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The Legend of Lascar

Written By: Steven Sterup Jr.

Copyright 2017 Steven Sterup Jr.


Legal Disclaimer - This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Special thanks to all the people that helped with this book

My son Nicholas for editing

My grandson Kade for posing as young Lascar.

My sister-in-law Cindy A. for the cover art.

My wife Tammy for her help with pretty much every step of making this book.



Table of Contents

Introduction from Dhrel

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21



Introduction from Dhrel

Written by Dhrel Tyrillias

323 ALD

Lascar Tyrillias, there are very few names in our history that can evoke such emotions as his. Whether it be fear, anger or disbelief there is no name that is more widely recognized. He is the basis of several religions, countless books and even how we mark the passing of years. ALD, for those who don’t already know, means After Lascar’s Defeat. Yet, despite all this, very little is truly known about his life before becoming the evil king of Lascaria nor why he killed countless thousands during his reign. These are the reasons why I write this story.

Although everyone can agree that he was evil, even the religions based upon him, the reason he was so evil is highly debated. Many think he was a victim of circumstance, being the son of an evil king, they believe he had no other choice. Others believe that his evil ways were forced upon him. Still others believe he was born evil. I can tell you now that I believe none of these to be the case.

My father, Lastian, was raised by Lascar. He had a similar, if not more horrendous, upbringing. The same evil was forced down his throat since childhood but unlike his father, Lastian chose the path of good. As many of you know, my father was long believed to have helped Lascar terrorize our country. However, my father was vindicated after proof was found that he thwarted his father’s efforts at every turn and kept many innocents from Lascar’s wrath. People came forward with stories from all over the country after they realized that Lascar had been defeated and praised my father for saving them and their families. Lastian chose to be good.

A man or woman, is given choices throughout their life and some of these choices are between right and wrong, good or evil. The choice of doing the evil thing is always cleverly disguised in self-satisfaction and often the easier choice. The good choice is most times more difficult or you will need to use more effort to accomplish this option.

You come on a farmer who is beating his cow to get it back home. This frustrates you that a man would beat a defenseless creature so you confront him. After chastising him you have a choice, the easy choice would be to beat him, as he did the animal, or kill him and take the cow. Obviously you know how to treat the cow better than he. This man doesn’t deserve it. The good choice would require you to explain to the man why it was bad and then also possibly require you to check on the man in the future and council him more. This is obviously an oversimplified example but hopefully you see my point. Yes, I realize there are more options you could choose in varying degrees of right or wrong. My point is that I believe Lascar had many choices to be good or evil and he invariably chose evil at every turn. Lascar wasn’t born evil nor was he forced to be evil, he liked being evil.

I can’t take full credit for this story because I stand on the shoulders of great men and women to bring this to you. I wrote it based on the hard work and sacrifices of others. Kriista Tyrillias, my sister, deserves credit for helping me find Lascar’s journal of his early life before he became king and for her tireless efforts tracking down corroborating stories. Stelan Goller, my great grandfather, worked diligently with my father to separate the fact from the fiction of countless books written about Lascar. Draylen Goller, Stelan’s grandson, pieced together stories written in ancient Xeltheen, clarifying Lascar’s early years. Gromthule, the man who was present for many of Lascar’s early years helped me put finer detail on the years Lascar spent at the Tyrillian Academy. Finally and most importantly, the man who made this his life’s work, my father, Lastian Tyrillias. Without my father, this book and everyone else’s work would not have been possible. These people provided me with all the information that I might finally present the true story of the events of Lascar’s life before he was king.

I leave it to you, the reader, to make the final decision. Was Lascar born evil, was he forced to be evil, or did he choose evil?

For those of you who don’t believe Lascar was real and probably think I’m using a clever pen name to capitalize on the fame associated with it. I truly hope you get to keep believing that this is all fiction until the day you die. Because if my grandfather ever comes back, your shattered belief system will be the least of our worries.



Chapter 1

Lascar Tyrillias woke when he heard a strange sound. The eight year old boy sat up in his bed trying to figure out where the woman’s voice was coming from and what she was saying. Lascar brushed his pure white hair out of his eyes. His father, Lucian, the king of Tyrillia would scold him for letting his hair cover his eyes. Lucian was a stern king and father. He was also prideful. He would never allow his son to look like a commoner with unkempt hair.

Lascar heard the voice again, this time a little louder. He thought it might be coming from outside his room. The young prince slid out from under his covers and onto the plush carpet floor. Slowly he crept closer to the door but the woman was silent now. He pressed his ear to the door but all he could hear was his pounding heartbeat. Young Lascar was not afraid of the castle guards, nor his nanny. Lascar wasn’t afraid of the dark nor the imaginary monsters that most boys fear. There was only one thing that could scare the young prince, his father.

Two years ago, at the age of six, Lascar had easily comprehended and passed all the tests his tutors gave him. According to every teacher, the boy was ready for scholarly studies, he was a certifiable genius. Being too young to enroll in any of the noble colleges, the young prince was left with little to do, so his father ordered instructors to teach him in the art of war. This, like most things, also came easy to the child and soon his small body, much smaller than other boys his age, was easily defeating seasoned veterans. There was no end to his father’s pride. King Lucian could often be found bragging about his genius, warrior son and Lascar loved every minute of it.

