“I am aware of that,” Farah revealed, which surprised him. “I stay in contact with some of my friends and associates in my clan. On top of that, these…irregularities are popping up all over. We have been in contact with other kingdoms and these dark spots have formed across the land. From what I know, there is the one here in Levirei, one in Osira near Yastan, and one in the kingdom of Kanako as well. Britana is probably the worst off. I’ve heard that there are two there. I assume there are others in Soel, Fredom, and Norvian as well but they have not informed us—or the capital hasn’t, at least.”
“I see,” Wulfsun nodded. “Then we should probably get to work. If we can find a way to destroy or shut down these ‘dark spots,’ I want to return to tell my order so others can deal with them more efficiently.”
“Understood and well spoken.” She picked her sword up and pushed from her chair. “Take whatever you wish from the table. We’ll go by carriage to the council towers where Lord Maximillian awaits.”
“Maximillian?” Jazai asked and looked at his teammates. “Is that his last name?”
“No, it is his first,” Farah said. “He prefers to use his first name and says it shows that he is simply another one of the people.”
“But you still call him lord,” Asla noted.
“Yes, he prefers that as well.” Farah sighed and took a bite of one of the cheeses as she moved to the door. “I should give you fair warning, My lord is somewhat…eccentric.”
“Of course he is,” Wulfsun grumbled and snatched the flask of ale. “I know these types and am probably gonna need this. Let’s go, you three.”
Chapter Twenty
“So you see, mister...” Lord Maximillian Torvel trailed off as a servant poured another glassful of wine into a freakishly large goblet.
“Wulfsun, your lordship.” Wulfsun muttered something under his breath. He tried his best to remain calm and composed and made a good show of it. Devol intercepted irate glares from both Jazai and Asla at the casual demeanor of this lord. Given the circumstances, one would think he would be more earnest.
The man placed his feet on his desk and motioned to a chair in front of him. “Yes, my apologies. It’s been such a busy last few days. I’m certainly glad you accepted the offer I posted on behalf of the city.”
“On behalf of all the lords?” Devol asked. “I thought this was on behalf of the military or the city itself.”
Maximillian raised an eyebrow in scorn. “Hmm… Oh yes, you are from Monleans. Everything runs through the king and his cabinet. You see, my dear boy, that is not how things are run here in Levirei. Although it is not your fault that you don’t understand that.” He leaned forward and slipped his hand inside the pocket of his jacket to retrieve a small box decorated in red and yellow and adorned with symbols that looked like a serpent swallowing its tail.
“My apologies,” Devol said because it seemed like the right thing to do. He glanced at his friends. Asla merely shrugged and gave him a sorrowful look while Jazai stared out the window and wondered if the seven stories to the streets below were enough for him to successfully commit suicide. “In that case, can you tell us why you were the one to post the mission?”
“He’s rather new to this, isn’t he?” Maximillian asked as he took a rootstick from his ornate box and lit it. Violet smoke drifted slowly through the air. “It is fine, however. In fact, it is rather delightful to see one so young take up a cause and one born in our capital, no less. Did you know I’m running for lordship of economics next year when Sera Equio retires?”
“I hope it works out for you,” Wulfsun replied with a small sigh. “But if we could get back to the matter of these anomalies—”
“Yes, yes, of course. Very well,” Maximillian interrupted with a wave of his hand. “I shall repeat myself, if only because my request is so important to me and my legacy.” He took another drag and sip from his vices. “Give me a moment. Every time I think about this travesty, I think I might lose my mind and die.”
“I've learned I'm never that lucky,” Jazai mumbled as he studied the rings on his fingers and peered at the number of guards in the room before he sighed and clasped his hands behind his back. “Please take all the time you need, even until the sun sets.”
Maximillian scoffed. “That's not for another hour and a half.”
