Walking Through Shadows

Master Orlaigh lifted his eyes from the papers on his desk and looked out of his study window. For some reason, he was struggling to concentrate this afternoon.

As chief mage to the court of King Taral Shadowbane, Orlaigh was tasked with many things. Lately, his main concern had been the school for nobles that the King had put him in charge of. For too long, the noble classes had been barely literate. The previous incumbent had been more concerned with training students in the art of battle rather than decent penmanship and the King had decided that it was shaming to him that noble families had to employ private tutors rather than them receiving their education at the school as was the custom.

With this in mind, King Taral had approached Orlaigh and phrased his request with such diplomacy that Orlaigh had smiled and held his hands up, knowing that he was beaten before any discussion could begin.

In the most part, Orlaigh enjoyed the work. It had taken a lot of work and, in some instances, the application of a magical flick to the odd ear...amongst other things, to get the school to the standard it should have been. He chuckled as he remembered the reaction of the master of protocol as he'd felt the bite of a magical lash to the back of his legs after he had made one complaint too many about the fact that people who were from merchant families were mixing with royalty...or some such nonsense. If he was honest with himself, Orlaigh had stopped listening after the man's first few complaints. All he remembered was looking into that puffed up, self-important face and losing the little patience he had left. Seeing the pompous twit yelp and leap about had been a bright point in a very grey few weeks.

However, all that was in the past. A few more signatures on a few more bits of paperwork and the mage could go back to his own studies for a little while, leaving the new staff he had brought in to run the place. If anyone asked, he could always say that he was leaving them to it to see how they fared.

The thought of getting back to the work he loved made Orlaigh smile and he bent his head to his current work with a will. Within an hour he had everything finished. Summoning a servant, he dispatched his papers to the relevant people and rose to stand at his window. Looking out over the forest to the west, Orlaigh felt a warmth and a peace sweep over him. Without warning, the feeling intensified and he felt a touch on his mind. Sagging against the windowsill, Orlaigh frantically tried to trace the direction the feeling came from in order to send back an attack of his own when he realised that this was no attack. The feeling was a call, and a familiar one at that. Orlaigh fell to his knees, overcome by the pleasure of the feeling in his mind. There was a faint echo, a voice asking him to come and find the source of the feeling. Without thought, Orlaigh rose and headed out of his rooms. His work forgotten, he turned in the direction of the palace. His one thought was to see the king and ask, no tell his majesty that he had to go.

Arriving at the gates of the palace, Orlaigh paused. How could he tell the king that he was running off and leaving his duties to go and chase a feeling? The call in his mind repeated at that moment and the mage's resolve hardened. All but running up the steps, he burst through the castles main entrance and ran straight into... something. Orlaigh lay on the floor, stunned, and heard a deep laugh. He looked up into the eyes of King Taral and realised that the thing he'd ran into was actually the king!

"Y, your majesty...erm...I...erm...was just coming to see you" he stammered, feeling his face grow hot as he realised that several courtiers were behind the king, giggling.

"Clearly" responded Taral, dryly "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, but I need to speak to you as a matter of urgency" said Orlaigh.

"In that case, you should probably get up off the floor..."

Orlaigh realised that he was still lying at the Kings feet. Flushing again, he climbed to his feet and brushed himself off. King Taral looked at him and, taking in the mage's distracted expression and the lack of dignity that he usually carried himself with, headed towards his private study. Addressing himself to the still giggling courtiers he ordered that he not be disturbed and then beckoned for Orlaigh to follow him.

Orlaigh sighed and shook his head; this was not going to be an easy conversation. Especially as his behaviour just now would probably convince the King that he was bewitched. His mind drifted to how he was going to explain himself when he realised that the Taral had perched on the end of the desk and was looking at him with some concern

"Speak old friend, you said you had to tell me something and I hardly think that it is something so unimportant that you would come racing in here as if The Shadow itself was at your heels as you just did"

Orlaigh looked down at his feet and took a deep breath. The tentative speech he had prepared fled his mind and the story of what had happened in the last few minutes came tumbling out. As he wound down, he looked up at the King, expecting to see disbelief or concern or pity or any of a hundred other emotions in the eyes of his leader. Instead, he saw... thoughtfulness.

"You are sure it was a call that you, personally, must answer?" There was another question hidden in that one, Orlaigh was sure, but he knew that answering would bring up memories that he didn't want to think about right now.

"Yes. There is no way for me to tell you how I know, only that I do and I must go. Now. I have to leave. The task you gave me at the school is almost complete and my being here will not change anything in that respect. I have no other duties apart from my own studies and, well, I don't know. I just have to go."

"Very well. You are due a rest, not that I'm sure that this will be one. However, I cannot allow you leave this very minute" Taral raised a hand, stalling Orlaigh's protest before he could speak

"You seem to be forgetting about a certain someone my friend" continued Taral.

