The Spellcaster

III

"Of course, Your Highness," He stepped back out of the doorway, and then looked back at the Prince. "Just meet me out in the courtyard as soon as you are ready, okay?"

"Yes, fine, whatever." He motioned for Jarlen to step out of the room again, and he did. Soran could hear his clumping footsteps on the floorboards as he ran back down the corridor towards the courtyard.

Soran got dressed into his usual attire - a simple pair of black trousers, a white shirt and a blue-grey waistcoat. He threw open his door, and ran his hands through his hair in an attempt to make it look presentable. It didn't. He paced hurriedly through the palace, and took a deep breath in before opening the doors to the courtyard. There, he was met by Jarlen, stood next to a sobbing Marazan, surrounded by gardens of wilted, dead plants. Where they once bloomed, the plants now lay heaped on top of each other. The gardens were previously made entirely from vivid colours that one could see from miles away (perhaps even as far as Silvermar, the next village over), but instead now, they were purely made of wilted colours - decaying greens, browns and yellows.

"What in the name of--" he paused, watching his friend comforting the maid, who was bawling hysterically into Jarlen's shoulder, waterfalls falling from her eyes, forming rivers off of her skin. He jogged over, pausing in front of them, and his face twisted with confusion. "What happened, Marazan?"

She moved her face out of Jarlen's shoulder, where a huge wet patch of salty tears grew. Her lips and hands trembled, and her eyes were wide open, although they were welling up with tears. "I-It's Lular... I-- She--" Her voice was quiet and shook a lot - it was evident that she struggled to even say a full sentence. Gulping, she tried to speak again. "Lular-- they think she's been using magic. I think she's-- I'm so scared that she's-- being sentenced to... I-I daren't say it."

She didn't have a chance to finish her sentence before Jarlen finished it for her: "Lular's being sentenced to death."

The Prince stared wide-eyed, completely frozen in awe. He didn't really know what to say - he'd never had to comfort a crying woman before, especially on such a matter as her friend's possible death sentence. His eyes flew wide open and his palms became moist with sweat. As it always had in tricky situations, his mind whirlpooled with thoughts, and he wasn't sure of what to do or say to comfort the pair. One thought stuck in his mind, however, and resurfaced many times. He pulled off his waistcoat and threw it towards Jarlen, who caught it as if it were a natural reflex.

Prince Soran jogged quickly over to the guards that were restraining Lular, who had given up all struggle. She hung her head low, her blonde hair laying lifelessly over her pale skin. Tears began to drip off of her face and then onto the floor, creating a trail of tiny puddles as they carried her away.

"What on-- In the name of Amyths, stop there!" Soran shouted, and one of the guards turned his head over his shoulder. He bit his lip, mentally cursing himself. To his dismay, it was Orion, the captain of the guard.

"Prince Soran," Orion smiled, and then clapped for another guard to restrain Lular by the arm in his place whilst he talked to the Crown Prince. He took off his obsidian helmet to reveal his close-cropped ebony hair and grey eyes."To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"What evidence do you have that this woman - Lular - is actually using magic?" Soran inquired, looking around the courtyard.

"I have no idea, Your Highness," he sneered, throwing his arms out to the sides in a sarcastic gesture. "Look around you. The moment the witch becomes upset or hurt, the plants wilt!"

"You call that sufficient evidence to sentence a woman to death?" the prince scoffed, crossing his arms across his stomach. How dare he speak to his future king like he was some half-brained, ill-headed idiot?