The Northern Border

“Let’s head for the northern border,” Prince Gareth decided, urging his horse into a trot. “I’m feeling in the mood for deer.”

Together, the two friends spurred their horses forward, disappearing through the palace gates in a flurry of dust.

A herd of deer was grazing at a clearing when they sensed a presence. They scatter in one direction into the woods.

“It’s weird,” Roderick said as the two rode their horses.

Gareth looked up at the trees as the gentle breeze blew through the silent scene. There were no bird chirps or insect chatter—just the sounds of their nervous horses’ steps. “I know. No animals at all. Not a sight or sound.” He glanced at Roderick. “You want to know the strangest part? My magic senses are on high alert. I feel this… powerful magic source coming from all directions.”

Roderick’s face darkened at Gareth’s words. Magic, especially powerful magic, didn’t just “hang in the air.” It usually had a source, a focus. The sudden silence and unnatural stillness only added to the growing problem.

“We should turn back,” Roderick suggested. His voice was barely a whisper. “This is something the royal guards can handle.”

But Gareth had already got off his horse and unsheathed his sword. They were by the edge of the clearing where the deer once were. “You’re free to go if you think it’s best, but I’m finding this source before it makes itself scarce. Bringing it back to the kingdom will shut the High Priest up and provide an undeniable path to the paladin class.”

Roderick sighed as he dismounted from his horse. “If this source kills us, remind me to smack your head.”

Gareth chuckled lightly at Roderick’s quip, though he knew his friend was serious about the danger they might face. “Don’t worry, we’ll be careful,” he assured Roderick. “But if we can capture this source, it could be the breakthrough I need.”

Gareth plunged into the dense foliage at the clearing’s edge. Roderick let out another groan. It was hard not to admire his friend’s impulsiveness, even if it would lead to less desirable outcomes. He tethered their horses and followed cautiously, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger.

The silence was unnerving as the two young men walked deeper into the clearing. It was almost as if the forest itself was holding its breath and waiting for something.

As they walked, Gareth concentrated on the magic he could feel around them, trying to pinpoint its origin. It was difficult. The energy seemed to be everywhere, surrounding them like a mist. But slowly, Gareth began to sense a direction, a pull toward the north.

“This way,” he said, motioning for Roderick to follow him. “The source is somewhere in this direction.”

Roderick nodded, following Gareth’s lead as they pressed on. The air grew colder as they moved deeper into the clearing, and the magic around them intensified.

“I think we found the source.” Roderick stopped and pointed to a hole in the ground.

Gareth agreed. “Whatever magic I’m feeling, it’s coming from there.”

“Great, now that we have found the source, we can inform the royal guards, and they can deal with this mess.” However, Gareth remained unmoved as Roderick stepped back. Roderick scoffed. “You’re not serious, are you? We don’t even have climbing gear.”

A slow grin spread across Gareth’s face. “You’re a wizard class. Cast a rope trick and send me down there.”

Roderick eyed the gaping hole. A cart, maybe even a carriage, could fit down there. The young man held his nose. It reeked of damp earth and something else he didn’t know if he wanted to know. He looked back at Gareth, whose grin didn’t inspire confidence.

Roderick muttered a curse under his breath, wishing his friend had a touch more caution. Nevertheless, he drew upon his magical abilities, concentrating on the intricate motions of a rope trick. With a flick of his wrist and a muttered incantation, a length of enchanted rope sprang into existence, anchoring itself securely at a nearby tree to the edge of the hole.

The rope hung down, disappearing into the darkness below. Gareth’s grin widened, and he gave Roderick a nod of approval. “Nice work. You’re more talented than you give yourself credit for.”

Roderick snorted, “I could say the same for your lack of judgment.” He grabbed the rope and gave it a tug to ensure it was secure. “You’d better not get yourself killed down there. Promise me that you’ll return, Prince Gareth.”

