Robert Finch 

Nov 30, 2003 

Mrs. Johnson 

Period 5 

And the third part begins with the son of Algarsyf and Theodora, widowed emperor and deceased empress of Tartary, who is on a quest to discover the meaning of a vision his father saw in the magic mirror. 

Dismounting from his horse, Dendala methodically gathered the clothes and other things he would need during his stay. When he finally had everything, he reached up to his steed's ear and turned a small pin. Slowly, the horse faded until it had completely vanished. Tossing a worn cloak over himself, he began picking his way across the muddy ground. 

As he walked, Dendala paid little mind to his surroundings. It seemed he had seen a million border towns while campaigning with his father; and this one appeared far from extraordinary. His mind was focused more upon the road behind him than the road ahead. He had come here at the vehement behest of his father, and he had done so respectfully and nearly without question. For Algarsyf, though, nearly was not good enough. Recently, the old man had become increasingly paranoid. It seemed his past victories were no longer enough to satisfy him. Now, he insisted on removing all opposition from his path. Dendala remembered the night of his departure all too well. 

*** 

"Do you not respect me? Are you even a bit grateful for all I have done for you?" Algarsyf asked sternly. His stone hard face showed little emotion aside from what his eyes held. 

"Yes, Father, I do and I am. That is why I question this command," said Dendala, trembling. "I simply believe that you have begun to put too much worth in what the mirror foretells, and too little in what your people desire.” 

"You are mine to command! I have cared for you and held you under the protective wing of my estate. Do not dare to question my authority over you, or my people." The aging man stepped forward to stand nearer his kneeling son. "You will take only small weapons. They are easier to conceal. I will loan you Aramis for this small ordeal. I think you will find flying to be quite enjoyable.” His tone had become quiet again, but it was far from kind. 

"I refuse to do this, Father. Flying on the brass horse, Aramis, is a small boy's dream. It was mine long ago, but not any longer.” Rising up, Dendala stared into his father's eyes for a small moment before turning to stalk away. As he reached the stairs, his ears caught the old man's call. He stopped momentarily and spoke without turning to face Algarsyf. "Since Mother died, you have been obsessed with power. I will not feed the evil that festers inside your soul." 

Algarsyf ambled closer, replying, "Your mother understood the power of the mirror. She also understood my hope of gifting you with a grand empire, free of all opposition, which you could rule as you saw fit. It was her dying wish for me to pass my title to you. Do not cause me to forsake that hope." He paused a moment before adding, "And this mission has nothing to do with war or opposition. The mirror said something of great importance is in that village, and that you are the only one I can send if I wish to find it. " Dendala nearly vomited from the reek of falsity wafting from Algarsyf’s words. 

"How can I know that this is true, Father? Lately, you have not been yourself. Let the mirror be the judge. Let me see what it foretells.” 

"You dare to question my integrity as well? It is just as...” 

"Just as what?" 

“It is not important! As emperor of this realm and as your father, I command you. Now go!" His voice was hard and cold. 

"Very well. I shall do as you wish." A smile began to inch its way onto Algarsyf's face, and Dendala felt the need to stifle it. "But, before I go, know this, Father. I want neither your throne nor your treasures. My desire is for something far greater. I follow this order in the hope that I might find it, and that your eyes may be opened to it as well." Then, Dendala turned for one last look and a small bow before leaving the room, and his emperor, behind him. 

*** 

He was jolted out of his reminiscing when a gatekeeper suddenly popped out from behind the wooden fence that surrounded the town. 

"Hello, traveler," he said with a toothless grin. "We don't get many passing through here. May I ask what business you might have?" 

Dendala smiled softly, trying not to make too much of an impression. "I am here for a short rest and to have a bite, and perhaps to sample some ale as well. My travels brought me here, nothing more." 

"Very well. You may pass. There are two inns in this little eyesore, my lord. I recommend The Green Troll. Good ale and a fine meal. Tell the innkeeper I sent you. Maerin's his name. Mine’s Owain. Oh, good day and fair travels to you, kind sir." With another quick smile and a nod of appreciation, Dendala was on his way. 

Dendala scoffed. The green troll on the sign before him made it plainly obvious he had found the inn. It wasn't much to look at from the outside, but as he entered, Dendala immediately noticed the cheerful atmosphere that permeated the place. Not so surprising to him, there were a half dozen men in the tavern, all sampling Maerin's ale. “Perhaps sampling all of it,” he chuckled to himself. 

