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Apprentice

Page 1

by Nicholas Hale




  Apprentice

  Nicholas Hale

  Will of the Covenant

  Book 1

  "Six there will be,

  Three against three

  Light and Darkness.

  Vengeance and Passion,

  Purpose and Madness.

  Be they together,

  or against one another,

  Within them flows

  the strength to break

  the power to unmake

  the will to shape

  the yen to create.

  Man, Beast, God and Daemon,

  Beneath their weight,

  into the abyss descend

  Or upon their shoulders,

  unto the heavens ascend"

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  - Six hundred years before Naxannor's wake

  Gawain coughed blood as he dragged himself into a sitting position against the wall of the cave. His staff was within arm's reach. If he could only…

  "Look out Sybil! The mage still has some fight left in him," said a cackling voice.

  As soon as the voice spoke, a serpentine creature with four limbs, each holding a blade, slithered towards Gawain's broken form and flicked the staff away with its tail.

  They had no way of knowing.

  "You made quite an entertaining choice, mage!" said the cackling voice again.

  Gawain turned his head to look at a tiny old man sitting atop a rock. He appeared to be thoroughly enjoying himself. Sybil, the serpentine demon busied itself, making its way across the beaten, bloody and unconscious bodies of Gawain's companions. His friends. Only Castor still stood. If one could call it standing. He was on one knee and out of breath, but his blade was still held up. The man seemed determined. How was he still alive?

  "They're all still alive mage. The Sitri never break their word," said the old man, a little more seriously.

  He could read minds. Gawain was sure of it now.

  "Wish I could. No. I just happen to be very good at reading faces. And mortal faces - especially on this plane… Oh, they speak volumes."

  Sybil moved to stand opposite Castor.

  No, Gawain wanted to yell. He wanted to warn his dear friend. They were beaten. Yet, Castor found it in him to strike out against the serpent. Gawain never thought he would see the majestic man in an endeavor that looked so…futile. Sybil simply swatted away the paladin's blade and struck him violently with the hilt of a weapon held in another limb.

  Castor didn't fall to the ground. He used one hand to defiantly keep himself upright.

  A second blow, much more forceful than the first one, though still unfatal, landed on his head. This time, Castor fell to the ground. He was spent.

  "Strong willed that one," said the old man. "Much more than the rest of your pink, weak brethren"

  Disgust. The second sentence held so much contempt as it was spoken by the old man. Especially the word weak.

  "But a strong will can take one only so far. The measure of your will matters not if your body is incapable of expressing it."

  "Are you human?" asked Gawain.

  "In a sense. Yes and no," said the old man. "We're not of this plane if that's what you're asking."

  Gawain looked around at his opponents. There were six of them. But only two of the six were on this side of the cave. Sybil, who was slithering around the unconscious bodies of Gawain's friends. And the tiny old man who was sitting on the rock.

  The remaining four were in the far side of the cave standing in front of a large stone door. They weren't interested in or even observing what was happening on this side.

  "Sorry to say, you simply don't matter," said the old man once again reading Gawain's mind.

  They had been sent by the priests of Myria from the Temple of Sawlem to investigate the disappearance of several young squires. Their investigations in the surrounding region led them to this network of underground caves. Castor, being a paladin could sense evil emanating from within. And so, they ventured forth to cleanse the cave of evil and find the missing squires.

  They found a cult of summoners operating inside, that had been raising demons. But Castor's group had cut through them with ease. Some of the creatures in the cave gave them trouble, but nothing they couldn’t handle. These were minor demons.

  Until they came to the final level of the cave and found these six… Sitri? Was that what they called themselves? Gawain was practiced enough in magic to gauge the strength of a creature just by observing it, and these six were unlike any creatures he had seen or heard about in his entire life.

  Firstly, they were so heterogeneous. Only two of them looked human. The little old man, and a young red-haired girl. The remaining four resembled no creatures Gawain knew of. Sybil looked like a snake or a salamander, but with four limbs that could wield blades. The other three - One looked like a large beast made out of rocks, another looked like a large bipedal wolf. Gawain would have guessed it was a large werewolf, but it looked more like a deformed hyena.

  The final one. It was a spider the size of a dog, but Gawain could only catch glimpses of it. It had busied itself in exploring the roof of the cave, only occasionally descending on a silvery strand of web to observe them. Gawain was sure it had more than animal intelligence. When they had first encountered and spoken to this motley group of creatures, he could tell that the spider was listening in and even understanding them.

