Eligium- The Complete Series

by Jake Allen Coleman

  It was a long while before either Sebastian or Krystelle could speak, horrified as they were at the devastation before them. Krystelle found her voice first. “What happened here?”

  “Look at the dock. Some force from the sea must have taken them unawares. Why did they have no defenses? Why is there no keep?”

  Krystelle just stared at him. “They are wizards! Their defense is not in stone and sword. Uriasz had no need of a keep because their magical works should have kept them safe from any normal attack.”

  Ruefully, Sebastian had to admit she was right. “Then it must have been Sterling Lex himself!”

  Krystelle shook her head. “I do not think so. This is not his way. Why burn the buildings and destroy the accumulation of knowledge? Sterling Lex would salvage the lore to use it for his own devices. No, someone…or something…else did this. More likely it was the Krenon.”

  Absorbing what she was saying, Sebastian surveyed the destruction for any clue to the mystery of what had occurred. That was when he saw it. “Krystelle!” he hissed. “Movement, there on the far side of the compound. A survivor?”

  “Or one of those responsible. We must be cautious. You are a fair woodsman. Do you think you can make it around the tree-line to the far side without being seen?” Sebastian nodded. “Then you do that. I will wait until the sun rises a full mark and make my way into the open. Either our quarry is friendly and will come to greet me or I will flush them towards you. Get going!”

  #

  Sebastian made his way back down the bluff and used the terrain to shield himself from their quarry for much of the distance round the Cale Uriasz settlement. The island’s terrain was sparser than the forests around his home in Taleros and he made good time. Nearing the point he marked out to veer back toward the Cale, he took stock of his surroundings. In his haste he had taken little note of the flora of the island. He supposed that the array of bright flowers and green shrubs would be considered beautiful by some, but the pinks and yellows of the island held no fascination for him in this moment.

  Slowing his pace, he crept shoreward. The sun was nearing the mark Krystelle had set, and he needed to be in position. He paused on the verge of the tree-line to survey the landscape. Having judged the matter well, he was not far off his intended position and he could make out the bluff on the far side of the Cale where Krystelle waited. Scanning the destruction, he found the ruined structure where he had spied out their prey. There was no sign of the figure he had seen.

  As he waited for Krystelle to make her move, a bead of sweat trickled down his back from the heat of the day, yet he dared not stir for fear of alerting whoever was there to his presence. Resisting the temptation to squirm, he ran through the breathing exercises Quiren Adelwolf had taught him.

  Across the Cale, he saw Krystelle rise from her hiding place. None too soon! He breathed a sigh of relief and then tensed, waiting for the unknown survivor to show themselves. Krystelle walked with a measured pace toward the boundary of the ruined settlement, arms open and outstretched so as not to alarm their quarry. She had just reached the picket-line when Sebastian saw movement in one of the nearby buildings. Their elusive prey was watching Krystelle.

  “Eee-yah!” Krystelle shouted out a cry of greeting. The figure tensed in the shadows and Sebastian made himself ready should he prove foe rather than friend. “Hail Uriasz!” Focused on Krystelle, whoever he was backed away out of his shelter and toward Sebastian. All he had to do would be to turn and he would see Sebastian lying in wait. Krystelle continued moving forward and had entered the compound.

  Now that the figure had moved out of their shelter, Sebastian could get a better look at them. This was no warrior. His ragged tunic of cotton had once been a creamy white was draped over a scrawny form, all knees and elbows. Now that tunic was a mass of dirty browns and grays made even more bedraggled from days fending for himself in the ruins of his former home. His stringy hair was cut long at the shoulders and might have been a sandy blonde had it been washed in the recent past. From the lack of a shadow on his chin, Sebastian guessed that the lad could be no more than 13 or 14 years. A page or perhaps even an apprentice to the wizards. There was something in his manner that reminded Sebastian of Cenric.

  Before long, the boy came close to Sebastian’s hiding place, still watching Krystelle as she made her way through the ruins. “Hello there.” He jumped out of his skin at the sound of Sebastian’s voice so close to hand. Turning, the boy saw Sebastian not fifteen feet away and collapsed, weeping. “Here now,” said Sebastian. “We’ll not harm you. Krystelle!” He beckoned to the woman.

