Blinking furiously against the tears, I turn to Elias and simply say, “Thank you.”
He grunts, returning somewhat to his characteristic gruffness. “Don’t mention it.”
Taking a deep breath, I stand up and remove the knife I had fashioned from the demon quill, bending down and slipping the makeshift blade into a sleeve in my boot. Then, I return the hatchet to its proper place on my belt, sliding the handle into the loop before sitting back down.
When next I look upon Elias, I find that any trace amount of animosity I had felt for the man is now gone, replaced with the same warm familiarity I feel with my closest friends: Talon and Zara. I can tell that he feels it, too. The tension that sat in his shoulders is no longer there, his hard face softening into a kind of fatherly expression.
“You’ll need that, you know,” he says after a moment, glancing back at the statue of Luca Dhar. “You of all people know how dangerous the wastes can be.”
“What do you mean?”
His eyes flick back toward me, the corner of his mouth tugging up once more. “I know that you’re going with her.”
I blow out a breath and lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”
“A blind man could see that you love her, lad,” he says with a small chuckle. “Besides, she’ll need you out there watching her back. I’ll take any warrior I can get at this point, especially one as skilled as you, but your place is with her. Not here in Tarsys.”
I nod, though I do not immediately reply. My thoughts turn to the task ahead, to what I know that we must do.
Honestly, I’d rather die in my homeland than in some desert, surrounded by enemy troops.
“Do you think there is hope, Elias?” I ask suddenly, my heart feeling heavy. “Do you honestly think that we can win this war, with the might of the R’Laar arrayed against us?”
He considers this for a moment before finally nodding. “I do,” he replies, his voice a deep rumble. “There is always hope, Owyn, even in the direst of circumstances. People are capable of extraordinary feats of courage, and in my years as a ranger, I’ve learned that a creature is most dangerous when it is backed into a corner. With the kingdom united, and with the wisdom of the mages, I believe there is a chance – even if it is a rather slim one. In the end, isn’t that worth fighting for?”
“I suppose so,” I respond, not sounding very convinced.
He regards me quietly, his face an unreadable mask, before abruptly getting to his feet and resting his hand on the handle of his belt knife. "Our time is short, I fear," he says stiffly. "No time for idling. There is still so much to do."
I get to my feet as well, standing nearly as tall as him before the statue of the great general of the Legion of Light.
As I turn to leave, though, Elias stops me, his stormy eyes peering into my own. "There is one last thing, Owyn. When I was meeting with the rangers, I submitted your and Talon's names as candidates that should be advanced from apprentice to ranger." A sly look takes over his features, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in a small, knowing smile. "Master Warden Moyle agreed with my assessment, as did the other Wardens. When they arrive, there will be a formal initiation. Congratulations, Ranger." He reaches his hand forward as if to clasp my arm.
My mouth drops open, voice completely failing to produce any words. Is he joking? Apprentices usually take years to become rangers!
Finally, I gather my wits enough to utter a single word. "What?"
He chuckles again, a strange sound coming from him, filled with mirth. "You're going to become a full-fledged ranger, Owyn. And frankly, I can't think of anyone more deserving–"
Before he can finish, I take him in a tight, almost familial hug. He stands there for a moment, completely taken by surprise, before awkwardly patting me on the back with one hand.
Realizing how foolish my impulsivity has likely made me appear, I release him and take a step back, cheeks growing red. "Thank you, Elias. Truly, thank you. I seems that I owe you twice, now." I motion at the hatchet hanging from my belt.
His face grows serious, and he places a hand on my shoulder, giving me an intense look. "You owe me nothing," he says softly, even kindly. Then, he smiles again and takes a step back. "Now, go make yourself useful. Just because you're to become a ranger doesn't give you leave to idle the day away."
With that, he turns and makes his way toward one of the Academy buildings, disappearing inside.
It takes me a moment before I finally have a mind to move my feet. As I begin walking out of the gardens, my thoughts turn to my father and the fact that I am following in his footsteps.
Deep down, I wonder if he would be proud of the man I have become.
Chapter Ten
Zara
Another grey day dawns on the city of Tarsys, the heavy clouds billowing overhead and belying the unseasonable warmth of this winter season. The city itself is anything but idle as the morning stretches on. Soldiers patrol the streets in force while work parties are organized, preparing the city for what everyone knows is to come.
Standing in the center of the ruins of the Conclave, I stare out at the wreckage before me with a forced stoicism, my face an unreadable mask. To those around me, the laborers and the masons, I must appear like the quintessential mage – reserved, impassive, cold. Inside, however, my soul is in turmoil, my emotions raging like a storm.
More than two thousand people have been reported dead or missing, I think to myself, watching as a group of men struggle to load chunks of stone into a horse-drawn wagon. Many of them I knew... great scholars and mages alike.
As I stand there, absently rubbing my talisman in my hand, I go over the names of some of those who had perished in the fall of the Pillar of Radiance. Evoker Laramie... Kendrick Wynn... Edric Tel and the other members of the Circle... Richard Dawson...
