The Foundations of Madness

"You've been asleep for almost five days."

Ash didn't respond. His eyes never left the bed sheets that covered his legs and part of his torso. He sat as straight as he could out of respect but never raised his head to meet his master's gaze.

"Five days," the Archmage repeated as he paced in front of the small cot Ash was resting in. "Five days. The spell was difficult, as we warned, but five days was beyond what we had expected, boy. This is abysmal."

"I'm sorry," Ash muttered. The Archmage ignored him.

"Child, we have seen the potential you possess. You're mastery over elemental magic is very impressive and you are improving in several other subjects. Those were not compliments," the old Mage added with a glare. "Merely facts, facts that make this situation all the more a mystery."

Ash said nothing. He turned his head toward the opposite wall. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

The Archmage stopped pacing and sighed. His gaze soften. "Perhaps...perhaps it was too much to expect from a child..."

"No!" Ash screamed. He tossed the blankets off him and tried prop himself up to his feet. "I'll get better. I swear! I can do better! I'll do better! Don't send me away!"

The Archmage arched his eyebrow as he gently pushed the young apprentice back in bed. "Send you away? Where did you...ah." The Archmage nodded slowly. "Do not worry," he assured. He got to his feet. "Yes, it was too early...this is not a question of skill," the old man added quickly as Ash tried getting back up. "Merely of age and maturity. We will explore arcane conscious manipulation and probing some later time."

"Yes sir," said Ash. "T-thank you."

The Archmage shook his head and turned to leave the white room. His hand rested on the door handle. "We do not know what you saw nor do we wish. The damage has been done but remember this: a man's worth cannot be measured, especially not by the man himself. Enjoy your sweets." With a sweep of his white robes, the Archmage disappeared.

"Sweets?" Ash turned to the bed stand. Next to the empty water jug was a crystal glass filled with peppermint sticks...

Ash shivered involuntarily as the crisp cold wind cut across his cheeks. He stared down at the farms below, where the harvesters scurried like ants, gathering the last sheaves of wheat and stalks of corn. They sure looked like ants from this height anyhow.

Another gust of wind blew by, sending Ash's dark bangs over his eyes. He scowled as he pulled the hair back. He would need a haircut soon, he concluded. Ash shook again, his light jacket poor protection from the cold air. How he hated the cold.

"You excited for the Harvest Festival?" asked the blond boy beside him. As Ramth spoke, he sucked on a green peppermint stick.

Ash shrugged, tossing the last remains of his from the edge and watching it plummet down beside the tower.

"I'm sure excited," the princeling continued. "I heard that the Dwarves are coming this year. That's always fun. You know what makes a festival a festival?"

"Food? Games?" Ash ventured. "An air and want of tomfoolery?"

"Well, that too. But Dwarves are the best party-ers. Did you hear about the Prancing Pony inn a couple a years ago?"

"The one that was destroy and burned down in a drunken bar fight?" Ash vaguely remembered the sermon Mother Grena gave on temperance that week and the ear yanking he and five other boys received for falling asleep.

"Yeah. That was a Dwarf," Ramth said with a chuckle. "They don't usually visit Human cities but we always see a few traders and travelers and ambassadors and stuff and they're usually friendly. Noisy but really fun. Some of them are pretty short-tempered and rude and Mother doesn't care for them but Dad loves them. He always invites the artist-o-cats over for festivals and feasts but not many come over I really like the ones who do. Oh, I know this one Dwarf. He's a noble but he's really nice. I think you'll really like him. He's really funny and..."

Ramth's voice became a blur and Ash stopped paying attention. He leaned on the edge and watched the harvesters again. Daylight was burning away and the farmers had doubled their speed to finish their gathering before nightfall. Even from this height and light, Ash could see the peasants' franticness. The king had promised to double their wages if the job was done early and King Sethiop was not known for empty words.

Ash stifled a yawn and lowered his head. His eyes fell to the earth below him and he was afflicted with sudden dizziness as he realized just how dangerous his position was. If a man fell from this height, never mind a

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Ash felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to face Ramth who was frowning.

