PRINCE NEFARI

THE PALACE WAS MOSTLY empty. Prince Nefari found that to be odd. Father would never do something so ridiculous. Despite the occasional guard, Nefari couldn't call out for help. The elf was strangely powerful and she clearly had the means to overpower a guard. Even if Nefari helped the guard, he wasn't sure if the commoner would help.

The elf lead them along the corridor, pausing to check around the corner. She held up her hand and turned to look at them.

"There are no guards outside the dungeon doors. What's your take, prince?" she asked, eyes narrowing at him.

Nefari rolled his eyes. How would he know? Things were odd enough already. If Father had pulled guards away from the dungeon, then it had to be a trap. An ambush perhaps? Father would have suspected his disappearance hours ago, leaving plenty of room for the guards to set up a trap to lure the kidnapper out. Surely, the elf wouldn't be that stupid and had a plan to infiltrate the dungeon without being caught. And apparently, he was to make the plan before she decided for him.

The commoner spoke first. "It's a trap. We'll be caught if we go that way."

"Precisely," the elf said.

"There are hidden passages all around the palace," Nefari said. "I saw a drawing of them once in my father's study. I remember one was labeled with a red ink."

The elf turned to him. "Do you remember what was on the map?"

"Vaguely," he affirmed.

The commoner looked at the stone tiled floor. "I had heard rumors of palace's secret passages to help the royal family escape in times of trouble. Is that what happened six years ago?"

Nefari narrowed his eyes. That night only brought back horrible memories of mother's death and Nefari wanted to forget it completely.

"Sorry for bringing up troubled memories. I lost my family around that time too," the commoner said sorrowfully. "It's just Queen Kendra would have wanted to help you and Princess Lelan escape without being seen by the dragon. I thought that was common sense for the palace to have safeguards."

With a huff, Nefari crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t expect you to understand why talking about my mother is forbidden.”

“I know, I know. Simply put, those passages should lead to an exit outside the palace as well when we leave the dungeon.”

“This palace was built centuries ago, commoner. These passages lead anywhere within the palace. Only the royal family knows of them, and their advisor to the king.”

“Great. Let’s go capture the advisor if you don’t know the way,” the elf commented.

Nefari blinked. The elf had lost their mind. Taking the advisor prisoner would escalate things. Father had enough to worry about already. He wouldn’t add to it.

“No, I remember one passage around here. It’s behind a painting of King Malark II. I’ve used it before, but the passages are like a labyrinth. From what I discovered, ancient runes are carved into the walls and glow faintly when touched by something containing magick.”

“Runes?” The elf arched her eyebrows. “What kind are we talking? Dwarven? Elven? Draconic?”

“I don’t know. I never studied those runes.” Nefari shrugged.

“Take me to this painting.”

The elf motioned for Nefari to start walking, her hand touching the dagger at her hip. Nefari turned around and snuck down the hallway with the elf and commoner following him. He paused at the end, looking both way to see the hallway empty save for a small tressym hunting a mouse. He noticed its gray wings matched its silvery tabby coat. That tressym belonged to his sister.

Turning right down the hallway, he continued on until he paused at a massive portrait of a man with thick ginger hair and striking green eyes that were brought out by his freckles. He wore plated armor with the emblem for the royal family, a navy blue cloak draped over his shoulder with the ruffled black fur from a displacer beast. This was King Malark II.

“Here he is,” Nefari said as he stood up.

He reached for a candelabra. He twisted the metal piping and a clink noise could be heard. The painting creaked open, revealing a small tunnel with spiderwebs and old cobblestones.

The elf was the first to step toward it, her pupils dilating to absorb as much light as they could in the darkness. She took a step inside and shivered. Nefari followed behind her, also shivering when the temperature dropping drastically. A puff of cold air left his lips. Yes, this was the passage he had grown accustomed to over the years. The commoner followed last with the painting closing the passage behind them.

From there, they began their trek through the darkness, a single torch from the elf’s bag glowing with green fire. For what seemed like hours, the three of them traversed the passages, lighting another torch when one would go out.

The elf paused. She doused the flame quickly, shutting everyone in eternal blackness as she ran her fingers over the cold, damp stones. With a snap of her fingers, they glowed orange when she reached into her bag and produced a small leather-bound book. She ended the magick on her fingers with a shake of her hand and held the book up to the wall. It took a moment, but a set of delicate, claw-like runes began to glow an eerie lavender.

“Seek the darkness, travel up. Seek the light, travel down,” the elf read. Her face scrunched up, puzzlement written across her features.

“I told you,” Nefari said. The runes began to dull in color, shrinking the passage into darkness once more. He touched one of the runes and it glowed again. “I don’t know why. But I can touch them and they glow.”

