The Tale of Alar

The Tale of Alar R. J. Firetail For Toa, the Adam in my life. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Text Copyright © 2024 by R. J. Firetail Cover Art Copyright © 2024 by Sara “Caribou” Miles Published by Red Drake Books, an imprint of Ash Tree Media All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. Visit ashtreemedia.com Prologue “Gone!” exclaimed King Ambrose, his great red tail brush standing on end. “What do you mean, gone?” “I mean that your daughter, the fair Princess Ambrosia, is not to be found, sire,” replied his attendant. “She has simply vanished. All we found was this letter, which was left on her bed. It is addressed to Your Majesty.” The squirrel king snatched it away from the servant’s trembling paw and broke the seal, then dashed over to the window and read it through. His whole frame sagged as he read until he seemed bent double with age. When he had finished, he passed the letter back to the attendant with weak paws. “It seems that poor beggar we were kind enough to take in last night was none other than that cad of a dark wizard.” “Not Magus, surely?” gasped the attendant. Ambrose nodded wearily. “The very same.” “Good lord! He says he’s kidnapped the princess!” “Indeed.” “But what shall we do, sire? If we do not pay his requested ransom within two months, he says here he shall transform her into a monster and make the entire kingdom suffer!” He gave the letter back to the king. “Can that really be done, sire? Even by a wizard as powerful as Magus?” “I do not doubt that it can, Jacob. Skilled practitioners of black magic are capable of abominable acts beyond the comprehension of most. The only real question is why he should give us so long to reply. Patience is not one of Magus’s better known virtues, as I recall. But regardless, we cannot simply let him have his demands unchallenged. What would the people say?” “I should think they’d be most distraught, sire. But if you asked it of them, they would no doubt pay the ransom for the dear princess. They do love her so.” “No more than I, dear Jacob. But that would be giving him exactly what he wants, don’t you see? And when once you give in to the likes of Magus, they never stop hounding you. Soon others will perceive your weakness and come from miles around to see what they can get out of you until there is nothing left but bones for the scavengers to pick over.” He paused, sighed, then shook his head firmly. “Nay, not I. This is what I shall do. Send word throughout the land: I hereby ask the best and bravest warriors of Kentros to come to my court at noon on the last day of this month to fulfill for me a quest, for which I shall offer a great reward.” “As you say, my lord. But won’t Magus take that as a sign of defiance?” “What difference would it make? He has already revealed that he cannot act on his threat for two months.” “Right you are, sire.” Jacob bowed and scurried away. King Ambrose leaned against the wall, glanced at the message, then crumpled it in his paw. He shook his fist at the window looking out over his beloved city and the lands beyond. “A curse upon you, Magus! This time you have gone one step too far. But by Skiouros I will not rest until justice is served or my kingdom left in utter ruin.”