Young Writers Society

Hi there, again. Here's the third chapter. Enjoy and stuff.

Word Count: 2000 words approx.

Chapter Three

He was back there, again. Back in the throne room at the Belasian Palace. He could see Brynn and Daeron. The Conquerer was standing in front of the throne, on the second last step leading up to the dias. Beside the throne stood Brynn's father. Devon knew he was trying to plead with his father, trying to convince him they were father and son.

And Daeron wasn't buying it.

Devon knew what was coming next. That was when he decided to borrow Brynn's magic--only he hadn't realised then that he kept the magic. He could imagine what people would say, what they would call him. Magic Eater, Magic Stealer. Oath Breaker. Well, maybe not that last one, but still. He stole magic, he ate it. In a sense. That was bad, right? Yeah, that was pretty bad, indeed.

Brynn was staring up at him. Daeron was standing right behind the kid with his hands on Brynn's shoulders. Devon could see how tense the boy was, see the way his shoulders liftede even though it seemed like the boy wasn't scared. He could still see the fear, though, lurking deep within the boy. Brynn's fear was so bright, so easy to see. Devon could read the boy's emotions like a book. Brynn was scared of Daeron, and scared of his own magic.

Devon could fix that for him. Cringing, he watched on helplessly as his past self reached out a hand, magic extending beyond it towards the boy. Brynn's eyes went wide as he felt Devon's magic reach for him, as it reached into him and their magic met. Devon felt it react, felt it try to reject him, but he tightened his hold and tugged. Brynn's magic resisted for a moment before something seemed to snap and it began to leak into him.

Daeron's gaze narrowed on him. Devon met it head-on. This was his father, and he should not be afraid of him. After all, the Conquerer was just a man. A man with magic, yes, but mortal. Capable of dying. Come on, Brynn, he thought, tugging a little harder when the boy's magic tried to resist his influence again. I'm only going to borrow it for a little bit.

But, oh, how wrong he was. He never wanted to hurt the boy; just prove something to his father. Yet in the end, he had stolen Brynn's magic. Devon regretted it now, but for the moment, he had to keep watching. He couldn't stop. He might miss something. After all, he was sure this was a dream by now. He'd escaped the palace and fled across the border into Verlisia, hadn't he?

Brynn's eyes widened as the last of his magic trickled out of him. Daeron's hands tightened on the boy's shoulders even as the kid began to collapse. Devon watched on in horror as Brynn's eyes began to glaze over.

No! he shouted, voice loud in the sudden ringing silence of the dream-throne room. That is not how it happened! It's not how it's supposed to happen! He looked past the pair to Brynn's father, and the dark, disapproving look on the older man's face. This is not how it happened!

Devon watched as Ilarion Havart rushed towards his son and the Emperor. His gaze was drawn back to Daeron, who knelt over the boy, hands on his face even though his eyes stayed on Devon. He panicked, backing up a step. Ilarion reached his son's side and dropped onto his knees beside him. Devon watched as the Conquerer let the man take the boy into his arms. He watched as Daeron the Conquerer, Emperor of Belasi, stood up and pointed an accussing finger at him.

"This is who you are, Devon," he shouted, spreading his arms wide. "This is what you will become."

Icy cold water sloshed over his face, jolting Devon out of his dream. He blinked and spluttered, struggling against the rope tying his wrists together behind his back. After a moment, he shook his head and finally made out the figure standing in front of him, bucket in hand. The dream still tugged at him, though. A warning, and a promise. Devon did not want to be like his father; he was not like him.

"Hello, Devon," said the man, who he could now tell was Kaj. "We need to have a little chat."

The bucket was handed off to one of the other men. Devon narrowed his gaze at the big burly man smirking at him over Kaj's shoulder. Kaj crossed his arms over his chest. The movement dragged Devon's attention back to him. He let his head fall back against the tree he now realised was at his back and took a deep breath. The rope that bound his wrists was also tied right around the tree's trunk. He wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

"We should give him a little nudge, Cap'n," the burly man grunted, kicking dirt at him. Devon felt it hit him face. He tried not to react. "Might loosen 'is tongue some."

"No, Baraq," Kaj said, the tone brooking no agument. Devon very nearly smiled; the man sounded so authoritive like that. "Let's be civil with the runaway slave, shall we?"

Devon's eyes flew open and he let his head drop forward. He stared hard at Kaj. "I'm no slave."

"Those earrings say otherwise."

His gaze narrowed. Kaj smirked at him. Devon considering shutting his mouth and not opening it again. Although one look at Baraq, the big burly man, had him changing his mind. It would probably be wise to play nice with them. At least, for a little while. They might get him further away from the border before they decided that selling him would be a good idea. Hopefully he could escape before then.

"Fine," he ground out. "What do you want to know?"

Kaj smiled and crouched down in front of him. "I want to know what a Belasi slave is doing so far from the Conquerer's palace."

