Alex put his finger to Nathan's lips, shushing him

"Be quiet Nathan! There's something out there, I know it! Now stay behind me, I'll keep watch!" The boys had woken up after a sudden flash of lightning had stirred them up in the middle of the night. It didn't help that Alex thought it'd be a great idea to watch a scary movie before their bedtime.

"I think I see something..." Alex whispered as he wrapped his arm around Nathan's hip, bringing him closer to his body. "I'm right here, don't get scared."

Nathan could sense the obvious terror that gripped his friend; from his body language, the way his voice shuddered, to the sweat that began to stain his tank top. But Alex's bravery and sense of adventure outmatched his need for safety and comfort, "Curiosity killed the cat," Nathan's mom once told him.

The scared juvenile was still shivering with anxiety, trying to catch each breath. Without hesitation or any forethought, Nathan reached his hand underneath Alex's tank top, feeling his heartbeat through his friend's chest. "It's okay, Alex, it’s just a storm. You probably just had another nightmare."

Feeling Alex's worries still present, Nathan began to gently stroke Alex's chest, moving his hand in small circles, letting his fingers search every familiar part of his friend's nascent torso; starting with his smooth, budding chest down to the soft, pillow-like skin that enveloped his friend's belly. Nathan was doing everything he could to find that spot, that touch that "feels good," as Alex would say when they were in bed together before falling asleep.

"You feeling better now, Alex?"

"Yeah... I just feel embarrassed. I mean, we're fifth graders now! We're basically grown-ups!"

"Don't feel that way," Nathan reassured him, still caressing Alex's body. Alex was feeling relaxed now, breathing out a sigh of relief, his stomach expanding with a large puff of air. "Phew, I'm all sweaty!" he said, peeling off his tank top, revealing his naked chest glistening in the light from all the excitement that had just happened.

"Nathan, can you-"

"Only if you promise to sleep this time," Nathan replied with a grin.

Although Alex was a brave warrior in spirit, in reality he was like any other boy. Scared, timid, and in need of comfort. And it was during these sleepovers when Nathan would invite Alex over to his house that he got to know everything about his best friend. He knew Alex's favorite movies, his habits and routines, and his secrets. His favorite hideout became their new secret place, and he knew what Alex was thinking just by looking in his eyes. Alex likewise noticed similar details; how Nathan covered his eyes with his hair whenever he was scared, how he sorted his books in chronological order, how modest and shy he was in public compared to how playful and vulnerable he was when it was just the two of them.

The boys were back in bed now, and although the eeriness of Nathan's room at night (coupled with the thrill of a scary movie) was a partial cause for Alex's discomfort, the welcoming embrace Nathan offered - the invitation he always gave with his exposed body, was more than enough to help him relax. What started as Nathan's way to comfort his best friend after a nightmare in the first grade, became a nighttime routine for the two of them at almost every sleepover, with both boys letting their guard down, bearing their thoughts, feelings, and dreams in each other's skin.

"Promise you won't tell anyone," Alex whispered, burying his head into Nathan's chest.

"I was scared, too. I promise I won't say anything."

--

This was a very short story I wrote as a description for this drawing I had finished back in October of last year. Sometimes I'll come up with the drawing first and then the short story, other times I'll do the reverse. Unfortunately my deviantART account was banned and I think it might have to do with this image. The story itself very well could be expanded with additional drawings, but I want to improve my skills both in writing and drawing/painting. As for the inspiration behind the story, the story and image are about the importance of touch and physical affection in friendships, especially as forms of nonverbal communication that demonstrate trust, loyalty, and love. I want to make it known that the bond these boys share is so deep and so loving, that they share every part of themselves with each other. Personal space is non-existent between them, they are "attached at the hip" as it were. Whether I'll continue this story or do anything else with Nathan and Alex, I don't know! Otherwise I'd love to hear what you guys think!

I am curious.