“Always the drama queen, Roderick. But I promise,” Gareth said confidently as he secured his sword. “You keep watch up here and shout if you see anything out of the ordinary.”

With a final, nervous glance at Roderick, Gareth swung his legs over the edge of the hole and began his descent. The rope trick seemed to hold steady as he lowered himself down into the darkness.

The golden rope shimmered faintly, casting a soft glow into the darkness as Gareth lowered himself deeper. Roderick watched the rope closely, paying close attention to any sign of struggle or distress. He couldn’t help but worry about what Gareth might encounter down there.

As Gareth descended, he found himself surrounded by walls of moist, moss-covered earth. The stench of dampness grew stronger, and the air grew colder. His breath formed small clouds in the frigid air. He could feel his head aching as his magic senses reached its peak. He was getting closer to the source of the magical energy, but he couldn’t yet see anything significant.

Suddenly, Gareth felt nothing. All the magic senses he had evaporated as the golden rope flickered before disappearing. He screamed as he fell deeper inside.

Roderick looked at his empty hands with horror as his magic rope disappeared from his eyes. “Gareth!” He ran toward the gaping hole, which shrank and closed when he got there. He banged at the grassy ground where the hole had been, but it was useless. “I’ll… I’ll get the royal guards,” he shouted, more to himself than to Gareth.

***

Gareth opened his eyes or thought he did. It was so dark he couldn’t see his hands. His body was sore, but he was fortunate not to have suffered any major injuries. Standing up, Gareth looked up but couldn’t see the sky.

Instead, he was greeted with darkness that seemed to stretch endlessly in all directions. He reached out tentatively, his hand meeting nothing but the cold, damp air.

“Great,” he muttered to himself. Gareth tried to muster the strength to feel his magic senses but couldn’t feel anything. His hand felt the hilt of his sword, but swinging his weapon blindly wouldn’t do him any good.

That’s when he spotted a light in the distance. Walking toward the light, Gareth stared at a tunnel lit by torches. It had steps that led down. “On the one hand, I would be walking into a potential trap,” Gareth muttered. “But on the other hand, I could be ambushed now.” With a shrug, he made his way further down.

Gareth carefully descended the torch-lit steps, each step echoing softly in the silence. The cold air from before warmed the further he walked. It was almost comforting, but he kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, trying to ignore the feeling of powerlessness.

After what felt like forever, he reached the bottom of the steps abruptly. The tunnel opened up into a large, cavernous chamber, the walls lined with ancient carvings and runes that seemed to pulse with a faint, eerie light. His eyes were drawn to a bookshelf. It only held one book.

A voice whispered into his ears. “I’ve met warriors, princes, and magic users before, but I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting someone like you before.”

Startled, Gareth unsheathed his sword and turned to see a woman. Despite sounding as if she was right next to him, she was several feet to his left as she leaned against a wall. Her glinting eyes stared at him as a sly smile curled. “Who are you?”

“Call me Nyxie,” she said. “That’s what my friends call me.”

Nyxie’s smile did little to ease the tension in Gareth’s grip on his sword. Her attire seemed ancient yet well-kept, hinting at a timeless quality to her. “Friends?” he echoed, his voice tight. “Is that what you call trapping a man underground?”

Nyxie pushed herself off the wall and began to circle around Gareth. Her steps were slow and deliberate, her eyes never leaving him. “You’re in a place where few have ventured and even fewer have returned from.” Her voice echoed softly in the chamber. “You should be honored.”

Gareth scoffed. “Honored? Trapped in a cave with a cryptic lady who most likely stole my magic senses doesn’t incite honor.”

Nyxie stopped her circling, her smile widening. “Your magic sense is safe inside you. I just implanted a forgetful spell inside your mind to make you forget how to use it. It’s more for your protection than mine, though I didn’t intend for the magic rope to disappear, leading to your fall. I apologize for that.”

