DESTRUCTIVE MYTH
Ghosts

They pushed through the night, through the storm, through the snow, one by one losing the Kazanian men sent after him.

He was amazed by the mare’s swiftness, it was not like the others he had ridden, extraordinarily fast, moving with such ease, they had hardly slowed down. Thankfully as stopping in such weather would have killed them before the men caught up.

The dark sky promised more snow, he needed to get them a shelter soon.

“Hea” He pushed the mare again losing the last man through the blizzard, Drathis couldn’t believe the horse hadn’t broken a sweat, he wondered then if by some miracle it was Dimas’s horse, moving with such grace, predicting his moves.

He leaned forward rubbing the horse’s ice neck and felt slightly stupid shaking his head he tried anyways.

“Galaxy?” Drathis called to her ear, the horse didn’t slow down it kept at its speed, no response, Drathis pulled back frowning at his stupidity.

A moment later in a clearing, the horse turned its head looking back at him as if responding to its name.

“Really?” Drathis burst out loud in laughter. “Dam, I must really like you if I picked you twice from a line-up.” He grinned, he had really missed her, nothing was going his way; he had spent endless nights in his cell envisioning his escape, none were close to what he had already gone through, but with this horse, perhaps not all was a loss.

They stopped for a while till strength was found to carry on, eventually, the flat plains grew uneven, hills sprung up everywhere slowing their speed, they made their way up the one hill pausing, there, a few hours ahead lay the Zitex Empire, he could just make out the castle’s walls behind the enormous city.

He moved Galaxy forward, it was bigger than any he had heard and begun to understand why Dimas wanted it, it was open from all sides with no blind spots, perfect defence.

A few miles from Zitex he slowed her down and looked for shelter, they needed rest before arriving.

“We will rest here then go.” He jumped off her back wincing slightly at the stiffness in his thighs, “here should protect us from the elements.” He stopped raising an eyebrow looking back at her, “You easy to talk to.” Chuckling to himself, Galaxy was a horse, that he had just spoken as a friend.

A gigantic fallen tree was their resting place with a large branch covered in snow like a canopy, he moved them under it out the howling wind.

He walked back out looking at Zitex after checking Galaxies legs making sure she was not injured.

The city had no signs of a blind spot where they could centre, in front of him lay a few scattered farm huts, but they seemed deserted.

“I have to get inside.” He whispered as Galaxy nudged him from behind. “We need to stock up on food and I need warmer clothing else we will never make it further north.”

They both stared at the city, dark clouds circled it and not a single light was on, not even in the city, it almost looked abandoned.

“There is something off about this place, I get an uneasy feeling.” He whispered, he shook his head turning back for cover, without his long hair his chest and neck were freezing.

They waited till most of the wind had died down, but he couldn’t wait any longer, he was freezing and nothing was dry enough to make a fire with.

“We need to get to one of the huts, perhaps there is something in there.”

They edged closer to one checking it out, indeed it was abandoned, windows were broken and half the door was hung open banging against the wall, he hopped off Galaxy pulling her inside the hut looking around.

It looked to have been uninhabited for many years, nothing was left in it.

“Shit, I just need to sit a little.” Drathis sat down in one corner warmer than before, rubbing his cols arms, and fell into a deep sleep.

* * * * *

“Stay hidden ill be back as soon as I can,” Drathis called out the Galaxy the next morning as he made his way towards the city, he paused to look back at her watching him; sighed, and walked down the heel.

Fresh snow had settled and he felt like a rabbit in the open expecting someone, anyone, to stop his approach, question him, or at least acknowledge a stranger entering?

But the streets were dead, most buildings were ruined, others had been burnt down and the stench of rotting meat and smoke drifted his way, he covered his nose wondering a good hour looking for any signs of life.

The deeper he ventured the more intensely he felt the uneasy feeling from before wash over him and he almost turned back, almost abandoned his quest for food and warmth.

It looked hopeless, nothing was open, nothing was alive, perhaps Queen Dimas had won and taken over Zitex and what lay before him was just a shell of what once was.

