Bonds that Burn and Bind

Chapter 12 Part 1

Prince Orin was not at the meeting spot we had agreed upon when we arrived on our horses. Instead, we found a note pinned to a nearby tree telling us to meet him and his party at Blood Thorn Mountain.

We were kind of late, I thought, as I watched my mother crumble the note and toss it into the undergrowth before ordering us to set off.

Beside me rode the Jamie's. All three boys kept their eyes trained on the narrow jungle path, choked by roots crisscrossing the ground. They wouldn't talk to me even if I tried talking to them, at least not with the older mercenaries around. I had learned that because if they did, they would be beaten. But since they all hung around Prince Orin when they weren't doing their duties, we got to be friends again, at least when no one was looking.

We rounded a bend and startled a flock of drakaz dragons, one of six dragon species native to Incartha, which took off into the canopy singing bell-like notes of alarm. Drakazes looked like red snakes with yellow bellies and feathered wings. This dragon species only grew to be about the size of a large bird and was nothing compared to the wyvern dragons we had back home in Dalmar, which were big enough to ride when fully grown.

The path eventually emptied into a grassy field, where we found Prince Orin and his people engaged in a game of socutball—a game that involved kicking a leather ball through a vertical stone ring on thick wooden posts, while the opposing team did their best to try and block them.

All the players were from Prince Orin's hunting party.  Instead of their usual long tunics in muted shades of brown and green that were suited for blending in with colors of nature, today they wore bright yellow tunics over black trousers—the uniform of the Prince's guard. This trip was official royal business.

Legend went that long ago, the Shadowlings, who now called Blood Thorn Mountain home, once enslaved the people of Incartha. The people prayed to Mother Earth for salvation, and she answered their prayers by hollowing out Blood Thorn Mountain and offering it to the Shadowlings

The Shadowlings' only weakness is the sun, which burns their skin, so within the darkness of Blood Thorn Mountain, they could build a paradise—a city of eternal darkness—The City of Shadows. All they had to do was to stay within the mountain, which they agreed to, as long as the people of Incartha continued to make sacrifices to them. So the act of making sacrifices to the Shadowlings was now seen as an act of protecting Incartha itself,  making it a very important tradition, and every citizen in Incartha sent at least one offering to Blood Thorn Mountain within their lifetime if they didn't make the trek themselves.

Some players wore dark blue sashes around their waist while others wore them on their heads, but what appeared to be to tell the two teams apart than tradition.

Just beyond them stood the base of Blood Thorn Mountain. The contrast of the flat land and the abrupt rocky rise looked even more surreal this close.  Especially with the cows, goats, and a random Pegasus, a species of magical creature not native to Incartha, its golden wings glinting in the sunlight, milling around the perimeter of the socutball game.

Prince Orin, dressed entirely in his royal regalia, was a blur of cerulean blue and gold as he expertly maneuvered the ball around a tall, muscled boy, Yash, who had a thin white scar running along the side of his face from under his ear to the point of his chin.

The prince slammed the side of his foot into the ball, sending it airborne and perfectly through the goal. His team members whooped and hollered in delight.

"I told you I would be the one to kick the winning goal, you owe me 10 ruperts Yash," Prince Orin's voice carried across the field, as he patted the boy with the scar on his back. Yash was Prince Orin's best friend, and they were practically inseparable at camp.