One day Lascar had grown so prideful that he misspoke in his father’s presence. Calling the king mean for forcing him to finish his supper, which by itself would have been looked at as childhood indignance. This night, however, an important noble had been over for dinner so Lucian was embarrassed. He took his son to the kitchen after excusing himself from the table. Lascar was told that he would never make that mistake again. Lascar, of course was full of himself and tried to fight his father as he had the seasoned warriors who trained him. This was a mistake. Lucian was not like any man Lascar had ever faced before. Lascar’s strength and speed were inherited from his father so it was no surprise that several hundred years of experience prevailed easily over a six year old boy. The punishment would never be forgotten by the young prince. Lascar had the ability to heal any wound in minutes and this left a cruel king with many options for punishing his disobedient son. Lascar didn’t return to the table that night and rumors flourished, what had the king done to his son?

Lascar was ripped from his thoughts as the woman’s voice seemed to fill the room. It was much louder this time and now he could make out what she was saying.

“Lascar, find me in the dungeon,” the woman’s voice commanded.

It was then that Lascar realized, the voice wasn’t coming from the hall, it was in his head. It was coming from his mother, Faamyn, who was locked in the castle dungeon. Lascar knew where she was but had never seen her. It was forbidden for anyone but Lucian to go into the dungeon.

Lascar could feel the pull from his mother, he would not be able to resist it and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. In the last year he had often sat at the entrance of the dungeon trying to work up the courage to open the door. In the end, the thought of his father’s punishment for doing so, a much more serious crime than talking back, kept the young prince in check.

Lascar cautiously opened the door to his room and peered out into the hallway. When he was sure there was no one awake he snuck, barefoot, out into the hall. Lascar had another peculiar ability, one which his father did not. The young prince was indifferent to cold and heat. To him cold and heat felt like the difference between leather and cotton. Neither was uncomfortable, just different. So Lascar made his way silently across the freezing cold, stone floor of the hallway. The young prince could see his breath this chilly, winter night but it was nothing more than an amusement to him.

Lascar snuck through the dark, silent castle until he was finally on the bottom floor. He stood at the dungeon entrance and looked at the door with fear. If his father found him it would be a hundred times worse than the night he embarrassed his father. Perhaps his father would kill him this time. Lascar had seen his father’s temper many times but until the night he publicly embarrassed his father, it had never been directed at him. The things Lucian did to those he considered beneath him were never spoken about but Lascar knew. Lascar had seen his father’s cruelty many times. His father tried to keep it from him but Lascar had gotten very good at sneaking around the castle. So good, in fact, that even his father was hard pressed to catch him.

Lascar pushed the door and found that it wasn’t locked. What reason would there be to lock it? No one would dare disobey an order from Lucian. Lascar had heard stories about what Lucian was like before he was born. Lucian had been a kind man, strict but fair. He treated everyone with respect and was rewarded with the respect of his people. Lucian was married to a beautiful woman that he loved dearly but this woman was unable to have children. Lucian and his wife hired a woman to have Lucian’s child and after Lascar’s birth his real mother stayed on to take care of him. She was to be his nanny. This worked out well until the day Lucian’s wife walked in on Faamyn talking about her plans for Lascar to take over Tyrillia and the world. Faamyn killed Lucian’s wife but underestimated Lucian. She was defeated and thrown into the dungeon. Lucian had a special cage built just to hold her after he found out that she was not only a mage but also immortal. After that day Lucian spent a great deal of time in the dungeon, torturing her.

Lascar crept down the cold, stone stairs without making a sound until he reached the bottom. The stench of blood and burned flesh filled the room. He covered his nose and walked over to the cage. A pale woman in rags, that barely covered her body, slumped in the corner. She didn’t have a bed nor blankets, only a bucket. The woman was shivering, unlike Lascar, she could feel the cold, it just couldn’t kill her, another of Lucian’s cruel tortures.

“Mother?” Lascar asked.

“My son,” the woman whimpered and wearily tried to make her way to him.

Lascar could see scars on her body and a fresh wound on her arm. It appeared to be cut to the bone and was scorched in several places. She cradled the arm and tried desperately to avoid using it. About half way across the cell she accidentally put weight on it and cried out in pain. Apparently, she didn’t have the young prince’s ability to heal and he pondered where he had gotten this ability. His father was also unable to heal with the speed he could. Perhaps a combination of his mother’s power mixed with his father’s had produced anomalies in him?

“Why did you call me?” the young prince asked with language and a tone that seemed much older than eight.

“My, you are a smart one. Do you always speak so grown up?” Faamyn asked.

“What do you mean, mother?” the young prince asked. He had spoken this way for years, he was no longer a little boy. He was eight years old and could out think scholars and generals with ease.

“I have little time,” Faamyn wheezed. Her wounds were severe. The constant torture and lack of food and water made it so her body could not heal. Although immortal, she lived in a constant state of pain due to Lucian’s torture. “You are special. I need you to understand how special you are. I’m going to tell your father how to kill me so he will get this over with. I can’t go on any more. I was just holding out long enough to explain things to you.” Faamyn cried out in pain as she accidentally shifted her weight onto her arm again.

“I’m listening,” Lascar said impatiently. He had no love for his mother. He was, however, curious about what she meant by special. He knew his mother was manipulative and had killed his father’s wife. This brought out the cruel king he now called father.

“You have a great power. You have abilities beyond imagining.” Faamyn winced as she waved her hurt arm and caused the table behind Lascar to tip over.

