CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Mysteria

A soft sneeze was barely audible with the waves and bitter wind on the mighty sea but to the prince, it made him wince, as if an enemy of the ocean may come out of nowhere and slay him. It wasn't a pleasant thought but neither has it been with him being stuck on a raft for the past five days without sleep and no food for the last three. Winter just nipped at the land and water with a nasty chill that sank to the prince's marrow. Though the cold bite hardly affected Janus; for he was alone and he feared that if he slept he would drown or be attacked and destroyed in the water. Both he felt too pitiful of a death for his caliber.

Night came later, being the time of year that more sun would shine, which was welcoming to Janus's eyes. However, his eyes comfort was little compare to the renewed blistering pain from the exposure of the sun for several days. The prince's face ached from sunburn and no matter how high he drew his hood, the poisonous rays reflected off the water and stung his face just as much as if he was walking the desert. To say he was miserable would be an understatement, even for the prince's usual wretched attitude.

Something caught the prince's attention off in the horizon; with the setting sun to his back. At first, he almost dismissed it as a trick of light as a thin line of a darker color was seen. Then the line slowly grew in size. It took close to a couple of hours of desperate rowing before the wizard finally saw familiar shapes. Trees. But even though the season been warm, a sheet of ice covered the rim to the land beyond, as if taunting the prince that he would never reach it. A shadowy figure stepped into view and the wizard dived to his stomach, feeling foolish all the while. Being in plain sight on a raft was one thing but trying to hide at night with white clothing just didn't work.

A groan escaped the prince's cracked lips as the raft roughly thumped against the sheet of ice, fifty yards away from the mainland. Janus turned his head so his warm breath couldn't obscure his vision of the figure and now joined by four others. Surprisingly, they were Outlaws, little bird men usually dressing in simple cloths but the five he saw were dressed in fine wears and seemed to carry on a long conversation without trying to slit the other's throat. Though Janus was out of earshot, he could observe by their body language that the conversation was civil, if not, actually intellectual. The prince shook such thoughts away for they made no sense, even in such a bewildering world. Still, how they left, almost military like, told the prince that perhaps the Mystics might be governed well.

Close to an hour later and the night growing quieter, Janus finally raised, feeling as if he had to chance a spell. Smoothly the words rolled off his tongue and his grace flowed as his hands moved perfectly. If he wasn't so entranced by the spell, he would've questioned more why his spells were going haywire—while a that moment—he never felt so powerful.

With a smirk, the prince pointed to the land whispering, "Fire in the hole."

Manipulating the rolling fire, the prince created a single wave, going straight ahead of him. Instantly the sheet of ice melted away, creating a direct line to his destination. Janus thought it appropriate, like red carpet rolled out for the royal prince. Taking the oar he began to pump his arms hard to get to shore for surely such an act would attract unwanted company. Indeed, he wanted to make a grand entrance to the land of Mysteria.

The five Outlaws returned shortly after, finding a rift in the ice with a raft bobbing up and down against the turf. In a tree only a few feet away, the prince watched on, though not worried if they spotted him. They were, after all, just Outlaws. They murmured many words in the night in such an unusual and unique tongue. Janus knew Mystic talk well.

"This isn't good. We were just here an hour ago and already a trespasser entered our woods," one of the Outlaws said while taking some time looking for footprints. The prince chuckled as he knew they would find none. Walking was for peasants. He rather float.

"Should we report this to Tyz?" one whispered to the others while drawing stares from his companions and the prince.

"I rather Bonnie hear it from us else we would lose our heads," one put in but that drew Janus closer to the edge of the branch.

The five took a moment to ponder what to do but it was obvious that they didn't want to think too long on it. If it was their duty, their loyalty, or simply fear that made them on edge and needed to come to the best conclusion, Janus didn't know and nor did he care. If Tyz was their leader, than he already could find a niche in this land but if they got to report to Bonnie, than all the better. All he hoped that they weren't anything like his timeline Outlaws and would decide to turn a blind eye to this matter. The prince wasn't disappointed.

