had been brewing on his desk just as a gentle tap at his door interrupted him.

“Come in, come in.” He glanced at Erika as she entered the room. “I’m about ready to perform some sort of, I don’t know, some sort of miracle,” he informed her, still busying himself. “If it works, that would be the miracle.”

“The magic that my father needs for Tellwater?”

“Yes, yes, that’s what I’m trying to do. Trying, mind you.” He held up the vial for her to see and set it on his desk. He cleared a space in the middle of the room, moving a heavy wooden chair, several leather-bound journals, a broomstick, and an end table. “You may come in, find yourself a corner.” He looked up. “How is your sister?”

“Rhea? She’s fine.”

“Has she asked about me? At all?”

Erika shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t much talk to her. If she wanted to see you, she’d be here, wouldn’t she?”

“Your father won’t let her. Not until I’m done.”

“Makes sense.”

Kairos scowled at her.

“Well, we need this…this whatever you’re doing. There’s a war going on, Kairos. People are dying. You wouldn’t believe the horror we experienced. Not just the skura, but the mountain giants. You’re so sheltered here at the castle. Have you ever seen a skura, Kairos?”

Kairos heard her talking but paid little attention, too busy hanging the poor bat’s cage from a beam in the center of the room. Erika stepped back while Kairos stood on a stool and tied the cage to the rafters. He hurriedly stepped down, removed the stool, and then pick up the vial. Making a face, he dropped a dollop on his tongue, spread his arms and closed his eyes.

“Take this,” he said with a trembling voice and shaking hands. Erika grabbed the vial from him.

The floor to his study vibrated as his fingers shook. He sensed the power rising inside of him. Yes! Control. Easy now. Not too much. Remember poor Father. He opened one eye, his fingers glowed. He stepped forward and opened the door to the cage. The bat didn’t move. Kairos shook the cage a little. “Come on, fly, you wretched beast,” he growled.

Kairos tipped the bottom to the coop. The bat clenched its perch tighter. More frustrated than angry, Kairos shook the bird cage harder and finally, the bat swooped out into the room. With a quick incantation, Kairos flicked his wrist in the air, a vapor emitted from his fingers, forming a cloud that swallowed the bat, and with a minor explosion, the cloud and bat disappeared.

A moment of silence followed.

Kairos held his breath, mouth open. His heart raced. No, his heart burned. No! He couldn’t be having heart failure. Excitement triggered the rapid beating in his chest. He did it?

The fear subsided when Erika set the vial down and applauded.

“You did it!”

Kairos shook his head, exhaling. “Yes! Poor devil, I did, didn’t I?” He had his notes, the potions, the magic, a witness, to present to the king. “Rhea, my love, I am yours!”