  She joined him and the weeping boy, putting her arm around him. “Stop your fretting, all will be well. What is your name boy?”

  Between sobs, the boy eked out a single word, “Drealan.”

  Krystelle gestured for Sebastian to bring over his water bladder “Well Drealan, here is water. We have food we can share with you as well.” Grasping the bladder, the boy guzzled a fair amount of Sebastian’s store. “Now, that is better is it not?” The boy nodded. “Can you tell us what happed here Drealan?”

  Nodding again, he took in a deep breath. “Twas the boy who done it. Yesterday morn we, the other ‘prentices and I, were gathered at rise when a boat came over the horizon. Our teacher said to go about our studies an’ it was just the ship from Cale Conall as was expected. It came to anchor out in the bay and let out an away boat. They rowed to the dock, and the boy came ashore. He didn’t say nothing. Just stood there. The masters…they tried to see what he was about, but he would have none of it. Just stood with ‘is arms outstretched. Then the wyrmm came, breath all afire. He called it. He made it kill ‘em all.”

  Krystelle and Sebastian exchanged a glance. A dragon. Just like the one they encountered on their island. “Tell us more about this boy,” commanded Krystelle.

  “He had this chain about his neck and on the chain a stone of blood red about the size of a fist.”

  Krystelle gasped at the description. “It can’t be.”

  “Do you know this stone?” asked Sebastian.

  “It matches a description of the Eligius Muliach I heard once. But that can not be! The Dragonstone is hidden away with the dwarves far to the north. There’s no way it could have been here. Tell us more about this boy. What did he look like?”

  “He was just a normal boy, looked a bit older than me. He was thin, his eyes bloodshot. Brown curly hair on his head”

  Sebastian shivered at the description, “That sounds like Cenric! But how?”

  “I am certain it could not have been him,” said Krystelle. “He is not the only boy fitting that description in the kingdom. What happened after the dragon came?”

  “That boy, he sent the dragon away just as fast as it had come. Then the dark wizard came ashore and joined the dragonmaster.”

  “Sterling Lex, it must have been.” Sebastian shuddered, a cold tremor crawling up his spine.

  “Aye,” said Drealan. “The two of ‘em, they searched through the wreckage together. They was looking for the Chronicles of Uriasz. I heard the wizard name it. They didna find it though. The masters, they kept the Chronicles hid from such as him.”

  “But what would Sterling Lex want with the Chronicles?” wondered Krystelle.

  Drealan looked down at the remains of Cale Uriasz, silent for a moment before answering. “Only one reason. The Chronicles, they have the rites to anoint an Arch-mage.”

  “At least they didn’t find it,” said Sebastian. “The wizards must have hidden it well.”

  Drealan shook his head. “They didn’t hide it at all. It weren’t here.”

  “What do you mean?” said Krystelle. “Where is it?”

  “Twas my teacher what told them. He was the last of the wizards alive at the end. He thought to hide, but they found him out and forced him.” Drealan let out a little whimper as his gaze fixed on one of the nearby corpses. Lifting an arm, he pointed, “That’s his body there.”

  Krystelle
pressed him, “What did he tell them?”

  “The Chronicles were not here at Uriasz. One of the council took it to study with him off at the Dazhberg. It was supposed to coming with him here on a ship from Cale Conall. The ship we was expecting.”

  “But that was our ship!” said Sebastian. “Gerhard must have been bringing the Chronicles back with him.”

  “Your ship? Then there’s hope for Uriasz,” said Drealan. “Where’s Gerhard?”

  Krystelle laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “We were shipwrecked and Lord Gerhard was lost. I am afraid the Chronicles were lost with him.”

  Drealan’s face fell as another thought occurred to Sebastian. “Maybe not,” he said. “What if the book was in his chest?”

  Considering, Krystelle nodded. “That would make sense.”

  Drealan brightened again. “A chest? Yes, that could be. Where is it?”

  “Just over the rise there,” said Sebastian. “You wait here and I’ll fetch it back.”

  Dusk settled in as Sebastian trudged back to the two trees where they had buried Gerhard’s chest. Back in the ruins, Krystelle and Drealan set to work collecting wood to prepare a fire against the coming night. Reaching the hiding spot, Sebastian dug down to unearth the chest and hauled it out. Carrying it back he thought to wonder how they would manage to open it. The chest had resisted all of his efforts so far.

