*Image credited to Zamboni Luca on Pinterest*

A book opens on the illustration of a kingdom. This is where our story begins.

'Since it's formation the Heiling Kingdom faced little conflict. Except for the scrounging village at its Western fringe and dreaded Dark Zone. Dangerous creatures reside in both. The proud and bloodthirsty vampires, and sly sorcerers.'

'Before then, 150 years ago the tale begins with a tyrant. Ruling the fledgeling starting bud of a monarchy with cold reproach and apathy toward it's suffering lower class...'

"Let's close the book for now Sammy."

The young prince rubs his dark brown eyes as he does so, with a winding grunt.

"We can leave it here then," his tutor said with a smile, "enjoy yourself for now. Happy birthday prince."

"Thank you," he yelled, running out of the library.

A stone wall circled the riding grounds. Sammy kept his horse within its center. It had been a few years since he had seen his community proper. Outside the occasional Census and tax receipts from shops as part of his Court study. So many years, perhaps half his life, since he had felt safe. Even on the grounds of his home he kept a knife at his belt.

When the first goblin burst through the wall, Sammy fell off the stallion's saddle. Three more came armed with clubs. Four pairs of dull eyes stared toward their felled prey in thuggish intent. Malignant and cruel.

Sammy rose to face the intruders.

"HELP! HELP!" he yelled as he avoided a club attack.

Goblin skin was scaly and very thick. Sammy's small knife was lying useless in the grass. The young Prince equally so, lay battered at the goblins' feet. Green hands grabbed at him.

"Take your hands off him!" King Clemont boomed. Sammy bit the thick hand.

A scream cut the grunting laughter.

The growly noises may have been speech.

Yet capturing his focus, was being lifted by his legs, unable to kick or buck against the incoming swing.

For a few seconds, the pain of getting slammed on the ground left him breathless.

Soldiers tried to approach. But the goblins held their captive as a shield.

Sammy was stuffed into a sack.

Blood rushed to his head as he was jostled around. With the hot air and dizziness it got hard to keep his eyes open.

*Image of Waitomo glow worm caves from getyourguide.com*

He shivered at the sudden cold. Sammy noticed the walls and floor made of stone. A screech of metal made the goblin circle recede.

"Leave us with our guest," a rich, very pretty voice said. The green creatures readily obeyed.

As steps approached Prince Sammy sat up, glaring at a pair of tall, stately figures. A man and woman with somewhat similar features wearing dark blue.

The man had a hollow face and scarred hands. He looked at Sammy with utter revulsion, the kind of grimace reserved for some slimy thing under his shoe. Grabbing the seething prince he felt a sharp point at his back. At the chamber's center was a large metal cage.

"I'd walk if I were in your place," his partner advised sounding quite bored.

Entering the cage he was stripped of his belt. The woman turned out to be a witch. With her magic she maneuvered a length of rope binding his wrists, snaking cross his flesh in brutal bounds in such a way he feared his hands would soon be bloodless. "Now behave or my sister and I will make you suffer," the warlock said coldly.

With those words Sammy was left with six goblin guards.

The king and queen received a ransom note. Their son would only be returned alive if the barrier in their land came down. A hefty reward was offered for his rescue. But a week passed and all attempts failed.

Until an unexpected rescuer came forward.

Tyler worked in a dark, dingy bar in a port town. Customers smelled like their day's catch and salt. For most of the day he stayed in the bar or his small, meager room. Vampires like him weren't fond of the sun.

Halter loved its gossip. At night the pale vampire loaded ships. The sailors discussed the kidnapping. "King and queen reported they were goblins. That the case prob'ly ay witch 'hind the scenes commandin' em," a gruff grey bearded pirate said in an odd accent.

"I heard they's willing to pay his weight in gold," another sailor said.

An idea popped into his head. "So you'd say they'd give, just about anything?" he asked, careful not to betray emotion.

