Saga of an Outcast; Part III

A Story by Nastasha

Exiled from his home court, Prince Evant must now find a place to fit in.

Evant, Exiled Prince of Phelin, slowly made his way from what he had once called home to a country he had never visited. With the help of Second King Shelton he was easily able to survive the dangers of the journey. Shelton passed to him spells that, though his level of magical ability was far lower than any of his family members', he was able to use successfully to ward off dangerous creatures, especially those human monsters who would find it enjoyable to torment an eleven-year-old boy alone in the countryside. Eventually, he made it to the nation of Algoma, two years later. He wandered into the city of Sald, and instantly found it more inviting than every other city and village he’d passed through. He decided to stay. It wasn’t difficult to find a job in a stable, and a long-term room at the inn across the street from it. He spoke with Shelton daily to tell him how he was faring. That was how he learned that his parents were all on speaking terms again, not too long after he left.

On his five year anniversary of leaving Phelin, he sat eating lunch in the restaurant of the inn he called home. The stable master gave him an hour each day for lunch, and he always took the break happily. He was taking a sip of the poor-quality ale that was the only beverage sold at the inn when he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, movement at the door. His head turned to look at the stranger entering as he set down his cup.

The young man was tall and leanly built, with shoulder-length dark brown hair hanging loose, a noble’s clothing, and light gray eyes that didn’t take any notice of Evant as he sat down at a table across the slightly crowded room. Evant caught sight of a strawberry blond streak of hair over the stranger’s right eye. He watched him place his order with the waitress and lean back in his chair. Suddenly his eyes flashed to Evant. Their gazes met across the room for a moment, before Evant hastily looked down at his plate.

Even as embarrassed as he was for being caught watching the stranger, Evant couldn’t help but continue to glance at him as he finished his lunch. When his plate was clean he remained at his table to finish his ale more slowly than usual. He saw the stranger take the last bite of his own meal and rise to his feet. Evant quickly diverted his eyes and waited for the other man to leave.

A moment later Evant felt the heat rising to his face as the shadow fell over him. Slowly he lifted his gaze to the hand resting atop his table, then up the blue-clad arm, up the shoulder and neck, and to the face of the stranger he had been watching. There was no visible expression on that face, a face that showed an age no older than his own. Evant swallowed and held his cup tightly in his hands.

“Does there happen to be a reason why you were watching me?” the stranger asked, his voice hinting at no emotion.

Evant felt his face grow red and he swallowed again. He shook his head and looked back down at his cup. His hands were beginning to tremble.

To his surprise, the other young man pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. “There must be a reason,” he persisted.

Evant fiddled with his cup, which was still filled a quarter of the way with the nearly tasteless beverage. It sloshed around gently inside, for a long moment the only sound between the two men.

“You… you just caught my eye,” he admitted at last, then finished in a rush, “You’re very handsome.” He cursed himself mentally as he felt his face flush even deeper and he continued to slosh his ale with shaking hands.

The other laughed, making him look up. “Thank you.”

Evant only stared at him. “Doesn’t that make you feel uncomfortable, a man telling you that he finds you handsome?” he asked, his voice shaking slightly.

“Actually, no,” the stranger replied, smiling. “You’re quite handsome yourself.”

Evant glanced away. No one had ever told him that before, male or female.

“I’m Hailan Altrien,” he went on, offering his hand.

“The lord’s son,” Evant nearly gasped as he looked up again. That explained his noble attire.

“One of them,” Hailan said with a smile.

Evant took his hand. Shaking hands was one Algoman custom he had quickly grasped in his first months within the country. “It is pleasant to be speaking on friendly terms with such a man of high status. I am Evant Deandre, of Phelin.”

He knew that Deandre was a common name in his homeland, so there was little chance of Hailan making the connection between him and the Grand King.

Hailan took his hand back, still smiling. It was a charming smile, one that made Evant smile in return. “I’m not very fond of the formal terms of speaking,” Hailan explained. “I don’t like acting higher than everyone else. So, why is a man from Phelin living in this tiny city of Sald?”

Evant wasn’t keen on speaking about his past with him, no matter how friendly the conversation was. At least not yet. “I just wanted a different life,” he replied. His hand no longer trembled as he touched his hair to be sure that the wavy black locks hid the pale scar of his Mark of Exile. They did.

His eyes fell again on the strawberry blond streak through Hailan’s hair. “Your hair is interesting,” he observed.

Hailan watched him place both hands around his cup once more and nodded. “All my siblings and I have these patches of different-colored hair. We always have. It comes from our father, and from all of us being elemental wizards.”

Evant leaned forward a bit in his chair. “What can you do?” he asked.

Hailan held up his palm and a small flame appeared upon it. Then his closed his fist, and when he opened it again the flame was gone. “I have powers involving fire,” he explained. “There are many other things I can do, but they’re too dangerous for in here.”

“My powers almost don’t exist,” Evant stated, awed.

Hailan was about to reply, but was cut off by an older man strolling over to their table. His mouth was set in a firm line. “Your hour ended twenty minutes ago,” he growled sharply to Evant.

He jumped, nearly toppling his cup. Hailan saved it. “I need to go,” he said to his new companion.

Hailan nodded. “Will you be here tomorrow?” he asked.

Evant got to his feet. “I have lunch here everyday,” he answered. “Goodbye.” He turned to go, following the stable master. He heard Hailan call a farewell after him as he walked to the door.

Little did Evant know that he had just met his future.