“How did you do that?” Lascar prodded.

“Magic!” Faamyn exclaimed, her excitement overshadowing her agony briefly.

“Can I do magic?” Lascar asked. The curiosity caused him to sound his age, if only for a second. Lascar silently chastised himself. People who act like children are treated like children but mostly he wanted his father to be proud of him again. This one desire was the driving force of almost every decision the eight year old boy made.

“Yes, my son, you will be the greatest mage that ever lived. People will cower before you. Even your father,” Faamyn explained.

“How do you know?” Lascar’s speech returned to the practiced tone that made him sound older.

“When I was pregnant with you I could feel it. You have more power than I’ve ever felt. I have known powerful mages. You eclipse them all. Give it a try.” Faamyn commanded.

“I do not know how,” Lascar argued.

“Concentrate on the table. Picture it moving. Then, when you are ready, push it with your mind,” Faamyn explained.

Lascar turned to face the table and did as Faamyn ordered but nothing happened.

“Try harder! Use your hands if you have to. Give your mind something to focus on.” Faamyn seemed desperate. She needed her son to understand this tonight.

Lascar tried again. This time after focusing he waved his hand and the table flew across the room then crashed into the wall. When Lascar turned to his mother his eyes were glowing the color of blood. He was excited. Not because he wanted his mother’s approval but because it gave him power. Power his father would surely appreciate.

For a moment Faamyn looked afraid. Her son was more powerful than even she realized. He was dangerous, very dangerous. In his first attempt he had destroyed a table. What could an older, more practiced Lascar accomplish?

“Good work,” the witch forced herself to say. She needed Lascar on her side. She had no intention of telling Lucian how to kill her. It was all a rouse to get Lascar to help her. “Now try that on these bars. See if you’re strong enough to bend them.”

Lascar looked uneasy. His father wouldn’t like it if he let her go. Then Lascar realized that his mother was using him. Most eight year olds would not have the mental capacity to think that far ahead but Lascar was not a normal child. In some respects he still acted childish but he tried desperately to rid himself of those things. He needed to be a grown up to earn his father’s respect. He didn’t want to be afraid of his father, he wanted the adulation and praise to return.

“I do not think so, mother,” Lascar replied.

“What?! Why not?!” Faamyn balked.

“You are trying to trick me into letting you go. Father would punish me if I did that. I am not stupid, mother.” Lascar’s eyes still lit up the room. His rising anger, caused by his mother’s deception, caused them to glow brighter. “Maybe I should get rid of you for father!”

“No, I apologize…” Faamyn begged, fearing for her life. Where Lucian had failed, her son might succeed. She had no idea how powerful her son really was and had no intention of putting his powers to the test. This little boy was so full of power that he might very well be able to kill her.

“What are you doing down here?!” King Lucian rushed down the steps yelling. “I told you that you were never allowed down here!”

King Lucian Tyrillias was a large man. He stood almost half a head taller than most and was very brawny. King Lucian kept his dirty blonde hair and beard cut very short. To him a clean cut hairstyle was synonymous with nobility. He rarely wore his crown but even at night he wore a well-tailored shirt and pants underneath his gold trimmed, royal robes. In Lucian’s mind there was never an occasion to ‘dress down’ like a commoner. Every occasion from horse riding to martial practice required a noble to look like a noble.

Lucian grabbed Lascar by the arm and forced him to the steps then noticed his son’s glowing eyes.

“You’re one of them!” the king shouted angrily. Lascar’s hopes of approval came crashing in on him.

“I could not help it, father. She pulled me down here, I could not stop,” the young prince protested. “She made me use magic.”

“I don’t believe you. No one can make you do anything you don’t want to, not even me.” If only Lucian had realized how wrong he was. Although Lascar had lied about Faamyn forcing him to use magic, the king could have convinced his son to do anything he wanted simply by asking.

“He will learn to hate you, Lucian,” Faamyn hissed from her cell. “He knows what he is now. He will be the death of you.”

Lucian slapped Lascar and the glow faded from his son’s eyes.

“You are never to use magic ever again. Do you understand me? I will not have a mage in this castle. If I even think you’ve used magic I will ship you off to the middle of nowhere and forget you exist,” Lucian said angrily.

“Yes, father, never again. I will not use magic. I promise.” Lascar didn’t cry. The slap had gotten his attention but even Lucian had to put considerable effort into hurting the boy.

“Go to your room. Your mother needs to learn that threatening me is a very bad idea,” Lucian growled as he pointed up the stairs.

“Yes, father,” Lascar replied as he started up the stairs. Once at the top of the stairs Lascar crouched down and listened.

“Going to try to kill me again?” Faamyn laughed. The laugh turned into a coughing fit before she was finished.

“No, I realize what must be done, now,” Lucian said absentmindedly while he thought to himself.

“Going to let me go then? It’s your only choice. I will make Lascar hate you if you don’t. You can’t keep me here. Let me go and I’ll never bother you again,” Faamyn negotiated.

“No, I have a better idea.” Lucian’s voice sounded devious. The king rubbed his chin and walked toward the stairs.

“Let me go! I’ll kill you some day if you don’t! Let me go!” Faamyn screamed with the last of her strength.