"Prob'ly, but we ain't no soldiers," the pirate said with a chuckle. Maybe, but he was stronger and faster by his own power than an army.

He made sure his boss was asleep before packing up. Tyler's possessions were a small sack of money, a sword, and spare clothes. The sheathed sword being hidden under a dark, frayed cloak. If he was lucky, he could get inside before the sun came up.

The week was a nightmare. If Sammy could even rest thinking it had only been seven days. Every singular time he stared at Claudia or Ronan wrong he'd get beat. The first still lingered in his mind. Cemented firmly as the worst of his sorrows and suffering. After cutting the ropes he was quickly discovered. And so the pair saw fit to completely immobilize him. With their combined magic, formidable and domineering on its own, they'd set him on fire.

Only completely absent of flames and even whence they released him, residual sparks raked up his skin and into his blood.

Besides the screams he'd forlornly cried.

___________

Tyler saw the palace as stars started to dim. He rushed to find shade. The storefront he was under had posters of Sammy. Rays of sun creeped through the roads as the town began to wake up. If he stepped out he'd burn.

"What are you doing here?" the owner asked. He was a thin man whose red hair was starting to lose its luster.

"Do you sell hats? I feel I might faint," Tyler asked, pretending to wipe his brow. The owner led him inside without inquiry.

He left the shop with a slightly silly but shady top hat. The guarded walls of the castle came into view. Though Tyler did his utmost to remain invisible. With a leap Tyler scaled over the wall and began to fly.

The castle grounds were vast and obviously well kept. Skimming by long, arduous vines of ivy, the leaves or burrs would come free and cascade downward or cling to his breast. Gardens bloomed in a rainbow of sweet flowers, a training ground had gleaming white marble tables and faux turrets. Tyler then heard a voice in a vert bad temper.

"I do not want *excuses* if you enter these chambers let it only be with my son!" the king in the peaks of a vicious tirade toward several armed soldiers. The man was red in the face.

He waited until the extra men were dismissed. Tyler now saw the Queen calm her husband.

Her gentle hand graced the back of his own. Nestling just a little closer from the confines of their thrones. "Dear we are both suffering but giving in to our emotions won't bring Sammy back," she reasoned.

"I know, I know you are right Lucy," he sighed. "I-- I've failed haven't I?"

"Darling no, no. Neither of us have failed," Lucy implored.

A plea that went on deaf ears to such a shattered man.

"You know as well as I Sammy would say the same. Louder, more earnest, and often than I ever could."

"No matter how scared or full of anguish he himself is," the King agreed, now gazing to the long, red silk carpet leading to their dais. "Sixteen, sixteen years ago he was only a baby, meandering through wherever he pleased.

"I never cared what somewhat important advisor I'd had to meet that day or appointments with foreign dignitaries at my ear."

A strange feeling came over Tyler; watching them, selectively zeroed in to the heavy loss, the longing in their voices. A very similar, just as sickly, musing inside himself. He put the feeling aside. 'Why would he want to be a spineless pretty boy,' he told himself.

The young vampire nimbly entered the throne room. "Greetings your majesty," he said with a bow.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?" Claremont asked. There was a wary look in his dark eyes.

"That does not matter right now. What does is my proposal," he said keeping himself impassive, his voice succinctly vague.

Claremont was stroking his chin. "What kind of proposal?" he said, not a subtle hint of acid to the comment. However, no less interested and no better at holding back, dare he'd say hope.

"For a small price, I'll be able to save the Prince," he said.

"Are you certain about this? Many have tried and all of them have failed, and, you look no older than my son," it was the Queen who spoke up. She was actually concerned for him.

"I appreciate the concern Madam, truly but appearances aren't everything," he pointed out. Much as he would have liked to bare his fangs then.

Until there was a deal made, set and bound... From his sights Tyler just caught the King's hand trailing lightly upon his thigh.

"What is this price?" the King asked. This was it. From this moment it was do or die.

