Throne of Dagoth

Epic Fantasy / 4300 words

PREFACE: It’s been a while since we’ve heard of Thimmin and Kelle, the two young apprentice thieves, so I thought it was time we checked up on them. Looks like they’re getting dragged into yet another impossible mission…

The room was dark and dusty, and stunk of stale air. Few people ever came here, as few had an interest in genealogy and dull lineage records. But ever since she had uncovered the truth about her origins, Kelle had craved more information about her family. She had made her peace with the fact that they had been despicable human beings, but she still needed to understand why they had abandoned her. Being despicable was not enough of an excuse, not for a noble and wealthy family like the Nors Valk.

The most recent books said nothing of them, as if they had never existed, and so she’d had to dig deeper—which had led her into this forsaken pit.

Wrinkling her nose, she lit the torches that lined the walls and waited a few seconds, then contemplated the hundreds of dusty shelves that awaited her. It looked like no one ever came here, not even to clean. She even spotted cobwebs in many corners and between some books.

“Well,” she mumbled to herself, “a few tiny spiders never hurt anyone.”

She walked through the aisles, reading the spines until she found the volume she was looking for. This one dated from before the fall of the Nors and, according to the librarians, would reveal the family’s full lineage.

Kelle took the book to the nearest table, wiped off the dust with one hand, and settled in a chair.

It was dreadful reading—some of the most boring she’d ever come across—and she found herself dozing off a couple of times. She chided herself, slapped her face twice, and tried to focus.

She finally found an entire chapter devoted to her family and her interest picked up. After reading all ten pages, she grimaced. While it did reveal some things—such as how two kings had come out of the Nors Valk, including the legendary Varnoth—she found nothing in there that could explain why they had abandoned her.

I don’t know why I thought I’d find something useful here. This is ridiculous.

Kelle slammed the book shut, lifting a cloud of dust. She rose to her feet, put it back on its shelf, turned the torches off, and made her way back up to the library.

***

The man was tall, with slick white hair and piercing green eyes. Despite the hair, he seemed young—perhaps in his early thirties. He wore the purple robe of his office, though Kelle only caught a glimpse of it as it was hidden beneath a black cloak.

Safran Dras stood near the door as Thimmin and Kelle stepped in. There was another one there as well, whom they had seen before and knew to be one of the Guild’s master thieves, Haedi Vorash.

The woman looked at each of them in turn.

“Our friend here has made a very unusual request, which we have decided to grant because of his position. You are in the presence of Jadan Gorthell of the Sidh. This is highly confidential information and you are not to reveal his identity to anyone outside this room, nor any of the things he is about to say. You are bound by your oath and by the Ways of Yiis. Is this understood?”

The three thieves nodded.

“Very well. I shall now leave, as Gorthell will only explain the mission to those who will do said mission. That is you.”

“How can you choose the right people without knowing what the mission is?” asked a startled Thimmin.

Safran quirked a brow, but before she could answer Gorthell chuckled.

“Syrus was right. You have quite the inquisitive mind, don’t you? I made the selection myself, if you must know.”

“That was one of the concessions we agreed to,” conceded the head thief. Her eyes hardened as she looked at the two children. “Do not fail us.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and left.

“Hard woman,” muttered the Sidh.

“She has to be, given her position,” remarked Vorash.

“I suppose so. Well. Now that it’s just us, I suppose I should explain what I expect of you.” He glanced at the boy, who still wore a confused expression, and sighed. “I’m guessing my answer was not sufficient to allay your curiosity.”

“You shouldn’t worry about that,” said the master thief. “They are still apprentices, not fully versed in our Ways. It is not our place to question.”

“Perhaps. And yet, there can be value in curiosity. After all, without curiosity, this city would not exist.”

It was Vorash’s turn to look confused.

“I don’t understand...”

Gorthell grinned, pointing a finger at the other man. “See? Curiosity. There it is! Well, a floating city may seem natural to us who live here, especially for those who were born here—as I suspect all four of us were. But it’s not as natural as you may think. It is, in fact, quite unlikely. And there are only very few floating cities in the world. How do you think something like this could exist? It did not just pop up out of nowhere. It was built. By people who wondered whether it could be done. In other words, people motivated by curiosity. It can be a powerful fuel in some circumstances.” He looked back at the children. “And that is why I chose you. Vorash made the most sense for this mission, but I knew he’d need assistants, so I asked Syrus who were the most inquisitive among his new recruits. And he instantly named the two of you. Thimmin and Kelle. It is a peculiar thing, truly. He seemed both endeared and annoyed when he mentioned you.”