  "What are you doing with the kidnapped squires?" asked Gawain. If he was going to die, he might as well get answers
.

  "Your pink younglings? What use would we have for them?" asked the old man.

  Was the old man lying? No. Why lie to an enemy they could so easily defeat. And it had only taken one of them to do it. Sybil.

  The remaining members of the group hadn't even observed the battle. You simply don't matter. The old man's words. This was worse than any defeat Gawain had ever faced in his life. The sheer indifference from their enemies. They might as well have been ants crawling on the ground as far as these creatures were concerned.

  "Come now. Ants? Give yourselves a little more credit."

  "You lied. You can read minds," said Gawain

  "Well, I confess I can hear your thoughts a bit. Partially. It's all very confusing. You think too loud."

  "If you're not the evil in this place, then what happened to the squires?"

  "Again, with your stupid squires. They don't even taste good!"

  Gawain winced as he heard those words. They were followed by loud chittering noises. He saw the spider descend from the blackness of the ceiling and land next to the old man on the rock. It continued chittering and then the old man started laughing.

  "Styx thinks they're not that bad. Got a bite off one when he escaped from the cells," he said with amusement.

  The cells. They were in the level above. But they were empty.

  "They're empty now. Your younglings were released and moved into the chamber up there," he said pointing to the large stone door where the remaining four Sitri were standing and engaged in conversation.

  "How do you know this?"

  "Styx was sent to scout ahead before the rest of us arrived."

  The spider continued chittering.

  "Take it up with the mistress, Styx," said the old man dryly.

  "So, the squires were moved to the summoning chamber?"

  Some of the letters and a journal they found had indicated that the summoners were planning a ritual in the lower levels. One for which the squires would be used as sacrifices.

  "Tell you what, young mage. A question for a question. You answer mine and I'll answer yours."

  "Are they in the chamber?" asked Gawain immediately.

  The old man sighed as the spider chittered.

  "Jumping right into it eh? No. They're not in there anymore. They were. But they're dead now."

  Gawain closed his eyes fighting back tears. They had failed.

  "Why?" asked Gawain. "What's worth sacrificing fifteen children for?"

  "I don't think you understand how this game works mage. A question for a question. My turn. Why did you choose Sybil?"

  It looked like there was no other way to get answers but to play the old man's game. So be it.

  "He looked to be the weakest among you."

  The old man laughed.

  "Think you chose right? The fat one wanted to choose Styx. Think that would have been a better choice?"

  When they first arrived in the lower levels and saw these creatures standing outside the chamber, they hadn't known what to think. Gawain could immediately sense they were outmatched, but his companions drew their weapons. Castor included. His innate ability to sense evil had probably warned him.

  That was a mistake however. The Sitri hadn't even noticed them entering. Perhaps they did notice, but they didn't care. None but the short old man, who waddled forward and engaged them in conversation. He said Castor's group could pick any one of them to fight against, and if they defeated their pick, they would be granted passage. Ten minutes later, they all lay on the floor half beaten to death by Sybil.

  "No," said Gawain. "I doubt we'd have lasted this long."

  The spider chittered cheerfully.

  "Right you are!" roared the old man. "Who was your second choice?"

  "My turn. Why were the squires sacrificed?"

  "You're boring for someone so young. My questions are more fun. The squires were sacrificed because one of them held a great deal of power in his blood. The idiots you call 'summoners' didn't know which one, so they decided to use all of them for their ritual."

  "What were they summoning?" asked Gawain

  "I don't know. We could sense the creature they awakened was strong. It remains to be seen if its powerful enough to be worthy of our loyalty."

  "Is that why you're here? To pledge yourselves to this summoned demon?"

  "Awakened. Not summoned. There's a difference. Truth be told, we're here because we're curious. We're masterless after our commander… fell."

  The spider started chittering loudly and bared its fangs at the old man.

  "Quit it, will you!" the old man said "They're not going anywhere. Besides, they can't do anything even if they knew."

  "What are you going to do now?" asked Gawain.

  "We're deciding if your plane is worth the trouble or not. If this "demon" that you've accidentally awakened can indeed bear the will of the Covenant."

  "The will of the Covenant?"

  The spider snapped its fangs and bit the old man.

  "Ow! Damned arachnid!"

  "That is enough Astarius," said a calm female voice. "We are leaving."

  The red-haired girl. She looked young but her voice betrayed maturity. She was clearly the leader of this group. The other creatures were following her.

