The sun slowly dropped from view beneath the horizon of the great Hyrule fields. Slowly and with much effort, a small ox cart wound it's way along a narrow road. A wheel struck a stray rock in the road and the resulting jolt nearly tossed the small driver from the vehicle.
Ashir adjusted the cap that had almost fallen into the road along with him and sighed. The life of a magician was no picnic. He looked back at the load of boxes and jars rocking in the bed of the cart and counted to make sure none of them had fallen off. Good. They were all there.
The magician turned his eyes back on the road and squinted in the gathering dusk. Soon the great city of Hyrule should come into view. He had spent almost the entire day on the road after returning to his former home amid the great wooden columns of the Lost Forest. And why was he torturing himself atop this rickety cart and equally rickety ox at such a time at night in the middle of autumn? All for the wish of that damn chamberlain. What was his name? Ah, yes. Roland. Damn Roland. How dare that man order one such as the Great Ashir to do duties?
Again the small man sighed. It was not without just cause though, he had to admit. According to Roland, it was for the benefit of the state that Ashir tend to the ailing king. And why shouldn't he help Trine this once? After all, the magician owed his freedom and his very life to the young king. One good turn deserves another. Quid Pro Quo and such.
Since the death of his mother and the apparent defection of Auldric, Trine had fallen into some sort of despair. He spent his days sprawled on his throne, eyes unfocused, ears closed. The city doctors had tried their best to help their young liege but their treatments were ineffective. For days now, Trine had done nothing to better the state, and indeed himself. He had locked himself away in his mind, hearing nothing; seeing nothing; doing nothing. Roland had come to Ashir to ask for help and the wizard could not blame the man. After all, there was a country to run and a war to fight. Without a clear leader, the country could fall apart.
And so it was that the right hand man of the king of Hyrule was running around in a cart that threatened to collapse with every turn of the wheels. All for Hyrule. To try and save the mind and body of a broken king for the sake of the country.
Ashir focused his thoughts on his young king. Although the magician had seen much death in his life, nothing had disturbed him more than seeing a boy of such power wasting away in grief and sorrow.
The magician remembered when Trine had explained the entirety of his plan. He had marvelled at how uncaring the boy was when he had discussed the murders of his closest family members. His grandfather, aunt, uncle, even his own mother. Trine had seemed so relaxed talking about the death of his family. Ashir shook his head sadly. Even with all of the meticulous planning made by his young lord, no one could have predicted the shattering impact the death of his mother would have had upon him. It is never easy to bite the hand that has fed you since birth. There are always emotions hidden deep within the soul that rise to the surface at only certain times. Even the most stoic man has broken down and wept at some time in his life. Things happen. Terrible things. And always when you least expect them.
But then again, Trine had predicted his mother's outcome many weeks before her death. After all, he had planned it that way. Unfortunately, something had risen from deep within the king and had compelled him to remain by his mother's side throughout her last days. Only the gods knew what he did in there. Even he, Ashir, was refused access to the chambers those last days. Apparently the young man had loved his mother more than he had known.
But why? Why had he chosen such a terrible time to lose his mind? If he had killed his other family members, what difference could killing his mother make? Roland had voiced his opinion. The stupid man assumed that the pressures of ruling the kingdom had finally become too great for their monarch's young mind. Ashir had another reason and it seemed much more possible. The wizard had gone through a similar problem in his own younger years and was familiar with the causes. With the death of Queen Julia, and the exile of Princess Zelda, Trine was truly and utterly alone. He was of royal birth, so friends were few and far between; He had lost all family he had ever known; he had no family of his own to call on for help anymore. His mother was gone, he had no wife, no children. He was alone. Completely alone in a vast and complicated world. He had no one to turn to for help and understanding. He had unwittingly created his own hell and was now forced to live in it.
Ashir again looked behind him at the motley assortment of bottles and jars. Hopefully, one of them would hold the key to the locked door of Trine's mind. On that note, the cart crested a hill and all of Hyrule City was spread beneath the magician's view. The cloud of smoke from the thousands of chimneys of the city blended dully with the red fall evening and the gathering dusk. The sounds of a busy city closing down for the night could be heard from the hill over the brisk wind. Above the many buildings of the metropolis, the towers and spires of the castle could be seen dimly in the distance. A dark aura surrounded the dim giant and seemed to spread itself about the capital, enveloping each citizen with its vile hands.
Ashir rubbed his eyes and then his hands. It was either the cold affecting his sight or a vision he was seeing. Sometimes having the magical touch could be a curse. To have a man such as Trine sinking into depression and delirium could spell disaster for the land. Also, the plan could not continue without Trine's help. If the king could not be cured, all that they had gone through would have been for nothing.
Of course, whether the king was healthy or not was irrelevant without Auldric. They still needed the Master Sword. Somehow that turncoat would have to be hunted down and returned to Hyrule.
Ashir grimaced. His spell on the boy must have been too weak to contain his mind. Auldric should have been under direct control of Trine until Trine deemed fit. No less. Something must have gone wrong with the spell or affected the damn boy in such a profound way as to break it. Needless to say, when Trine snapped out of his insanity, someone would have to pay for the mistake. That someone would be Ashir.