  It turned out that Drealan had some ideas. Sebastian had no sooner set the chest down when the boy scurried over and caressed its wooden side. “Yes,” he said. "I believe the Chronicles are inside. I can almost feel their power.”

  “That must be why I felt so strongly about keeping it safe,” said Sebastian.

  “I expect so.” Drealan did not look up from the chest, continuing his caress. “Have you opened it?”

  Sebastian shook his head, “No, we couldn’t figure out a way.”

  “Maybe I’ll be able to.”

  Laying her hand on the top of the chest, Krystelle interjected. “I think it might be best if we waited until we get it back to the Dazhberg.”

  “No,” said Sebastian, shaking his head. “We need to know what’s inside.” They locked eyes for a moment, doubt in hers mirroring the conviction in Sebastian’s.

  She nodded, “Okay. Do it.”

  Drealan laid both hands on the chest’s locking mechanism and chanted in a language foreign to Sebastian. It appeared at first that nothing was happening and Sebastian steeled himself for disappointment. Drealan continued to chant, his voice rising and the entire locking mechanism glowed a dull orange color. The chest shook and rattled as the glow increased. Drealan completed his incantation with a shout and the lock exploded, showering them with pieces of shrapnel.

  Opening the chest lid, Drealan reached inside an pulled out a heavy tome. Running his hand along the spine, the boy opened it to look at the first few pages. “At last,” he said. Closing the Chronicles, he held it, one hand atop, and one on the bottom. Looking up at Sebastian and Krystelle there was something in his stare that caused Sebastian to take a step back. “Thank you, I couldn’t have done it without you.” Before Sebastian’s eyes, the young boy standing before them grew taller and darker. A cold wind blew through, extinguishing their fire. “You two should be less trusting of strangers met on the road.” The laughter that rose was like ice to Sebastian’s bones. Backing away, he and Krystelle drew their swords. Not that they would do them much good. It was Radomil, one of the dark wizards who had taken Cenric from the Dazhberg.

  Krystelle started forward, raising her sword. “Damn you!”

  He raised a hand, stopping her in her tracks. “I should kill you both myself, but my master was clear that I should let our apprentice deal with the two of you.” The dark wizard whirled away from them and disappeared into the blackness as another figure emerged from the shadows.

  #

  Krystelle and Sebastian stood, transfixed as the dim figure came in to view. Krystelle gasped, “Cenric!” Gone was the ill-fitting tunic and perpetual smile. The boy they knew had been transformed. His cheeks were gaunt and his eyes haunted, he was garbed in a tight-fitting tunic of black. Round his neck lay an iron chain and, hanging from it, the blood-red Eligius Muliach. With him came a handful of swordsmen also in black, a stylized representation of the Dragonstone embroidered on their doublets.

  “Cenric!” Sebastian started toward him. Lifting his hand, the fledgling sorcerer uttered a word of power, sending a bolt of energy at his erstwhile friend. Unprepared for the attack, Sebastian staggered back at the impact. Dropping to a knee to recover his breath, he turned to Krystelle. “Can you keep those swordsmen off my back?” She nodded grimly, flexing her sword hand. Rising, he faced off against Cenric. The boy released another burst of light towards him. Prepared this time, Sebastian threw up one hand instinctively to deflect the attack. “Cenric, we don’t have to do this!”

  “Ahhh, but we do,” Cenric’s voice, once grating in its enthusiasm, now grated with an unholy resonance. The young wizard circled to his left, contemplating his next attack. Narrowing his eyes, he uttered another power word. Sebastian braced himself, prepared to defend against another bolt. When none materialized he relaxed for an instant before he realized that tendrils of the sand beneath his feet were crawling up his legs, pulling him down. Within a few moments, he found himself halfway engulfed in sand and beginning to panic. Cenric laughed, and the sound chilled Sebastian to the bone. “As you can see, my master has taught me much. You are not so much of a threat as he thought.”