An ice wind howled past him like a ghost calling out in agony, twisting and turning till it disappeared around a corner, storm clouds bellowed above dark and threatening, it made the world seem so very black and grey, so very, very alone.

He paused halfway through the city deeming it pointless, he would have to carry forward to the next town, turning to leave he caught a shadow pass by him and spun around grabbing his sword, but there was nothing.

He turned again and spotted fast movement again, his gut sank.

Someone or something was following him, watching him, every time he turned his back it came closer to him faster than before, he spun around again in the empty wide street, nothing was there, just a few pieces of straw blowing across the street.

He finally decided to run back not wanting to stay here any longer, there were too many shadows.

He ran as fast as he could dunking and diving through abandoned stalls, forgotten wagons, and other dirt till he spotted a small light in the distance hoping the light would keep the demons back.

A small fire was burning surrounded by thin grey faces who looked at him skidding to a halt as if he was nothing more than another hopeless soul, then turned back to the fire for warmth, he edged closer to the fire and looked behind him to the streets, whatever had chased him was either his imagination or had decided to leave him be.

“What happened here?” He whispered to the men closest to him swaying gently with sleep.

The hollow face looked up at him, and Drathis almost flinched at his eyes, they were so broken, filled with so much pain, a ghost of a man wanting to die. He raised a slender shaking arm and pointed off into the distance, Drathis followed his arm until he was it.

There, at the city exit proudly stabbed into the bulked gates was the Black Maser flag.

How had he missed it?

“Is the Black Maser still here?”

The man shook his head, that was a relief.

“Is all of Zitex destroyed?” He asked looking around again, it looked to be.

The man shook his head again pointing to the castle, another spoke up then.

“Those with coin were invited to stay in the castle, it has been locked up tight since the war.” Spoke to an elderly man. “The city was destroyed, there is nothing left, sooner or later the castle will be attacked and defeated.”

“Then why are you all still here? It is clear your king has abandoned you.”

“Where are we to go?”

He wasn’t able to answer, their homes and loved ones were buried here, they would never survive tracking through the snow to the next town, they were damned if they stayed and damned sooner if they left. He looked back at the fire unable to think of anything more to say.

Heavy chains rattled as they hit the stone floor behind him, his muscles tensed and ached with cold but looking all around he spotted a cart being pulled by two poor boys. One ran to pick up the chains that had fallen and put them back on the cart returning to assist the other to pull it.

“Do you think we will replace more?”

“I hope so.”

“We hardly have enough to melt.”

“Our search is not over yet.”

Drathis listened carefully to the boys until they disappeared down the street picking up anything that contained metal, he wondered if it was to sell or make protection for themselves.

He stood with the men watching the castle’s gates, with the skies still threatening another storm he had to get supplies and head out soon, the castle seemed to be his only option.

Every hour the men on guard swapped sides, after the sixth hour another guard stepped forward out from the wall as they changed shifts.

Drathis clenched his jaw frustrated, it was too well guarded to get in without causing a scene, figures after the war it would be locked up tighter than ever.

He looked back up at the hills he had come from, they were like peas in size and Drathis hoped Galaxy was alright.

“This is useless!” He hissed punching the wall nearby, it shook dumping snow on his head, he stepped back shaking it off hearing hoofs in the distance, straining his ears he listened for the direction.

It sounded like two horses and wheels were coming straight towards them down the main street, sure enough, carried in with the wind came a vision of a shining black wood carriage, pulled by two black horses draped in black cloth. Drathis slipped away from the sleeping men climbing up onto the roof, edging closer to study it.

It wasn’t protected, it was either empty or the royal was brave enough to believe the city was empty.

The carriage kept on forward, horses whipped by a carriage boy looking slightly spooked, but warm, downright cozy Drathis thought.

“Jacket looks a bit small.” He mumbled to himself having already subconsciously decided that was his way in.

Just as it was about to pass, he took a few steps back then breathed in and took a running jump off the roof landing on the roof of the carriage soundlessly.

Shaking with cold he crept to the front keeping low, grabbed the coachman pulling him up to the roof, clamping a hand over his mouth wrapping his neck in his other arm till he became limp, pulled the uniform and cloak off him then threw him off grabbing the horse’s reins.