Lascar quickly headed back up to his room before his father reached the top of the steps. He hated his mother now. Before it had been indifference, now it was pure hatred. She tried to use him. Why did his father keep her around? She needed to be dealt with. She had messed up everything. He was just winning back his father’s trust then she tricked him into using magic. Why had he listened to her? Despite his self-loathing the magic had felt good, very good, but it was wrong. His father had said so. Suddenly Lascar felt very tired. As he got back into his bed he was overwhelmed by fatigue he had never experienced before. Using magic had made him weak.

In the morning Lascar felt like his normal self again. The fatigue of using magic had corrected itself while he slept. He snuck downstairs where his father was having a meeting. There were two people, a man and a woman that looked like druids. He had heard of druids but had never seen one before. These two fit the description perfectly. The man was huge, with red hair and a bushy red beard. He looked kind and Lascar loathed him immediately. The woman looked more worldly and calloused, Lascar thought she was quite pretty. She was much smaller than the man, with long, straight black hair and interesting brown eyes. Her eyes had flecks of gold in them that caught the light every time she shifted position. Their clothes seemed homemade, crafted from animal furs but despite this they smelled clean. Lascar expected them to smell like animals or perhaps like commoners, covered in filth. This was not quite what he was expecting and a pleasant surprise.

As Lascar listened, two more people came into the room. These two men looked ominous and sure of themselves, a sharp contrast to the druids who were bowing to his father and asking for forgiveness every time they misspoke.

The two men wore drab gray robes with a slit down the middle which revealed an under robe that was a slightly darker gray. Their jewelry intrigued Lascar and he was almost discovered as he tried to take a closer look. It looked like their jewelry was made of bone. This, coupled with their air of superiority led the young prince to believe they were necromancers.

Lascar thought it was strange for his father to call two druids and two necromancers for a meeting. His father hated mages yet he was meeting with, what appeared to be, the leaders of two of the most magical cultures in the world. What was his father up to? Perhaps the king was giving them an ultimatum? Give up magic or else! Lascar needed to get closer, he never missed the chance to hear his father tell people what to do. His father was so powerful. Someday Lascar would command this level of respect, no that wasn’t the right word, the word was fear. People would tremble at the mention of his name, just like they did with his father. His word would be law to everyone in Tyrillia. No, he would be better than his father, he would rule the world. His father would be proud of him again someday.

Lascar snuck closer, careful not to alert anyone to his presence. The large druid man looked around the room. It was almost like the druid could sense him. Lascar pushed himself farther under the table then he felt it. He had been so preoccupied with sneaking that he hadn’t realized the feeling in the room. He could feel the magic coming from the four people speaking with his father. The magic had a smell and a taste that was unique to the person it was coming from. The two necromancers had a dirty, rotten taste but not identical. One was stronger than the other and the magic from the strong one had a sour taste to it. This man had killed people. No, not just killed people, he had tortured people to death and liked it. Then Lascar realized that he wasn’t really smelling nor tasting the magic. His mind was just processing the feeling into something he could identify.

The two druids were completely different from the necromancers as well as completely different from each other. The pretty woman had a kindness to hers, a sweet taste almost like sugar and vanilla. However, the man was much more powerful than anyone in the room. His power eclipsed the others by so much that Lascar wondered if he was as strong as the king. The druid man’s power tasted like wood and rock, strong and sturdy. Then it happened again, the druid man glanced at the table Lascar had hidden under. Did he know Lascar was there? Despite this the druid man said nothing.

Lucian was instructing the four mages about how to handle Faamyn. They were apparently being instructed to take Faamyn to a location that was written on a sealed note. After handing it to the large druid man Lucian ordered them not to open it until they were far away from the city. That way they could figure out if anyone was following them before heading out to their final destination. The four mages all agreed to the terms and headed toward the dungeon to bind and transport Faamyn.

After the four mages left the castle the head of Lucian’s personal guard entered the room. He had been waiting for the mages to leave before receiving his instructions. He was told to head straight to the final tomb that would hold Faamyn and given his own set of directions on how to get there. He, and the guards with him, were instructed to let none of the four mages leave the tomb. All four were to be sealed in with Faamyn. This way not only could Lucian get rid of Faamyn, an obvious threat, but also rid the world of four of the most powerful mages.

Lascar giggled from under the table and quickly put his hands over his mouth. Only one of them had been truly powerful. The other three had been mere shadows of the large druid man. If these were the world’s most powerful mages he had nothing to fear. Even the druid man felt like nothing compared to when he had used his magic to throw the table. Now that had been real power! Lascar had felt just a taste of it but he understood that there was much more he could tap into if he really wanted to.

At the time Lascar had no interest in where they were taking his mother. He was glad that she was going to be out of his life. With her gone he could resume his attempts to win back his father’s affections. He would show his father he could follow instructions. He would never use magic again, even if the feeling was very appealing.

From that day forward all magic was illegal in Tyrillia. People were hunted down and killed for using magic or being involved with someone who had used it. Tyrillia invaded Norzen, the home of the draelic. The draelic that were not killed were enslaved and Norzen became a slave state dominated by Tyrillia. Families were destroyed, druids, necromancers and even lesser mages fled in search of hiding places. It is estimated that well over a thousand people were put to death that year alone. At that time in history there were maybe five thousand people on the continent now known as Lascaria. So this means Lucian was responsible for killing twenty percent of the population. By means of percentages, this was one of the largest exterminations of humanoid life to this very day.