“I'm sure he’s aware of that.” Devol forced himself to relax in the chair provided. He took a moment to study the aristocrat in front of him. Maximillian might have been insufferable as a person but as a lord, he fit the part with his long blond hair, light in color to the point of being white almost like Farah’s, a high brow, sunken cheeks, and plucked, narrow eyebrows atop deep green eyes. The eyes had a rather obvious enchanting on them as they had a sparkling glow and the shade would slowly lighten to a pleasant green that reminded him of the trees of the Emerald Forest. They would then darken to a shadowy jungle-green. His best guess was that he used these for seduction and he wondered if he could ask if they worked at all and were good for the job.
He was dressed in a closed long jacket decorated like his rootstick box—a red body with golden trim and buttons. His slacks and heeled boots were both solid black. It was difficult to make out the material in the dim light but given the almost perfect fit and attention to the stitching, they must have cost more than the entirety of Devol's wardrobe and more.
“Well, thank you for the offer but I seem to have miraculously composed myself.” The lord straightened and rested his hands on the desk.
“Oh, joy,” Wulfsun muttered and took a quick drag of a cigar that one of the servants had offered and he’d originally refused. “So, what is the short version of the story?” The lord took a drink from his glass and moved the bangs of his hair to uncover his face so he could stare bemusedly at the Templar.
“It would seem that some of my...associates have not been forthcoming about the current issues with regards to this dark spot near the city. In particular, how so many people have gone missing and the odd shadow creatures that constantly appear. Some of my personal guards and my more astute personnel have patrolled and studied the area. The lord of the military has increased the watch around the walls and sent a few more groups of troops to guard the area and cut down any of the monstrosities that crawl out, but even with the lady of academics bringing in scholars and magi to ward it, there is no sign that it might dissipate or anything.”
He sighed dramatically. “At best, it seems to contain it to some extent. We’ve lost many good people, both in disappearances and those who have had some…mental difficulties in dealing with surveys into the area. Naturally, this is upsetting the populace. So what we decided to do is bring experts in from areas outside the city who have more…freedom to do what they wish.”
The insinuation was not lost on Wulfsun but he ignored it. “You mean people like the Templars?”
“We considered a number of guilds and experts, but I believe you are one of the best suited for such things.” Maximillion smiled wryly before he finished the last of his drink. “Normally, we would reach out to our guilds here in Levirei or perhaps in the capital. But given that this mess is spreading to other kingdoms and considering your unique skill set, I insisted that you be hired.” He beckoned the servant with the wine bottle again and the man stepped forward and filled the goblet with the last of the contents of the bottle.
“And that is appreciated,” Wulfsun stated and folded his arms. “So some of your people go missing and none of the usual tricks have worked in dealing with this anomaly. Calling the Templar isn’t a bad course of action but I’m curious about something, Lord Maximillian. With what we know, I would guess this is shadow or blood magic of some kind. Wouldn’t the better option be to contact a warlock guild? They deal with this type of problem as well and would probably be cheaper.”
“Cheaper?” Jazai whispered to the others. “How much are they being paid for this. Do we get a cut?”
“It’s a fair question,” Devol replied.
&n
bsp; “Not now, both of you,” Asla stated and watched the lord suspiciously as they waited for his response.
“Mr. Wulfsun, I'm beginning to think you believe I have some kind of ulterior motive in hiring your order or potentially think of me as an idiot,” Maximillian replied, although a small smile crept onto his face. The Templar tilted his head and waited for him to continue. “However, I am a gentleman and I will not lie so yes, I have my suspicions about what this is and believe the Templars are the best choice to deal with it.” He took a long drag and let the smoke billow out as he spoke. “I hope you are not so cynical as to believe running an empire must take no more than charisma and expensive taste alone. So now that I know the general knowledge, let me interest you with a personal theory.”
In the next moment, something happened that briefly knocked the Templars out of their scornful attitude. The man’s demeanor changed. It would not have seemed obvious to most but the small smile on his lips became a wider, eerie grin although his body language revealed next to nothing. Still, the haughty air of the lord seemed to vanish, his poise seemed cold, and his shifting eyes seemed to change reflexively to their darker shade.
