It's Just Magic

Breaking Free

Edendir walked the corridors of his father's palace quickly. It was midnight, the two blue moons shining high in the red sky. Massive bats flew in the sky, rats on their backs. The guards strolled beneath their winged beasts, horned armour glinting in the moonlight.

A noise echoed down the stone corridor and Edendir froze. He was a prince in his world but couldn't face the responsibility and power. His father was ready to step down and give his son a chance to rule but Edendir didn't want to be judged at such a young age. So he was making his escape, hiding in the dead of night, aiming to reach the human world.

The scratching noise sounded again and Edendir began to back away, searching for another exit. All the secret passages were too dark for even his elf senses to penetrate and there were so many it was certain he'd get lost.

The prince gulped and slid behind a statue of a legendary warrior. All the statues in the palace were of knights and soldiers, people who had died in battle or come home covered in their enemies' blood. Edendir hated that fact; he wanted statues of magicians, of great warlocks and sorcerers who had been hung or burnt for standing up for others. Witches were allowed right of way but warlocks were scorned, most elves believing that magic was a woman's craft. Good for feminists, not for Edendir.

A guard strode past the statue and the prince held his breath. Guards were hand-selected for their skills and senses and all inside the palace were primed in sniffing out fear and guilt.

The stench of rotting meat and vanilla invaded Edendir's nostrils and he held back a sneeze. The odour told him that this was Ragua, the head of the guards. He was feared all through the kingdom and stabbed first, asked questions later.

Ragua passed a quivering Edendir by and the boy breathed again. Before the chief of elfin police returned Edendir ran, soft-soled shoes making no noise on the floor.

With two bags bouncing on his shoulder, one full of props and one empty, Edendir skidded into the palace kitchens. At night it was an eerie place, cold and silent. Edendir didn't care - he needed food and without Cookie harassing him he could grab what he needed quicker.

The room was dim and taken up mainly by two long, oak tables for preparing food. Knifes and other utensils were laid out neatly in rows, blades and other Elfium sparkling, even in the dark. The crystal handles were smooth to the touch and Edendir considered taking a knife or two for protection. He recalled an old lesson in human laws and shook his head. Blades were prohibited and he could get exiled for carrying them. Exiled? No, arrested.

As he left the vast cellar Edendir hesitated. He snatched a handful of herbs and shoved some white pebbles into his pocket, ideal for casting spells in helping him reach the human world.

"Who's there?" a gruff voice barked. Edendir froze in the doorway, bags held in a curled fist. The voice had come from behind him and footsteps marched across the room towards the prince.

"It is I," Edendir replied, mustering all the authority he had and turning around. The old watchman nodded and bowed his head, lizard tongue constantly scenting the air.

"My apologies," he hissed. "I will continue on my way, sir."

The creature vanished back into the darkness and Edendir placed a pebble on the doorstep. The only way the watchman could leave the room was via the door and the second he stepped out he would lose his memory of ever seeing Edendir that night.

The prince continued on his way with no more interruptions or detours. As he walked he counted in his head, ticking off everything that he would need. Human money, stolen from the palace banks? Check. Deck of cards? In his right pocket. Food? Left rucksack. Other magic props? Right-hand bag. Everything was where it was supposed to be but Edendir stopped, frowning. He'd forgotten something.