While the town is loud and constantly bustling, the shop is quiet, and, for the most part, peaceful. I’m lounging behind the crowded counter filled with all sorts of colorful trinkets alongside many exotic and mystical plants. I am pretending to grind a special assortment of herbs and roots as instructed by Master Mullein, but I really have my head buried deep in a book I had borrowed from the library two blocks away. As grateful as I am to Master Mullein for taking me in, my world here is small and uneventful. And, as plentiful and warm as the springs and summers here in Adrycia are, they’re fleeting, and the following seasons of autumn and winter are long and brutal. As much as I hate my home country of Larayssi, I miss the infinite spring and neverending warmth that I now crave so much.
But I know that I can never go back.
I hear the stairs behind me in the back of the shop creak as Master Mullein descends from our small living space above the store.
“Olly?” He calls out my nickname, shortened from Oleander. It isn’t my real name, and he knows that, but he doesn’t pry as long as I don’t give him much reason to.
“Yes?” I reply, quickly shutting my book and tossing it onto a growing stack at my feet, hopefully unbeknownst to my employer.
“Are you finished with the blend I assigned you over an hour ago?” He raises a bushy eyebrow at me before turning away to pluck more herbs and spices from the stuffed shelves lining the walls.
I throw him a sheepish smile before replying with a quick ‘yes’. I then proceed to pour the ground mixture into a small glass bottle, shove in the cork, and grab my quill and ink to label the bottle on the paper wound and taped around the bottle.
Master Mullein stalks over and snatches the newly labeled bottle from my hand, eyeing it warily before glancing at me and sighing, tucking the bottle away on the shelf used for finished orders, ready for customer pick up.
“If you didn’t somehow manage to always finish the orders on time, I would have a problem with how much time you waste on books,” he mutters, and I look away. It’s not like there’s much else to do in the small town of Zyri except read or grind herbs. Well, that’s not strictly true, you could shop for almost anything and everything, but this was not a pastime that I could partake in, seeing as I'm not paid, just working for a place to stay at Master Mulleins.
It was only midday and Zyri was already buzzing with life. More life than usual, in fact, because not only was the Royal Family of Adrycia visiting the town’s crops, but they were also gathering contenders for the Sayn, the Royal Knights of Adrycia. They're said to be the most powerful warriors throughout the entire land of Abohar. The Sayn are drafted from all over Abohar, traveling to Adrycia to compete in the Tournament of Entlea, named after the first of the Sayn. Entlea was said to have Theuros, an ancient magic that manifests in one's eyes. Based on the color of one’s eyes, warmer or cooler in color, along with the clarity of the eyes can tell how much Theuros that person has flowing through their body. My eyes, much to my dismay in my yearning for a peaceful life, are a stark and clear icy blue. So cool, in fact, that they were often mistaken for white. This caused some problems, so I’ve been wearing contacts since my escape from Larayssi, and there have still been no sign of these ‘powers’ I am supposed to be able to wield, but honestly it would just be a bigger problem if I could use them.
“Olly, I need you to go to Dianthus’ shop, my new order of bottles should be ready by now.” I nod my head, standing while grabbing my worn leather bag and slinging it over my shoulder. I weave my way through the tall and plentiful stacks of books, potted plants, and other clutter towards the front of the shop. The bell jingling as I step out into the busy street. I turn right to head towards the glassware shop that sells things from cutlery to decorations, and, much to our benefit, they take special orders, such as the small glass bottles we often use to store our herbs and concoctions. The shop is owned by a little old man named Dianthus, who is now much too old to blow any glass without coughing up a lung, so he has all four of his sons employed in his shop.
I push open the shop door, stepping into the dimly lit store to see Dianthus alone sitting on a stool labeling what appear to be vases.
“Ah, Oleander,” He grumbles, peering up at me through his small, round, wire-rimmed glasses, “I take it you’re here for Mullein’s order?” I nod and step forwards as he leans down, pulling a wooden crate out from under his desk. Hauling it up, he limps over towards me. “Don’t worry, it’s already payed.” He limps back over to his desk after I lift it into my arms. I nod in thanks, turning to leave. I’m just pushing open the door with my foot when he calls out to me again, “Oh, and Olly,”
“Yes, sir?” I turn back around to face him.