“And so, this mission?”

The Sidh turned an amused look toward the master thief.

“More curiosity from you? I’m shocked! Very well.” He motioned toward the table at the center of the room. “Let us sit, as this may take some time to explain.”

They settled down and waited.

Gorthell drummed his fingers against the table, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“As you know, the king is a figurehead. We still need him because only he knows the secrets that keep Salamandris in the air. But so long as he is content with his position and does not overstep, the Sidh are content as well. However, some alarming news has reached our ears. Someone close to our dear liege has discovered ancient spells woven into the king’s throne. Dangerous spells. That could tip the balance in his favor.”

When the room went quiet, Thimmin cleared his throat and felt all eyes turn to him. His face went red as he spoke.

“I, uh, you mean he could use those to take power?”

“It is unclear what the spells are exactly or how he could use them—or, to be fair, if he even could at all. The king is not technically a wizard, after all. But it is a risk we cannot overlook.”

“And you expect us to do what, exactly?” asked Vorash. “Because if you want those spells stolen, you’ve got the wrong guy.”

“No. Nothing like that. It is an option we considered but eventually dismissed. Missing spells could be thought of as a fluke. They are ancient, after all, and may fade on their own. What we need is to send a clear message. The king must understand it is not some random happenstance. So. What we want you to do is to steal the throne itself.”

Vorash blinked. “Aren’t there guards all over the place?”

The Sidh nodded.

“It must be heavy, too,” mused Kelle.

Gorthell nodded again.

“I can see why you picked me,” said the master thief, “but this is still quite a challenge.”

“The pay will reflect that.”

“I’m sure. But—”

“Do you think you will fail?”

Vorash fell quiet as he pondered the question.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. “Maybe.”

The Sidh grinned. “This is another reason I picked you. You are known to give honest answers. And I thank you for that. Look, I understand this is a particularly difficult mission, but I believe you are up for the task. Give it your best shot.”

“Maybe we can switch it for another throne,” said Kelle.

“That would defeat the purpose. It’d be like removing the spells, Dagoth could think they just faded away.”

“Unless the throne looked completely different.”

Gorthell pondered this for a moment, then shook his head.

“It would take too long to build something like that. We need to act fast because we don’t know how long it’ll be before the king makes his move.”

“Assuming he does,” muttered Vorash.

“Assuming that, yes.”

“What if we do fail?” asked Thimmin.

“Then we kill you all,” Gorthell said with a straight face.

When the children blanched, he laughed.

“I’m joking. The main point here is to send a message. If you can’t steal the throne, so be it, but then I’ll count on you to find some other way to send that message and make it clear as day.” Noticing the dubious expressions on the three thieves, he leaned back in his chair. “Curiosity is a sign of intelligence. All of the world’s greatest discoveries were made because someone wondered if they could be made. Spells exist because magicians experimented with the unknown until they understood and mastered those energies. You’ll think of something.”

Vorash made a face. “So you expect the kids to come up with an idea and me to do the heavy lifting? I’m supposed to be leading this operation, may I remind you?”

The Sidh smiled. “Don’t underestimate yourself. You have your fair share of curiosity. I think you’ll make a good team—I wouldn’t have asked for you otherwise. Now, if you don’t have any further questions, I should get back to my duties.”

They had none, and the two orphans watched quietly as the man covered his head with a hood and stepped out of the room.

***

The Guild owned the most detailed maps of the city. They showed tunnels and secret passages that no one else knew existed. Members had access to long-forgotten blueprints and many other confidential documents. How these came into their possession was unknown, though some suspected Yiis herself had stolen them—or perhaps had received them as a gift or as payment for services rendered. Needless to say, they were invaluable material for the thieves—especially on missions, such as this one, that required access to highly guarded buildings.

“We know how to get into the palace,” Kelle had commented as they’d studied the maps, “but that doesn’t solve our main issue. How do we get the throne out?”