"You alright?" he asked. "You looked really out of it. I know the doctors said you were fine but-"

"It's nothing," Ash quickly asserted, waving his hand as if trying to brush away the blond boy's concerns like bothersome flies. "Just, you know, thinking."

Ramth shook his head. "You do too much of that, you know. It's like they always say, act before you think."

Ash rolled his eyes but made no move or attempt to correct the princeling. He sat down and leaned his back against the tower's cold stone wall. Ramth joined him, ignoring the dust that clung to his trousers.

"So, what were you thinking?"

Ash shrugged. "You know, stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah...stuff."

"Hm..."

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expanded and grew between the two boys, like the chill in air that became colder as the sun began its descent.

"Ramth? Am I a bad person?"

"Huh?" Ramth turned to the apprentice Mage. "What do mean?"

Ash closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "Do you think I'm a bad person?"

"Hm..." Ramth got to his feet. "Well...hm...well, it wouldn't kill you to smile more, you're a little mopey all the time, you're kinda rude sometimes..."

Ash's glare was met with a sheepish grin and a shrug. Ash let his head fall, hiding his eyes beneath a black curtain.

"But..." Ramth continued, extending the vowel.

Ash rubbed his arm against his eyes. He looked up and saw the same friendly grin Ramth always seemed to wear when they hung out.

"You're my friend and I'm not friends with bad guys." He extended a hand out. "C'mon, I think the chefs are making cheesecake right now. If we hurry, we can grab a piece before supper."

"Yeah." Ash grabbed the offered hand and, with Ramth help, got up. "Let's do

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...could have taken them."

The boy scoffed. "No you couldn't."

Once more Ash glared at the tall youth. "How would you know?"

"There were two of them, both twice your size. Maybe one of them but both brothers?" The boy shook his head.

"You could have let me try."

"Come on, is this what you're so mad about? Because your ego got a little bruised because I help? Come on. that's stupid." The boy's tone grew serious. "I'm your friend and that means I'll watch your back, from both jerks and your own ego, and I expect the same from you."

Ash was silent once more before smiling. "You're right, Ramth. It was a silly thing to get angry over."

"Great! Now we've wasted enough time. There's a batch of cakes in the kitchen with our name on it."

"Sarah Darwine was watching, you know."

"Wait, you mean their gorgeous sister? Man, that justifies e

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you've got

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g?"

Ramth nodded, his grip around the large bouquet tightening. "Yeah, I think so..."

Ash grinned. "What's wrong? If I didn't know better, I'd say you'd seem nervous."

The stout youth next to him chuckled loudly. "Aw, lad, yea not gettin' cold feet, are yea?" The Dwarf stuck his hand into one of his enormous pockets and pulled out a large bottle. "Liquid courage?" he offered. "It's ginger cider," he added in response to Ash's raised eyebrow. "I know yea virgin Human tongues can't handle anythin' stronger."

"Hey, I happen to be a coiffure of fine wine, thank you very much," huffed Ramth, sticking his tongue out. "Thhee? It thakes offenths."

"You mean sommelier," Ash stated. "A coiffure is a hairdresser."

"I can do that too!" Ramth declared. "Maybe..."

Ash rolled his eyes to the heavens while the Dwarf grabbed his knees as he laughed. "Ho," he managed to gasp. "I can see it now. Th' great Ramthelore the Fourth, mighty prince of th' hair. Ladies swoon at his every step, their horrid styles vanishin' 'fore their eyes."

"Men will cower at his feet and stand in awe of his mighty brush and comb," Ash added, cracking a wide smile. "Oh, Sir Ramth," he said in a high pitched voice. "Save us from the dreaded dreadlocks of...Dreadlockia."

At this Ramth began to laugh. "Dreadlockia? Is that really the best you could come up with?"

"Dreadlotopia and Dreadlopois were options. Would you have preferred those?"

"Nah, those are just as bad."

"Aye. Stick to th' spell books 'nd leave th' clever wordplay to those with actual wit."

The three shared a long laugh. Neither Ramth nor Ash seemed to mind that they had been the butt of the joke.

"So," Ash said as the laughter began to die down. "Still nervous?"