He peeked back, whoever was or wasn’t in the coach hadn’t noticed the disturbance. He sat down forcing his arms into the clothing sighing with relief, it just fitted, he was sure though if he breathed wrong it would rip.

Drathis steered the carriage up to the front gates and tried to relax, adrenaline pumping through his veins, the feeling of unease intensified the closer they got.

He pulled the horses to a stop in front of the castle gates, four out of the ten guards came forward heavily armed.

“Pass?” the one said as another two went to see who was in the carriage, they made whoever was inside unlock the door and step out, one went inside to inspect and came out letting the person get back in.

“PASS?” The soldier demanded getting aggravated, Drathis searched around his new coat and found a scroll, pulled it out, and gave it to the soldier hoping it was the right thing.

The soldier took it, read it, nodded, and handed it back to Drathis who placed it back in his coat.

“OPEN!” the soldier turned around shouting at the soldiers on top of the wall.

Two soldiers disappeared on either side, then horses grew restless as the heavy gates groaned and grinned across the stone floor.

He entered the kingdom and the unease in him turned to panic, there was an unwelcoming power here that was suffocating, the air was so tense he could almost reach out and touch it.

Drathis pulled to a stop by a line of soldiers waiting for him and watched as four carried a red carpet to the front of the carriage laying it down right up to the carriage door.

Looking up at the castle, it was a shadowy grey and was made in a spiral shape from thick to thin, twisting high up into the air, the top was covered by fog.

“Good work Arun.” The voice said as it stepped out of the carriage. Drathis turned to see who it was nodding in fake appreciation. He studied as the figure walk up to the entrance covered by a gray fur-lined cloak that dragged slightly behind on the floor.

Drathis pulled his hood closer around him as a guard approached him still sitting on the carriage.

“Slaves, workers, and messengers report to the back entrance.” The soldier said as if he had been saying it for years and was now sick of it. Drathis nodded, taking off in the general direction, hoping the suffocating pressure he was feeling would lighten, something was watching him, he sensed it. But each time he tried to pinpoint where it was coming from, he found nothing.

“I am not taking her bags in that’s all on you Arun.” A voice huffed pulling the horses to a stop patting the neck of the one, “You know where they go, hurry up before the ball starts.”

“Ball?” Drathis repeated stepping down from the carriage in confusion, the man stopped unclipping the horse’s chains to take him in.

“Who are you?”

In all his confusion he had forgotten to keep up the facade of Arun and watched the man judging him and his tight fitted uniform.

“Arun had the shits, I needed to step in and help.” Drathis lied looking down now at himself, he looked ridiculous, the buttons down his chest were on the verge of popping off and breaking windows.

“You look like an idiot.” The man snorted stepping closer wiping his hand on his shirt then pushing it out to shake his hand.

“Yup feel like one too.” Drathis nodded with a small rare smile, “Dray.” He took the man’s hand in a greet.

“Hannie.” He shook back laughing now as he took another look at Drathis. “Get in there, drop her bags and get a change of clothes, will you? The lady will not appreciate you representing her like that.”

Drathis ignored him thinking back to what had blown his whole cover as Arun.

“What ball?”

“Why do you care?” Hannie mumbled pulling the free horses forward towards a stable.

“Because of the war, the starving people outside the gate, have these royals got no,” Drathis begun to snap pointing back at where he had come from almost consumed with rage.

“Hold your tongue if you wanna keep it!” Hannie shouted cutting him off looking around, “You may be new here, but you forget your place, now take the lady’s things inside.” He hissed disappearing with the horses.

Drathis stood still taking in deep breaths, he needed to remind himself, the war was not his, he was here for supplies and the first carriage back out. Grabbing the bags on the back of the carriage he heard a rip then looked down to see his bicep peeking through the material, just great.

He grunted annoyed popping three buttons as he slung the bags over his shoulders making his way inside through the kitchen.

It was like walking into an auction where he was the last piece of cake and the kitchen ladies were starving beggars; many paused, others nudged those closest to them, while a select few did a head to floor sweep and carried on with the food preparations.