"The fact remains that an unwelcome guest is here and we need to report back to the castle. You," the Outlaw pointed to the smallest of the group. "Remain here. If the trespasser returns, give a signal but don't engage."

Janus didn't know what emotion he should use at that moment. He was insulted that they thought he would return to his leaky raft, he was delighted that he could follow the others to this castle and he was stupefied by the cautious 'don't engage' command. So he just put on his usual feature on his face. A scowl. Skipping gently—with a bit of floating magic—from branch to branch, the prince made not a sound, keeping pace with the lowly Mystics.

The Outlaws really knew the woods well, running through the forest, though it was overgrowth and difficult to see at night. Several times the prince almost lost them as the creatures kept moving while the tangled branches confused him as if he would've had a better chance on the ground in following them.

Floating to the next branch, the prince's eyes widened with surprise. They were moving throughout the forest, as far as he knew, they were getting deeper into the forest but he knew the four were sneaky. For the past hour, they were leading him in circles for Janus swore he was running along these same branches before. The prince sneered. Somehow they knew he was following them and they purposefully were letting him keep sight of them to get him lost in the woods. Such a game he would not play.

Floating down with his arms crossed, the prince came between the four in a spectacular display. None of the Outlaws were surprised or amused. Immediately the Mystics circled around him, drawing their rapiers and advanced a couple steps. Taking out his whiten Doomsickle, the prince wave a hand, telling them to bring it on. They approached a few more steps.

Then they fled. Janus was so shocked by such an action he almost didn't follow the one ahead of him as they all scattered to the four winds. The chase began and only using his magic to keep just above the ground kept the prince from losing the Mystic. Even with the advantage to avoid the obstacles, Janus knew he would lose this one for the Outlaw knew his way around and knew where to hide.

"Wait," Janus called in Mystic but the creature would not slow.

"I surrender!" the prince yelled sharply and stopped right in his tracks. He had no idea why he would say such a thing. The prince of Zeal, his timeline Zeal, would never surrender. However, doing such showed potential into getting to see Bonnie or whoever Tyz was.

"Drop your weapon, Zealian, and don't move," the Mystic called from the darkness.

Both orders went against the prince's nature. He never gave up his power, be a weapon or magic. However, he would go along with his sudden desperate cry of surrender… for now. With a shrug, the prince tossed his scythe to the ground and placed his hands behind his head. A sharp pain struck him in the shoulder. He tried to yelp but only silence exited his mouth.

Taking the dart out of his shoulder, he knew it must have been coated in Mute poison. It made him wonder if dropping his defense was a good idea, though he believed deep inside, dropping your guard you deserved what was coming to you.

"Now," the prince heard from behind, feeling a point of a sword against his back.

"March."

And so, the prince marched, silently cursing and tripping all the way.

"Harder! Faster! Come!" Thalia cried out in lust… battle lust.

Up come the bracer, parrying the long sword easily but getting his arm up in time to stop his chancellor from cleaving him in half was almost too close for comfort. The sword was dancing about, always dancing and Noah parried with his bracers more on instincts than with his mind. He didn't like that feeling. Giving into his animalistic nature went against all he stood for. Knowledge was power and not one's sixth sense. The moment he lost focus on the fight he received a stab in his right bicep for his distraction.

The king turned to the wound and then to his chancellor, who by now dropped her sword and back away, all signs of battle lust gone as she knew what she had done. She was a far better warrior than he and that was why she trained him hard but she knew when to pull back. Never once in all her life has she cut her lord. He left their sparring matches a few times bruised, sure, but never had she wounded him. How quickly she fell to her knees.

"Enough about that. Rise. I dropped my guard is all," the sorcerer smiled gently.

"I'll get Aglaïa," Thalia began and turned to fetch her sister chancellor.

"No," Noah commanded, halting his Chancellor of Forging in her progress.

