Page 5 of Legends of Sorcery
“The unicorns have names?” Garron couldn’t resist asking.
Arion shrugged. “Some do. This one does.” He wasn’t about to explain to Garron how Callia was his only true friend in this world. No matter what it took, he vowed to save her.
A rustle in the underbrush nearby startled them both. Much to Garron’s surprise, the dying unicorn moved to protect Arion, but he ran his hand gently across her soft coat and whispered soothing words to calm her.
Garron almost forgot about the noise as he stared in fascination.
The intruder stepped out from behind her cover.
Garron’s jaw dropped as he saw the princess and quickly dropped to his knees. “Your highness,” he said not daring to look upon her.
Arion reacted in a much different way seeing Princess Valaria for the first time. He rose, wincing from the pain in his knee, and scolded her.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“Excuse me?” the Princess asked. “I don’t see what business that is of yours.”
“Perhaps your father’s business then? I’m sure he’d be quite grateful to hear where his precious daughter is.”
Her eyes were wide in surprise and dancing with the fire of fury. “Do you dare threaten your Princess?”
Chapter 3
Princess Valaria couldn’t believe the audacity of the commoner standing there threatening her. She was secretly impressed too. No one ever spoke to her this way.
Choosing to ignore her altogether, Arion tapped Garron with the toe of his boot. “Get up. We don’t have time for this.” Then, he turned back to her. “If you’re sticking around, the least you can do is help.”
Valaria perked up. No one ever asked her to do anything. To most she was nothing more than a worthless spoiled little girl. She had already seen nineteen years pass. She was not a child, though everyone treated her as one, especially her father.
After her initial shock wore off, Valaria observed what the boys were doing and quickly set about gathering larger sticks and smaller fallen branches to add to the pile they were forming.
"What is this for?" she finally asked as sweat trickled down her back.
Perhaps the corset and dress she was wearing were not entirely appropriate for such activities, but her mother had always frowned upon her fondness of britches. Since her mother's death she had taken to wearing nothing but dresses as a way to feel closer to her. Grief constricted her heart as she thought of her mother.
"I need to make a stretcher of some sort to help carry Callia back to the stables," Arion said.
"Carry her? Are you insane?" Valaria retorted.
"Do I look insane?" he asked. "Don't answer that. You know what? No one asked you to come here, your highness," he spat out.
"You'll be lucky if I don't have you thrown in the dungeon. How dare you speak to me that way! What is your name?" she demanded.
"Arion," he replied.
Her eyes widened in surprised. "Arion? The next High Keeper of Magic?"
"Does everyone know this with certainty but me? I haven't even been officially offered the apprenticeship," he mumbled under his breath.
"But you were chosen," Valaria said.
"As a child," Arion defended. "I cannot be officially named apprentice until my twentieth year, and it is my choice," he told her defiantly.
"Zallon has lived many moons, Arion, and never once has even considered taking an apprentice--until you."
"You really think I don't know that? That somehow you're the only one bound by duty to the kingdom? I'm not discussing this right now. Besides, how do you even know that? I've lived with Zallon most of my life. I've been private tutored for much of that time. How do either of you even know me?" He was getting angry, worried for Callia and feeling trapped by the attention. Arion was used to being invisible, keeping to himself, or at least that's what he had thought all these years.
"Everyone knows who you are," Garron assured him. "Much in the same way everyone knows who she is, though most of us common folk never dream of actually meeting and talking to either of you. Wait? Am I dreaming? Am I going to wake up and find out none of this happened?"
