Cost of a Crown (Book 3)
Two Heirs
Chapter Thirteen: Cave of Saryn
Malkyn was getting tired. Like, really tired.
But he couldn't stop treading water or else he would sink. One of the problems with being solid muscle and having nearly zero percent body-fat.
The current was carrying him somewhere. He just didn't know where.
The sun had gone down and stars appeared in the sky. Malkyn knew about stars, he'd read about them. The skies of the Dark Hemisphere were always blanketed in thick cloud-cover, so he'd never seen him himself. This was a first for him and if he weren't still in danger of drowing, he would have liked to enjoy them.
Supposedly, mariners could navigate by the stars. Malkyn was sure he heard both Mer-Man and Trap Jaw talking about navigating by the stars.
But Malkyn had lived his whole life in a mountain volcano, or a land-locked ruin, in an area of the world that did not see the stars. So he had no training in celestial navigation. He didn't know how to use the stars to figure out where he was, or what direction he should swim in.
Even if he didn't know where to go, he had to do something.
Malkyn was getting tired, and he couldn't keep himself afloat indefinitely. Eventually he would exhaust himself. And then-
Well, that would be an anticlimactic end to the reign of King Malkyn of the House of Keldor.
Think. Malkyn, think! He was smart. He came up with all these plans. He had to be able to come up with something to get him out of this situation. He still had his com, it was in his vest pocket. But it was submerged in the water, the circuitry flooded. He had a knife for when magic required blood. And he had the Havoc Staff sheathed over his back.
Drawing the Havoc Staff, Malkyn made a wide circle in the water around him. Then another. Around him and around him he spun the magical staff until the rings of water began to rise and he was carried up in the center of a spiraling waterspout.
It lifted him into the air above the ocean where he could see farther.
He still didn't know where -exactly- he was. But he did see something off in the distance that could be the Dark Hemisphere.
It looked like land. But it was obscured by a thick mist, or fog, or cloud-cover. Malkyn saw the starlight reflected off the vapors and the dark silhouette of land behind them. What else could look like land hidden behind vapors if not the Dark Hemisphere?
Waving the Havoc Staff in a different arc, he used the waterspout to propel him to the land.
He got there faster than expected.
The vapors obscuring the land from view made it seem far away, but it was actually quite close. A rocky shore with a steep incline that was topped by a grassy hill.
Malkyn scaled the hill and immediately flopped on the grass. Exhausted.
He laid on his back, hugging the Havoc Staff and looked up at the sky. It was obscured by fog. Malkyn could no longer see a single star. It was just like home.
Except it was not hot enough to be the Dark Hemisphere. The Dark Hemisphere was always hot. Even at night. Even near the coast. Even far from the volcanos. The vapors that blanketed the sky and made the continent dark also insulated the landscape, trapped in heat, and made the continent hot.
This place was not hot.
To Malkyn, someone who grew up inside a volcano with pools of surface lave, it was cold.
The vapors obscuring the sky were probably fog, or mist. Not volcanic gasses.
But Malkyn could figure out where he was in the morning. For now, it was enough that he was on land and not in danger of drowning. That was enough.
Closing his eyes, Malkyn fell asleep.
…
Adam was thrown into a cell.
It wasn't long at all before Adam realized he was in Snake Mountain that the Evil Warriors realized in was in Snake Mountain. Alarms were raised, and he was quickly caught as an intruder.
Trap Jaw wanted to kill him outright. But Beastman reminded him that King Malkyn would be angry if killing King He-Man ruined his plans. If they were going to kill Adam, they needed to get Malkyn's permission first.
The broken Power Sword was pulled from his hand, and heavy metal shackles were slapped on him (causing pain to erupt from his broken hand), and he was thrown in a cramped cell in the deepest, darkest, hottest dungeon in Snake Mountain.
It was just like old times.
For one terrifying moment, sitting in the dark heat of the dungeon, Adam thought maybe he was back then. Separated from the Power Sword, unable to transform into He-Man, Skeletor believing him to be just Prince Adam, and holding him to use in some nefarious plan. It made sense in Adam's mind.
What he couldn't understand was why he was just sitting there, cradling his injured hand and not doing anything. He should be looking for a way to escape. Instead, he was… panicking?
Adam did not panic!
But here he was, sitting on the floor of the cell, cradling his injured hand. His breathing quick and shallow. His heart hammering against his chest. His mind racing with a million and one bad memories of his battles with Skeletor.
