The Spellcaster

I

In the forest, the sun dipped below the horizon, setting the trees in front of him into deep, black silhouettes. His horse's hooves beat against the rocky terrain below, and it held its head up high, as if it were proud to have the heir to the throne of Necia saddled upon its back. The sky had begun to turn a dark navy blue, and the first few stars twinkled high above the Prince's head, almost as if they were glitter spread on a darkened canvas. In the distance, the Prince could hear the sound of dogs barking, and their paws thudding against the ground among the forest surrounding him. He could also hear his hounds master shouting for the dogs to catch a rabbit or another small animal, and somehow his voice was louder than the racket of noise the hounds were making with their barking mouths and pounding paws.

Though the evening had grown dark and the light was sparse, the prince could still make out the distinct shape of his Hounds Master and his horse, which was trotting up the path towards him, with the Hounds Master on top of the horse. The silhouette grew bigger as it neared ever closer, and the corners of the Prince's mouth turned upwards as he approached. He was expecting something good from his hounds master about the hunt today; after all, he'd been looking forward to his next fresh feast.

"Did the hounds have any luck catching any deer today, Jarlen?" asked the Prince, as he held his horse's reigns tight so that it didn't move. His voice had a thick, posh accent, unlike the majority of the people within what would one day be his kingdom. His words were pronounced and sharp, but still had a cooling edge to them.

The hounds master replied by shaking his head. "I'm afraid not, Your Highness," he said meekly, his posture becoming somewhat limp and submissive. He held up a few dead rabbits, tied together at the feet. One had a distinctive bite mark on its leg from the hounds, and dried blood stained some of the fur a surrounding it a dark crimson. "The hounds only caught a couple of rabbits. They seem quite tired tonight. Perhaps we should let them rest for the day tomorrow?"

"Yes, perhaps we should." The Prince agreed. He looked above the hounds master towards the sky, and thought that it seemed to be getting too dark for them to be out hunting. His mother would expect him home soon for the night, and he thought that he should probably return before she panicked and sent the entire kingdom searching for her son. "Perhaps we should also go back to the palace?"

The Hounds Master nodded to show that he agreed, and then whistled two high pitched notes. Not even a moment later, a large pack of German Shepherd dogs hurried around the corner in a stampede of fur and barking. The prince smiled at the dogs. He'd always been fond of animals, and had been overjoyed when his father presented him on one of his birthdays with his own horse - Darkbrand. At first, Darkbrand had just been a possession - nothing better than the wooden toy soldiers he kept in his bedchamber. But as time went on, he became more and more associated with his horse, and since the bond struck with the Prince and Darkbrand, the horse would only answer to its master. Not even the stable buck dared to touch Darkbrand, and so only had minimal contact with the animal: feeding, cleaning out the stable and cleaning the dirt from its horse shoes.

With a flick of the reigns, the Prince ordered Darkbrand to move onwards. The horse flicked out a muddied hoof, and then began to walk along the rocky dirt path, with Jarlen and his horse, Fleethoof, following along beside. The hounds surrounded the two horses, still barking, but they moved out of the way as they headed back towards the palace. The Prince loved the dogs, and the hunting trips he went on with the hounds master, too. They'd already been out for hours in the Old Wood Forest, and he'd hoped that they would catch a deer or two for the palace's next feast; venison was one of his favourite foods.

"The Queen will be expecting you back soon, won't she, Your Highness?" Jarlen asked the prince in an attempt to make conversation. His voice wasn't nearly as posh as the prince's, and his words weren't as well pronounced either. However, working in the castle and around the royal family, he had developed an idiolect that was similar to the prince's in certain ways, but even then he still had a tang of his mother's common, villager's accent.