The Orb of Wrath (The Merchant's Destiny Book 1)

by Nic Weissman

  “You have done a good job. I wanted to meet you. But first, I guess you have questions. This is your chance to make them,” the man said.

  The group members looked at each other. Thost took the initiative.

  “What was in the box?” he asked directly.

  The magician took a deep breath and began his story.

  “A long long ago, possibly the beginning of the Third Age, a powerful magician, tired of the constant battles and quarrels between the Republic of Rein, where he lived, and its neighbor, the Empire of the Nomads, decided he had to do something about it. He researched for a long time and collected powerful magical components to build a couple of artifacts. He sought two safe places on both sides of the border and there installed and activated said devices,” the wizard paused to look at them carefully and continued”. The orbs slowly caught the wrath of the people in the territory where they were and projected it to the opposite orb where it was stored. This produced a soothing and calming effect, reducing the tensions and quarrels between the neighboring borders. During the years when the orbs were active they had no relevant conflicts again and the magician thought he had reached his goal.”

  The old man got up and began to slowly walk behind his desk as he continued his story.

  “But, as it always happens with very powerful items, there were some restrictions. In this case if, for any reason, one of the orbs changed places or was simply turned off, then the connection between them was lost. At that moment, the deactivated orb would violently release all the accumulated anger over the territory in which it was located. In fact, this is exactly what happened, long after the death of the creator of the orbs. Someone accessed the orb that was located in the Republic of Rein and stole it. In the following days, a good part of the population, including women and young people, started crossing the border with a single purpose: to kill nomads. There was a terrible battle, but the total lack of preparation, coordination and planning led to the only possible outcome; a significant part of the population of Rein was annihilated. After that the orbs were lost. The legend then started talking about The Orb of Wrath, in the singular; a powerful object that could be used to cause wars. The knowledge of the original purpose of the orbs was lost in the annals of time,” Mengul said.

  The old wizard stopped and, after looking at them again very seriously, took his seat at his desk wearily.

  “For centuries the orbs were lost until a few years ago, we found out that one of them had appeared. We did not know where or how, but when the orb arrived on the scene, it could cause huge disasters. For over a year I've been researching intensely and with dedication to discover the location of the other orb. I had almost lost hope, when I got my hands on the inventory that an antique art expert had made to catalog all the valuables of a castle lost in the kingdom of Tylar, a couple of centuries ago. I was very happy, but not for long. A little later we realized that the new lord of the castle was very powerful; and even more dangerous. Fortunately we found this out just in time. A few weeks ago we learned that certain elements of the powers of Bor had the orb. I had little doubt what their intention was; to cause the onset of a war with Fugor. This could undoubtedly trigger a catastrophic series of events for the Kingdom. We had to send someone urgently to the castle to get the second orb. Meanwhile, preparations were made to find a secure location in Fugor and have everything ready before the first orb was activated,” said the wizard, finishing his story.

  Mengul smiled at them then. It was only for a moment, but Erion was sure he had seen a slight grimace of joy.

  “By now you will have realized that the second orb, we so urgently needed, was in that box,” said the old wizard.

  “What happens now with the orbs?” Ithelas asked.

  “They're both activated and cancel each other's action. At the same time, they are slowly draining the wrath of the Mark and of the border territory of Fugor. One of my partners has explained the situation to the marquis of Mositus. They know that if the orb is deactivated, the population of Mositus would attack Fugor in a suicide and crazy assault. A good part of the population would perish in the process. So, now it is the best interest of the Marquis to protect the orb and keep it active. Everything will be fine, but we need to ensure that no one finds the orb we have hidden in Fugor. Fortunately, the vast majority is still unaware of its existence which keeps it safe from our adversaries,” said the wizard.

  Thost sighed, while the rest of the group held its breath. They couldn't imagine that something so dangerous had almost happened. Erion almost felt guilty for having made reasonable efforts to loot the damn castle when such serious events had depended on them. The fate of Bor had been in their hands in this incredible trip to the other side of the world of Oris.

  “Why us?” Samar asked.

  “Why not? You displayed different abilities that made you useful. The success of your mission confirms the wisdom of our choice,” Mengul said.

  “And what do you get from this?” asked Mithir through Erion.

  “That doesn't matter,” Mengul answered. “Enough talk. It's time to drink,” he added.

  The strange semitransparent servant then came into the room carrying a tray with several glasses. Then he distributed among all of them except Phoroz, and left. Mengul raised his glass and was looked at them in the eye with a respectful gesture. When he finished, he drank the glass in one gulp and they all followed suit. It was an absolutely delicious wine. Erion could not remember ever drinking a wine even remotely close to that one. Thost, who obviously had much more experience in this area, also had serious difficulty remembering drinking a wine of this quality.

  “Well, let's talk business. If you're interested, I have a new mission for you. You'll have to travel far, and it will take more time than you spent in Tylar, but the rewards will also be much more substantial,” Mengul said. “Phoroz will inform you of the details. Now I must retire. Erion, could you come with me for a few minutes?” he added.