Vorash had grunted, making a dismissive gesture. “We’ll figure something out.”

The orphans hated these types of operations. They liked to have everything figured out beforehand. Going in blind was a recipe for disaster, but it wasn’t their call to make.

They now traveled through dark and musty corridors, lighting their way with torches. The master thief led the way, with the children a few steps behind.

“This place gives me the creeps,” muttered Thimmin.

The girl threw him an amused glance.

“Really? I didn’t think anything scared you.”

“I’m not scared,” he said defensively. “It’s just...” He wrinkled his nose in distaste. “I dunno. It’s like the dead live here or something.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. If they’re dead, they can’t live.”

“That’s not what the stories say.”

“They’re just myths. And none mention these tunnels, anyway.”

Thimmin looked around and grimaced.

“This place must date back to at least old King Varnoth.”

When Kelle did not respond, he glanced at her and saw a troubled look on her face.

“What’s wrong?”

She sighed. “Varnoth was a Nors.”

“Wait! You mean you have royal blood?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

The boy made wild gestures with his hands. “But that’s what it means!”

She shrugged. “It don’t mean nothing. Even less after what they did.”

“Abandoning you?”

“No, stupid, I mean using black magic.”

“Well, the king still spared him, didn’t he? So he at least thought otherwise.”

They heard a grunt from ahead of them.

“Would you two shut up already?” Vorash’s voice echoed against the rock walls. “We’re getting closer to the palace. Should see the entrance any moment now.”

They fell quiet for a moment, but then Thimmin leaned to whisper in her ear.

“Are you related to Dagoth?”

“What? No, of course not! Varnoth was the last Nors to hold the throne. He was a true king, too, not a puppet like Dagoth.”

The master thief threw them a glare, and she lowered her voice.

“Sorry.”

“We’re here.” Vorash pointed at a metal door as he rummaged with his other hand in a knapsack that hung from his shoulder. “Ah, there it is!” He pulled out a set of tools and proceeded to pick the lock.

Once the deed was done, he pushed the door and it creaked open.

***

Knowing the palace would be crowded with guards, all three thieves wore the most precious treasure the Guild possessed: rings of invisibility. It owned twelve in all, and these were only used when no other means were available.

The rings were not perfect, however. One could hide its wearer from prying eyes, but it did not muffle the sound of their steps or dampen the movement of air when they moved. So the thieves had to tiptoe through the halls, holding their breaths, making sure not to get too close to a guard as they made their way to the throne room.

All the while, Thimmin was sweating, worrying about how in Yiis’ name they would ever get out of here—let alone with the throne! It was insane. It just couldn’t be done. They’d get caught and hung. The Sidh would never help them, they couldn’t admit to hiring people to steal the damn thing. The thieves were on their own, and they knew it.

Gorthell had sent them on a suicide mission, plain and simple.

It baffled the boy’s mind that Vorash had agreed to do this mission. What had gone through the man’s head? Or did he truly think he could pull this off? He glanced where he thought the master thief must be, but of course there was nothing there to see.

Could he have a plan he didn’t share with us?

It was the one thought that gave him hope. Maybe this wouldn’t all be in vain.

They all knew the way they needed to take to reach their destination, so it didn’t matter that they couldn’t see each other, though Thimmin found the experience disconcerting.

When he reached the throne room, he stepped behind the nearest statue and reached out to his right. It was their rally point, and he hoped he wasn’t the first to reach it. He hated the thought of being here alone.

He felt another hand grab his and a sense of peace washed over him. He’d held this one so often he could tell it was Kelle. She squeezed his hand, as if finding comfort in his presence as well, then pressed against him. He felt her breath against his ear as she whispered.

“There are too many of them! We can never do this...”

With a sudden pang, he realized he hadn’t even looked at the room. He’d been so anxious and focused on reaching the statue that he hadn’t paid attention to anything else.

He turned his gaze toward the throne. Though the seat itself was empty, there were two guards posted on every corner, plus a few others who made rounds every few minutes. There were always at least ten of them in the room, many of them looking straight toward the throne.

“It can’t be done,” he muttered.

“You’re both wrong,” said Vorash’s voice from behind them.

He jumped at the voice, his heart beating fast.