As the cart slowly creaked its way across the drawbridge of the city gates, the wizard sighed. Things were definitely not going as planned. Only time would tell whether the plan could continue or crumble, much as the king's mind had.
Only time would tell.
Ashir adjusted the cap that had almost fallen into the road along with him and sighed. The life of a magician was no picnic. He looked back at the load of boxes and jars rocking in the bed of the cart and counted to make sure none of them had fallen off. Good. They were all there.
The magician turned his eyes back on the road and squinted in the gathering dusk. Soon the great city of Hyrule should come into view. He had spent almost the entire day on the road after returning to his former home amid the great wooden columns of the Lost Forest. And why was he torturing himself atop this rickety cart and equally rickety ox at such a time at night in the middle of autumn? All for the wish of that damn chamberlain. What was his name? Ah, yes. Roland. Damn Roland. How dare that man order one such as the Great Ashir to do duties?
Again the small man sighed. It was not without just cause though, he had to admit. According to Roland, it was for the benefit of the state that Ashir tend to the ailing king. And why shouldn't he help Trine this once? After all, the magician owed his freedom and his very life to the young king. One good turn deserves another. Quid Pro Quo and such.
Since the death of his mother and the apparent defection of Auldric, Trine had fallen into some sort of despair. He spent his days sprawled on his throne, eyes unfocused, ears closed. The city doctors had tried their best to help their young liege but their treatments were ineffective. For days now, Trine had done nothing to better the state, and indeed himself. He had locked himself away in his mind, hearing nothing; seeing nothing; doing nothing. Roland had come to Ashir to ask for help and the wizard could not blame the man. After all, there was a country to run and a war to fight. Without a clear leader, the country could fall apart.
And so it was that the right hand man of the king of Hyrule was running around in a cart that threatened to collapse with every turn of the wheels. All for Hyrule. To try and save the mind and body of a broken king for the sake of the country.
Ashir focused his thoughts on his young king. Although the magician had seen much death in his life, nothing had disturbed him more than seeing a boy of such power wasting away in grief and sorrow.
The magician remembered when Trine had explained the entirety of his plan. He had marvelled at how uncaring the boy was when he had discussed the murders of his closest family members. His grandfather, aunt, uncle, even his own mother. Trine had seemed so relaxed talking about the death of his family. Ashir shook his head sadly. Even with all of the meticulous planning made by his young lord, no one could have predicted the shattering impact the death of his mother would have had upon him. It is never easy to bite the hand that has fed you since birth. There are always emotions hidden deep within the soul that rise to the surface at only certain times. Even the most stoic man has broken down and wept at some time in his life. Things happen. Terrible things. And always when you least expect them.
But then again, Trine had predicted his mother's outcome many weeks before her death. After all, he had planned it that way. Unfortunately, something had risen from deep within the king and had compelled him to remain by his mother's side throughout her last days. Only the gods knew what he did in there. Even he, Ashir, was refused access to the chambers those last days. Apparently the young man had loved his mother more than he had known.
But why? Why had he chosen such a terrible time to lose his mind? If he had killed his other family members, what difference could killing his mother make? Roland had voiced his opinion. The stupid man assumed that the pressures of ruling the kingdom had finally become too great for their monarch's young mind. Ashir had another reason and it seemed much more possible. The wizard had gone through a similar problem in his own younger years and was familiar with the causes. With the death of Queen Julia, and the exile of Princess Zelda, Trine was truly and utterly alone. He was of royal birth, so friends were few and far between; He had lost all family he had ever known; he had no family of his own to call on for help anymore. His mother was gone, he had no wife, no children. He was alone. Completely alone in a vast and complicated world. He had no one to turn to for help and understanding. He had unwittingly created his own hell and was now forced to live in it.
Ashir again looked behind him at the motley assortment of bottles and jars. Hopefully, one of them would hold the key to the locked door of Trine's mind. On that note, the cart crested a hill and all of Hyrule City was spread beneath the magician's view. The cloud of smoke from the thousands of chimneys of the city blended dully with the red fall evening and the gathering dusk. The sounds of a busy city closing down for the night could be heard from the hill over the brisk wind. Above the many buildings of the metropolis, the towers and spires of the castle could be seen dimly in the distance. A dark aura surrounded the dim giant and seemed to spread itself about the capital, enveloping each citizen with its vile hands.
Ashir rubbed his eyes and then his hands. It was either the cold affecting his sight or a vision he was seeing. Sometimes having the magical touch could be a curse. To have a man such as Trine sinking into depression and delirium could spell disaster for the land. Also, the plan could not continue without Trine's help. If the king could not be cured, all that they had gone through would have been for nothing.
Of course, whether the king was healthy or not was irrelevant without Auldric. They still needed the Master Sword. Somehow that turncoat would have to be hunted down and returned to Hyrule.
Ashir grimaced. His spell on the boy must have been too weak to contain his mind. Auldric should have been under direct control of Trine until Trine deemed fit. No less. Something must have gone wrong with the spell or affected the damn boy in such a profound way as to break it. Needless to say, when Trine snapped out of his insanity, someone would have to pay for the mistake. That someone would be Ashir.
As the cart slowly creaked its way across the drawbridge of the city gates, the wizard sighed. Things were definitely not going as planned. Only time would tell whether the plan could continue or crumble, much as the king's mind had.
Only time would tell.