"You see your highness," Tyler began confidently, "I am... not quite human." Without the top hat both royals could see his pale face. It was easy to smile with those expressions. The regal Queen Lucy now gaped like a fish and her husband struggled to find words.

"Guards! Guards!" He'd found his voice. In seconds soldiers swarmed in surrounding Tyler. As their hands went for the guns at their belts he leaped over their heads to the thrones.

"If I wanted to harm you I would've. Now, will you listen to me," Tyler said insistently.

Toward the monarch with his own throwing knives drawn.

"Very well but one wrong move and you will have a long stay in the dungeons boy," the King threatened.

"I'll traverse the Dark Zone, risk life and limb and bring Sammy back safely," Tyler pledged, palm to his chest as the wandering fingers of his left found the gold-leafed steel armrests. "What I ask in return is my full, official citizenship." Tyler waited for the King to respond. Besides what better appeal to use than his child.

"Your Majesty--" a soldier began.

"Stand down. My son's safety, his return that is paramount. I accept on one condition," he said facing his bold intruder. "If you do rescue my son you will be on a probation period as his bodyguard. You will be monitored each second of each day whether you are in his presence or not without exception and should my trust not be abused, I will grant you citizenship," he proposed.

Tyler respected the man's apprehension even admired it. He lived by the phrase 'trust us earned, not given.' A lesson many back home learned is not a proverb but a means of survival. Often coming to fatal consequences.

"Deal." And the King did willfully shake his hand.

Riding in a royal carriage attracted a lot more attention than he wanted. People stared at him, making Tyler feel that the sun may as well be on him.

The escort halted their transport at a grassy field; 30 minutes east of the capital town. No one guarded the entrance to the Dark Zone.

It's sealed barrier was one of the last acts of magic.

King Claremont possessed its only key, a gold scepter with a large red jewel, not quite a ruby. The relic seared a door shaped hole into the field.

Leaving the picturesque kingdom he entered a realm of darkness. Not even his decrepit home looked so inhospitable. In the air Tyler viewed gnarled and bare trees, black ground with the only dots of color being Gothic styled houses and grey 'factories' churning out sickly hued smogs.

Eventually the air intruded on his lungs. Tyler's eyes watered and he went into hacking coughs.

He continued on search, searching for an aforementioned cave.

Tyler kept himself on alert waiting for any odd sound, sight, or even smell. Barren, flat landscape meant near to no cover or retreat from hostile fire or Seeing eyes.

Except the acrid smoke dominated his nose. Suddenly the eerie silence was broken by the call of a crow. The bird was on him like a shadow. Its claws slashed through his clothes. Reaching his sword he went for the kill but it escaped.

All that was left of the attack were the new gashes across his shirt and cloak. Someone clearly knew he was here.

Like clockwork Claudia conjured a plate of salty meat and hard bread into the cage. At least it seemed like it, telling time was difficult with no sky. Plus, he'd sometimes pass out after they used spells. Reluctantly he forced the meager portions down even as his stomach protested.

A bird entered the dreary chamber, a horrid thing named Lucifer. It was the only thing his captor showed any measure of affection for. Perching at his mistress' shoulder he cawed. Whatever it was saying she understood.

"Really, well no one's gotten so close," she said, quite interested with a growing smile. More cawing and she gave a gasp. "He is oh now this will be fun," her gaze landed on Sammy who listened with rapt attention. "Now really eavesdropping that's not very polite," she crooned waggling a finger. He hated that baby voice and Claudia knew it. "Oh well I can tell you you'll be getting company but let's not ruin the surprise more."

Such an ominous turn of her voice, her eyes glittering so gleefully and cruelly, it made an icy trail of bony claws rake down the prince's spine.

Dread slowly sunk his stomach like a stone. Forgetting his bruises and cuts he frantically yelled out, "WHAT does that *mean?* Tell me!"

She said nothing as her long nailed fingers produced pink smoke. He breathed in the scent of fresh apples and flowers but a million times more intoxicating. Sammy laughed at the floating sensation stealing at his thorny, thorny respite and flittering away with all that pain. All the while wondering if this was what a sampling of wine felt like.