In his obvious haste to depart the truth just began to dawn upon Orlaigh.

"If I allow you to leave this kingdom without bidding my son farewell he will no doubt show his displeasure with unruly behaviour towards his tutors. We all know what that means now, don't we?"

As Orlaigh opened his mouth in an attempt to tactfully explain the repercussions Taral responded to what was clearly a rhetorical question. This obviously was a topic that the King felt very strongly about mused Orlaigh.

"Yes Orlaigh, word will get out and then I'll have every damned noble father in the land telly me that MY child needs a mother. Oh and what a coincidence, this father just happens to have a daughter who would be a perfect match AGAIN...you know I have only just managed to put a stop to all this nonsense."

Orlaigh smiled. The nine year old Prince Alexander was certainly strong willed.

He eyed the King and saw the sadness in his eyes. Despite not wanting to think of it, Orlaigh remembered the night of the child's birth and felt a familiar guilt wash over him. The queen and gone into labour too early and Orlaigh had been summoned. His guilt had stemmed from the fact that he had been away from the Kingdom for some months prior to the birth of the prince. A similar call had pulled him away from his duties and he had followed. He remembered only one part of that journey and he had never discussed it with Taral. He had been returned to the castle in the night, sick and weak and had spent weeks in and out of consciousness, recovering mere days before the birth. Even with all his power, he had been unable to save the queen. He had doubted that the child would make it either but, although he was small, he had fought.

After three days spent over the child's crib, Orlaigh had gone to the King to tell him that the child would survive. He had felt so much guilt and was sure that he would be cast out. He hadn't been sure that Taral would accept the child after the death of the Kings love but he knew that he would need to tell him himself what had happened.

King Taral had looked at him with dead eyes that night. He had felt that his own heart had stopped along with that of his wife's and that the mage had only come to add to his suffering with the news of the death of his infant son. Instead, the mage had told him that the child lived! Rising, the King had ran to the nursery and scooped the child into his arms. Then, he had whispered the oath of Kings and his own love into the boys ear.

The Kings mourning had taken its toll on the nation, although all had rejoiced in the news of an heir. As soon as they had felt it decent, Nobles across the land had come to present their daughters to the King, hoping for a match that would secure them more power. In the end, Taral had declared that he would not take a wife again until his son was old enough to accept it.

Although the declaration had worked, Prince Alexander was known to be a handful and word of his tantrums would get out occasionally, prompting a new round of Nobles and daughters to come to palace, convinced that the child needed a mother and they could provide such. Matters had not improved with age. Although no longer prone to tantrums, the young prince was just as strong willed and definitely mischievous!

The King sighed, jolting Orlaigh out of his memories.

"Orlaigh, is this something to do with the last call you had?" He asked

"Yes"

"Will you ever tell me what happened when you left us?"

Orlaigh paused. The one memory he had was of something beautiful and amazing and so cherished in his heart that he felt that to speak of it would be to sully it.

"I honestly don't think I can. There is only one part of that journey that I remember and it is not something to discuss with anyone. All I can say is that I have to go and finish what I started and I do not know how long it will take."

Orlaigh paused again; although he knew that nothing would have saved the queen, he had always wondered if the King had blamed his illness for the loss of his love.

"Your Majesty, I know that I came back last time as if I were a broken man. I was not, although it seemed so. I know that the timing was bad and if I could go back and change things I would. I never meant for Alyana to...die" Orlaigh trailed off. This was as close to speaking of his guilt as he had ever come.

"Shadows blood, man! I have never blamed you for anything. Do you think that I would have kept you at my side if I thought you hadn't done everything you could to save her? You are like a brother to me and I know that you loved Alyana as if she were your sister. I have never, ever blamed you and I will not have you blame yourself!"

Crossing the room, Taral took the mage's hand. He didn't need to say more. The look on his face showed the love he held for his friend and the understanding he felt for his friends guilt.

"Thank you Taral. I have thought a lot about that night and I know that I could do no more whether I had been well or not. Despite that, the guilt was always there. I am sorry to burden you again but this is important."

"Then go and take my blessing. Pack well and be safe. I have to go and be complained at by one of the southern lords. Remember to say farewell to Xander and come back quickly and safely."

With that and a quick squeeze of the mage's shoulder, Taral left, rolling his eyes and muttering over lords who couldn't command themselves to get in the bath, never mind a whole region. Orlaigh smiled at his friends back and shook his head. No doubt his Majesty would handle the lord with perfect tact and diplomacy as he always did but he knew that if this lord caused too much trouble, Taral would not hesitate to put his into his place, by force if necessary. Taral held the nation because of strength as much as diplomacy and was never afraid to prove his reputation.

Smiling again at the thought of this lord getting on the wrong side of his friend, Orlaigh left to return to his apartments and make preparations for his journey.