Archive of Niklascomics.de

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Chapter One
The Key and the Stone

Smedley was mixing some very interesting venoms when the door to his laboratory creaked open.

“Smedley?” a small voice asked, “I am in need of a potion, I think.”

The wizard turned to face his visitor. “Prince Niklas! What can I brew for you?”

The boy looked concerned. “I have not been sleeping well for several nights. I have been having the same dream.”

The young boy wandered into the lab, absently touching the bottles and jars that filled Smedley’s many tables, “In the dream…I’m lost in a fog, it grows thicker and thicker until I can’t see or even move. Then, a hand reaches through the fog to help lead me out, but for some reason I am afraid to take it. I wake up startled each time.”

The young prince faced the old wizard with pleading eyes. “Please, can you give me a drought that will give me pleasant dreams? Or even no dreams at all would be welcome.”

The wizard smiled. “Ah lad, I know these symbols. Soon you are to be king, and your sleeping mind has realized this. Manhood is upon you, lad. That is what stalks you in your dreams. No potion will cure that.”

The boy sighed. Niklas was often reminded these days by his mother, his chambermaid, his food taster--the entire castle-- of the duties that would soon fall upon him. But these dreams…? There was more to them than just his misgivings, he knew it.

“And there is another thing, Smedley. In my dream I am sometimes holding that odd key you once gave me. What does that mean to you?”

Smedley paused and stroked his beard. “That crystal key, you say?”

Niklas waited as the wizard affected a serious tone. “That key you would have never remembered again had you not seen it in now your dreams. In the morning you must journey to the mountains and bring it to Randlyn the Mage. He will know what it is for.”

Prince Niklas was startled. He certainly had not expected that his dreams could have meant this much! “Smedley, what is this about?”

“Young Prince, your kingship is in peril!” Smedley said gravely. “Go to sleep now. You must depart at first light.”

Smedley’s stare pushed the boy out the door with no more questions. Alone, the wizard looked down at his hands and sighed. Yes, Prince Niklas would leave tomorrow.

And afterwards, he would never see him again.

…

That night, again the dream of fog. In his dream Prince Niklas held the key tight to his chest. As always, a hand reached out to him from the mist, but this time it only beckoned. Niklas walked forward, not afraid now but curious. Through the fog he saw a keyhole, just a keyhole attached to nothing but air. The boy awoke clear-headed and eager.

The prince dressed, and then took down from a shelf the box that held his strange key, a gift from Smedley when he had turned five. The key was narrow and made of violet crystal. The cross section of its grooved shaft made a star, and the tip was wickedly sharp. Niklas now remembered: he had pricked his finger pressing it against that tip. A tiny, star-shaped scar remained. Smedley was right: Niklas had not thought of the key once since that time.

Prince Niklas departed the castle on his horse without even arousing the stable hands. By noon he had passed the borders of Wineland and was en route to the Mountains of Oblivion. Hours later he and his horse had made their way halfway up a treacherous path to where Niklas knew Randlyn the Mage ought to be, but then the path narrowed. Niklas tied his mount to a tree and went the remainder of the way on foot.

Past many sentinel rocks that nearly made the trail unpassable, Prince Niklas finally reached the hidden plateau that led to the Cave of Glass where mysterious crystals grew and glowed. Here was the source of Randlyn’s power, and therefore, where he expected Randlyn to appear if he disturbed the space.

“Randlyn Darkwolf!” Prince Niklas cried out, “Show yourself!” Niklas touched one of the many crystals that grew from the rock near the mouth of the cave, knowing that Randlyn could feel the presence of any intruder.

An hour passed, and then the sound of feet dashing across stone disturbed Niklas, who had been sitting and contemplating the strange turn of events in his life. When he turned, he saw a large wolf, dark as shadow, but with eyes that flickered like blue flame.

Niklas smiled. “Randlyn! Where were you for so long?”