Closing his eyes, the captive went into bliss.

The cave was a large mouth on the face of a precipice. Guarding it were two ugly goblins with nail-spiked clubs.

Tyler had been raised on goblin tales. He knew all about their thick skin, brutal nature, but, they were quite dim. A direct assault would be pointless which was the kind of fight he liked.

He picked up a stone and threw it at a goblin. The one with the slight height advantage more favorable. Which just so happened to hit its mark, making it angry. Soon the guards were wrestling on the ground.

Larger they were, the more they oft had to lose and prove. Making for waspish, often ghastly rages.

Entering the cave his skin began to crawl. Stalactites hung over the arena sized chamber. In front of him was a five way crossroad.

A man almost camouflaged in the shadows. Tyler only knew where to turn as he clapped. On his far right was a warlock whose battle scars lined his hands. With him were at least ten other goblins all trained on Tyler.

"Well, well I must say, you are either very brave or very foolish," the man said. With a snap of his fingers the goblins charged.

He took the club of the nearest goblin and whacked it along with two others in a careening whack. One grabbed his cloak and Tyler sent the grubby thing flying. Sensing defeat he rocketed himself upward. Up there wasn't much better. He could sense the bats sleeping. Suddenly a bolt of magic struck his arm. The limb literally became stone dragging him down. The warlock came, ready to finish the job.

An idea came, a crazy and dangerous idea. Taking a breath Tyler allowed his beast to escape. His roar echoed across the cave shaking a swarm of vampire bats awake.

The goblins swarmed like fleas while their master tried to swat the beasts. Tyler suspected that magic may have deformed and cursed the bats. He hobbled off thanks to the imbalance of a stone arm.

What guided him was a new smell. A pungent, metallic smell. Human blood. Luckily this path was clear. At the end he reached a solid steel door. With a punch it came off its hinges. Tyler put it aside carefully then took a tentative step inside.

Unlike the rest of the cave a human touch was in this room. Torches with eerie blue fire threw light onto the large cage and captive inside. Except that was it. No goblins, no accomplice, not even the warlock. Just him and an unconscious Prince. He checked his surroundings looking for traps or triggers. Satisfied Tyler approached the cage. Bending the bars he lifted Prince Sammy's head.

He wore the red and silver of his kingdom. Fine clothes torn and slashed, revealing many injuries. More marred his face.

"Come on wake up," he insisted quietly though the other only grunted.

Tyler jostled, shook, and even slapped him multiple times. All much too loud and wasting altogether too much time. Then he began to stir. He was groggy as he smiled but soon terror awoke him.

___________

Sammy had been peaceful.

Languidly perusing an endless hillside. Atop his favorite, reliable stallion riding fast as he could dream while sun beat down on a tanned, muscular back.

Chipper, slightly playful laughter was never far away and though he could never discern the source or its direction Sammy was sure it was not a thing to fear. Rather, the noise sounded quite safe and loving.

Briefly there would be confusing moments.

Where he'd be in some different embrace of smells and textures, sweat beading different, stronger on his brow from heavy air and the turn of parchment from worn old tomes.

But then that world, it all began to tremble.

Cracks began to appear and he could begin to remember that Sammy had never become King.

He began to remember the fatal drip of one sharply pointed quill.

Color faded in and out, in and out to dizzying cycle.

Until the entire world, avalanched into white like a snow globe turned and abused, forgotten atop the shelf on its side.

He'd expected to wake up in his own warm bed until the firelight danced in his eyes. Then he remembered he was a prisoner. His tired self was greeted by a pale, dark-eyed new face. But his hope was soon dashed when the stranger's open mouth revealed fangs.

In a fear filled frenzy he began to scream and struggle against the rope. The stranger put a hand to his mouth with another finger to his own lips.