  "What of these humans?" asked the wolf-like creature.

  The red-haired girl looked occupied and didn't bother answering. Instead, she seemed to be thoughtfully staring into the ground at nothing in particular. She appeared to be thinking. Gawain was sure "these humans" were the last thing on her mind. When she didn't reply, the wolf merely shrugged and moved to stand behind her.

  She looked plain, wearing a white dress up to the length of her knees. No armor, and a simple spear on her back. Absent the spear, she could pass for a tavern waitress. The other creatures were far better armed and looked more menacing. That they all treated her every word as command and waited on her amazed Gawain.

  The old man stood up on the rock and began casting in a language that was alien to him. Even Sybil had fallen behind the girl. Once the old man finished casting, a dark portal appeared. As a group, the creatures walked into it. Styx the spider was the last to enter the portal after making some noises directed at the old man. He, however, sat back down on the rock.

  "I have a few more minutes. The fat one wanted Styx, but it looked like your leader and that other girl with you wanted to pick someone else?"

  "They wanted to pick you," said Gawain.

  "That could have been a mistake," said the old man. He didn’t say it in a threatening way. He was making a thoughtful observation, rubbing his chin.

  "Well. It's hard to say," he continued "I'm a spell caster. You, of all people here should know how vulnerable mages can be. We're devastating, but one well-placed strike…"

  Gawain laughed, coughing up some more blood.

  "So, you’re leaving then?" asked Gawain.

  "It would appear so. The mistress has made her decision. It would seem whatever is behind those doors isn't worth our time."

  "There is nothing else in this plane that interests you?" asked Gawain out of curiosity.

  "There are a few things. Some anomalies. Echoes of our commander. Especially to the far south of this place. But your plane is strange. It's not kind to extra-planar creatures. Doesn't look that way, but it's taking quite a bit of our energy to sustain ourselves here. Lesser demons, unbound to a summoner, would simply burn away. That isn't to say we won't return. Another time perhaps."

  Gawain turned to look at the large stone door, wondering what lay behind it.

  "Your companions wanted Styx. Who was your second choice?" asked the old man.

  Gawain hesitated before answering. His second choice had been the red-haired girl.

  The old man snorted derisively as he read his mind.

  "Mistress Elfayn? Add the five of us to your group and the twelve of us together wouldn't stand a chance against her. I doubt there's anyone on your plane of weaklings that could
stand a full minute against her in battle."

  Gawain believed him. She was going to be his first choice, but she merely glanced at him for a second, and he could see a bottomless well of power behind her eyes. It was only that doubt that led him to choose the salamander.

  "You chose right, mage. I was lying. Sybil is the weakest among us."

  A cold comfort, thought Gawain.

  "Not really," said the old man reading Gawain's thoughts. "You're weak when compared to one of the Sitri, but you should have no trouble facing whatever is behind that door. It appears to be but the shade of a true arch-demon. Rest a while. Heal, gather your strength and you should be fine. I told Sybil not to be too hard on you."

  "Why didn't you kill us?" asked Gawain.

  "Such narrow-minded creatures. So quick to judge. Anything remotely not from your plane, and your kind are ready to pass judgment on it as "evil". Ready to bludgeon, stab and burn it."

  "I could sense demonic essences emanating from nearly all of you," said Gawain.

  "And that makes us evil?"

  "What you did here does."

  "Evil would be killing you. Believe me, it would have been far easier for Sybil to kill you. She exercised much restraint. What I did here… was teach you a lesson. Your group's first instincts were to attack us. Your paladin friend certainly made up his mind the moment he laid eyes on us. The only thing that stayed your weapons was the uncertainty of your victory. Had we suppressed our auras of strength, you would have attacked us without hesitation."

  Gawain remained silent.

  "If there's anything the Sitri has taught us, it is that we do not judge by appearances. Perhaps you'll think twice before killing something just because it doesn't fit your narrow view of good and evil. Do you understand?"

  "Are you telling me you're good?"

  "You're missing the point of the lesson mage. I'm not preaching kindness. I'm saying that it's foolish to attack and attempt to kill something you don't understand fully. You label your enemies 'evil' and yourselves 'good', as if that somehow guarantees your victory. It does not. When you've seen as much of the planes as I have, you'll understand that knowledge is far more powerful than any spell you can cast. Regardless of your misplaced notions of good and evil, to truly stop your enemy, you must know and understand his motives. Killing him is not enough. Death is a surmountable obstacle. Albeit with some difficulty."

 

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