"My lord."

"Here," Noah said, picking up her long sword and handing it to her by the hilt. "How am I to learn to fight with a wound unless I'm wounded?" the king stopped, pointing a finger in the air as something else came to him. "And please, don't hold back as you have been doing for all these years."

Thalia had no answer to that other than simply obeying. Taking her sword she returned to her fighting stance, taking control of herself so she could fight with her heart but not to fall into her battle lust. No one was her equal with the sword and though she feared inflicting harm on her lord, neither would she go against his orders. On she came with an overhead chop.

Noah was slow to parry with his right arm. It stung and few weapons could hurt the sorcerer but the pain was invigorating. Such a foreign feeling, yet so familiar. It's been a long time and Noah believed too long, since he felt pain. To feel is to be alive. With such a feeling he managed to counter attack, which was easily dodged, followed by the chancellor getting into his defense to rest a sword tip to his throat. Noah laughed.

"Hm?" a giant of a creature muttered as a commotion began emanating just outside his throne room.

In came an Outlaw, literally, right through his solid oak door. Just outside the shattered portal laid four other Outlaws and in stepped an unusual man. His impressive height, taller than most humans, intrigued the creature. The man was human but obviously he was Zealian by the clothes, though white, and by his hair, also white. But other than his first sight of the Zealian walking into his throne room was impressive, he didn't care much.

"You owe me a new door, Zealian," the creature paused to look down at his unconscious Outlaw. "And if any of my subjects die, you'll owe me far more."

"Come off it, Tyz. You don't care about these men," Janus countered and tried to prove his point by kicking the Outlaw.

How quickly did Janus's eyes open and how quickly he had to duck to avoid a solid stone throne being whipped right for his head and watched it shatter to pieces behind him. As Janus turned back to the brute, a massive hand wrapped itself completely around his throat, lifting the prince in the air. If not for his floating technique, he knew his neck would've been broken but that didn't stop the Mystic from suffocating him to death. Janus pounded and kicked at the bulky arm that rippled with muscles to no avail. The beast was the size of an ogre... perhaps he was, wearing nothing but simple slacks and a jerkin. His green arms rippled with corded mass amount of muscles, Without being able to speak, the prince was at the beast's mercy.

"First, I am not Tyz. I am King Domacka Orion. Second, Zealian, kick any of my subjects while they are down again in my presence, I will finish what I started here," the king Mystic threatened, dropping the prince to the floor.

The prince immediately got to his feet shortly after his knee hit the ground. One of Janus's strengths was his intimidation by standing tall, looking down at his enemies. However, Orion stood two heads taller than the prince and outweighed him at least three fold. The Mystic was unusual like the rest of them to the prince's line of thought. He was very strong physically but he seemed to have an aura of wisdom about him.

The king began wiping his hand off his grey jerkin, which seemed to compliment his grey skin, as if touching Janus was repulsive. Such a move caused the prince's eye to twitch. Between the two, he was obviously not the disgusting one but the giant creature was. But other than twitching his eye and rubbing his neck, the prince said not a word or made not a move.

"My lord, it was wise for you to spare him," a feminine voice said as a figure faded into existence and some distance from the two. Before the prince floated by all rights a beautiful sight. Much of a willow look upon her but graceful in all appearances. Her long blond hair settled gently on her shoulders when she descended to the ground, touching the floor lightly with her bare feet. Wearing a crimson gown, she spoke again, "He may be Zealian, however, not one of our people were killed. Perhaps a rouge?"

"I shall not take such a chance. He my just be a spy to gather information here and return to lick Noah's boots…"

"The next time you say that, I will send you to the void," Janus openly threatened, dripping with much venom from his words.

"HA! So you say you don't kneel to that bastard?" Orion accused with a full on belly laugh.

"I kneel… to no one," the prince said darkly, slowly saying each word so the Mystic would not miss a single syllable. That statement and how it was said had both the king and the woman backing up a step. No servant of Noah would say such a thing.