That last one hurts even more than the others.
Richard had been a steward in training, stationed in the Great Library beneath the tower. He was unassuming and kind, a true friend when I was alone. He helped me uncover the conspiracy regarding the Harbingers and was a willing ear whenever I needed advice. When the Heart of Light exploded and the Pillar of Radiance collapsed, he had been below in the library – crushed by tons of dust and stone. The thought fills me with grief, his death just another addition to a long list of casualties this war has created.
I should have been nicer to him, I think, feeling a pang of guilt. I should have spent more time with him, not just use him for my own needs.
Pushing down the sorrow, I replace my talisman and follow a group of workers over to the broken base of the Pillar of Radiance. Now, the space is little more than a wide circle of debris, with large chunks of stone sticking out haphazardly from the torn and damaged ground. As I approach, I can see a cluster of mages standing amidst the rubble, staring down into a wide chasm with looks of concern on their faces.
They glance up as I approach, several of them recognizing me by the gold-tinged mage robes I am currently wearing.
“Seeker,” one of them says, greeting me shallow nod.
“Has the excavation begun on the Great Library?”
All of them shake their heads.
“We will begin shortly,” a man with short black hair replies, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. He appears to be in his mid-forties, with a fringe of grey hair growing at his temples. “We were just discussing what would be the best way to salvage the books buried down there.”
“The books should only be handled with great care,” an older woman puts in, her white hair pulled into a ponytail. “There’s no telling what sort of damage they’ve sustained, and we will need to preserve everything that we can.”
“Agreed,” I reply, peering down into the gaping black hole below. Unfortunately, I cannot see much in the gloom. “We should organize two teams: one for excavating the books, and one for compiling them, cleaning them, and preparing them for transport. I suggest setting up a pavilion the
re.” I point to a relatively flat stretch of ground close by.
The rest of the mages nod their agreement before setting off to work.
In short order, we gather a large force of both mages and laborers and set up a canvas tent on the flat expanse of ground. Torches are prepared and magefyre ignited, and soon, the first teams of excavators begin making their way down into the ruined library, picking their way carefully through the wreckage.
Fortunately for us, a large portion of the Library did not completely cave in, a large section of the ceiling remaining intact during the initial collapse. This allows us easy access, at least to a certain section of the chamber. Still, most of the shelves are broken and chunks of rock litter the ground like refuse. A thick layer of dust clings to everything, and laying amidst the detritus are bodies, crushed and broken beneath it all.
Despite the protests of many of the mages, I insist on going with one of the first teams below. I’ll admit – my purpose in coming here is not just to rescue the books that are buried, but to search for something, anything, that can aid me in my mission.
As I pick my way through the dark, crumbling chamber, a ball of magefyre floating near my head for light, I cannot help but shake my head in sadness.
So much knowledge, I think, noting the ruined state of many of the books. So much history lost to the greed of the R'Laar.
Bending down, I brush aside some dusty bits of masonry and pick up a book, the spine smashed and many of the pages crumpled and torn. It is a book of poetry, a collection of works written in a beautiful, flowing hand. Even in the dim light of my magefyre, I can see what it had once been.
Tucking the volume under my arm, I turn and survey a nearby heap of wood and grit. A bookshelf had once stood there. Now, it was buried beneath the rubble.
I glance around, watching as the others begin sifting through the remnant of this section of the library.
Then, I let out a long sigh and set to working, knowing full well that this is going to be an extremely wearisome day.
MANY LONG HOURS PASS, and it seems like we haven't even put a dent in salvaging the enormous library.
Sweaty and covered in dust, I climb out of the cavernous ruin for perhaps the hundredth time and suck in a deep breath of fresh air.
Light almighty, I think to myself tiredly as I make my way over to the pavilion, a pile of filth-covered books cradled in my arms. This is exhausting... and there is still so much that needs to be done!
Behind me, the sounds of chisels and shifting rubble can be heard coming from below, the teams carefully trying to move the chunks of rock that had buried most of the library. Even after a full day of work, we have only managed to clear out a small section of the chamber, large portions still lost beneath the fallen tower.
When I approach the pavilion, a pair of concerned-looking stewards rush up to me, thankfully taking the books and placing them with the others neatly arrayed on the ground.
“You shouldn’t push yourself so hard, Seeker,” one of them says, a bald, older man in crisp white robes. “It is dangerous to go down there, even with the supports now in place.”
I nod, wiping away a bead of sweat with the back of my hand. “I think that was the last time for me,” I say breathlessly. “I’m not sure I would be able to survive another trip.”
The two of them chuckle lightly, though my words are not far from the truth.
Walking up to the pavilion and its dozens of stacks of books, scrolls and papers, I take stock of everything we were able to save today. Even considering the fact that we have only been able to access a small part of the library, my efforts in seeking knowledge have not proved fruitless. I was able to uncover several volumes on ancient magic and artifice, including one curious tome about the Arc of Radiance itself. These, coupled with the books taken from the Cabal in Dunmar City, should prove a good place for me to start my research.