Then the soft glow of witchlight illuminated the dungeon and Adam looked up.
Evil-Lyn stood just on the other side of the bars. Glaring at him with an intensity of hatred she did not hold for him the last time they saw each other .
Adam studied her. Unable to figure out why she looked so old. Yeah, she was always older than him. But, unless it was part of some evil scheme, Evil-Lyn always appeared as a beautiful (if not a little terrifying) young woman.
But here she was, her face lined and wrinkled, the skin of her cheeks and her neck sagging noticeably. The once golden luster of her skin was dulled to more of a sickly yellow pallor. Her hair, that she once kept short and always hidden under her helmet was long and cascaded over her shoulders in spidery waves.
It took Adam some time to remember that he wasn't still Prince Adam. He was King. Skeletor was not holding him prisoner. Skeletor was dead. He killed Skeletor himself. Eighteen years ago.
Adam took a breath to try and get his nerves under control again. He was a Master of the Universe, he should be able to master himself.
"Evil-Lyn." He nodded to her, trying to sound like the confident ruler that he did not feel like in that moment. "Have you come to release me? As I understand it, your son wants peace between us. These aren't accommodations one usually makes for their friends."
"We aren't friends." Evil-Lyn informed him flatly.
Adam had to agree, honestly. Even if Skeleteen- King Malkyn -even if King Malkyn wanted there to be a peace between their two factions, Adam would never be 'friends' with any of Skeletor's Evil Warriors. There was too much history between them. There could never be any real trust.
"Still. You should release me." Adam insisted, trying to sound calm, and rational, and polite. Although, he wasn't sure how much of any of those things he actually sounded, all he could hear was his own heart pounding in his ears. "Your son- Your King would want you to."
Evil-Lyn scoffed. "My son might be King, but he is still just a naïve child. My father filled his head with stupid child-dreams of peace and cooperation and now he thinks that all he needs to get what he wants is the power of friendship."
Every word dripped with bitterness, but 'friendship' in particular overflowed with distain. Evil-Lyn detested the idea of being friends with He-Man or any of his insufferable Masters.
"If that's what you think makes someone a child, then I guess I'm still a child too!" Adam snapped back at her. He was in his forties now. Very much an adult and approaching 'middle-aged', but Adam still believed in the power of friendship, finding common ground, cooperation, and the peace that those things brought. "I'm glad Malkyn is the one ruling the Dark Hemisphere, and I'm glad to work with him."
"My son is not here right now." Evil-Lyn informed him. "You won't be working with anyone. And when Malkyn returns from whatever new errand he's concocted for that Impossible Plan of his, he'll never even know you were here."
Evil-Lyn stepped closer to the bars, one bony hand wrapping around them as she leaned in close. The corners of her mouth pulling back in threatening smile, making her look every bit the evil witch she was always said to be.
Unconsciously, Adam took a step back from the bars, unsettled by that terrifying crone face.
"I used to be indifferent to you, you know." She taunted. "He-Man, Prince Adam. Both. I didn't care about either of your alter egos one way or another. You were just two people in our way. …and then you killed him."
She wasn't talking about Malkyn. She meant Skeletor.
He-Man killed Skeletor.
He remembered watching her claw through the rubble after the final battle. Searching for her dead lover's remains. Collecting all his bones.
Evil-Lyn wasn't just Skeletor's lover, she was in love with him.
"For years, I've been bidding my time." She continued. "I had Malkyn to look after. My son is the last thing I have of his. But Malkyn's grown now and can take care of himself. Now, I'm free to finally take my revenge on you! And you were obliging enough to walk right into my house too!"
She cackled evilly.
Adam swallowed a lump of nerves. Teela clearly hadn't thought this through when she decided to teleport him to Snake Mountain.
"Maybe I'll burn your face off with acid." Evil-Lyn mused aloud, smiling at the idea of He-Man being maimed in the same way Skeletor was maimed. "Or maybe I should tear you limb from limb and make your beloved Teela gather your remains from the field, the way I had to collect his bones after you destroyed him! So you can die with the knowledge that your lover will suffer the way I suffered!"
Adam hated both those options. But what he hated more, was the reminder that Teela was probably alreadysuffering. Trapped inside Castle Grayskull, which had just been invaded by a new enemy they had never fought before and didn't know what to expect. King Malkyn was confident the Unnamed One wouldn't kill Teela, but he was just a kid. What did he know? And even if he didn't kill Teela, there was still a lot of harm he could do to her without killing.