  Erion nodded surprised and stood up. He offered his arm to the old man who leaned on him and on his cane, and walked out of the room. The whole group followed them with their gaze until Phoroz began to speak.

  “This mission, should you decide to accept it, will take you to Darphem,” said the dark elf.

  “The kingdom of the dwarves!” they cried all at once.

  Phoroz walked to a shelf and took a scroll from it and spread it on the table. In it there was a design of a strange crystal ball mounted on a silver pedestal. It caught Mithir's attention the fact that the crystal ball had an oval shape instead of the usual spherical structure.

  “This is the Eye That Sees All. It is a powerful divination object and is the main objective of this mission. We have information that indicates that it may be in Nuberg, under the Sejemix massif,” said the dark elf as he stared at them with his disconcerting red eyes.

  “But that is in the heart of the world of dwarves. Outsiders are not welcome in that land. How do you expect us to get there? Will we have one of those teleportation scrolls?,” Thost asked.

  “The answer is no. You will not have scrolls to open portals. They are extremely hard to come by. You will have to travel by traditional methods. I could teleport you to the border of Norvik with Ellis, but then you would have to continue on your own means,” said Phoroz.

  “I appreciate it but it does not solve much. In addition, we would first like to go home and prepare for the mission, if we can go back there,” Ithelas said, really thinking about Ronu's health.

  The cleric would hate to go without being completely sure she was fully recovered before starting an adventure.

  “That's how we'll do it, then. When you reach Darphem, you will first go to Ram, a town at the entrance of the Kingdom. There you will try to get in touch with Kurbus. He is the gnome you saw with me the other day. He has good interaction with the dwarves and can help you move inside their territory. He may even help you get into the Kingdom under the Mountain. In any case, it will not be an ea
sy mission,” Phoroz said.

  “Why do you want the Eye?” Mithir asked, interested.

  Phoroz looked at him for a long time. He seemed to have doubts about how to respond.

  “It's the only way that we think will work to locate an adversary,” said the dark elf finally.

  Mithir felt there was much more behind all this, but realized that he would not give them more details.

  “You said that was the main objective,” Samar said.

  “Indeed. There's something else we'd like to achieve. If you manage to enter the Kingdom under the Mountain, try to reach Nortowich. Once there, go and see Ar'lumin, an old friend of Mengul. He will tell you what to do. Take up what he asks of you as if it was Mengul himself,” Phoroz said. “Your next question will be about the reward,” he added, guessing their intentions.

  Thost nodded but said nothing. The dark elf grabbed a bag from one of the magician's desk drawers and emptied its contents on the table. Several large, and perfectly transparent gems, rolled on the table.

  “Here are ten perfect diamonds. Each one is worth about five thousand gold coins. This will be your reward if you get the Eye. If you also complete Ar'lumin's assignment, you will get four additional diamonds,” the dark elf said.

  Phoroz then pulled another bag from his pocket and handed it to Thost.

  “Here there are a thousand platinum coins. It is only an advance, and you can also consider it part of your pay,” he added as he picked up the diamonds and saved them again carefully.

  Mithir gestured to Ithelas said he would accept the order and knew that he spoke for Erion also in this regard. Thost chatted briefly with Samar and Ithelas and soon came to a conclusion.

  “We accept the mission,” the knight declared solemnly.

  ******

  Erion accompanied the wizard to a very small room that was at the end of the hall. When they entered the door closed. With a gesture from the magician, a sphere floating in the middle of the room lit up, revealing a well in the center of the room, with a structure that reached almost a step high and where the water came up to the edge. The wizard then pointed to the well, looking at Erion, and waited.

  Erion approached the well and saw his face reflected in the water. After a moment, strange images began to form. There was a battlefield on a rainy afternoon. Erion was dressed in a light armor that was damaged in several places. His clothes, which seemed something like a campaign uniform, were torn on the sleeves and on one leg. Missiles rained in all directions while Erion tried to wipe the mud and rain off his face, otherwise they hindered his vision. In his right hand he held a beautiful short sword. That edge... those engravings; the young man was sure he had seen the sword before, but did not know where. A huge flaming projectile, fired from a catapult, struck the ground just a few steps away from Erion, crushing two unfortunate soldiers. Erion felt heat in his face. It was a very real sensation, almost like being in that place.

  The image suddenly clarified. He was in a brighter place. He immediately recognized the courtyard of the orphanage where he had grown up. A small, weak child was at his side. It was Mithir! They both ran to hide behind a pillar while two sisters came into the yard screaming their names.

  The image changed again. He was in a field of colorful flowers. It was a spring morning. The landscape was not completely familiar to him, but it was not strange either. It didn't seem to be Bor. Erion ran following a girl with long, dark hair. She wore a very nice violet dress. Her skirt described poetic flights over flowers while he was still laughing, without reaching her. He did not see her face. The image went dark.

