Trick of the Light: Prologue

Dartimen slumped into the antique high-backed chair that had once graced the study of a king whose name he couldn’t remember and whose treasures he’d long since squandered. He stared blankly at the empty pages in front of him and exhaled loudly, trying desperately to think of something to write. However, it wasn’t the subject matter that confounded him. He wanted to write the story of his life, or more specifically his life up until this point, which he decided couldn’t be any less interesting than any other person’s life.

He scratched his head with the fresh quill that had yet to find its way into the inkwell. Nothing was coming to him, and he began to get frustrated. The stories he had been telling for years to entertain his friends new and old were trapped in his head.

Across the room, his wife Cassandra stirred in her sleep. Dartimen glanced over and frowned; his exasperation seemed to be troubling her normally peaceful repose. He turned to his desk and looked over the collection of books, trinkets, and more importantly the blank pages scattered in front of him. Scooping them up as quickly and quietly as he could, he crept towards the door and stopped at the coat rack to fetch the hat he was never without.

If he was going to break into his own mind and finish his literary caper, it had to be done in style. With an armful of paper and writing tools, he turned to steal another glance at the still-sleeping Cassandra.

Dartimen easily forgot himself while with her. The soft white light of the shattered moon Argentiss shone softly through the stained glass windows of their bedroom, bathing her still, sleeping figure in an elaborate array of multicolored moonlight. The soft ebon shine to her hair partially hid her face and gave her already tanned skin a warm glow.

He smiled happily, and for a brief moment, his vexations left him. Dartimen turned his attention back to the thick oak door and deftly turned the knob. He skulked into the hallway, failing to notice that Cassandra was awake, a single eye opened to watch him go.

He slowly walked out of the converted cathedral that was his home and inhaled deeply the night air that greeted him. The tropical sea breeze cleared his mind and revitalized his body. The remains of the celebration earlier that evening were still scattered about. It was to Dartimen’s delight that his friends and their families had made the clearing near his home their unofficial town square.

Nearly every night, the island’s denizens gathered there to eat, drink, and forget the troubles of their day. He wandered past the mess, deciding it was best to forget about it for now. It would most assuredly be there to greet him in the morning. He yawned and stretched his arms out, feeling more awake by the moment. With his favorite hiding spot calling, Dartimen made his way down a wooded path away from his home and towards the beach.

The sound of waves lapping against the shore grew louder and louder as a cool sea breeze danced across his face. The damp earth beneath his feet soon yielded to a shore of soft white sand.

He casually strolled down the shore, stopping only to let his feet get buried in seawater and sand before continuing. While the sea cooled his feet, his attention was fixed on the expanse of ocean before him. It was the sea that called to him, at least at first.

Some of his fondest memories were sailing aboard an old ship called the “Blind Albatross” with his mentor, the notorious pirate and explorer Riven Harshtide, and his best friend Aradir Skyblade—now commander of the Steel Dragoon mercenaries. In an instant, years of adventures flooded back to him. All of them with the promise that in the end there was something new to see.

That’s what he loved about the ocean. It was the gateway to a world of infinite adventures. His eyes followed the crests of waves to the horizon, where his gaze and his thoughts turned skyward. Stars sparkled in the night sky, the perfect complement to the shimmering sea below. It was the reason he had chosen this place to make his home.

The tiny island provided many things, but above all else, he cherished the solitude. Alone for miles in all directions, and the sea providing a natural barrier between the notorious thief and those who pursued him. As long as he remained here, he could live in peace without the need to constantly look over his shoulder. Nights like this were his alone to enjoy.

Dartimen continued his walk down the beach towards his favorite hiding spot. A small divot in the beach that dipped into the surrounding forest slightly. The spot was hidden from plain sight and provided a spectacular view of Aurith lowering into the ocean. He loved to watch as the sky became a spiral of colors before melting away into a newly born night sky.

With his mind lost in memory, Dartimen failed to notice that he’d been inadvertently following two sets of small footprints in the sand.

He suddenly caught the smell of spiced peach tea amidst the pungent sea breeze. He sniffed the air, trying to locate the source of the smell. Cassandra made tea all the time, but she was asleep and nobody else would be up so late.

Dartimen frowned, realizing that the smell was coming from his hiding spot. His eyes narrowed as he tried to decide what to do with these invaders and their delicious-smelling tea. He silently hoped he would be able to dispatch them quickly and quietly. Only then would the scones be his.

Strolling along the beach, he grew more and more convinced that the smell was coming from his destination. A low growl followed by the sound of quiet, hushed laughter stopped him in his tracks. He hid behind a boulder and listened in, trying not to laugh. When he heard the sound of pouring, he stepped out from his hiding spot to find a fox kit sitting on its haunches staring at him intently.

Sitting next to it was a little girl of no more than 7 winters old. She sat on a soft cotton blanket and before her, she had managed to set up a small table along with several cups and saucers. In her hands, she held a hot teapot she had been warming on a pile of stones from the bonfire near the house. The mirror image of her mother, but with bright blue eyes.