"We don't have time for that!" Adam snapped.
"Oh, poor little Prince Adam," she taunted, "you misunderstand your situation. I have all the time in the world. You on the other hand-"
"You don't even know where your son is!" Adam snapped at her. He wanted to get back to Teela, and the only way to get back to Teela was to get Evil-Lyn to stop gloating. "Your precious, last thing you have of Skeletor's, and you don't even know where he is or if he's alive!"
"He's-" Evil-Lyn faltered. The last she heard, he got a message from Odar and rushed off with Noodle and Keris. He didn't tell her where he was going or what he was doing. Just that it was important and he didn't have to explain himself to her. "Malkyn is probably in Zalesia. He often visits his grandfather."
Except that Malkyn was attacked and injured en-route from Zalesia before. Visiting his grandfather did not mean Malkyn was safe. And Evil-Lyn didn't even know for sure that was where he went.
"You sure about that?" Adam asked, already seeing the concerned apprehension on her face as she chewed her lower lip. "Because just before I was teleported here, King Malkyn of the House of Keldor was at Castle Grayskull with me."
Evil-Lyn's mouth parted in mild betrayal, but not much surprise. It was not unbelievable that King Malkyn might pay a visit to King Adam. Then her mouth closed again in a severe frown and her eyebrows came down with a glare. "You lie. Malkyn is in Zalesia with his grandfather."
"Why don't you just call the Faceless One and ask?" Adam suggested, perhaps sounding a bit more smug than he meant to. "I assume you have a way of contacting your father."
Evil-Lyn just continued to glare at him.
Adam met her eyes and lifted his chin challengingly.
Evil-Lyn turned away from Adam and marched out of the dungeon. "I will contact my father." She announced. "And after he tells me that Malkyn is wasting his time safe in Zalesia, I'll come back here to exact my revenge on you. Playing on my fears as a mother has only delayed your fate, Adam, it hasn't saved you."
But as Evil-Lyn walked away, she chewed on her bottom lip. She had a terrible feeling that something bad had happened to her son. Or that her son was somehow unsafe. Maybe it wasn't mother's intuition, maybe it was just baseless fear from Adam's suggestion that she didn't know where he was. Maybe once she contacted the Faceless One, he would confirm that Malkyn was there, and he was safe, and she had no reason to worry.
But, if Malkyn wasn't in Zalesia, then where could he be?
…
When Malkyn woke up, it was bright.
Too bright to be the Dark Hemisphere.
Thick mists still blanketed the landscape, but the sun's rays did manage to pierce through the haze. The grassy hill overlooking the beach was a wash of soft buttery light.
And Malkyn still didn't know where he was.
Steep mountains climbed up through the mist heading away from the shore. Malkyn was sure that if he kept following the coast, he would come across a port town or fishing town of some kind. The best way to figure out where he was and find a way back to where he wanted to be was to find a town.
But there was something about the mountains that drew Malkyn's attention.
Not anything as overt or identifiable. Just something in the magical energy of the place. Wherever he was, the mountains had something they thought he should see.
As a sorcerer, Malkyn understood that magical beckonings shouldn't be ignored. Usually when the energy of a place called to an individual it was because the land had something important to show said individual.
But, as a King, Malkyn needed to get back to Snake Mountain as fast as possible.
So, he ignored the wordless magical call from the mountains and struck out along the beach, following the coast in search of a settlement of any kind.
He didn't find a town, but he did eventually come across a road. Which was just as good. A road could be followed to a town.
Malkyn was on the road less than an hour when he came upon the first people he'd seen all day.
Both of them Gar. That in and of itself was jarring, there weren't many Gar on the mainland. Not counting himself, Trap Jaw and Keris were the only other Gar that Malkyn knew.
It was even more jarring when he asked them where he was and they responded in Garese, not Standardized Eternian Common.
"Hey, this is gonna sound dumb," began Malkyn, twirling a lock of his long white hair around a finger, "but where are we? Ditzy me, got lost."
"Anata ha dare ka?" Was the reply he got back.
And there was a moment's pause when all three of them paused to stare at each other with utter incomprehension.