As he approached the innkeeper, he noticed right away the man's immense girth. It almost made him laugh. His uncle Cambalo had always said: ''Never trust a frail innkeeper, my boy. It may sound absurd, but by my father's name, it's true!" 

Maerin greeted him with a heavy handshake and a silly grin. 

"The gatekeeper, Owain, told me you run a fine establishment here. I could use a room, a meal, and some nice cold ale. If you've got a bath, I could use one of those, too," said Dendala, trying to hide his accent. 

As if reading his mind, the innkeeper said, "I can't say I've heard anyone speak quite like that before, though it does sound familiar for some reason. Where you from, traveler. The west?" 

Sweat began to bead on Dendala's forehead. "I'm not really from anywhere. Not anymore, at least. I've been wandering all of Tartary since I was of an early age. My parents were killed during one of the royals' wars and, until five or six years ago, I traveled with my uncle. He was killed by one of the emperor’s soldiers." 

Dendala worried that he had layered his charms and lies too thickly. But, he reasoned, Maerin would have a lot to think through before he could spread the word to someone else. And, with hope, it would take his mind away from accents and the like. 

"I see. We've gotten a few here like you before. It is said that Algarsyf was always a fair and just man, and we all believed it true. In past years, though, the rumors coming from Tsarev have been a little dark." He spoke more quietly with every word until Dendala had to lean in to hear him. "I can tell you this, though, boy. If you hold a grudge against the emperor, you had best be on your way. Many here would lose their head for the empire and split a head to protect it.” 

Dendala shook his head. "No, my friend. I hold no grudge. I have qualms with no one, so be at ease. I simply wish to stay the night, and then I'll be on my way. Fair enough?" 

"Fair enough." Maerin nodded. "Follow me, young man. I'll show you to my finest room." Plopping a sweaty hand on Dendala's shoulder, the innkeeper led him down the hall. 

                                                                               *** 

Several hours later, after a meal, a bath, and a good drink or two, Dendala returned to his room. Sitting in the beautifully carved rocking chair that was, according to Maerin, one of a kind, he began to toy with the ring tied around his neck. His aunt, Canace, had given him two gifts just before her death, telling him earnestly to keep them secret. He had, and his secrecy had served him well. The ring had been a helpful tool on countless occasions. 

Canace's other present was a young falcon. At first, he had thought this strange, as falconry was never one of his talents. That was only until he learned the power of the ring. Whosoever put it on their finger instantly knew the healing powers of plants and herbs the world over and could speak to all the creatures of the earth. Canace claimed the falcon was the great-grandchild of a couple she had helped reconcile after teaching the male falcon a lesson in fidelity. 

Inspired by her story, Dendala had named the bird Arden. 

The two had been nearly the same age when brought together, for birds age more quickly than do men. Their friendship had grown strong, despite them being animal and human. It remained so. The bird was probably somewhere near; he never strayed far from Dendala's side, no matter the circumstance. He was possibly the only creature under heaven, beast and man alike, that Dendala thought of as trustworthy. 

More important than all of that, the ring was the one thing his father did not know about—his one, small advantage. He began to wonder if perhaps Canace had seen the seeds of corruption the mirror was planting in his father's heart. Now that he pondered it more carefully, he realized that she had often hinted thus. It didn't matter, though. He had to find whatever it was the mirror wished him to find before his father was completely consumed by his greed for power. 

A sudden crash and his door being knocked completely off its hinges startled him beyond belief. Before he could reach to unsheathe the dagger hanging at his waist, he found himself facing two spearheads. The men wielding them were trained soldiers, something rarely seen on the southern border. It took Dendala a moment to recognize the insignia pinned to their right breasts. A pendant made of gold and molded in the shape of a hand—the symbol of the Questioners. Theirs was an organization rarely spoken of even within the palace walls. They were said to be spies and assassins working directly under the emperor that had been doing so since before Cambiuskan's reign. Few believed they existed, and fewer still desired to know differently. If the Questioners did exist—and from where Dendala sat there was little doubt—then he most certainly had reason for fear. 

There were three men standing before him. The two with spears seemed to be taking orders from the one behind them. The leader, who was distinguishable by the slightly darker color of his uniform, stepped forward. 

