The Mirror Princess

CHAPTER V

Hundreds of miles away from Averon Castle and nestled in the base of the Wildhorn Mountains was Hylaris Castle. Once a place of ancient beauty, where travelers could gather, learn many things and add more to the vast collections within its Record Chamber, was now one of lost souls. The great stones that made the castle itself was worn, cracked and broken nearly everywhere. Pillars that once stood tall lay broken upon the ground as fallen giants. Many sections of the castles roof had caved in long ago, due to both time and the ancient siege weapons of Averon.

The walls of Hylaris castle looked no better, a majority of it having been withered down into a mere shadow of its former glory. The vast courtyards of the castle, once home to such elegant gardens had now been overtaken by them. Thick vines spilled over the small garden walls, great trees had grown where there were none before, and a varity of flowers were still blooming this time of year. In this way the city that encompassed Hylaris Castle looked no better.

Not much stone was used in the making of homes and the shops of its former residents. Strong oakwood had been the chosen material, though there were few signs of it now. The oak had rotted away centuries ago, leaving only the stone foundation undeneath. This once grand city had also been consumed by nature with oak trees and thick grass. Bushes had also sprung up in various spots in the city. These bore many types of edible and poisonous berries, some of which could trace their origin from the gardens within the castle.

In comparison to the lost wonder of Hylaris Castle, the Dark Sorcerer's presence stood out quite dramatically.

He paced the width of the great hall, frustration and rage rolling off him in waves as he did so, but paid little mind to his surroundings. The great hall itself was no different than the rest of the castle, the surface of its marble floors fractured with little shine to them anymore. The tall and great stained glass windows had been broken long ago due to man and nature, only one having managed to survive for this long. It depicted an event that happened during the early days of wizardry, centered on three great mages who would later be known as the Grand Mages of Hylaris, Manara, and Averon respectively.

It was before this single window that the Dark Sorcerer had ceased his pacing, looking up at it and his hatred only growing and the stained glass began to crack. His gloved hands curled into fists and he whirled away from the glass window, his dark robes swirling at his feet due to the movement. In this moment the glass shattered and fell onto him and to the cold hard ground beneath his feet. The Dark Sorcerer didn't even react as he walked away from yet another piece of destruction at his hands, and the shards of glass didn't even cling to his cloak as though afraid to stay near him.

The Dark Sorcerer resumed his pacing in the great hall and began speaking his frustrations out loud without a care to whatever or whoever his audience might be at this moment in time. His tone conveyed his feelings of hatred very plainly.

"One book. Just one little book, and I failed!" He raged to the empty air. "Overlooking a simple servants journal was bad on its own, but foiled by a young whelp of Averon my pride refuses to accept!"

The Dark Sorcerer then looked down at his gloved hands, palms facing him and he glared at them as if they had been the cause of his failure to obtain the journal from Averon Castle's Records Chamber.

"Could the Dark Powers have abandoned me..." His words drifted off momentarily before he cried out, clenching his hands once again. "No! They can't have, not after all this time we have shared together. Something else interfered, or perhaps it was simply dumb luck on the part of the young Prince of Averon." He said the title with an audible sneer of utter contempt. It was certainly no secret that the Dark Sorcerer held nothing but hatred for the kingdom of Averon. Despite this, it wasn't all too often that he indulged in expressing that grudge against Averon. It was only every couple of decades or centuries that he brought the Manara Host to Averon's gates.