“Look at them!” he almost shouted, but caught himself in time. “There are too many. How are we supposed to take the throne from under their nose without them seeing anything?”

“And,” added Kelle, “even assuming we could do that, how would we carry the thing? I know your specialty is heavy items, but this is—”

“—challenging,” completed the master thief. “Yes. I know. Still, there is a solution to every problem.”

Thimmin wanted to laugh, but held back.

“I’ve given it a lot of thought,” their leader continued in a whisper. “Look at the throne. It’s made of wood. All in one piece. Can’t be dismantled—not that we’d be able to do that without drawing attention. But wood can burn, right?”

“The Sidh asked us to steal it,” remarked Kelle, “not to turn it into ashes.”

“True. But Gorthell stressed it was more important to send a message. I’d say the throne going up in smoke would be a pretty strong message.”

Thimmin heard the disapproval in his friend’s voice and could easily picture the frown on her face.

“We’re thieves, not pyromaniacs!”

“Besides,” he cut in, “it wouldn’t work. The guards would see the flames and put them out right away.”

“If you two have a better idea, now’s the time to voice it.”

The orphans remained quiet.

“Right. So, fire it is. As for the guards putting it out, there are ways around that.” The master thief snickered. “These won’t be normal flames.”

“You’re going to use magic?”

“I’m no spellcaster, but I do have a few tricks up my sleeve. You can’t see it right now, but I own a ring with a few interesting properties. One of them is to summon fire from the realm of demons. It can only be extinguished at the source—meaning they’d have to travel to another plane to put this one out.”

“What about the spells on the throne?” asked Kelle. “Might they not interfere?”

There was silence for a moment.

“I don’t know,” Vorash finally admitted. “Maybe. But I don’t think so. This type of fire can burn through anything, even magic. It’s more likely to destroy those spells. Some might trigger when they blow, however.”

“What? Are you insane?”

“Keep your voice down!”

Thimmin glanced at the guards, but none had moved.

“We could be setting the whole palace on fire, maybe the city itself. It’s not worth it.”

“For what the Sidh are paying us, I disagree. Now, unless you’ve come up with something, I suggest you stop arguing and do as you’re told.”

“And what do you expect us to do?” asked the boy. “Surely, you don’t need us to use that ring of yours?”

“I need to be within five feet of the target. So you two are going to watch my back. If any of the guards move, distract them.”

“How?”

“From what Gorthell said, you should be smart enough to think of something. Now enough talk. It’s time to make my move. Wait here.”

The orphans felt a brush of air as the master thief moved, headed straight for the throne.

“He’s gonna get us all killed,” muttered Kelle.

***

There was something in the air that made her uncomfortable. She shifted in place and glanced nervously at the guards. They hadn’t moved, though some were looking around with a frown. Or was she imagining that? They were too far to see their expressions, weren’t they?

Her eyes went back to the throne.

It was the smell of smoke, she suddenly realized. That’s what was troubling her. Though she still couldn’t see any flames. It wouldn’t take much longer, she figured.

“What’s taking so long?”

Kelle jumped at the words. She was so on edge she had forgotten about Thimmin standing next to her. His being invisible did not help either.

“I’m in no hurry to see the place go up in flames,” she muttered.

“It might not get to that.”

She hoped he was right, but she had a bad feeling about this.

That smell wasn’t right. Yes, it was smoke, without a doubt, but there was something about it... Well, it came from a different plane, so that likely accounted for the difference. Didn’t make her feel any better, though.

A fire that can’t be stopped... What could possibly go wrong?

She groaned.

“Are you alright?” asked Thimmin, and she could hear the worry in his voice.

“I’m fine,” she said with a sigh. “I just don’t like this. It doesn’t feel right.”

Even as the words came out of her, there was a loud bang and flames leaped up from the throne, scorching the ceiling some ten feet above.

Shouts echoed through the room as the guards started running around, trying to contain the fire. People quickly came carrying buckets of water, but it did nothing.

Worse, the flames were burning everything. It did not stop with the wooden seat, engulfing rock and metal just as easily. Some of the guards got caught in the flames and screamed as their bodies were consumed.

“No!” Kelle yelled as she ran toward the throne.