"Immensely," Ramth answered, despite his giant grin. It slowly disappeared to make room for a much more serious face.

"I'm not sure I should do this..." he mumbled.

"Why? You like her don't you?" said Ash.

"Yeah but...well, she's an aspiring nun and I'm a prince. What if Father doesn't approve? What if the Church kicks her out? I mean, its not like nuns aren't allowed to marry but still...scandals and everything? What if this is all just a mistake? I don't know if that'll ever work out and if it doesn't...what's the point?"

Ash punched Ramth's shoulder lightly. "Hey, none of that. You love her, right?"

"Ah, Ash," the Dwarf began. "Isn't it a little early for that-"

Ramth shook his head. "No, he's right. I can't call this a crush or an infatuation anymore...yeah..." The young prince forced a laugh with a shrug. "I guess I'm in love. I'm a love-struck idiot."

"So what's the problem?" Ash asked. He gave Ramth a quick shove in the back. "You've always been an idiot and now you've got an excuse..."

"What's that suppose to mean?" Ramth demanded. "And stop pushing me!"

"Then get going." Ash pointed to the sky. "Sun'll be down soon and you don't have time for worries."

"But-"

"No buts. No excuses. If you really love her, all that crap you're giving us shouldn't matter. Nothing should matter! Now hurry up and go before people began noticing me shouting!"

Ramth took a deep breath. "That's...the dumbest thing you've ever said, and that's saying a lot." He took another shaky breath. "Thanks, you corny jerk."

Dorian and Ash watched as Ramth

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p ike beckoned Twilight and Pinkie

clos e r and closer and closer still....

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off toward the market, trailing flower petals behind him.

"You've been pickin' up romance novels 'gain?"

"...maybe..."

The Dwarf chuckled. "Still, it worked. I honest didn' think he'd actually confess."

Ash knelt down and picked up one of the stray petals. "You know Ramth as well as I do, Dorian. He's not a coward."

"Didn' say he was. Jus' a bit thickheaded, like the rest of us." Dorian smirked. "Ah, well, birds of a feather, eh?"

"Yeah..."

Ash picked himself up and sighed. He made his way to a nearby bench and plopped himself on. Dorian joined him with some difficult and offered him the bottle.

"I'm not allowed. You know that."

"Yea, but I can see you need a drink, even if it barely qualifies as one." The Dwarf took a quick swing and pushed the bottle into Ash's face. "I won't tell anyone if you won't."

A moment passed before the bottle finally exchanged hands. Ash held the drink in his lap but made no move to bring it to his mouth.

"Y

The tw o mares leaned forward...

...."I have a cr u

s h on Rarity..."

ure you're okay with this?" asked the Dwarf as he produced another bottle from beneath his coat.

"His friendship means more to me than a girl, even if it is Matilda."

"You sound bitter, lad."

"It's the drink. I hate the taste and the smell of ginger. It burns my throat, my nose...my eyes."

Ash rubbed at his eyes furiously. "Damn it," he growled, letting the bottle fall with a clatter. Brown liquid leaked into the cracks in the street. His shoulders shook violently.

Dorian sighed. The Dwarf carefully set the bottle aside and tried to put his arms around the Mage's shoulders. What Dwarves lack in stature they tend to make up in pride but both eluded Doran today as he found that he could barely reach his friend's neck. Embarrassed, he let his arm drop and awkwardly patted Ash's knee.

He offered Ash the second bottle, which he took with shaking hands. Cider spewed out, staining Ash's clothes. Dorian watched regretfully as the precious cider flowed out onto the streets. With nothing to drink and nothing to say, the Dwarf kept patting Ash's knee.

Minutes passed in awkward silence. Occasionally, another person would pass by but one glance at the Dwarf's glare and they would decide that there were better, safer scenes to examine.

XII

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VI n awkward silence...
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...Though I'm pretty sure...she's gonna pick up on your feelings...

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"Did I do the right thing?"

Ash had finally broken the silence, though his voice was barely a hoarse whisper.

Dorian thought for a moment, examining his friend as he pondered. Ash's eyes were hidden beneath a curtain of black of hair and if there had been tears, they had already been wiped and rubbed into oblivion so that not even a streak remained.