Devon froze, eyes darting from Kaj to Baraq to the others and back. How was supposed to reply to that? Should he tell the truth? No, no. The truth meant he'd have to tell them about his magic. Kaj's gaze narrowed. Devon tried to look away but the other man suddenly lurchd forward and gripped his chin tightly, holding his head still.

"You're hiding something," Kaj whispered, eyes darting down to his mouth and back up. "Tell me or I'll let Baraq over there have a little fun with you before we sell you to the highest bidder. The nobles will pay a fortune for a Belasi bedslave."

Think quick, Devon, he told himself as he scrambled for a believable tale to tell the other man. Well, he didn't have to say anything about magic, did he? He just had to tell Kaj he tried to kill Daeron's favourite toy. That would work. He winced as Kaj's fingernails dug into his chin. The bedslave comment stung, plus it made his face red. He decided to address that first. These men needed to know he was off-limits.

"I'm not a bedslave," he said quietly, dropping his gaze. "I worked in the kitchens, alright? I'm a kitchen lad."

Kaj snorted at that. "A kitchen lad?" he asked, pulling back some. "You sure don't look like one."

Devon swallowed. "I get that a lot," he said, rather hoarsely. Kaj released him and moved back a little. "I swear, I've never touched another before, well. Not men, at least. Maybe a fellow severant girl or two, but never a man."

"So you weren't ever in the Conquerer's bed?" Baraq interjected, smirk widening. Devon paled considerably. "What's with that look, huh?"

"I told you," he hissed. "Daeron is my father, so no. I've never been in his bed!"

Baraq looked at Kaj, who shrugged. "I believe him."

"You're no fun," Baraq grunted and moved off, followed by most of the others. Those left were a young boy and one of the other, less burly men. Devon frowned. The kid hadn't been there before, had he? He wasn't sure. He hadn't gotten a good look before he'd recieved a good whack to the head. He eyed the burly man as he crouched by the fire. Had to be that one; none of the others looked like they enjoyed hurting people as much as the burly Baraq.

"So, what are you doing so far from Daeron's palace?"

Devon sighed, trying to come up with a believable story that excluded his magic. He had it in moments. "I tried to kill Daeron's favourite toy."

"Brynn?" Kaj asked, blinking. "The little magechild?"

"Uh, yes, the very same."

Kaj seemed to stare at him for a very long time. Devon stared back, unsure of how the other man would react. He let his head drop further, closing his eyes. He could still feel Kaj's eyes on his face, though. The man's gaze seemed to burn, and that same feeling from before washed over him. That sense of deja vu. He tried to shake it off, to ignore it, but it persisted. What was it about Kaj that made him feel like this? It was downright weird, and he didn't like it. Not one bit.

"I'm not sure if you're crazy or stupid," Kaj announced. It made Devon glance up, eyes wide. After a moment, the younger man sighed and shook his head. "Alright, that explains why you're on the run." He fixed Devon with a stern glance. "But that doesn't explain the whole 'Daeron is my father' thing you mentioned."

"Oh," Devon muttered, avoided Kaj's peircing gaze. "That."

"Well?"

Devon grimaced. "Well, you see....my mother was seduced into his bed. You can guess what happened nine months later, right?"

"Ah, I see." Kaj grimaced and stood abruptly. "Why didn't you act on that knowledge earlier?"

"I did try to tell him, you know, but he wouldn't listen," he told the other man. "As for my mother; I didn't learn of it until her death less than a year ago. I don't know why she decided to tell me of it then, and I still don't know. She died and left me with a dead woman's word that Daeron the Conquerer is my father..."

"So you were biding your time until you could confront him about it?" Kaj asked. When Devon nodded, the younger man shook his head again. "What made you think that trying to kill that man's favourite magechild would be a good idea?"

"Spur of the the moment," Devon muttered, looking away. "A mistake on my part. One I will not make again, if I can help it."

Kaj turned away. Devon saw from the corner of his eyes how he stiffened when he saw the kid. "Sage," Kaj said, sounding sour. "I didn't know you were back already."

The boy grinned, tilting his head to one side. "Got back from the village early. Won't have any trouble with them tomorrow." The kid's attention turned to him. Devon tensed up as that green gaze drifted over his face. "Who's this?"

"Never you mind, Sage," Kaj snapped. "Get back to camp."

Sage seemed to stiffen at the older man's tone, and he scowled at him. "What's this? No 'How's Imogen'? No 'What did you do today, Sage'? What is this, a band of thieves?" The kid snorted and turned to stride off, muttering under his breath about 'stupid thieves and their lack of manners'.

Devon though it was odd. Kaj just shook his head and followed after him, leaving Devon to stare back towards camp and the direction they'd disappeared in. After a moment, he decided he'd have to do something with his spare time. Trying to free himself with magic might do the trick, loath as he was to even consider his magic at the moment. Before he began, though, he made sure Kaj and the others were out of sight. Then he set to work.