"Please your father sent me now shut up," he whispered. But Sammy's mind was still racing. So that's why Claudia had been so happy. Obviously she didn't need Sammy anymore and the vampire would dispose of him. The lie was probably a cruel joke. Even so he'd face his fate with dignity.

___________

It was a few seconds before he quieted down. Still no one was coming. Sammy's expression had turned detached as he looked Tyler in the eye. Though he ignored the behavior, being immensely familiar with the sight.

"Alright we have to be quick," Tyler said undoing the rope.

Sammy helped himself up with trembling legs. He turned to a small table where a knife shone on the dark wood.

With a shove Tyler was knocked aside as he went for his weapon. Before Sammy could point the blade his captors revealed themselves.

The duo had melted from the shadows. To Tyler's pleasure the warlock had new scars now carved into his face. Yet he still smiled with his accomplice.

Sammy had frozen, suddenly unable to trust his knife. But better to have some kind of defense. Wherever this leech stood it wasn't in his favor. As if reading his mind he shielded Sammy. From his back he pulled a musket.

The gun knocked Tyler back when shot then suddenly he was reeling.

Tyler clutched his arm as a burning pain shot through it. It hadn't healed in fact it was practically cooking. Silver, he realized. Horrid silver bullets. Suddenly feeling weak he crumpled to his knees.

"Well it's been fun but we won't wait anymore. Instead we'll rely on other measures," he heard the witch say.

It was those words that kicked Sammy. In a wild moment, feeling no fear not feeling anything he lunged for the gun. But with a thought the floor gaped open swallowing both boys.

Down they fell into a dark abyss.

Sammy's vision saw only dark outlines that panned vastly forward.

Meanwhile, Tyler could see walls of stones patterned in a twisted web of pathways.

The fall took Tyler's breath away as the resulting jolt sent a wave of pain to his arm. Clenching his teeth he fought the terrorizing grip of nausea.

____________

In just a couple minutes a young vampire turned every idea about them upside down. Sammy wanted there to be an ulterior motive for his selfless actions. So far, he couldn't see one as blood continued to seep from the wound.

"Let me look at it," Sammy said catching Tyler by surprise. He knelt down, looking at him right in the eye. Gently he pulled Tyler's other arm back.

Sammy drew back a little.

Slowly he pressed his own hand over the wound.

Tyler uttered a sharp gasp.

"Sorry," Sammy responded. Tearing his sleeve Sammy tied it firmly, numbing his pain.

"That shout stop the bleeding so let's go," Sammy said turning to the maze entrance. His guard was up, obviously wary of Tyler. Maybe he had some brains after all.

"Hang on," Tyler said, "flying will be faster just hold on to me." Kneeling might've been better as he watched, with some amusement, as the Prince struggled but he could never live down that humiliation. Finally he had his arms wrapped around Tyler similar to a harness.

Weakened by his injury even Sammy's meager weight made the initial ascent shaky.

Having never flown before Sammy was quite fearful. His eyes were clamped shut holding on with a vice grip. He experienced a floating sensation as his stomach suddenly turned hollow. Cold air swept his hair causing an eruption of goosebumps. Before he knew it Sammy mentally urged him to go higher and farther.

Quite spellbound by the entire experience.

Suddenly the bliss ended as the vampire hit an invisible wall knocking them back.

"Then I guess we walk," Sammy said, with some disappointment.

*moon phase picture from Amazon.com*

Tyler took note of the designs on the separate square tiles. From new moon to full moon.

"Sammy look does this mean anything to you?" he asked pointing down.

Sammy studied the symbols. As far as he could see they panned across the passage. No way that they were placed randomly.

"There's some kind of pattern here," he reported. Sammy stepped on the waxing crescent tile which buckled under his weight. A spike shot up where his foot had been a second before.

Hearing the word pattern had put the pieces together in his mind. The moons have to progress like the one in nature. Not that Sammy would take his word.

"Look, no spikes," Tyler pointed out standing at the new moon tile. "Follow my lead."