She froze, realizing that she was now talking to herself and was no longer alone. She slowly turned around, batting at the hair in her face. Starting at his feet, she stared wide-eyed and scanned upward only to be met with Dartimen’s face grinning back at her.

“Hi Daddy!” she squealed, her eyes vanishing to make room for her smile.

Dartimen chuckled. “Hi honey.” He said with as much seriousness as he could muster. “I see you’re enjoying some tea. I beg your pardon, my dear, please forgive my interruption.” With that, he turned as if to walk away.

She sprang to her feet and grabbed his shirttail. “No! No! Stay! You can have tea with us!”

Dartimen spun around and scooped her up, as she giggled happily. “Very well, I accept!” He set her down in the sand and wrapped the blanket around her snugly. The kit crawled under the table and reappeared on the other side, curiously glancing between its companions.

“Kyra… honey,” he placed a finger on the tip of her nose and stared into her eyes as he did with all his children when he wanted their undivided attention. Kyra tried to stare at the offending finger but ended up crossing her eyes. She braced herself for a talking-to. “It’s late, what are you and Lucky doing awake, much less outside?”

Emotion drained from her face as she searched for an answer, trying to come up with any reason that might somehow get her out of trouble. “I don’t know…” was all she could come up with. Lucky, her fox, stared up at her, trying to convey some kind of message but to no avail.

Dartimen chuckled and waved a dismissive hand. “It’s alright kiddo, let’s have some tea, then it’s back to bed, okay?” He removed his hat and placed it over the child’s head, hiding most of it in the process. She lifted it over her eyes, balancing it on her forehead.

Kyra beamed and nodded in agreement. “Okay!”

With that, she knelt down, wiggled out of the blanket, and poured three small cups of tea. Carefully lifting the saucer, Kyra handed the first cup to her father. She slid one cup and saucer across the table for Lucky, who put his paws on the table and cautiously lapped up the steaming liquid. When she had poured her own, Dartimen raised his cup and took a sip.

The fox kit was a recent addition to their family. Kyra loved to play and hide in the woods on the island. Since Dartimen and Cassandra had long ago inspected the area for potential dangers to their wandering offspring, they felt secure in letting them have the run of the place. Cassandra was skilled with the use of scrying sorcery, so keeping an eye on them was a simple task.

However, one day almost a year ago, Kyra didn’t come home on time, which was nothing out of the ordinary. She often lost track of time when she went exploring. On that day, however, a sudden storm had taken the island, and while normally brave, 6-year-old Kyra was terrified of thunderstorms.

At the first crack of thunder, Cassandra rushed to the door to collect her child. She swung it open and found Kyra with a tiny fox kit in her arms. A quick explanation on Kyra’s part as she scooted past her mother was that the animal was hurt, his name was Lucky, and she would be looking after him for the time being. When her mother asked her why she had chosen the name, Kyra was obviously hiding something. Though her only reply was that she had asked the fox and he told her that’s what his name was.

In all her wanderings, she had never brought a creature home. She had never asked for a pet, nor did she make any hint about ever wanting one. The look on her mud-splattered face, however, dictated that not only was she going to take care of this fox, it would be staying with her.

As time went on, they became a mischievous duo. One was never far from the other, and it was clear to everyone on the island that she and Lucky shared some kind of bond beyond that of mistress and pet. Certain arcane abilities are passed through bloodlines, and as the years went by, it became obvious that Kyra had inherited some of these powers.

What form they took was usually a mystery until they first manifested, and it was unheard of for such an ability to appear in a child so young. Her brothers, Saren and Riven, never paid much attention to her anyway, and her older sister Kayllia didn’t seem to mind, but the other children her age on the island found it unsettling, which is why Kyra normally spent time alone. Until that is, she met Lucky.

Having no head for such things, Dartimen quietly acknowledged the animal and was grateful to have it around. Lucky seemed to keep just as protective an eye on his daughter as he or Cassandra would, and for that reason the fox was allowed to stay.

Dartimen, once again lost in thought, snapped to attention as Kyra, now standing in front of him, was poking his nose.

“Daddy? Daddy?” she repeated.

The elf leaned back and met her fingertip to fingertip trying to push her backward in a mock test of strength. “What is it, kitten?”

Kyra plopped down in the sand and curled up next to her father. Dartimen once again wrapped her in her blanket. “Daddy…? Why are you awake?” she said curiously, trying to get comfortable.

“I guess you’re old enough to know…” he started. He glanced around to make sure nobody else was listening, then leaned down and whispered into Kyra’s ear. “…Mommy snores. Loud.”

Kyra giggled and hugged Dartimen. “Maybe she’ll stop soon.”

Dartimen hugged her back and sighed, shaking his head in defeat. “No - She won’t.”