  With sand to his armpits, Sebastian forced himself to relax and think. The one thing he knew about elven magic was that it worked in harmony with nature, in contrast to human spells. Looking down at the sand that now encased most of his body he willed it to become sand again. In his mind he saw it fall away. And then it did. He breathed a deep sigh of relief. “You’ll not find me such easy prey! Cenric, please…stop this. Come away with us. We can help you.”

  “And what makes you think I want or need your help? You all treated me as a weakling. Poor little Cenric. I know that’s what you thought. And then you abandoned me. Sterling Lex has shown me the way to true power. Not for me the years huddled at the feet of old men protecting their secrets, waiting for whatever scraps they deign to toss my way. Now prepare to meet your fate!” Uttering a longer spell this time, Cenric formed a ball of fire between his hands and sent it hurtling through the air.

  Fire and ice. The words echoed in Sebastian’s head. Even as they did, a shield of ice materialized before him. The fireball struck the wall of ice, melting it and extinguishing itself. A spray of water washed over Sebastian. “Perhaps you should call your pet dragon!”

  “Oh, fear not, he’ll come if he’s needed.” Cenric raised his arms to the sky and uttered yet another word of power. Sebastian peered upward, but saw nothing. He felt his skin tingling and his hair raising up on his head and arms. A trio of lightening bolts exploded around him in a concussion of light and sound.

  Sebastian found himself face-down in the sand, ears ringing. He blinked twice to clear the pink after-image obscuring his vision, only to find Cenric standing over him. Through the ringing he could hear the young sorcerer chanting, preparing to cast one final spell. Somehow, he knew he couldn’t let the boy cast that spell. Rolling onto his back, he pressed outward on air that solidified with his thought, sending Cenric sprawling and disrupting his spell casting. He hauled himself to his feet and lurched toward the sorcerer. “It is time to end this, Cenric!”

  The boy looked up at him, eyes blazing. “Yes, it is.” Gripping the Dragonstone, he closed his eyes as the stone glowed a bright red. Two words ripped from his mouth, “Cadeyrn Seaghda!” Sebastian could feel the power of those words as the world shook with their passing. He braced himself for this new assault, yet nothing happened.

  Then he heard it…Floomp Floomp Floomp…something was coming. He peered into the sky, his heart sinking. Distantly he could just make out the shape of a dragon against the s
tarlit backdrop. Turning back to Cenric, he saw the Dragonstone flaring with an inner fire. The stone, he realized, was allowing Cenric to control the dragon. Deep inside he knew that even the wild elven magic inside him could not stand against the wyrmm. He had to gain control of the stone, or at least break Cenric’s hold on the dragon.

  Closing his eyes, Sebastian focused his thought and his will on containing Cenric and breaking his hold on the dragon. He pressed his will around the boy and, as it closed in, he could feel the corruption Sterling Lex had planted in the boy. It was like reaching his hands into the slime of the pigsty back on his uncle’s farm. It was like an oily film that tried to infiltrate his mind, seeping in through any crack. Nausea rose in his belly at the feeling. Forcing it down, he could feel Cenric resisting his attack. He also knew the dragon was approaching, and he needed to end this.

  Redoubling his effort, Sebastian pressed in on Cenric’s mind. He could feel the Eligius Muliach as a throbbing kernel of energy. In his mind’s eye he saw the stone as a nexus of energies, red and orange, intersecting with a silver flame streaked with black oil. Three pulsating gray cables connected the stone to the sliver flame. He attacked the first cable, prying it from the Eligius. It snapped loose, its frayed end whipped about and retreated to the flame. He heard a howl of pain and sensed that the dragon was circling away. Two more to go.

  Power poured into the second cable, strengthening it. Spikes grew from the end and lodged themselves in the stone’s nexus. Sebastian reached out with a golden ray of light and drove it beneath the spikes, prying them away. First one, then the next. The cable darkened to ashen black as Cenric struggled to maintain the connection. It broke free, and the cable fizzled away to nothing.

  Sebastian turned his attention to the last cable. With the loss of the previous two, Cenric was pouring all his energy into this final connection. It was as thick around as the thigh of a strong man and had grown pitch black. The silver flame paled as life force flowed out to maintain the hold on the Eligius. Sebastian struck hard and heard the last cable break free with a snap. Cenric collapsed to the sand.