Dark Queen

ix.

     Jurauk grunted as the wooden sword clashed with his own. His arms strained. He ducked as Soren swung the blade in an arc, and he sprung forward with a thrust, a move that his elder brother easily dodged.

     "You could do better, Jurauk," Soren taunted, slashing at his chest. Jurauk leaped backward, narrowly missing being scraped. He thought about kicking Soren's shins but decided that he'd rather keep good balance. His eyes stung with sweat.

     The other sword slammed into his own, and Soren pushed down hard. The blade grew closer and closer to Jurauk's face, but at the last second, Jurauk rammed his head into Soren's.

     Surprised, the older Nefari stumbled, and Jurauk took this opportunity to whack his hand, forcing him to let go of his sword. Triumphantly, he held the sword's point to Soren's neck as the other man glared daggers. He picked himself off the floor, and without another word, stormed out training room.

     Vladislav let out a low whistle as he polished his gleaming blade, having witnessed the entire fight. "It's pretty rare for you to win, huh?" he commented cheerfully.

     Jurauk collapsed onto the wooden bench. Sweat drenched his back and ran in cold trickles down his bare chest. His dark red hair was matted against his glistening forehead, and he wiped away the salty drops. A servant quickly passed him a flask of icy water, and another wrapped a towel around his corded neck.

"Don't even mention that," he grumbled, gulping down cold bliss. "Soren already reminds me enough, being the ass that he is."

Vlad let out a hearty chuckle, lifting his sword to check for any nicks. "You two are too competitive for the entirety of Ledzemok. I'd be surprised if this country didn't go up in flames from the animosity between both of you." He leaned against the wall, arms folded across his well-sculpted chest.

"Say, your birthday is coming up soon, eh?" Vlad asked. Jurauk rolled his eyes. As if the Nefari population didn't know already.

"Yes, Vlad," he replied. "I thought you of all people would know." Vladislav spread his hands in a placating gesture.

"I'm old, little Prince. What can I say?"

Jurauk lightly punched him on the arm. "You liar," he teased. "First off, I'm not little anymore, so your nickname won't work. Second, you're only thirty. That's hardly old by anyone's standards."

Vlad pretended to look distraught, gently stroking his strong jawline. "But alas, my face has been besieged by wrinkles and moles," he moaned.

Jurauk snorted. "No wonder the women stay as far away as possible from you. You look horrendous." Of course, that was a lie. Truth be told, Vlad could still pass off as a man in his early twenties; he appeared to be much younger. The ladies did not stay away, much to Jurauk's disappointment. Vlad's bright hair and oceanic eyes shone like lights, and that gold cape of his didn't help either.

When he'd been younger, Jurauk had always envied Vlad's golden cape. It was a spectacular sight of shimmering champagne silk softer than feathers. The cape always fluttered behind Vladislav, marking him as the Chief Huntsman.

Jurauk was aware that the job would fall to him in two days' time. It was tradition for the second heir to inherit the position. Vladislav was an exception, and he hold the title until Jurauk turned seventeen. Jurauk was still unsure of what exactly the job entailed.

A raven flew in and swooped onto Vlad's shoulder. It cawed.

His Royal Imperius has requested Prince Jurauk's presence. It'd be best if you hurry.

Vlad sheathed his sword. "I believe we should get going, little prince. Your father is not a forgiving man."

Jurauk slipped on a dark blue tunic and followed Vlad into the palace gardens.

For twelve years, they'd kept Jurauk's adventure a secret. Nefari children could not communicate with the ravens until they came of age. Jurauk had been over a decade younger than the magic age, yet he'd not only communicated with the ravens, but controlled them.

If word got out, many Nefari would claim that Jurauk was tainted by black magic and have him executed, prince or not.

A loud growl rumbled from his stomach, and his face flushed. Thankfully, his light brown skin helped with concealing it. Although, he noticed, a gaggle of women in heavy skirts and flirtatious fans had increased their giggling.

Vladislav threw him a sharp glance. "When did you last eat?"

"Erm, breakfast?" Jurauk lied.

Vlad clucked him tongue. "Mendacity only brings evil upon you, Jurauk. You last ate at dinner, didn't you?"

The red-haired young man only shuffled his feet. Vlad groaned. "Great. Our food supplies just ran out, and I haven't had time to gather a team for another expedition. The bastards are too busy with other things. I suppose you and I are enough for a small snack. First, let's find your father."

They meandered along cobblestone paths. They were so well-kept, Jurauk felt guilty for treading upon the shining stones. Then he brushed the thoughts away. Why would he feel guilty? He was the Nefarian prince, after all.

Jurauk and Vlad arrived at the Imperius's bedchambes. Jurauk knocked on the door. "Father?" he called. "You summoned me."

"Come in," said a muffled voice. Jurauk twisted the doorknob and found his father hunched over at a low table. The massive room was rather dark, as the windows were closed. Only a few lit candles allowed Jurauk to see his surroundings. The Imperius straightend, adjusting his spectacles.

"Son, I need to discuss somethings with you," he stated. The lack of affection stung, Jurauk kept his face impassive.

"What is it, Father?"

The Imperius sighed and beckoned for Vladislav to join them. Vlad shuffled in and bowed respectfully. "My Lord?"

"Jurauk is turning seventeen very soon," said the Imperius, waving a hand. "I called you here so we could discuss the responsibilities that come with being a Chief Huntsman. The survival of Ledzemok rests upon your shoulders."

Jurauk scowled. "I thought that was Soren's job. He's the firstborn, no?"

The Imperius exhaled. "That's true, but I am not lying. You'll just be supporting the Nefari differently."

"And what's that?" challenged Jurauk, sure that it would be some ridiculous suggestion.

"Why, you'll be bringing back delightful humans for us!"

aren't you guys proud of me??? another chapter in just a few days! yay, Jurauk is also now all grown up! i enjoyed writing this chapter. i promise, Zora and Jurauk's meeting is getting closer and closer, so stay tuned!

Discussion Questions: So what exactly is the job of a "Huntsman"? What will happen once Jurauk turns seventeen?