“I assume you are aware of our royal visitors arriving tomorrow?” Dianthus raises a thin eyebrow at me.
“Yes, sir, I am aware.” I answer, hefting the box up onto my hip.
“Then I’m sure you are aware that you should be extremely careful this week, Olly.” He gives my a pointed look over his glasses. I furrow my brows.
“I’m not sure I understand, sir.” I reply.
“Get on your way, now, boy.” He waves a hand at me, signaling my exit. He doesn’t have to tell me twice, and I make a beeline out of the store and back towards the herb shop. I place the box outside of the door and continue down the road.
At the west end of town is a forest. It’s not heavily traversed due to the lack of large game, so it's made it easy to build a hideout. I make it to the edge of town and quickly hop the short stone wall dividing the town from the trees beyond. I wander a ways, winding through the green trees turning into lovely golds and reds.
It’s been two years since I arrived in Zyri, and I’m now 17. It doesn’t surprise me that someone managed to figure out who I am. I had come to Zyri with a message from my old… friend… Yarrow, to his old friend, who happens to be Master Mullein. So, I’m just barely employed when news reaches town that the Cursed Prince of Larayssi has escaped. Dianthus is a smart man, so it makes sense that he would be the one to find out. But he is also a peaceful man, and I think he's also aware of the consequences of my recapture.
So it’s a good thing that most have forgotten about me, and the enormous bounty on my live body. The only problem is, the Royals of Adrycia have met me before. Well, just the prince.
Once, when I was very young, I had escaped my room and was wandering around in the Royal Garden. Before I was found, I remember running into a small boy. He had remarked at my black hair due to his knowledge that all Larayssians are blonde, and I had laughed at him and suggested we play. We had run through the large maze of trimmed bushes all day, until the Spring sun had sapped our strength, and we lay, exhausted, in the shade of a small tangerine tree in comfortable silence, that is, until Yarrow had found us, picked me up and told me, “Young prince, say goodbye, I’m afraid it’s time for supper.”
I was then taken back to my room and left there. I remember that I didn’t get to eat dinner that night.
I pluck a browning leaf from a tree and roll it between my fingertips as I walk. The breeze that wafts through my hair is chilly, though not unpleasant, and the sun peaking through the golden leaves does nothing to warm me, but dances in beautiful patterns across my pale skin and the forest floor beneath me. The forest is my favorite place. It’s quiet yet not silent, always teeming with small signs of life around every corner. The whistle of the wind through the trees, the chirping of birds soaring high above me, the soft babble of the small creek a few miles in, and the chitter of squirrels gathering food for the upcoming winter.
The forest thickens as I go on with the addition of bushes, underbrush, and more trees. I make a sharp left at the two fallen trees, laying perfectly on top of each other as if a barrier to intruders. In another thirty or so feet, I come across a wall of prickly blackberry bushes shrouded in shadow from the surrounding redwoods. I walk along the wall until I find the small patch of dead brush. I carefully pick it up, making sure not to prick myself, and move it to the side. I kneel and gingerly wriggle my way through the small hole. I pull the dead vines back into place, and slide through the rest of the thick blackberry bush wall. When I exit on the other side I see the familiar clearing. It’s small, just big enough for me to lay down in comfortably, and the floor is lined with soft mosses collected after days of wandering the forest searching. It is completely hidden from the outside world, and still shaded from the large trees that reach out over the clearing. But there’s still just barely enough space to see the stars at night, peeking through the leaves of the giant trees.
I shove my leather bag to the side and lay down, folding my arms under my head. I had spent a good hour traversing the woods to arrive at my special hideout, and what was previously afternoon was now quickly turning to evening. The sky was beginning to darken, and my guess at the time would leave it around seven or eight.
My last thoughts as I start to drift off are of how angry Master Mullein is going to be when I’m late for dinner tonight.
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