Gareth’s brow furrowed. While a part of him wanted to believe her about his magic senses being safe, the other part, the more cautious part, remained skeptical. “Protection from what?” he demanded.

Nyxie uncrossed her arms and gestured towards the bookshelf with a single, elegant hand. “From that book,” she said, her voice losing its playful touch and turning serious. “The Dark Book. It’s a corruptive magic book but will lead you back to your kingdom and give you untold power over everyone.”

“I think I’ll pass,” he said, slowly walking back toward the tunneled stairs. “Besides, if the book is so powerful, you would have used it already.”

Nyxie pouted. “Aw, but you would have so much fun with it.” She paused as her eyes turned mischievous. “You could show that High Priest he was a fool for trying to block you from entering the paladin class.”

Gareth stopped and turned toward the mysterious woman. His eyes flashed with anger. “How did you know that?”

Nyxie shrugged. “I may have read your mind while implanting that forgetful spell onto you. I like to know everything about my master.”

A cold pit formed in Gareth’s stomach. Master? “I’m no one’s master,” Gareth responded. He gripped his sword tighter, the leather creaking in protest. “Especially not yours.”

Nyxie chuckled as she strolled toward Gareth. “You finding that hole wasn’t entirely an accident. You, Prince Gareth, are the chosen one, the one destined to either wield the Dark Book’s power for good or succumb to its darkness. And I,” she inclined her head in a mock bow, “am your humble servant.”

Everything inside Gareth wanted to attack Nyxie, but he knew he couldn’t, at least not yet. Attacking a potential magic user without the aid of one’s magic was akin to entering a fistfight with your hands bound. Also, Gareth didn’t need to have his magic senses to know the Dark Book was reacting to him, as he could hear whispers coming from its direction.

“Why me?” he finally asked, crossing his arms defensively. “Why not be your own master and use the book yourself?”

Nyxie sighed dramatically. “Because, dear Gareth, I can’t. It’s no fun to corrupt someone who’s already corrupted, duh. Besides, the Dark Book chooses who wields it, and you were picked.”

“Then unpick me!”

“That’s not how it works.”

Gareth groaned in frustration. “I’m on the verge of becoming a paladin. I cannot be associated with whatever magic…”

“Dark magic,” Nyxie said with a pointed finger. “Corruptive dark magic with no bounds.”

He stared deadpanned at Nyxie’s ever-present smile. “I can’t be a paladin with dark magic.”

Nyxie crossed her arms as she scoffed. “You won’t be paladin if you’re stuck here with me and the Dark Book. Come on, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Gareth glared at Nyxie, frustrated by her disregard for the situation. “You underestimate the consequences of your suggestion. Wielding dark magic isn’t just a matter of personal choice—it’s about the safety and well-being of my kingdom and its people. I will not be responsible for leading my people down the wrong path.”

Nyxie rolled her eyes and waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, spare me the heroics. I’ve seen would-be heroes come and go, each convinced that they could resist the Dark Book’s power before succumbing to the obvious truth. You’re no different, Gareth.”

“I’m not interested in the book or its power,” Gareth said firmly. “All I want is to return home and continue my path toward becoming a paladin. That is my calling, not wielding dark magic.”

Nyxie raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Gareth’s resilience. “You’re determined, I’ll give you that. But the Dark Book has chosen you, and its influence will follow you whether you like it or not.” Gareth readied his sword at Nyxie. “But,” she said, raising her hands defensively. “I can portal you back to your kingdom.”

“And remove the forgetful spell from me?”

Nyxie sighed. “That too.”

Gareth lowered his sword. He was at least happy to hear his magic sense would be returning to him. “I’d imagine there’s a catch.”

“Of course, just a small, teensy-weensy catch. Resist the Dark Book for 24 hours. And don’t worry about anyone spotting the book or me. Only you would see us. Resist its power, and I might convince the Dark Book to look elsewhere.” She held out her hand. “Do we have a deal?”