“Because I find something rather interesting about this anomaly and potentially, there is much to gain from it as well.” His nonchalant tone vanished and was replaced by a frosty tone, and the way he spoke made every word sound like liquid pouring from his mouth. Farah, who had stood silently beside him all this time, flinched slightly at his change in demeanor. “I believe this anomaly is exactly that—an anomaly or an enigma, something that shouldn’t be and we don’t yet truly understand.” He finished his drink and placed the empty glass on the table. He settled his elbows on the desk, intertwined his fingers, and rested his chin on them. “You Templars, as an order, have more leniency than most. I wish to make use of that. From what I understand, you are rather knowledgeable about particular items of…a cursed disposition.”
Devol stared at him, surprised that he knew of malefics. And if he read him right, if he knew of malefics and what they could do, he seemed to want to use them.
“If I am right that something is channeling this power or even creating it, I would like to have it in my possession. I know that is not in the mission details themselves, but consider this a personal request to you. Should you be interested, I can pay you quite—"
“I can’t promise anything,” Wulfsun interrupted and his gaze fixed icily on the lord. “I can’t say I know what you are getting at, but if something is controlling this mess, it needs to be destroyed. Hells, from what I understand, that may be the only way to stop this anomaly, dark spot, or whatever the hells it is. We’re here to do exactly that, not get you a new trinket.”
The light from the office's windows dimmed as the sun fell slowly from the sky and cast a dusky light on the group. The lord frowned briefly but shrugged and leaned back. “I can certainly understand that. It’s a pity, but I think it might have turned out to be a bother anyway.” He looked at the group, noticed their majestics, and pointed them out. “Do you use them well?” he asked with a smirk.
“Yes,” the Templar replied. “We will find out what this dark spot is and if we can stop it, we will.”
Maximillian nodded and motioned to the woman beside him. “Farah shall accompany you. She is highly skilled in swordsmanship and the use of light magic. And, of course, if you feel the need to have backup, any of the guardsman wearing red-and-gold armbands are under my employ. Simply tell them to accompany you under my authority.”
“Again we appreciate it, but that second part won’t be necessary,” Wulfsun stated and nodded at Farah. “Having light magic could be of use, though.” She nodded in reply.
The lord leaned back in his chair and studied the group in a careless way. “Then I wish you the best of luck. If you accept this mission, take the carriage to the site. They already await you.” He placed a hand over his heart. “Oh, and if you fail and sadly pass on from this world, I promise you a beautiful funeral.” This earned mixed reactions in the room and Devol felt more ill around this lord than at the possibility of facing the anomaly.
“What a kind gesture,” the Templar said gruffly, finished the cigar, and stamped it out as he stood “Consider this my acceptance and again, that last part won’t be needed.”
Maximillian raised his hands and clapped three times. A gray-haired, white-suited servant or perhaps bodyguard given his size entered the office quickly enough to indicate that he’d stood outside the door. He walked to Maximillian's side and produced a small book—a journal, it seemed—and handed it to Wulfsun, who began to flip through the pages. “Feel free to read that whenever you please. It contains a few notes, pictures, and the like of what we know so far. Do what you need to do but I do have a request.” The Templar looked up from the book and raised an eyebrow. “If you do find yourself overwhelmed, try to make it to the main site alive. Even if you expire, we could probably learn much from the autopsy.”
“Are you joking?” Jazai’s growled tone was so low the man fortunately didn’t hear him.
“We’ll keep it in mind, your lordship.” Their leader looked at the youngsters. “You know the stakes now. Do you still wish to continue?”
The three friends nodded and stood close together. Wulfsun began to walk out of the office and Devol turned to follow. “Oh, and you—the one from Monleans!” Maximillian called. The boy turned to see he still wore his chilly smile. “I hope I can have your vote next year. I hope to see you again.”