That was when everything finally clicked and Malkyn realized where he was. At night when it was already dark and the sky was obscured by the mists, he thought he was in the Dark Hemisphere. When he awoke the sky was still obscured, but by mist, not layers of volcanic gasses. And now the first (only?) people he meets are Gar that only speak Garese and not a word of Common.
Malkyn had washed up on the cursed island of Anwat Gar.
"Oh, fuck me…" Malkyn groaned. Then to the two other Gar. "Don't suppose either of you speak Common?"
One of them closed the distance between, coming up close to Malkyn and getting in his personal space. He reached out one dark blue hand and grabbed at the long white strands. "Nande shiroi kamina no? Rōjin no yō ni."
Malkyn pulled his hair out of the other man's hold and took several steps back. He drew the Havoc Staff. "You better back yourself up! I don't even like my friends touching my hair!"
This warning didn't have much effect on account of the language barrier.
Upon seeing Malkyn draw a magic staff, the other two drew weapons of their own. One, a handful of short throwing knives, the other… a handful of paper? The throwing knives Malkyn understood, knives were a common weapon everywhere on Eternia. But the long thin strips of paper with Garese characters written on them, those Malkyn did not recognize.
He raised the Havoc Staff to cast a spell. Just a simple flash of light, a diversionary spell to allow Malkyn to get around the pair without harming them. Once he put some distance between them, the mist would hide him from view, so he could continue on his journey to find a way back home.
But the moment the eyes of the ram skull began to glow with the power of his spell, the one with the papers threw one at the staff. It stuck to the ram's skull right between the horns and Malkyn's spell was cut off and shut-down mid-cast.
"What the-!?"
Malkyn barely had time to react before he was diving to avoid the throwing knives.
Malkyn scrambled off the path and hid behind a boulder. He peeled the paper off the Havoc Staff. How in the hell did a little piece of paper manage to shut down the Havoc Staff!? A relic of ancient Zalesia, and touched by the power that pulsed at the heart of Eternia herself!
Malkyn shook the staff in his hand, trying to wake the ancient ram skull.
The eyes flicked with the effort to awaken the magic within it and Malkyn stood.
Only to have to duck back down again when two more throwing knives streaked past his head. One of them nicked his ear and a drop of blood fell on the ground.
Keeping low to the ground now, Malkyn crept farther from the path, hoping the thick mists of the cursed island would conceal him.
He was moving uphill.
Malkyn didn't realize he was heading up into the mountains until he looked back to check if the pair were pursuing him. If they weren't following him, Malkyn could just wait a bit to be sure they were gone, then try again to find a village or settlement, or someplace that could help him get off the island.
But when Malkyn climbed up onto an outcropping of rock to get a better view, another throwing knife streaked by. This time grazing his cheek.
Snarling in pain, Malkyn ducked back behind the rock, one hand to his cheek. Blood oozed from the cut, flowing much more freely than the drips from the cut on his ear. If he made it through this, he wouldn't be quite so pretty anymore.
Malkyn glared up the mountain slope. He noted before on the beach that the mountains were beckoning to him through the magic of Eternia's aether. If something in the mountains wanted him, then it had to be safer than the pair that just decided to attack him out on the road.
He continued hiking up. Letting the power of the mountains guide his feet.
Every now and again, he would look back to check and see if he was still being pursued.
Until, finally, Malkyn came upon a cave.
He dashed inside to hide, then froze.
Inside the cave was dim. The only light, that which was coming in from the entrance. It was a wide cave, with an almost artificially flat floor and bare walls. But that wasn't what made Malkyn pause.
In the center of the cave, right in the middle of that unnaturally smooth floor, was a pool of some dark liquid, and there was the metallic scent of blood in the air.
Malkyn backed up. He didn't know why the power of this place would call him here. But the cave was cursed. Not cursed like the rest of Anwat Gar was cursed. That was more a general inconvenience curse. This cave was a narrow and personal curse. A place where someone had died in anger, or from betrayal. Murder. Broken hearts. Spite that lasts beyond lifetimes… That kind of curse.
Not the kind of place a person wanted to just blunder into and risk getting cursed themselves.
But as soon as Malkyn backed out of the cave, he was hit in the leg by one of the papers that had disabled the Havoc Staff.
The paper charm stuck to his calve, sending the sensation of pins and needles through his muscle. Like his leg had fallen asleep. The leg gave out and Malkyn fell onto his knees. He skittered back into the cave for whatever cover it offered him.