Chapter 2

Over the next few years Lascar came to realize that there was something worse than his father punishing him. To Lascar the indifference of his father was far worse than yelling and screaming, even worse than the beating he had suffered. How he wished his father would pay enough attention to give him another beating. Even when Lascar publicly defied Lucian, the king would simply turn away, whisper to one of his servants, then look very disappointed as he ridiculed his son for being so immature. Often Lascar would storm off to his room, his eyes glowing red, only to chastise himself for his lack of control. Anger made his magic surface and he could not afford to let anyone see it. Eventually Lascar gave up trying to gain his father’s attention and took up reading. He was not allowed to use magic but he could read about it. Although books on magic were forbidden, the young prince had hidden away many books on the subject.

On Lascar’s sixteenth birthday his father called him to the throne room. Lascar thought he had finally suffered enough, proven his worth to his father. His father wanted to talk to him. Upon entering the throne room Lascar’s hopes were smashed. His father, without looking at him, gave a speech to the nobles who were in the room. It was about him, not to him.

“My son has reached the age where he must choose a wife. All you fine people here have strived diligently in your efforts to root out mages in your lands and I commend you. For that reason my son will travel to each of your homes and meet with your daughters. When he returns to the castle he will choose his wife and everyone will bear witness to the grandest wedding Tyrillia has seen since my own.” Lucian returned to his throne and started whispering to one of his servants. Lascar recognized the man as his father’s top aid. This man, although a servant, was responsible for everything that went on in the castle. There was no one that Lucian trusted more, at least not since Lascar disappointed him so many years ago.

Lascar flew into a rage. He was not going to pick a wife. He had no intention of settling down with some boring old hag and helping her pop out children so Lucian could have a more suitable heir. The young prince stormed up to the throne, he had finally had enough.

“How dare you tell me that I am to marry! IF I choose a wife it will be when I decide I want one and not before!” Lascar screamed at his father.

Lucian stood up calmly and laughed to the crowd of nobles in an effort to conceal his anger.

“If I say you are going to find a wife. You are going to find a wife.” Lucian said quietly then he started to whisper. “If you think you can disobey me you will find a new home in your mother’s old cell. Don’t think I don’t know about all the books you keep hidden in your room. You can’t die but there are many people I can get to torture you until you will wish you were dead.” Then Lucian smiled to the crowd and sat back down.

“Fine, I will go. I am not guaranteeing I will find a wife. If none of these inbred, simplistic little girls interests me I will have fulfilled my part of the bargain. Do we understand each other?” Lascar paused a minute then added before his father could reply. “Before you answer let me remind you that, yes, you are right I cannot die. So, some day, after all the torture, I will finally grow tired of you and you will never see it coming. You, can die.” Lascar whispered back.

Lucian looked uncomfortable and Lascar saw fear on his father’s face. For the first time in many years Lascar felt good again. He couldn’t have his father’s respect but he could make his father fear him and perhaps that was better.

“Fine,” Lucian forced himself to say. “As long as you go and meet every woman on the list you will have fulfilled our agreement and I will not bother you with it again.”

Lascar turned and walked away with a devious grin on his face. Finally, after all these years, he had bested his father. He didn’t intend to kill his father, he just wanted to win an argument for once. That was the day Lascar stopped trying to please his father. He was done playing the lost little boy, he really was a man now and he needed to start acting like one. If his father couldn’t love him he could fear him!

That night Lascar packed his things and in the morning he set off with four castle guards and his nanny, Shalenia. Lascar was annoyed that his nanny was required to accompany him, but even though he felt he was a man, in the eyes of the law he was not a man until the age of nineteen. A sixteen year old boy accompanied by four guards would never be let into the homes of prospective wives. He was required by law to have a chaperone, a woman, almost always this woman was the boy’s nanny.

Shalenia was not human like all the other servants. She was a race known as xeltheen and despite his best efforts, Lascar found her very attractive. At least until the day he accidentally caught her and his father having sex in her room. Lascar remembered the day fondly despite the horrible scene he had witnessed because it had proven to him that his father was a hypocrite.

Xeltheen were a race of beautiful humanoids. Even though people referred to them as ‘Lizard Men’ they only had a few similarities to reptiles. Their yellow eyes, with the reptilian, vertical slit and sharp fangs reminded Lascar more of snakes than lizards. They always had straight hair that seemed to grow facing backward on their head. Lascar could see how some people might think they looked reptilian but the prince had never met a lizard or snake quite as beautiful as a xeltheen woman. Xeltheen had slim faces and the women had beautiful facial markings that looked like makeup to Lascar. Shalenia’s facial markings were a pretty pink with blue tints which went nicely with her womanly figure and long blonde hair.

Although there were very few xeltheen in Tyrillia the prince had met several of Shalenia’s relatives and friends. The young prince had even begged his father to let him learn the xeltheen language but Lucian forbade it, claiming that the language was for savages. Lascar was to learn an ancient language that no one spoke any longer, Latin. This caused several arguments but this was long before Lascar had gotten the courage to defy his father.

Despite catching Shalenia and his father together, Lascar was fond of his nanny. The woman had raised him, paid more attention to him than his own father. In fact, he considered her family, almost. She was still a servant and he had no problems ordering her around when he disagreed with her. Sometimes she listened and sometimes she didn’t. There was always the threat of her telling his father looming in the air so Lascar tended to not push things too far.