He merely nodded and hurried to catch up to the others. Honestly, he hoped to never see this man again.
Chapter Twenty-One
The cobalt-fueled carriage hovered only a few inches above the road. They had left the city of Levirei far behind them and the conveyance was taking them to the dark spot site. Their arrival was only several minutes away. Inside the carriage, the group examined the journal with the information Maximillian’s employees had gathered thus far on the anomaly.
It provided minimal details, unfortunately. Almost anyone who ventured inside—even protected by exotics, enchanted gear, and wards—would either not return or came back mentally scarred. Their only communication seemed to be yells and scattered mumblings of darkness and monsters. When they had been healed or calmed, which usually took days, they could barely recall anything from within the ebon space they had ventured into.
Devol looked at one of the photos, supposedly a sighting of one of the creatures that had streamed out of the anomaly, but it merely looked like a black blob gliding above the grasslands of Levirei.
“Those are useless.” Farah sighed. He looked at her and she offered him a sketch. “These creatures don’t have a form unless you can see them using anima. We even tried using cameras with enchanted film and glass infused with traces of cobalt but it didn’t help much and those pictures are the best we have. These sketches are slightly more accurate.”
He put the picture down and took the sketch. Jazai and Asla looked over his shoulder. On the page was nothing more than a shadowy, human-shaped being with little white dots for eyes and no discernible features. “This was the best you could get?” the diviner asked.
“That’s what they look like to most people,” she explained. “At least that is how I’ve seen them when I’ve patrolled. They aren’t particularly strong but they are tenacious and direct physical attacks don’t do anything against them. We’ve had strong guards attack with all manner of weapons, but unless they use weapons enchanted with certain magics, like light, even if they do injure the creatures, they simply reform themselves.”
“Abyssal fiends,” Wulfsun muttered and tossed another sketch onto the small folding table in the center of the carriage.
“You do know of them, then?” Farah asked and her tone indicated surprise and even a trace of hope. “What is an abyssal?”
“They are creatures formed using magic from the Abyss. It’s a realm that most aren’t familiar with and has no real inhabitants like the other
realms or even much fauna. In fact, from what we have been able to tell in the order, it might be nothing more than energy. This abyssal magic is similar to shadow magic in that it can copy things and has a dark bent, but it does more than simply copy. It is almost viscous when used and it seems to absorb—or more accurately consume—whatever it touches. I’ve been on a couple of missions into the realm. The typography, flora, and rocks all seem to be from different realms and are combined somewhat haphazardly there with dark traces left from the realm itself.”
“The Abyss?” Devol inquired. “Isn’t that where—ow!” He rubbed his side where Jazai had elbowed him. The diviner focused on him and tried to tell him to keep quiet but also nodded his head to give him a clue that he was right. That was where the Templar imprisoned the malefics.
“Then if you are familiar with it, can you deal with it?” Farah asked.
Wulfsun nodded. “More than likely, this isn’t controlled by a single magi. I’ve yet to meet one who can wield it properly as one would any other type of magic. The reason these dark spots have been appearing all over is probably due to a tear.”
“A tear?” Asla asked. “As in a tear between realms?”
“Aye. Someone tore a fissure open between our realm and that one.” The Templar sighed and clenched his fist. “The dumb bastards. It would explain why they are stuck in one place and simply grow outward. The magic is slowly dripping into our realm as time goes on. It would also explain how you can hold it off with certain wards for a while but eventually, the abyssal magic will adapt or simply consume the wards and continue to expand.”
“We’ve had that happen already,” Farah admitted. “The size of the spot was only around a hundred and fifty meters when we set the first wards up. It remained that way for about a week before the wards disappeared and it continued to grow. The scholars created more complex wards that halted the expansion again.”
Bloodflowers Bloom (The Astral Wanderer Book 2) Page 11