His blood from the cut on his cheek and the nick on his ear dripped onto the too smooth floor.
Behind him, the surface of the pool of blood shudder with a tiny ripple.
"Kare wa tenyo no yōna shiroi kami o shite imasu." Said one of them.
"Watashitachi wa sore o takusan uru koto ga dekimashita." Replied his companion.
Malkyn wouldn't have understood their conversation even if he had been listening. His attention was focused on peeling the paper charm off his leg so he could stand again and defend himself.
Like an idiot, Malkyn got himself cornered.
And cornered in the worst possible place.
A cursed cave, on a cursed island. There was no way this could end well for any of them.
Malkyn raised the Havoc Staff again, this time to do more than just a disarming spell. He was through being nice. He was going to be merciful since he didn't know where he was or who these people were. But they made it very clear that they were not going to give him the same curtesy, so kid-gloves were off. It was time for the dark magic he learned from his mother!
But the moment the staff was raised, one of the throwing knives streaked across his arm, drawing more blood and causing him to drop the staff. While another paper charm hit him in the center of the chest and stuck there.
That pins and needles feeling was all over his body this time and Malkyn suddenly found that his muscles no longer worked. He fel backwards into the cursed pool of blood. His own blood from his open cuts mingling with the dark viscus cursed blood.
His two attacks advanced on him and Malkyn suddenly wasn't so concerned about the cursed pool of blood, in the cursed cave, on the cursed island anymore. He had more pressing concerns.
'I'm going to die!' He thought, eyes pinching shut. More of his own blood flowing into the pool from his open wounds, as the panicked pounding of his hear pumped the blood out faster. His own terror flowing through his blood into the cursed pool.
And then something moved under the surface.
A sinewy blue hand, dripping with blood from the cursed pool, then another one. Blue skin pulled tight over sinewy muscle and sharp black-tinted nails. The hands clawed at the smooth stone of the cave floor, creating deep gashes in the rock and they pulled themselves out of the pool.
Shoulders came next. Broad, round shoulders. Bent with the effort of climbing out of the pool. Then the shoulders straightened, the creature lifting its head up. But- the head-
The body had flesh. Muscle and skin. But the head had none. Just bare, naked bone. Scraped clean of any flesh. No skin, no muscle, not even eyes or tongue. Not even a neck. Just a naked skull hovering between a pair of well-muscled blue shoulders.
The undead creature climbed out of the pool of blood, placing itself between Malkyn and his attackers.
"Akuma!" They both cried before turning and running from the cave. "Akuma da yo!"
The undead creature didn't even watch them leave or make sure they were gone. As soon as the attackers gave up the fight, the undead creature turned its attention to Malkyn.
Still laying half in the cursed pool of blood. Unable to love on account of the Garese paper charm sticking to his chest. Malkyn stared up at the undead thing.
A humanoid shape, two arms, two legs. But the skin was jewel-tone blue, like a Gar's. Almost Malkyn's own shade of jewel-tone blue. But where there should have been a blue face with Gar-black hair, there was only a skull.
Like Skeletor.
Now Malkyn understood why this cursed place had called to him. After Skeletor's final defeat at the hands of He-Man, Evil-Lyn had carried his bones to Anwat Gar and laid them beside Keldor's murdered mother in the cursed pool of her everlasting blood. That was why this place called to Malkyn.
It was his father's grave.
And it looked like mixing his warm living blood in the cursed pool had summoned the dead.
Skeletor bend down and peeled the paper charm off Malkyn's harness.
The moment Malkyn could move again, he kicked up at Skeletor. "Don't touch me!"
He rolled away and skittered on the heels of his hands to put a little distance between him and Skeletor. His back flattened against the cave wall and he reached out a hand, calling to the Havoc Staff to defend himself.
Skeletor adjusted his jaw where the kick had connected. "Damn it, Malkyn, I'm trying to help you!"
He- he could talk! Skeletor wasn't just some mindless undead creature. He could communicate. But, more importantly-
"You know who I am?" Malkyn did not lower the Havoc Staff.
Skeletor placed one hand on his hip. He sounded mildly concerned when he asked, "Do you know who I am?"
"Skeletor." Malkyn supplied without hesitation or pause.
For some reason, that answer seemed to disappoint Skeletor. The hand was no longer on his hip and his shoulders sank. He had a very different tone when he announced, "I'm also your father."
…