"Who are you and why are you here?" the woman asked while taking her place beside her king. Again, Janus could've swore she was human. The only non human part on her was her ears, being pointed at the ends but then again, wasn't Janus's ears no different?

"I am Magus. I am a wizard from the continent of Zeal, exiled for my power and dangers to the crown. Indeed," Janus closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly with a chuckle. "I could be such a danger. After all, I want Noah's head on a pike."

Such… blasphemy has been acceptable to any Mystic but to hear a Zealian threaten the almighty Wind Mage King was unheard of. Both Mystics turned to regard the white man. He was indeed skilled with his tongue for surely he spoke truths and lies. Yet, they knew not when he was speaking truthfully or falsely. One thing they did know, any enemy of Noah may become a potential ally to them.

"Magus, huh?" the woman said with a giggle. The melody that each word that escaped her lips finally helped Janus figure out what she maybe. A fey. Elves, faeries, dryads, nymphs, whatever you wish to call them. Still, even her charming magic, her glamor, didn't stop the mounting anger of being mocked at.

"What of it?"

"That isn't your real name. 'Magus' in our tongue means 'wise one' and you are too full of yourself to be such," the woman giggled again. Janus kept his lips shut so not to show them his gnashing teeth. Such a reaction from him had her laughing all the more.

"Enough, Bonnie!" Orion barked and immediately she quieted. "I asked who you were and Magus works. I'm still interested why you would foolishly risk your life to obviously meet me, if not to assassinate me."

"I assure you, your life I don't care about. However, that one there," the prince pointed to the woman. "I'm interested in. I'm here for selfish reasons. Power, plan and simple. My magic hasn't been working properly and I need help to fix it so I can send such power to kill the one I truly wish destroyed."

"Noah," Orion simply put it. Janus nodded.

"I will not train—"

"Agreed," Orion interrupted before Bonnie could ruin a golden opportunity. The sorceress glared at her king, trying to ponder why he would want a Zealian in their midst and worse, she badly despised any human but above all, any of Zeal origin. Janus smirk became a scowl as Orion turned back to him.

"But only if you agree to train our wizards along side Bonnie. Zeal's magicians are growing stronger by the night and we could use some insight from one of Zeal lineage," the Mystic King finished.

Janus knew this to be a test, something to no doubt tell them he was no spy. He could respect that but could he agree to such terms? Training wizards for war? Such a thing left a fowl taste in his mouth. He swore never to get into such things again. So, he did what he normally did in such situations. He lied.

"Of course, Domacka," Janus agreed with an evil grin.

"That is King Orion, Zealian. Also, show your loyalty. Show your respects and bow to him," Bonnie growled.

"I bow," the prince paused to look at the 'teacher' he was soon to have with a cold stare, "to no man."

The sorceress was about to snap on the prince until Orion moved a massive arm to prevent her from taking such actions. Looking upon the human, Orion believed his last statement was final and his pride would rather send him to an early grave than ever kneel to anyone. With that reasoning, this Magus, truly hated Noah or at least serve only himself and no king. Though Magus was not a Mystic and had no obligation to Orion, the king figured he needn't have to bow nor kneel to him. As it stood, Orion felt he would benefit dearly from this man. If he taught his wizards, which would help Bonnie the sole trainer of the wizards out, than his army would grow stronger. The worst case scenario, he would use Bonnie to grow, refuse to train the wizards and then would go off to kill Noah. Both seemed very promising to the Mystic King.

"Lowjo, since you're awake, please find our guest some quarters," Orion commanded his stirring Outlaw.

Soon after they were alone, Bonnie pouted, doomed to teach a Zealian her tricks. However, Orion was leader not because of strength in arm but because of his silver tongue. Gently he reminded his general of the benefits to training the wizard and how to help her bare through it. She was more than she appeared to be and Orion didn't pity the poor Zealian. Not one bit.