  Now he was in a huge cavern. The roof had to be forty steps high, maybe more. Although it was dark, he saw huge eyes at the back. Each was the size of a human adult. They were bright, intelligent, telling and terrible eyes. Erion panicked before that presence. A huge flash of fire, like a torrent spread at lightning speed, shot toward the end of the cave where Erion was. The silhouette of a huge dragon was drawn for an instant.

  The image changed again showing a spacious lounge. Now he was sitting at a desk chatting with two men. Erion noticed the decor. It was incredibly rich and full of watermarks. Gold, silver and precious stones sparkled at every corner. Then the young man remembered his dream. He could swear that this room was in the same richly decorated building he had dreamed of days ago. The image stopped and the young man returned to see his face on the water.

  “What was that all about?” he asked, still impressed as he turned toward Mengul.

  “The future, your future... maybe. You see, the future is always in motion, conditioned by events and by certain interventions. Tell me, what have you seen?” the old man asked.

  Erion described the five scenes, one by one. The young man explained that the orphanage seemed to be an image of his past that he vaguely remembered; but he did not think he had been in any of the other places. The magician looked at him very seriously.

  “You say you have seen a dragon in a huge cavern? Could you see the color of his scales?” asked the wizard, suddenly interested.

  “No. I could see his eyes and little else. They were terrible,” said the young man.

  Mengul gave his penetrating gaze and understood that Erion described exactly what he had felt.

  “There's something else. The office reminded me of a dream I had not long ago,” said the young man.

  The wizard asked, urgently, to tell him all the details that reminded him of the dream. He asked if he had other strange dreams that made him feel a similar sensation. Erion then recounted the dream of the swamp.

  “What does this mean?” asked the young man.

  Mengul walked briefly around the room looking down without answering. Finally he stopped and looked at him again.

  “Erion, I must confess something. I had already seen you. Some months ago the well showed me your face. Since then I've been trying to find you, something that I only recently managed. The water showed me a vision of a scene in which you visited me in this tower. I asked for your help with something. Then the image changed and I saw a path. Some misfortune had happened. I could see a broken wheel of a cart. A three year old child was alone in the middle of the road, crying. Suddenly a lantis came down from heaven and descended to where the little child was,” said Mengul.

  Erion then recalled some of the stories of his childhood. The lantis appeared often in these stories. They are also known by the name of the Fairies of Heaven and they lived in the Sphere of the Firmament with Oris and the other gods. Occasionally, Oris gives some of them a mission in the world; usually to help someone very kind or someone who had been appointed by the gods for some reason.

  “The lantis felt great pity and compassion for the little boy and gave him a drink of milk. Then she led the way to somewhere else. The vision ended.”

  “Who do you think that child was?” Erion asked.

  “Well, you, naturally,” said the wizard.

  A wave of strange sensations flooded the young man's mind. Somehow he knew the old man's answer before he heard it. He did not remember ever having seen a lantis, however, the scene that the magician just described was not entirely unknown to him. One of the great mysteries of Erion's life was to know the details of his origin. The sisters had told him that a sheriff had found him wandering along the roads on the outskirts of the city with tattered clothes and had brought him directly to the orphanage. Erion never regained those clothes or anything he was wearing when he was found and never knew any other clue about his origin. If the history he had been told was true, perhaps he hadn't been abandoned by his parents. Perhaps it had only been an accident. A thought crossed his mind at the speed of lightning. Perhaps his parents were alive somewhere, still mourning their lost son.

  “The well doesn't show everything; just what we need to know, but I'm convinced that you were the child of that vision. I also believe that, in a real or figurative way, you have been appointed by the gods for a special destiny. And that I will play some role in that
destiny. But that's all we're allowed to know at this time,” said the wizard enigmatically. “The visions and prophetic dreams are extremely rare in most mortals, with the exception of two groups; the Visionaries and the Chosen Ones. The first are those who have an innate ability for divination; in some religions they are also called prophets. The Chosen Ones are a much smaller group. They are marked by the gods for a special destiny. As I said, I am convinced that you are part of that second group, and the fact that you've had these dreams only reinforces that notion,” he added.

  It was a lot of information to absorb. Erion explained how the office of the well vision is much like the ornamentation he had seen in another one of his dreams. Mengul said that this confirmed that the dream had been premonitory.

  “In general, trust your feeling. If you sense that the dream was different from an ordinary dream, it is most likely so,” he said.

  “And now that?” asked the young man.

  “I don't know. You also write your own story. At the moment you have a mission that your colleagues have just accepted. I suggest that you meet with them and set yourself up.”

  Erion nodded thoughtfully, still pondering the meaning of it all.

  “One more thing. In your journey you will have to go through Ellis, the land of the elves. You may find The White Lady. If this happens, consider it a great gift. Listen carefully to what she has to say,” the wizard warned enigmatically.

  “But how do we find her?” Erion said.

  “Nobody finds the Lady. She will seek you, if she deems it appropriate.”

  “How will we recognize her?” Erion insisted.

  The wizard smiled slightly.

  “I can assure you that when you are before the Lady, you will know,” Mengul responded. “Now, leave.”