Chapter 2

The Prince and The Dagger

In the ochre ravines of the Krozjit Echoes, a muffled explosion from a Firaga spell could be heard as it raged and crashed upon the rocky walls. Fortunately, the blaze could not be seen from a distance as it was hidden in the chasms of the ravines. Training of this kind could easily be conducted without notice in this part of the Dhalmekian landscape.

A pair of silver daggers raced through the burst of flames and glinted with liquid fire as they found their marks on the rock wall. Soon after, a flaming sword slashed through the air, its flickering blaze like blood in the breeze. More daggers flew in a volley as they spread in different directions. The young man of twenty years and young woman of sixteen years continued training together as the sun set above them over the tops of the ravines. Eventually the young man stopped to steady his breathing after a handful of coughs and the young woman strode quickly towards him with concern, seizing her last stray dagger on the way.

A voice spoke aloud from the other side. "Wonderful, sire. Your abilities improve with each passing day," exclaimed an older man in a gleeful manner. Sulien had been observing the pair from the shadows and was now slowly approaching them, the last of the flickering embers lighting his rugged features.

"And Jote – I daresay your abilities with the blade will someday surpass even that of my assassins," he complimented the young woman.

Jote placed a hand on her chest and bowed her head as a sign of reverence to Sulien. Praise from any members of the Undying was rare indeed. The potential for pride was always kept in check. In slight contrast, Sulien believed in providing some type of reinforcement when it came to training his students.

"It is not I that is skilled, Master Sulien – it is all thanks to your careful watch over my years of combat study." Having the age of only sixteen summers, Jote already possessed skills worthy of a warrior of the shadows.

"You deserve more credit than you bestow upon yourself, Jote," a sincere voice approached her from her right side. Jote turned to look at Joshua. His copper blond hair was highlighted by the last streams of sunlight. Something in that proud gaze he gave her from his cerulean blue eyes stirred a feeling in her chest. Not a feeling of pride but…

"I am much obliged, your Grace. I can only hope to prevail to better serve you," Jote stated as she gave Joshua a small bow. When it came to providing congratulatory remarks to others, Joshua was always the exception. He wanted others to know of their importance.

Joshua smiled tenderly as he placed a hand on the side of her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze in a silent response. They locked eyes and Jote allowed a small smile to light her features like a candle's flicker. She tried to suppress her blush by tilting her face away from him when realizing they were still in the presence of Sulien. Joshua slowly took his hand away from Jote's shoulder but left a lingering sensation there.

Sulien gave Jote a knowing look when he was sure Joshua couldn't see– he may be an Elder but he was once a young man himself and he sensed their connection. Some of the Undying held more traditional views when it came to the relationship between Jote and Joshua. The prince and his future knight. Though she was not yet officially his knight. Those Elders only wished to see Jote in a role of servitude and strict loyalty. Her role as Joshua's attendant was to receive instructions and execute them objectively. Yet not one soul would dare say a word to the Master of the Undying when it came to his interactions with her. Despite what he observed, Sulien was not concerned – he knew Jote and how seriously she took her responsibility. Duty would always come first.

"Master Sulien!" yelled the little boy Azar as he came running, kicking up dust and skidding to a stop in front of the group.

Azar quickly placed a hand over his heart and gave a hasty bow to Joshua and then turned back to Sulien. Joshua gave a nod of acknowledgement to Azar. The gesture from Azar triggered a fleeting memory for Jote.

Five summers ago, a teenage Joshua divulged a private thought to her. He never understood all of the formalities that each of the Undying had for him specifically. He felt it was all "too superfluous" as he felt "unworthy to be the Flame" that deserved such reverence. Yet over time, Joshua learned to honor the ancient customs of the Undying who had served all of his Phoenix predecessors. Jote's mind snapped back to the present as she heard Sulien's stern response.

"Young Azar, it is dangerous at this hour. Pray tell, why did you endeavor such a risk across the Krozjit Echoes?" scolded Sulien.

Azar shook his head. "Master Sulien…uh...Master Cyril asks that you come right away to assist him."

"Did he say what the occasion pertains?" Sulien questioned the boy.

"Erm…no, Master," Azar hesitated as sweat drops beaded on his forehead. He was still trying to catch his breath. Azar's voice was slightly frazzled even though he tried his best to be calm. Sulien could tell something was amiss but thought it best not to alarm his liege and Jote.

"Then I shall make haste. Your Grace, my apologies for the sudden departure. Jote." Sulien bowed to Joshua and turned to stride after Azar.

Jote and Joshua silently watched them leave. They both looked up at the sky and saw night was upon them in the form of rosy and purple hues. The star of Metia was already in view with its blazing red light.

"Perhaps we should follow them your Grace?" Jote suggested.

"No…not yet. I sensed from Azar's tone that he did not wish for us to follow. Let us stay here a few moments longer to allow Sulien and Cyril to address whatever matter they must," said Joshua, his thoughts already far away as he gazed into the darkening skies. He settled himself on a nearby stone and placed his hand next to him glancing back at her.

Admittingly, Jote felt a bit anxious about Azar's message and what it conveyed but she walked forward and sat next to Joshua on the stone, keeping a respectful distance. Sitting in a peaceful silence, they listened to the sound of distant creatures and the conclusion of another day as the desert breeze fluttered Jote's nutbrown hair and Joshua's cobalt tunic.

Jote often enjoyed the comfortable silences between them. At times, she took her duty so seriously that she would rarely start new lines of conversation with him. She recalled once being chastised by an Elder when she was younger. Apparently, young Jote spoke too much to his Grace especially when he finally awoke from his long slumber years ago. She had yearned to know more about the esteemed Phoenix but she especially was eager to learn about the boy who held its flames after seeing him bedridden and unresponsive for so long. It dawned on Jote that today was the ten-year anniversary of that dreadful Night of Flames.