The captain wore a smug grin. "Dendala Kertima?" 

Dendala nodded. "By decree of Algarsyf Kertima, Emperor of Tsarev, Divine Ruler of All Tartary, you are hereby sentenced to death." 

The prince’s fear and dread exploded into rage as the Questioner uttered the decree, and he bellowed, "You truly expected that I would believe that? Are you some kind of finely dressed brigand?" His voice was hoarse and he shook with anger. "I am the crown prince. I am heir to the throne. You have no authority here." 

The man reached inside his uniform and revealed a piece of folded parchment. 

"This little document and this here," he pointed to a wax seal and a signature that were unmistakably his father's, "are enough authority for me, my lord." His men snickered and he turned to face one of them. "Tie him up and gag him. No one here will question the doings of imperial soldiers." 

Still caught in disbelief, Dendala could not will his body or mind to action. Only when one of the men grabbed his wrists to tie them did he realize what was happening. He knew he had to fight. If he did not, then he would most certainly die. 

Opportunity! The man lowered his guard for only a moment as he began to wrap the rope around Dendala’s arms. 

Seizing the advantage, Dendala grabbed hold of the man and put a dagger to his throat. The soldier with the spear lunged forward, aiming for Dendala's head. Quickly, the young lord shoved his hostage into the other attacker and rolled to the floor. Picking up his would-be killer’s spear, he slew them both with one rage-fueled thrust. 

In the confusion, the commander had unsheathed his sword. Quickly and elegantly, he moved forward to strike. Drawing another dagger from his belt, Dendala quickly threw it. The knife found its mark, and the Questioner was dead before he hit the ground. Taking no time for thought, Dendala then gathered all his possessions, tied them in a bundle, and rushed out of the room. 

As Maerin was nowhere in sight, the prince decided to lay aside a few coins where he was sure they would be found by the innkeeper only. He then left hastily. Calling for Aramis as he plodded through the mud, Dendala rushed to the town gate. Not stopping to speak to anyone, he dashed through the rotting frame and towards the spot where he had left the brass horse. Immediately, he could see Aramis. The moonlight cast a faint light across the brass mane and back of the synthetic beast, creating a surreal sheen that seemed to mock nature. Throwing his leg across the stallion, Dendala hurriedly manipulated the pin in Aramis' ear. With a blast, the two of them were flying towards Tsarev. 

*** 

As he rushed through the royal court and palisades, Dendala was met by Arden. Perching atop the young man's shoulder, the falcon began to speak. "You had me worried, my friend. Rumor had it that you had been killed while pursuing a band of thieves in the far south. Your father has already begun preparing for your funeral." 

Dendala stopped dead. "So, it's true. My father truly has forsaken me," he whispered to himself. 

"What was that? What did you just say?" asked the falcon. 

Dendala was buried in thought. "Nothing. It is of no importance." I only left the palace two nights before. How could rumor spread unless he counted on me being dead? Fool! There is no time. I must speak with him. "Arden, I must speak with my father. Do you know where he is?" 

Arden spoke softly. "Yes, he is in his chamber, as is custom.” 

"Thank you, Arden. I must hurry. I finally know what must be done." Then, he rushed on towards his father's bedchamber, intending to end an era of tyranny. 

When he passed through the large doors, he found his father staring intently into the magic mirror. The shock or disgust that should have crossed his face when he saw Dendala was not there. Instead, there was a serene look of complete contentment. The mirror was giving Algarsyf that which he desired—a taste of the fruits of power. Dendala knew, however, that the shock would come when Algarsyf found the object of his lust whisked away—when he found the mirror destroyed. 

"Father, give me the mirror!" Dendala demanded. "I will no longer allow it to corrupt you." 

Algarsyf noticed him now. He blinked, appearing drowsy, as if awakened from a long sleep. "So, you have returned. My forsaken prodigal son. The mirror foretold that I would be free of all opposition if I sent you there. I do not know why prophecy failed me, but I assure you, I will not fail myself. Your rebellious heart must be stifled, and you destroyed. Just as your aunt and uncle were... just as your mother was." He clapped his hands and two royal guards appeared. "Kill him." 

The men approached simultaneously. They moved with a sleek and deadly grace. As Dendala cautiously engaged them, he whispered to Arden, "Get the mirror, my friend. It must be destroyed. I can handle these two." 