“Hm. I can see they are draconic, and written hastily. We should look for more,” the elf instructed.

“If there are more runes here,” the commoner mentioned, “shouldn’t we be concerned why they are written in draconic? Dragons are dangerous and forbidden. For someone to write in this language, they would have to be a traitor to the kingdom.”

Nefari pulled his hand away from the runes. “The only people who know draconic are my father, my sister, me, and the advisor.”

“Then the advisor is a traitor to you and working with the resistance to combat whatever evil lies over this kingdom.” The elf stuffed the book into her bag and took out another torch. She lit it with a snap of her fingers and green light engulfed the passage while the runes’ light vanished quickly, like a candle snuffled out. “The only way this passage continues is in a downward slope steep enough to be a slide. Are you ready?”

The elf leaped onto the slope and disappeared down at an alarming speed. Within the seconds the commoner followed her, leaving Nefari alone in the dark. He didn’t have much of a choice. Following their lead, he got onto the slope and took a breath, his body plunging deep into the darkness below.

Whooshes of air whistled in his ears as the slope curved and bended before twisting into a straight line and the faint flow of orange torchlight came from a round gap. With no way to slow his speed, Nefari squeezed his eyes shut and then he was flying through the air. He opened his eyes to see himself sailing toward a the commoner and the elf, who laid sprawled on the ground. Crashing into them, he groaned, his body half-covering the commoner’s legs.

“Oof. Not doing that again,” the elf grunted, shoving the commoner off her.

The commoner groaned, rolling over and rubbing their forehead. They sat up, strands of ivory hair falling into their heterochromia eyes. Grime covered their blacksmith apron as well as all over his pants. The elf appeared to have the same layer of grime covering her blouse and cloak.

Nefari dragged himself to his knees, shaking his head as he looked around the room. It was dimly lit by the torches while the walls here a greenish stone. Chains hung from the ceiling while a dripping noise could be heard. Laying on the ground a few feet from them was a grate that looked rusted over and broken. Two guards were near a set of iron door with runes inscribed onto the obsidian frame, drawing their swords for a battle.

The elf grunted as she got herself free. She narrowed her eyes at the guard and spoke the word fúmë. Golden sparkles circled one of the guards, his eyelids drooping. The guard slumped, his sword half-drawn as he tumbled to the ground unconscious.

The other guard fully drew his sword as the elven girl charged at him. She reached into a pouch tied to her belt and pulled out a handful of something clutched in her fist. She swung her arm at the guard, a spray of glimmering ocean blue powder at the guard’s face. He barely had any time to react, shaking his head as the powder covered his eyes and nose. He sneezed and attempted to wipe the powder from his face. A moment passed as he looked through his eyelashes at the elf, then he, too, slumped. She gave a sigh of relief as she closed the pouch and turned to look at them.

"We should should be safe now," she stated.

A low growl echoed through the chamber, causing the ground to quake. Nefari grabbed hold of the commoner's shoulder to steady himself. The trembling slowed over the course of a minute before the elf turned to look at the double doors. She read the inscription out loud, stating, "He who enters faces death. Judgement befalls upon the king's shoulders."

"It's elven this time, and very ancient," she mentioned. Gingerly touching the runes, she traced one. "I'd say these are early Quenya if anything. And judging by how old this door is, I can guess that this dungeon chamber is only for large and dangerous threats the kingdom needs to garner information from."

"Well, you wanted to show me that a black dragon is down here, so open the door," Nefari commanded.

The elf rolled her eyes. "A little help from the half-elf will go a long way."

For a moment, the commoner did nothing. They sat there rubbing their temple before standing up. While shooting a glare at the elf, they stalked over to the door and placed their hands on the handle. The elven girl copied him by taking the opposite handle. With a heave, they shoved against the massive doors. It took a few shoves until the door popped open with a groan and they stepped back. The elven girl wiped her brow, grimacing at the streak of grime left behind.

The room behind the doors was enormous with torches lining the malachite walls and thick chains hanging from the ceiling. Darkness engulfed the back end of the room, where the remains of a tattered teal carpet could barely be seen alongside a portrait of the royal family, the face of the late queen scratched out with large gashes that resembled claws. Large bones of cows and horses were left scattered along the sides of the room. The low rumble of breathing could be heard, indicating a sign of life was in there.

Nefari pushed past them, his eyes scanning the room for a sign of dragon scales or acid remains. The only sign he could find were scorch marks along the walls. A single thick chain hung to the floor, leading into the shadows. Nefari swallowed. Whatever was there wasn't good. He paused, his heart hammering in his chest.

Then, a single scaled dragon paw the size of a wagon reached out of the darkness, claws extended, and scraping across the stone floor.

"Can it be? Prince Nefari has finally come to pay me a visit?" came a low, gravely voice.