With a sigh, the Dwarf stuck his hand into his coat and and pulled out a small tin canister of something stronger. This sort of question was not a question that could be solved quickly, easily, or sober. He took a long draft as Ash waited patiently.

Dorian wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and set the emptied canister down on the bench. "Didja do the right thing? That's what you want to know, yea?"

"Yeah."

"Well, for one, yer a damned hypocrite," the Dwarf said firmly but without malice. "Lemme finish," he interjected as Ash opened his mouth to defend himself. "Yer a hypocrite. That one prep talk you gave Sethy, 'bout bein' in love an' nuthin' matterin', really nice an' sentimental but advice doesn' hold much weight if yah don' follow them words yerself. So, either yer wrong 'bout lettin' Matilda go without a fight or yer advice is wrong...an' I'll give yah a hint...

"Y

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Ash shook his head. "I don't understand. What wasn't I wrong? Was I right about my advice or my choice?"

Dorian tsked. "Dunno. Tha's up tah yah tah fig' out. Either way, yer not wrong n' I'm right. I'll let yah know what I think tho...

"Yer an idiot fer lettin' a girl go like that. A damned idiot. Yer choice weren't the smartest if yea ask me...but yea did it fer a friend an' lemme tell yea, a friend like Ramth ain't something ye'll twice in a lifetime. Like me uncle used tah say, yeah can always mine more diamonds but good luck findin' a good blade."

"...If you're looking for a sword can't you just make a new one?"

"Ah said a good blade!" Dorian roared. "A good one. One that won't bend or break when tested in battle. One that won't rust an' stick tah yer belt while a goblin skewers yea in the gut. One that'll stick tah yea hand even afta yer life an' breath's already beaten out of yea an' continue tah swing tah avenge yer blood, tha blood of its master!"

Dorian was breathing loudly and began to sway. He grabbed the edge of the bench to support himself as he waved away Ash's concerns. "I'm fi-" The Dwarf leaned forward and released the contents of his stomach into the streets.

"Good God!" Ash leaped to his feet and grabbed the Dwarf's arm to support him. "Are you okay?"

"Does it look like Ah'm okay?"

Ash picked up the discarded canister and took a quick sniff. He gagged instantly and nearly joined Dorian in decorating the public grounds. "What's in this stuff?"

"Dunno. Me pappy's own personal recipe. Doesn't let me touch it. First time tryin' it actually. Says he keeps it on reserve fer meeting diplomats an' aristocrats." Dorian gave Ash a weak smile. "Ah can see why."

"We need to get you to a healer." Ash tried to coax the Dwarf onto his back in order to quicken their pace but Dorian would have none of it.

"Never carry a Dwarf. Ah c'n walk jus' fine," he declared proudly before nearly tumbling into a pool of his own vomit had Ash not taken hold of him. "Yah c'n lead me tho', if yah like..."

"Yeah, sure." Ash extended his arm forward and almost immediately regretting as Dorian's weight threatened to tear his arm from the socket. With a groan, he began to lead the Dwarf slowly into the city.

The sun had already begun to set. The nightlife would begin soon and navigating the streets of capital city with the rest of the crowd was always a nightmare. Ash kicked up their speed from a snail's pace to a tortoise's jog. His teeth digger into his lips in frustration as he almost literally dragged Dorian through the city. At least the time it would take to get to the healers at their current speed would give him time to ponder Dorian's words.

As he made his way, Ash pondered. The street lamps were lighting up and he found himself at the bottom of the steps leading the healer's cathedral.

"You know what?"

"Uh?" the Dwarf moaned.

"You're right. I've got no regrets."

Dorian opened an eye. "No regrets?" He muttered sleepily.

"Besides having to hale your heavy ass all the way here?" he replied with a strained grin. "No regrets. After this, we need to find Ramth and congratulate him. I'm sure Ramth should have finished

"...should already be there b

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now..."

"Sorry, sorry," Ash apologized, doubling over as he fought to recover his breath. "I couldn't decide between the fifty-fourth addition Almanac of Wild Botany or the twenty-second Encyclopedia of Fascinating Flora."