Seemingly satisfied, Kyra curled herself into a ball and called for Lucky, who ran over to lay down next to her. For a long time it was silent. There were so few opportunities to enjoy a quiet moment to himself as a younger man, and more recently he tried to make sure he didn’t miss out on any more—especially any time he could spend with his children. These days Dartimen was content to lounge about on the island enjoying the fruits of his career.

His days were spent visiting with friends and wandering about the island just to see how everyone was faring. His life as a wanted criminal was behind him at last. The infamous Jack of Diamonds, the greatest thief on Erith, had finally and officially retired.

Dartimen turned away from the sea and looked down at his daughter. His thoughts drifted back to why he had in fact come out. The unpleasant matter of his precious stories being stuck in his head. He stared out into the sea, deciding that maybe writing was best left to the poets and scholars.

To his shame, Dartimen had never spent much time in school, but he had long ago decided that the written word was not the path to his fame and fortune. Now, when he actually needed the skill, the chance had long since passed him by. His mind began to wonder if the life he had chosen was the right decision.

Maybe the one thing that truly mattered was giving his family a name that carried respect. Not the moniker of a wanted man. Dartimen stretched his back against the driftwood he was leaning on. As interesting and fun as his adventures may have been, had it all been worth it?

“What’s wrong, Daddy?” Kyra’s little voice chirped, filled with sudden concern.

He smiled trying to reassure her. “It’s nothing angel, c’mon. Let’s get you back to bed.”

Kyra squeezed his arm in protest. “No, No! Let’s stay a little longer!” she turned her emerald eyes at him, begging. “Please?”

He nodded slightly, relenting to her pleas. “Okay, okay. You’re not too cold, are you?”

Kyra shook her head and went back to studying the ocean.

Dartimen gently stroked the hair away from her face as she lay there. Both of them lost together on what may as well have been a deserted island. He had come here to think, and his mind was still an aching blank. For now the serenity of the moment had chased away his frustration and left him feeling more confused than ever.

He looked down at his child who was drifting in and out of sleep. “Kyra…?” he whispered.

“Hmm?” she responded, squirming to get comfortable.

“You like it when Mommy and I read you stories, right?”

“Yeah.” She yawned. “I like the stories you tell the best.”

He smiled proudly. “Thanks kiddo.”

She grabbed his arm, snuggling against it as she was drifting off to sleep. The hour of her late-night outing was finally catching up with her. Lucky had already fallen asleep, and Kyra wasn’t far behind. Where one went, so did the other. She was fading fast, and Dartimen decided she wouldn’t remember such a silly question, but he couldn’t find the courage to risk sounding like a fool in front of his child. Kyra let out a single exhausted yawn. It was now or never.

“Honey? How should Daddy start his book of stories?”

The question hung in the air for a long time, and he thought that she had fallen asleep and not heard it. Dartimen sighed and looked up at the stars; his answer would come to him eventually, for now, he would just have to wait. Then from beneath him, he heard Kyra mutter softly, her final thought before drifting off to sleep.

“Once upon a time,” she whispered.

Dartimen stared at her slack-jawed. The words nearly knocked the wind from him. It was so simple. He leaned over and kissed the top of Kyra’s head. Shaking his own in disbelief, he relaxed against the driftwood and shut his eyes, his mind finally at ease.

Hidden among magical shadows not far from them, Cassandra wiped the tears from her eyes and held a hand over her mouth to try and discourage any more from following. She snuck out of the house and followed Dartimen, knowing exactly where he was going but not sure why. Normally when he wandered off alone, he was just looking for a sympathetic ear or a good place to take a nap. Tonight was the first time she was happy that someone else had beaten her to him. When she was certain they were asleep, she snuck over and draped them in another large blanket she had taken from their bed. She knelt down at the table and arranged the collection of blank pages and ink Dartimen had brought with him. She selected a single piece of paper, dipped the quill in the ink, and in the flowing handwriting of a master calligrapher, she began to write.

The morning came and Dartimen awoke to the sun shining on his face and the morning sea air around him. He sat up, and was met with all the sights and sounds of another beautiful day on his island. Immediately noticing the familiar bedspread he smiled and raised its corner to check on Kyra, it came as no surprise that she and Lucky had already scampered off. Amidst the remains of her late-night party were his writing supplies. His quills and ink well had been neatly arranged alongside a fresh stack of parchment. Two pieces of paper sat apart from the rest. One lay flat on the table, the other rolled into a scroll. He picked up the single sheet.

“Get to work mister,” was all it read.

He then reached for the scroll and unrolled it. In the finest display of Cassandra’s calligraphy he had ever seen was written only the phrase “Once upon a time…” Dartimen looked over to the inkwell, then back at the scroll. He lay it out flat, dipped the quill in the ink and paused for a moment.

There was only one place to start. A snowy night, a not-so-friendly game of King’s Gambit and yet another angry woman. It certainly sounded like a prelude to war.