The wolf now stood on its hind legs, its forelimbs straightening, toes becoming fingers. A shroud of dark wind wrapped around the creature and then blew away. Randlyn the Mage stood before Niklas now, a long-haired boy barely older than Niklas, naked but for a wolf pelt draped over his head and shoulders. Yet the boy’s eyes burned blue just as the wolf’s had.

“I was hunting and killing rabbits in the forest below,” Randlyn said as he circled Niklas, “And I was having a good time of it before someone trespassed in my sanctum.”

Randlyn sounded unexpectedly cross. Niklas decided to let it pass. “Wineland might be expanding. I thought this place might make for a nice tennis court!”

Randlyn crossed his arms. “You are here on a serious matter, I can feel it, even if you cannot. What brings you, Prince Niklas?”

Niklas dropped his humor. He told Randlyn about his dreams and showed him the key.

“So it is this.” Randlyn said after a moment of thought. “Wait here”

Randlyn entered the cave, Niklas could barely conceive how the boy’s bare flesh would not be pierced a hundred times by the sharp crystals that grew in all directions. But minutes later the mage returned, unscratched.

In each hand Randlyn held an opened geode, their surfaces smooth and flat, halos of color spreading from the jagged centers.

Randlyn stood before Niklas, and the stone beneath his feet rose, lifting him a foot off the ground, fresh crystals sprouting around the short pedestal.

“Pick one of these stones. They are your destiny.”

Niklas shook his head, baffled. “What… what do you mean? Randlyn, why are you being so dire?”

Now as Randlyn spoke, his voice seemed to come from all around Niklas, from the rocks and the clouds. “Your kingdom is imperiled. It is imperiled because it may soon be ruled by a cowardly king!”

Prince Niklas felt a lump in his throat, suddenly feeling more naked than Randlyn. It was as if his secret fears about ruling were known everywhere.

“No”, said Randlyn “Your most dangerous fears are those not even known to you!”

Niklas gasped! Had the mage read his mind?

“These stones are your destiny. Both lead to a throne, both lead to your kingdom’s doom, but only one leads the way out of it. Choose.”

Niklas could tell there would be no further explanation, and he now knew that Smedley had expected him to be put to this test.

The geode in Randlyn’s right hand was pear-shaped, the milky ribbons of color spreading like a butterfly’s wings. At the center of the stone, pink crystals formed a vertical split.

In his left hand, the rock was round, rose colored at the edges turning bright red at the center, where a small cavity lay.

Niklas extended his hand, first unclear, then sure that he was meant to pick the stone in Randlyn’s right hand. Sure… that he was meant to.

But not sure that he wished to.

Feeling the shame of Randlyn’s charge of cowardice, Niklas grabbed the stone from the mage’s left hand before he could second-guess himself. He stared at it, his face reflecting in the polished surface. He poked the hole in its center curiously with his scarred fingertip. This was the right stone.

But wait… what was that about his kingdom being doomed?

Niklas looked up. “Randlyn, I…”

He was alone.

The prince stood and called for the mage but heard nothing except the wind.

Niklas stared at the stone, touched it and turned it. What did it mean?

The boy turned to go back the way he had come, but then a thought occurred. He looked again at the stone, the shape of the small cavity. Star shaped.

Niklas withdrew his key and placed the tip of it in the center of the stone. A moment or two of twisting, and then… yes! With some resistance, the key slipped neatly in-between the crystals.

The prince turned the key, and at first a clicking sound made him fear he had snapped it. Instead, the stone split, the surface flipping up like a lid, held to the other half by some cleverly disguised hinge.

Niklas was amazed at what he saw. On the bottom half of the exposed surface, the natural patterns of the geode formed an unmistakable image of a face, a sleeping boy. Niklas thought it must be a painting, but the image was undeniably part of the rock.

On the top portion, the underside of the “lid”, another image, not at all like the one below. Niklas didn’t know who the boy was, but he recognized this likeness. Its twin rose above the horizon, visible even from where Niklas stood now.

“The White Spire,” Niklas whispered.

(To be continued!)