“My, hello gorgeous” An elder woman in her late forties winked wiping flour off her hands, waltzing up to him.

“Glenda!” Another protested rolling her eyes blushing as their eyes connected.

Drathis rose his right eyebrow nodding in greeting not saying a word, he could tell this sort of thing happened a lot when fresh meat entered through the door, first one to touch seemed to get their prize. With the war, which he was sure had been going on for a good few months, many soldiers would sneak in here for an escape, and these women seemed to love that they could take that sorrow away even if for just a few hours.

The woman who was now identified as Glenda slipped her hand around his waist pulling at his tight uniform threatening to pop more buttons.

“Nice to meet you, Glenda.” He said softly trying not to make a scene, pulling her touchy hands away making his way past.

“No don’t leave pretty boy, stay, play.” She winked ignoring the shove going to grab him again, this time popping five more buttons, the uniform gave way exposing his chest and torso, she gasped in excitement taking him in greedily.

He stepped back looking down at her hardening his face.

“No, replace someone else.” He stared her down till she got the hint then turned away.

Stepping out of the kitchen, he put the bags down pulling the cloak closer trying to cover himself up when he heard someone approaching down the hall clearing their throat.

“What the bloody hell now.” He grumbled looking up.

“Sir the ball starts in a few, we can’t have you attend dressed so, so, unprepared.” A servant said with a look of stunned confusion on his face, “I was so sure you were sent off to prepare, please forgive me, sir, we will get you cleaned immediately.” He snapped his fingers calling two others to collect the bags and beckoned Drathis forward.

Drathis watched the servant with aggravation, it was clearly mistaken identity, he didn’t want to be pampered and dressed for a ball, he wanted to be left alone to get… His thought froze.

Whoever he was mistaken to be was someone of importance, money.

“Fine.” He grumbled following the servant, he would bathe, dress, show face at the ball then take the cover as a means to get out sooner.

Entering the room Drathis felt sick to his stomach, whoever it belonged to was the source of dark power he had felt, he froze observing it closely while the servants assisted in his undress, slight panic gripped him again as he took off the robe shaking his hair, they would see his ears. The rough cut of his hair provided some cover so they weren’t so obvious anymore, but standing so close could reveal what he was.

Stripped down they begun to sponge off the dirt, if they had noticed they knew better than to speak.

The one from before ran to fetch dress robes pulling down three dark-coloured ones letting him choose, he noticed then that as assisting and dedicated they were to whose identity he had stolen, they never looked him in the eyes, they seemed to speak to his chest or the floor. Only fear or duty could do that, he wondered if it wasn’t a bit of both.

A cold shiver ran down his spine as the final layer of clothing fitted on him like a glove, as if they were made for him, perfectly formed, the unease, intensified.

He scanned the room looking for any tell sign of who he was supposed to be; there were weapons displayed on the walls but apart from that the room was simple, bare, except for a desk piled with thick books and parchment inked with a heavy rushed hand, he moved closer touching them, skimming through war instructions, and what looked to be a map of the tunnels running under the castle.

“Sir?”

Drathis spun around forgetting himself, he needed to know more, he needed to know why his skin was tingling, why this room seemed to want him doomed.

“Yes?” He asked in a gruff voice.

“The king will need you at the ball,” The servant said trying to explain the urgency of them attending without upsetting him.

After a long walk, he could hear cheery music flowing through the halls, it enraged him all over.

The entire kingdom was in lockdown due to a war they had clearly lost, their people were dead, those left dying and starving, yet here in this castle, they held a feast, despicable.

“Would you like to be announced, sir?” The servant asked as they reached two double doors, Drathis nodded, being announced might help bring light as to who he was supposed to be. He was betting on the announcement to shock the man, who Drathis could feel in his bones was in there, he was nauseous from the feeling, his mind raced for an explanation.

Whoever the man was, he was somehow linked to Dimas, perhaps a spy like Sural was, yet Sural didn’t give him this sick, chilling, hair raising, neck sweating panic in the pit of his stomach.

The doors opened and he was announced.

“Sir Galaleiath.”

The room froze.

Drathis’s heart stopped, had he just said, his brother’s full name?