"Are...are you serious?" Ramth asked in amazement.

"There are over a thousand species of useful herbs and poisons plants out there. I'm not going to memorize every single one of them and their features." Ash shrugged. "You're welcomed to try."

"Fine, fine, whatever." Ramth shifted the sack he held to his other shoulder. "Matilda got tired of waiting for you and went on ahead. We agreed to meet at the city gates with the garrison but should probably get a move on. She's waited long enough."

"Right." Ash followed suit, groaning as his large bulky bag threatened to crush his back. He struggled to keep pace with the prince as the trails of his robes swirled around his ankles and the end of his staff. Not for the first time, Ash considered the practicality of Mage attire.

"Which did you end up choosing anyways?"

"Well, the Almanac is more up to date but the Encyclopedia is indefinitely more thorough. So naturally, I ended up taking both."

"Explains a bit," said Ramth with a roll of his eyes. "So, what do you make of it?"

"Make of what?"

"You know." Ramth gestured in the air with a wave of his hand. "This whole situation, the prophesy...all that?"

Ash sighed. "You mean how the fate of the entire world rests on us finding a series of mythological artifacts, artifacts that we know absolute nothing about while the dead begins walking the earth to feast on the living and demons and monsters burn our homes to ash?" He sighed again. "I'm a nervous wreck and feeling kind of pressured. How else should I feel?"

"I dunno." Ramth shrugged. "Excited? I mean, c'mon, a real adventure, like the kind we've always talked about with Dorian. This is an opportunity of a lifetime!"

"Yeah," Ash scoffed, "given we survive."

"Don't be such a pessimist. Or are you being cynically?"

"It's being realistic." Ash gave his friend a cold hard look. "This isn't some sort of happy-go-lucky fun-time trip around the mulberry bush. There's...well everything's at stake really so pardon me if I'm feeling a bit pressured at the moment."

"Yeah, I guess...but we're finally get to see the mines Dorian always tells us about. Not to mention Elves. Elves! No Human's been able to see one in years, let only actually being able to take a step in the Fey Forests. Do you think the rumors are true? That the trees actually sing when the sun rises? Or that every Elf is at least a century old but never looks any older than a couple of decades? Or how..."

Ash rolled his eyes as Ramth considered story after story. He couldn't be annoyed at his friend however, not really. The sound of his voice trailing off onto some new tangent was comforting and familiar and for the moment Ash was at peace. For the moment Ash had forgotten about the gravity behind their quest. For the moment, it was nothing more than a little road-trip, a little adventure.

Even if it was only for the moment, it was nice. Alas, as the two approached the gates that served both as the entrance and the exit of the capital, the pressure fell upon the Mage once more. The armed guards served as a reminder, though they would accompany them along with the Archmage and the king only as far as the Dwarven capital for the summit of the recently established Alliance. Then, it would just be him, Ramth, Matilda and Dorian and two Elves he didn't even know.
Another long sigh. Ash turned his head toward the center of town. The cathedral's towers stared back. Would this be the last time he would see them? He never did thank Sister Madilene...

Something gripped his arm. Ash turned and saw that Ramth had gotten hold of him. The prince gave him a cheery smile.

"Don't worry about it. We'll be back before you know." Ramth released Ash's arm and gave him a light punch in the shoulder. "Now if you excuse me, I'm going to see if I can convince Matilda to give be a kiss in front of all these people."

At this Ash grinned as well. "What, not afraid of the possible scandals?"

Ramth returned the grin. "Nope."

Ash shook his head as Ramth made his way toward the cleric with her head bowed in prayer. Even beneath the standard headdress, Ash could make out Matilda's lovely blond hair. Another sigh escaped him. Ash shook his head again and turned back to the towers.

The Mage nodded. Yes, Ramth was right. He would see these towers again. He would sit in the Green Dragon tavern

again and listen to the bards play. Perhaps one day, songs of their feats would be song.

Yes, e

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...right?

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We're friends ** **

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* ** * aren't we?

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"...do you understand, Twilight Sparkle?"