Following and repeating the pattern they had an almost safe way through the passage. A few close calls had nearly cost them their lives. Realizing the pattern himself Sammy had gotten ahead of Tyler. The right tiles had also gotten farther apart.

Taking a leap of faith the dolt had nearly triggered another trap.

Finally the boobytrapped tiles had given way to regular stone. Tyler let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Vampires were nearly illiterate. So how and why had this one had knowledge of lunar patterns? Sammy shelved that for later.

"Before we go on could I at least know your name," Sammy requested.

"Tyler," he said stiffly as if expecting hostility. There was obviously no affection but having no trust in him put the royal on edge. Obviously he needed Sammy alive but what then? He couldn't be certain the gun had come from Sammy's father.

With his keen eyes Tyler began to notice a change in the floor. Strange shining lines like fine spider silk. The prince must've noticed since he kneeled inches from one.

"Be on alert when I do this we'll only have a split second," he warned drawing his knife. Slashing the string both boys ducked just in time to avoid a barrage of darts. "Tripwires," he muttered.

Turning to Tyler he asked, "how nimble are you?"

"Extremely," he replied like a challenge.

They played a sort of hopscotch through the rest of the tripwires. All the while Tyler's thoughts were on Sammy and a strange affinity that was developing.

Back home if the royal had fangs he might just be welcomed as a native. Like many Sammy was sharp and cautious. But he had something else that would make others whisper; courage. Tyler had that, at least in the sense he'd choose his one friend over safety. Maybe, just maybe, he could respect this human.

After the tripwire trap it was safe. No tricks or snares of any kind. As such the two got to actually talk.

"So we're clear we don't like or trust each other?" Tyler asked. It was so obvious Sammy was puzzled why he asked.

"Yes but you are my best chance of getting out alive," he replied. "Oh can you read? You had to learn lunar patterns somewhere."

"Very little," he admitted looking away. Tyler could feel his face going red. No, it was nothing to be ashamed of. "Usually that luxury's for the rich but we commoners have our ways."

Even though Sammy enjoyed the peace he wondered if this was another game. No way would Claudia Ronan make it so easy. He was about to point that out until the floor began to give out.

With a look an understanding passed between them and they bolted. For a moment Sammy dared to look back. He could see spikes shining as if they were smiling. No matter how fast they went only two or three inches stood between them and death.

Tyler couldn't count the number of times he felt he'd die. Even some so unreasonable and absurd with hindsight.

The loss of control as he stood toward the edge of panic. Panic and terror so raw and beyond his mere mortal body... that it stared back.

But it wasn't all about him. Losing Sammy, a strange feeling came with the thought. Almost like he was sinking.

All at once he stopped, grabbing the scruff of Sammy's shirt. With a heave he threw the prince sending him flying. His cheer brought the barest flicker of a smile even as his arm ripped open.

The adrenaline had quickly died letting Sammy register stabs of pain across his body. Crazy or not he was giving Tyler a piece of his mind, barely aware he was on solid ground.

His breath left him seeing Tyler barely hanging on a solitary bit of rock. Even he couldn't disguise the agony his arm must have been giving him. "Hang on!" Sammy called out, racing towards Tyler.

"No stop! turn around and keep going," Tyler insisted. Shock made him heed the first order but Sammy refused to turn around. It just wouldn't be honorable.

Lying on his stomach Sammy stretched out for his hand. "Please the ground could completely give out," Tyler continued to insist.

"I won't leave," Sammy grunted leaning farther. Then he saw the sword.

"Your sword! I can use it to pull you up," he proposed. Tyler unstrapped his belt, sacrificing the item. Gripping the leather sheath Sammy heaved.

Using it as a vine Tyler dug his claw-like nails into the wall and climbed up to Sammy. He was okay, so why did the Prince look like he'd be sick? Then he realized he couldn't feel his arm. Tyler shook his arm. Seeing the movement but the limb still felt dead.