The falcon swooped around the room, momentarily drawing attention from the two soldiers and Algarsyf. Sensing providence, Dendala rushed at one of his enemies and backhanded him. Then, before the man could regain his balance, Dendala knocked him to the ground and slit his throat with a dagger he produced from his boot. As the other soldier moved languidly toward him, he took the time to unsheathe a fourth and final dagger from a strap around his arm. Not considering that the other man was unarmed, Dendala lunged at him with a fierce onslaught. The guard dodged all but one blow and then unleashed an attack of his own. 

While Dendala’s fight continued, Arden was at work removing the mirror from Algarsyf’s grasp. After a series of swoops and bloodying attacks, the raptor was able to grab the mirror out of the emperor's hand. Flying towards Dendala, he made sure to brush the battling soldier as he passed. The distraction proved to be fatal for the enemy, as the young prince quickly slid beneath his defenses and buried both daggers in his heart. The corpse fell to the floor, staining the bedchamber’s white carpet crimson. 

Catching the mirror from the bird's talons, Dendala moved to the balcony. 

Algarsyf rushed up behind him screaming. 

Quickening his pace, Dendala reached the balcony a few steps ahead of his father. 

Algarsyf grabbed his son from behind, clawing for the mirror, fighting savagely. 

Freeing himself from the old man's grasp, Dendala tossed the mirror over the side. 

Without warning, Algarsyf leapt over the ledge after the mirror and fell to his death, leaving Dendala powerless to save him. It had happened so suddenly that he never even called out. 

Shoulders slumped, still in disbelief at how utterly the mirror had consumed his father—destroyed his very being—he began to weep bitterly and with great sorrow. 

Arden approached him from behind and perched on the rail beside him. "I am sorry about your father, Dendala, I truly am. Still, my friend, you should know this. It was not the mirror that corrupted him." 

"If it did not, then what did? It was a treacherous thing that needed destroying. Its evil surely caused my father's death," he sobbed. 

"No! That is not true, my friend. The mirror simply held power. It was neither a wicked nor righteous being. But its enormous power brought out the very worst corruption that your father's heart held," explained the falcon. "It cannot create evil. It can only magnify its potency." 

"What does any of that mean then? Are you telling me that my father was always this way? How dare you!" he screamed. "Leave me be! Just leave me be, Arden!" 

Without a word, the falcon swooped off into the distance, leaving Dendala alone on the balcony. 

*** 

One week later, his nation still in the throes of mourning and himself a newly ascended emperor, Dendala found himself sitting alone in his bedchamber. As he scanned the room, a glint of silver and a sparkle caught his eye. Moving nearer to it, he found himself facing the mirror. "But it was destroyed." 

"It cannot be destroyed with simple force. It is of magic more powerful than has been seen in thousands of years," said a voice. From seemingly nowhere, Arden appeared and landed beside his friend. "Look into it. I believe it will help you." 

Turning his eyes away, Dendala shook his head. "I cannot. It is pure evil. I cannot look into this cursed thing. Take it away, Arden." 

"You are afraid, my friend. Do not be. I told you, what evil you saw in your father was already there. The mirror simply brought it to the surface. And at your father's will, I might add. You must be strong, Dendala. The mirror can show you many things, but you must always approach it carefully. Your father's death was unfortunate. But whether you will admit it or not, it was his fault, not the mirror's." 

"Even if that is true, and the mirror is not evil, what good will it do to look into it? It can only foretell the future. My father is dead." 

"Wrong, my friend. It also carries with it the power to show the past. And to reveal the heart of any friend or foe, living or deceased.” 

Dendala considered the words in silence, then grunted. "Very well. I will have you for dinner if this is a trick." With great reluctance, he turned his gaze to the mirror. His father's image appeared before him. 

"F... father?" 

"Dendala, my son. I am sorry. I let the mirror become my sole purpose in life. I let it control my every action. Forgive me,'' said Algarsyf’s image. 

"Father, I do forgive you. It is the mirror that I despise." 

"My son, it is not the mirror that is evil. I was at fault. It was I who misused its power. I am sorry for all I cannot tell you now. My heart is filled with regret." He bowed his head in shame, never raising his eyes to meet his son’s. "It seems my time is limited, Dendala. Farewell, my son." 

"Farewell, Father. May death bring you peace." 

The image slowly faded, and as it did, a star crossed the heavens.