The trip to meet his potential wives lasted months. Over the course of the trip Lascar was introduced to nearly twenty prospective wives. After it was all said and done he had found none that suited him. Most of them were subservient and accommodating or he simply had no interest in them. He found all of them to be simple minded and by the end he was satisfied that he would never find a woman smart enough to hold his attention. He had no interest in their beauty. All woman were beautiful in their own way, even the inbred noble girls. It was only their mind that could make them truly desirable.



Chapter 3

Lascar sat in the back of the carriage as he traveled back home. Their carriage was traveling along the border of Norzen. This route was taken by necessity, not by choice nor convenience. There was a battle between their last stop and the castle so they needed to go around on a nearly untraveled road. The war with Norzen had recently flared back up as a new queen had come to power and convinced the draelic that they could beat Tyrillia. The war was in its second year and both sides were nearly at a standstill. This new queen was a brilliant strategist and Lascar pondered her for a moment.

Now this was the type of woman he wanted. Someone who could outthink his father’s best generals. He daydreamed as the carriage sped over the bumpy road. What would a draelic woman with that much intelligence look like? Would she be muscular and commanding like many of the draelic woman he had seen? They were all quite attractive, much sexier than human women. Their toned, muscular bodies and beautiful horns had always interested Lascar.

The draelic often reminded Lascar of demons from some of his novels. The men were much larger than human men and quite daunting, not nearly as large as the druid man that had come to the castle but still quite formidable. The women, on the other hand, were not much larger than human women but very muscular. Most draelic had horns that came from their foreheads, wrapped around to the back of their heads and purple skin. They had fangs like that of a tiger. In the women these fangs and horns were much smaller. The women ruled Norzen while the men were resigned to raising the children, farming and fighting battles. Even the high ranking generals in the army were women since men were thought to be too barbaric to be trusted with complicated decisions.

He pictured the draelic queen with her beautiful horns and muscular frame. How he wished he could find a woman like that. Someone who was not afraid to speak her mind. It didn’t matter whether she was right or not, he just wanted someone with an opinion.

Lascar was pulled from his daydreaming when the carriage suddenly stopped.

“Why are we stopping?” Lascar demanded.

“Sorry, sir. The horses need some rest and we could use some food,” the smallest guard apologized. The guard motioned to a very small inn a short distance ahead of them. It looked modest, probably a nightly stop for the surrounding farmers, but it was clean and well kept.

Lascar had noticed during the trip that only one of the guards actually cared what he thought. The young guard was probably no more than a few years older than he was and this man was not aware that King Lucian had no love for his own son. Lascar didn’t mind this one. Guards were supposed to be subservient, unlike the women that wanted to marry him.

The other three guards grunted and begrudgingly carried out Lascar’s orders. They barely spoke to him and never asked his opinion. They had orders from the king about where they were to go and who they were to see and that was all they cared about. As long as the king was happy they could care less what Lascar thought.

“Fine,” Lascar conceded. “I could eat as well.”

“I’d like to see him pay for it,” one of the large guards whispered.

“Poor little rich kid, daddy’s favor has no value out here,” one of the other guards whispered back.

They were unaware that Lascar’s senses were more than twice as sharp as a normal man. He could hear them as if they were talking loudly.

“So which of you would like to pay for my supper?” Lascar asked as he stepped out of the carriage. “I’m sure father gave you money for the trip.”

“What would you like sir? I think we have one gold and twelve silver left,” the young guard eagerly answered.

“Whatever is fast. I just want to go home,” Lascar answered, then headed to the back of the inn to use the outhouse.

Shalenia slept in the back of the carriage and Lascar decided to let her stay asleep. She would only continue her nagging about the fact that he had liked none of the women he had met. It was her job to convince him that at least one of these women was good enough to marry. No doubt his father, unable to frighten Lascar, had threatened her instead. Lascar wasn’t worried though. It was doubtful that his father would hurt Shalenia. Being his consort left her with a good deal of leverage. Plus, if the king did kill her or imprison her he would then have to find a new consort. Lucian would be hard pressed to find someone half as beautiful as Shalenia.

“Keep it up and we’ll forget you here,” one of the larger guards grumbled when he walked by the younger guard.

The three large guards all stopped while the younger one went inside. Something had caught their eye. Out in the field, next to a tree, a petite, blue draelic girl was tying up her horse. While most draelic were purple, there was occasionally a blue draelic born. These blue draelic were almost exclusively women and they were smaller and less muscular than the purple ones. Many draelic women would give their daughters away if they were born blue because draelic society looked down on blue draelic. They were thought to be inferior in almost every way to purple draelic.

The blue draelic girl wore the brown leather outfit of a hunter and it fit her petite figure quite well. Her hair was straight, down to the middle of her back and a lighter shade of blue than her skin. Light enough that it almost looked white in the moonlight. Her eyes were steel gray, a sharp contrast from the brown of normal draelic. Draelic women were not known for their modesty and this one was no different. The slit in the front of her leather tunic went all the way down until it was stopped by a black leather belt. Her clothes were skin tight and left little to the imagination.

“I guess this trip won’t be a total loss,” the largest guard said as he nudged his friends.

The three guards took off across the field, straight at the draelic girl. When she noticed them coming she didn’t turn and run, she smiled.

“Hello, how are you this fine evening?” she asked them politely.

“Much better, now” the largest guard said as he grabbed her arm.

“What are you doing?” the woman protested.

“Having some fun,” the second guard answered and grabbed her other arm.

The two men then forced her onto the ground while the third prepared to get on top of her. Lascar returned from the outhouse and looked curiously at the three guards.