“I shall require these to be boxed up and shipped to my residence at the Academy,” I command, motioning at the stack of books I had set aside for myself. “Don’t worry about cleaning them off – I will take care of that myself. Please see to it at once.”
“Yes, Magus,” the stewards reply in unison.
A WARM BATH AND A GOOD scrubbing do wonders in reenergizing my mind and body. After spending so long in the wastes without proper facilities, I doubt I will ever tire of such luxuries.
Sitting in front of the desk in my old dormitory, I regard the stacks of dusty books in front of me with a look of grim determination. Elias had sent for Ignus to prepare the Cabal books from the Nightingale camp. They were waiting for me when I arrived.
Steeling myself, I reach forward and pick up the first book from the library stack, using a damp rag to clean away the grime from the cover. The title is stamped into the leather in gold leaf, and reads, Discourse of the Arcane.
Pulling it open, I begin to read.
THE EVENING DEEPENS into night, the sun setting outside my window and pitching my dormitory into darkness. Candles, which I had lit during one of my few breaks, flicker from their places on the desk and wall, filling the room with a soft, wavering glow.
Blinking bleary eyes, I close yet another book and lean back in my chair, blowing out a weary breath and rubbing my dust-covered hands together in irritation.
Another dead end, I think to myself, frustrated.
Nothing in these books, including the pages gleaned from my own diminutive book collection, contains useful information regarding the Arc of Radiance or the Heart of Light. Everything recorded is nothing more than hearsay and anecdotes, physical observations rather than scientific facts. The secrets of the artifice seem to have died with the mages who conjured it, Sophropnia Kent and the Circle of ancient times. How they created the Arc remains a mystery, even to this day.
Closing my eyes for just a moment, I mutter a quiet prayer to the Light.
“Please help me, Light,” I whisper, as honestly as I have ever prayed. “Help me to know what I must do. So many people are depending on me... don’t allow me to fall short again.”
Fear of failure driving me on, I open my eyes and lean forward once more, setting out to uncover the secrets of creating a new Arc.
I decide to shift away from reading the books from the library, instead reaching for one of those taken from the Cabal. I have already skimmed through most of them, though one particular volume catches my eye. It is penned in the hand of Edna, one of the three mages who made up the Cabal, and contains a long list of experimental spells she had developed over the course of her life.
Curious, I lay book in front of me and begin to leaf through it, scanning the text for anything that could be considered useful.
There are many spells and theories outlined within, some more fleshed out than others. Many of them seem interesting, though not particularly useful for my needs, their effects ranging from mundane to outright destructive. I am about to give up hope, to toss the book into the pile of partially-cleaned rejects, when something inside catches my eye.
“The Radiant Incendiary”
An explosive artifice designed for destroying demonkind
This idea came to me from a treatise on pre-Doom history, which seemed to indicate that bombs made from radiant magic and source crystals were sometimes used in battle against the R’Laar. Such artifices were said to be unstable at best, though extremely effective.
Needless to say, the text piqued my interest as a possible way to defend Dunmar City against an invading force.
After years of trial and error, I believe I have found a way to duplicate what was referenced in the historical accounts. A source crystal, when imbued with the proper enchantments, can indeed become an incendiary device of considerable pyrotechnics. The results are spectacular, if a little underwhelming in effect. As is common knowledge in the magical realm of study, radiant energy itself is not dangerous to humans. Only when it is used to conjure an outside force (like magefyre), does it pose a threat to people. The explosion of the artific
e destroys the source crystal, and the energy blast, though spectacular, does little to harm those nearby.
Due to lack of reliable source crystal, and the ineffective nature of the explosion, I have determined this experiment to be a failure. There is no practical use of this spell at this place and time.
Beneath the notes is a series of inscriptions and figures outlining exactly how she was able to create the artifice. These I glance over only with the barest attention to detail.
By the Light, I think to myself, momentarily amazed by what I had just read. Could this be used to destroy the demons? Perhaps I was thinking too defensively. Perhaps what we need is to attack rather than hide behind another shield.
Of course, I had read this passage before. I remember sharing it with Owyn when we were prisoners behind the walls of Dunmar City. Tonight, the information takes on an entirely new meaning.
I’ll need to test the spell, I think, suddenly growing more excited. If it works, then maybe I will still be able to use the source crystal in the wastes. Once I record the blast radius, then do some calculations to see how far it can extend, I will be able to have a good idea whether or not a bomb would be a decent alternative.
My mind is reeling, going over all the possible outcomes of such a daring experiment. The more I think about it, the more my heart begins to race.
“Thank you,” I whisper, addressing the Light directly. I look up at the ceiling and smile. “Thank you for guiding me.”
If this works, then we should be able to destroy the demons for good, ridding our world of their threat forever.
It would be the greatest magical feat of all time.
First thing’s first, I remind myself, picking up a pen and beginning to write. I will need to organize a test.
Chapter Eleven
Talon
“I’m telling you, mate, the end of the world is the best thing that’s ever happened to me!”
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