She did not think, it was pure instinct. An impulsive reaction spawned by horror and despair.

As she ran, she slipped, her right hand held out.

“Kelle!” she heard Thimmin’s voice through the chaos of screams and flames.

Heat engulfed her, and she closed her eyes.

“I don’t want to die like this”, she said with a sob, realizing those would likely be her last words.

After a few seconds, she noticed the heat was only in her hand, though it seemed to spread down her arm now, but it did not burn. As it spread, it became less intense.

She opened her eyes, blinked.

I’m still alive.

Kelle placed her hands against the floor and pushed herself up.

She looked around.

The fire was gone.

And so was the throne—all that was left of it were charred pieces of wood.

The guards had stopped running and had gathered nearby, staring at the damage with confused looks.

As she considered the scene, she spotted Vorash sprawled among the bodies, his body scorched. She slid quietly to him and shook the master thief, but he did not move. After checking for a breath or a pulse, she headed back to the statue.

“Thimmin? You still there?”

“Kelle! I was so scared! I thought you were dead!”

She grabbed and hugged him.

“I’m alright. We need to go.”

“What about Vorash?”

“He’s dead. Fire caught him. He was too close. Come on.”

Neither of them wanted to be separated, so they held hands as they made their way back to the underground tunnels.

***

They never saw Jadan Gorthell again, but the Sidh paid the Guild a substantial bonus as compensation for the loss of the master thief.

Life in Salamandris continued as before. There was no talk of the throne among the people—not even a whisper. It was as if none of it had happened. Had they not been there to witness the event, the orphans would have never known about it. Even the other thieves had no idea. All they knew was that Vorash had given his life to complete a mission. Safran Dras asked no questions, nor did anyone else.

“It doesn’t bother you?” asked Kelle.

Thimmin stared into the distance. At this height, they could see clouds drifting under their dangling feet. Here and there, birds flew in formation, heading for warmer climates.

“What do you mean?”

The girl clicked her tongue. “Gorthell wanted us because we are curious. But the others? Nothing. It’s as if they don’t even wonder what happened. That can’t be right, can it?”

“We’re not supposed to ask questions.”

“I know that. We just do the job.” She groaned as she tossed some pebbles out.

“You shouldn’t do that,” said the boy. “If there’s someone down there when they reach the ground, it could kill them.”

Kelle’s eyes widened. “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“And to answer your question, yes, of course, it bothers me. But we’re only apprentices. We’re in no position to change anything.”

She sighed. “I don’t think Yiis would recognize the Guild if she saw it today.”

“You think she’d disapprove?”

“Of course she would! You don’t start something like this if you’re not a little curious about...” She trailed off, frowning.

“About what?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “The world, I suppose. Maybe that’s why she left. To explore down there.”

She pointed at snow-peaked mountains in the distance.

“That’d have nothing to do with the Guild, though.”

“Well, maybe she was curious to see what people had in their homes or in their purses.”

Thimmin chuckled. “You might be on to something.” He took on a more serious expression as he glanced at her. “Hey, Kelle, can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“What happened that day in the throne room?”

“How do you mean?”

“I couldn’t see anything, with us being invisible. All I know is that you ran off shouting. I was too scared to move. And then everything just... changed. How did the fire stop?”

She looked back at the drifting clouds, remaining quiet for a long time.

“I don’t know,” she finally muttered. “I... I wanted it to stop, and it just did. But that doesn’t make any sense, does it?”

“I wanted it to stop too.” He straightened and poked her. “Hey, I bet all those guards wanted it to stop as well! Maybe if enough people want the same thing, it ends up happening?”

Kelle blinked. “I don’t know, Thim. Maybe. I don’t know.”

They fell quiet as they watched the birds fly by.

If you like my writing, please consider buying a copy of my novel, upgrading to a paid subscription, or making a Paypal or Ko-fi donation. As an independent author, any of these would help a lot!

Enjoy my writing and want more Thimmin & Kelle stories? Check out these two:

• Salamandra Sun (where we first meet the two orphan thieves)

• Thief of Souls (the Guild is hired to steal a man’s soul, imagine that!)

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Thank you!

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Text (c) 2025 by Alex S. Garcia.

Header: royalty-free stock images, edited by me.

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