“What do you think you are doing?!” Lascar yelled as soon as he noticed the small, frail looking draelic they were attempting to rape.

“Go away, spoiled brat. Wouldn’t want daddy to find out that we skipped so many houses cause his whiny kid wanted to go home,” the largest guard replied.

Lascar’s rage fumed inside him and soon his eyes were glowing bright red. How dare these insignificant guards threaten to blackmail him with events that didn’t happen? He had visited every house on the list!

“Who do you think he will believe? Now go inside and eat your food!” the guard on top of the draelic girl shouted while trying to undo his belt.

Lascar’s fury continued to grow and he could barely contain himself as he walked closer to the guards. Lascar grabbed the man on top of the small woman and threw him like he was made of cloth. When the man collided with the wall of the inn a horrible sound, like a wet washcloth slapping skin echoed through the forest. The man’s head cracked open and he fell to the ground dead.

The two remaining guards jumped back and drew their swords. Lascar ignored them and gently held out his hand to the draelic girl. Quickly, she grabbed his hand and Lascar effortlessly helped her to her feet.

The girl’s eyes began to glow red like Lascar’s and she turned to one of the guards. She put her hand on his chest and the guard’s skin shriveled. Soon his desiccated body fell to the ground. The other guard thrust his sword and it went through Lascar’s left side. This only made Lascar angry. He grabbed the guard by the throat and snapped his neck before tossing his dead body into the nearby bushes.

“How did you do that?” Lascar asked the woman. Lascar easily pulled the sword from his side and seemed not to notice the wound which was already beginning to heal.

“You are very powerful!” the draelic girl exclaimed seductively. The look on her face was a combination of lust and respect.

Lascar’s face turned red. He was not one to blush but this girl was different from all the others he had met. Something about her was very alluring to him. From the way she walked to the way she spoke, Lascar was attracted to her in a way he couldn’t quite put into words.

“Why have I never met you before?” The draelic girl asked as she ran her fingers through his hair and continued her flirting. “I’m sure I would remember someone like you.”

“What have you done?!” the young guard screamed and dropped the plate of food he was carrying.

“He will tell someone you are a mage. Kill him!” the draelic woman hissed.

Lascar started to walk toward the guard but the draelic girl put her hand on his chest to stop him.

“With your mind,” the girl whispered in his ear. “You are so powerful, why do you not use it?”

Lascar concentrated on the young guard, pictured him writhing in agony and when he lifted his hand, his thoughts became reality. The young man fell to the ground, screaming in pain.

“Much better. Now finish it,” the draelic girl whispered seductively in his ear.

Lascar squeezed his hand and the young man’s body imploded. Then Lascar turned to the woman and looked longingly into her eyes.

“My name…my name is Lascar,” he stuttered.

“You’re very powerful, Lascar,” the girl smiled. A long black claw came out of her index finger and she drug it across his face. The scratch healed instantly and her smile turned even more flirtatious. “Very powerful, indeed!”

“What is your name?” Lascar asked meekly.

“You’re a little young, maybe when you’re older,” the draelic girl said then returned to her horse, untied it and rode off. Before she was out of earshot she yelled back. “Don’t worry, I’ll find you! I’ll definitely find you!”

Lascar just stood there dumbfounded. Now this was the woman he wanted! This woman, was everything he wanted! After a few moments, when the draelic woman was no longer visible, the young prince walked back to the carriage. Shalenia was still sleeping inside, all the fighting hadn’t woken her. The trip had been long and she was known to be a heavy sleeper. Despite her young appearance, Shalenia was ninety two years old. Xeltheen didn’t age like human, at least not physically, and often looked like they were in their twenties until their death. Some xeltheen had even been credited with living to as much as two hundred years old.

Lascar quickly got in front and grabbed the reins. He sped off towards home. Soon Shalenia woke and started asking about the guards. Lascar spun a tale about bandits and how they killed the guards but he had been able to sneak the carriage away. His nanny thanked him but the young prince got the strangest sensation, like she didn’t quite believe his story. He let it go but something nagged at him. What if she confided in his father? What if she had been awake and only pretending to be sleeping? He needed to find out what that hesitation in her voice really meant. His father could never find out what really happened that night.

Soon Lascar started to feel the fatigue again. After the adrenaline and excitement of his encounter wore off he nearly passed out driving the carriage. Shalenia took over the reins and continued to dote on her savior. As Lascar fell unconscious he felt at ease. Shalenia seemed to believe his story, perhaps the hesitation in her voice had been something else. He didn’t like the idea of having to kill her but if she told his father Lascar would kill her without question.



Chapter 4

Lascar woke in his own bed and could tell that it was early in the morning. They had arrived back home well after midnight and managed to avoid waking his father. However, now his father would be unavoidable. Someone, possibly Shalenia, would inform his father that bandits had killed the guards. Then it would only be a matter of time before he would question Lascar about the women. How was he going to tell his father that the only woman that interested him was draelic? His father would balk at the idea of Lascar marrying a commoner, what would he do for a draelic? However, Lascar didn’t have to suffer long. Within a few minutes of him waking a servant knocked on the door and informed him that the king was ready to hear about the trip.

Lascar begrudgingly put on suitable clothes for a meeting with the king and made his way downstairs. At least the wait was over. He would now know if Shalenia had told his father his version of the story or something else. Lascar couldn’t even bring himself to be afraid. His father was going to be angry with him, his father was always angry about something. Then Lascar remembered the fear on his father’s face before he left and a smile replaced his somber expression. His father was afraid of him now.

Lascar pushed open the doors to the throne room with new confidence and found it was empty except for his father.

“No audience today?” Lascar quipped.

“No, I’m sure you will disappoint me again,” Lucian scowled.

“Well, I aim to please…or displease as the case may be.” Lascar walked across the floor with his hands behind his back. He wanted to show his father that he wasn’t afraid.

“So, I hear you ran into some bandits and you ran away like a coward. I also hear that you left four of my best guards to die?” Lucian prodded.

“Of course you would spin it that way. No mention of how I saved Shalenia. No, you cannot admit that I did something right. And if those were your best guards, I would not trust your security to the rest.” Lascar reached the throne and paced in front of it with his hands behind his back. He was angry now and needed to control his temper.

“If it was me…” Lucian started.

“Yes, if it was you. You would have killed the bandits and saved the girl. Possibly saved the guards. Am I right?” Lascar paced slower, anger was getting the better of him.

“Yes,” Lucian replied.

“I guess I am not the man you are. Could not even find a suitable wife. Well I found a woman but I know you will not like her.” Lascar was done hiding. He was done holding back. If his father was going to treat him this way then why not let it all out. Why had he been so afraid all these years? What was his father going to do? What could his father do?

“Oh? Let me guess, a peasant?” Lucian recoiled.

“No, much worse than that. She is draelic.” Lascar’s anger waned as he imagined the sheer torture that he was putting his father through.

Lucian shot up from his throne, his face red with fury.

“There is no way that I’m letting my son marry a filthy draelic! Not in a million years!” Lucian yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Well, then I guess we are at an impasse. I will only marry her. I guess I am not marrying anyone then.” Lascar paced slower and a seditious grin stretched across his face.

Lucian walked quickly to his son and drew back his hand, intending to strike him. When he swung forward Lascar caught his hand. Lucian could feel the strength in his son’s grip. Terror soon filled his face and Lascar relished in it.

“Just get out of my sight!” Lucian yelled then turned and walked back to the throne. “I wanted a strong and dutiful son. All I got was you!”

Lascar turned and started slowly toward the door then decided that he hadn’t tortured his father nearly enough.

“Be careful what you wish for, father,” Lascar said as he reached the door. He paused for a second, waiting for the question that was surely coming.

“What does that mean?!” Lucian yelled. He was clearly upset and afraid.

“I will never be dutiful but I grow stronger by the day.” Lascar’s grin widened and became more sinister. He turned and slammed the throne room door as he left, cracking the door frame and nearly pulling the door off its hinges.

Over the next few years, Lascar and Lucian did their best to avoid each other. Lascar spent most of his time in his room, reading and daydreaming about the beautiful draelic woman. Lucian, on the other hand, took many trips. He met with strange people and wrote cryptic letters to people claiming to know about artifacts with magical powers. Although Lascar didn’t know it at the time, his father was trying to find a way to remove Lascar’s power or at the very least protect himself from it.

During these years, Lucian lost interest in the draelic war. The new queen of the draelic eventually succeeded in forcing Tyrillia to acknowledge Norzen’s freedom. Part of the treaty gave draelic the right to attend the Tyrillia Academy as well as forbidding any human from keeping draelic as slaves. This caused quite an uproar in Tyrillia and even had humans questioning whether Lucian should stay in power. The uprisings were quickly dealt with by force and things returned to normal. Human nobles didn’t like acknowledging draelic freedom but they had little choice, they didn’t dare challenge Lucian. The king would slaughter them and their families just like he had the small uprisings.

On Lascar’s nineteenth birthday Lucian broke the silence between them, again calling Lascar to the throne room.

This time all Lascar felt as he pushed open the doors to the throne room was indifference. His father was not even worth his anger any longer. He was no longer a scared child, he was nineteen today and officially a man. Over the last few years Lascar had read nearly every book in the kingdom, he was smarter than his father as well as stronger. There was no reason to fear his father, he just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. Now that he was a man he planned on traveling to Norzen. There were many books there that he hadn’t read yet and he just might run into the seductive, blue draelic girl again.

Lascar’s apathy was clearly visible to his father as he approached the throne and this made Lucian angry.

“Now that you are nineteen I’ve decided that you should train at the academy,” Lucian said snidely.

“What!” Lascar recoiled. “Only commoners go to the academy. There has never been a noble there.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that. But you act like a commoner. You refuse to find a wife unless it is a loathsome draelic.” The words curled Lucian’s lips like he had tasted sour wine.

“I am traveling to Norzen tomorrow,” Lascar countered.

“Good luck finding the money to do that. You are now cut off. Perhaps in a few months you can make enough for the trip by shoeing horses? You do know how to shoe a horse right?” Lucian was enjoying this far too much.

Lascar didn’t answer he just stared at his father menacingly, desperately trying to keep his eyes from lighting up.

“No? Well then, perhaps the academy would be the smarter choice. You are smart right? I hope all the money I spent on scholars wasn’t a waste. I really hope they didn’t lie to me. Maybe you fooled them? No, wait. That would take intelligence.” Lucian paused but Lascar still remained silent. “I guess you will be moving to the academy then. Your carriage waits in the courtyard. Get your stuff and get out of my castle!”


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