“Where did you get this?”
“My grandmother gave it to me when I was born. It’s been in the family for generations.” He pulled away from her, embarrassment from her touch sparking over his body.
“Do you know how powerful it is? Or what it does?” Her voice was awestruck and wispy.
“Of course, it protects me.”
“Do you know from what…or whom?” She questioned him like she already knew the answer, and was trying to figure out if he was privy to the information.
“Magic-hunters? Gran said they can’t sense my ability if I have it on.” The alchemist absentmindedly rubbed his thumb over the inlaid gem. “Honestly, I think she was just trying to scare me.”
“Your Gran spoke the truth. That talisman belonged to a very powerful man—and kept him safe. You wearing that amulet around your neck tells me you are of noble blood.”
A chill ran down Ryris’ spine. All these years he had secretly hoped that all the protection talk was just hooey, even though he dutifully did as he was told and never removed the amulet. He never wanted to believe he was in any real danger of being found out if it failed to be on his person.
“Noble? Me?” He tried not to laugh as he dabbed a bit of antiseptic on his cut. He hissed at the sensation before continuing. “I come from a long line of alchemists. There’s nothing noble about us.”
“That charm had a very important role in the war.”
Ryris couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His situation—their situation—just kept getting stranger by the minute. But, he was desperate to hear more. “Who was he? Why did he need the amulet?”
“He was the highest-ranking wizard of the empire. And…his name was Ryris.”
The amulet on his chest warmed up for a split-second at the mention of his name, almost undetectable to the young alchemist.
“When you introduced yourself earlier, I thought it was just coincidence.” Kaia sat back onto a log, across from him. “Your destiny was sealed the moment your grandmother put that chain around your neck.”
Ryris thought back to what the old fortune teller had told him. That his name was old—and meaningful. At the time he had brushed it off as nonsense, the old woman likely trying to get more gamm out of him. But now, with Kaia’s revelation, he was beginning to see an air of truth to this whole ‘destiny’ business. He poked the fire with a stick as he listened.
“During the war, each side had a battalion of battle-mages providing both offensive and defensive support. The Arch-battlemage kept watch and advised his warriors, as well as fought right on the front lines. When the enemy forces killed our ally’s high wizard, it was decided that ours needed to be protected at all costs. An amulet was created—one that was imbued with special properties that would ensure his magical ability would never be sensed. He bravely fought until the end of the war, the enemy blind to who he truly was.”
“And you think…”
“You’re of his bloodline, there’s no doubt.”
Ryris sat in quiet reflection for a moment. He had just learned about an ancestor—one that had been forgotten across time. He felt sad for the man, his history left to the wind, his memory all but dust. But at the same time, he was excited to know that he shared a name with such a powerful and respected person. “So, what happened to him? After the war?”
“I don’t know. He exiled himself shortly after it ended. He knew, just like we did, the danger would still be there for anyone who openly used magic.” Kaia sighed. “When I saw the amulet around your neck, I was hopeful he was able to live a normal life. But the fact that you know nothing about him suggests that he probably spent the rest of his life in solitude.”
“But then how did my Gran get the amulet?”
“That’s a secret for the ages.” Kaia smiled softly. “It’s safe and that’s all that matters.”
“I guess…” Ryris mused, suddenly very curious about Kaia’s war. He thought for a few seconds, before being struck by an idea. “Can I show you something? I mean, we’ve got time…” Ryris pointed toward the cave mouth, snow blowing in on raging wind.
“I suppose.”
Ryris got up and fetched the book from his knapsack. When he returned, he took a chance and sat down next to her. He hoped she wouldn’t be uncomfortable. “Gran and I spent hours looking at this. Maybe there’s some clues about the other Ryris inside? Or about the amulet?”
“I thought you said you’ve read this countless times.”
The alchemist looked down at the cover, an embarrassed smile crossing his lips. “She never let me go past a certain part. Said it would scare me.”
“And now?” Kaia gave him a skeptical sideways glance.
“To be honest, the book got put away after she died. I just recently came across it.” He set the book across his lap, bumping Kaia’s leg. “Tell me about the Old War?”
“’Old War...’? Ryris, just how much time has passed?”
“It’s been over seven-hundred years.” He watched her closely for a reaction. Would she cry when she realized how much time had passed, understanding that everyone she ever knew and loved had been gone for centuries? Would she be furious for being kept secluded for all that time?
“I see.” Her expression was thoughtful, her voice meek.
Definitely not the reaction Ryris was expecting, he tried to keep the conversation going. Opening the tome, he flipped to the page that showcased a garrison of soldiers clad in crystal. The paper was torn at the edge, grimy from years of being touched. “This was my favorite part.”
Kaia stared at the image intently. Ryris could see the emotion in her eyes as her lips curled into a small, prideful smile. “That’s the Crystal Guard. We were elite warriors, bonded by honor and entrusted to keep the world safe.”
“I knew it…” Ryris’ breath hitched in his chest as her admission tumbled around in his brain. Everything his grandmother had told him, and everything Maxx had tried so hard to make him forget, was true. To hear it come from her mouth was incredible. “You really are one of them. It wasn’t just a fairytale.”
“Far from it.” Kaia turned the pages, flipping through until she got to the image Ryris detested. He looked away momentarily before forcing himself to gaze at the undead warrior. If the woman sitting beside him actually fought these things, he could muster looking at a painting on a page.
“What was it like?” Ryris posed the question; even though he wasn’t sure he truly wanted to hear the answer.
“Terrible. We were fighting a madman, bent o—“
“…that Lyrax guy?”
Kaia huffed at Ryris’ interruption. “Yes, ‘that Lyrax guy’. He was bent on destroying that which he had been shunned for.”
“I’m going to go out on a limb and guess magic?”
“Partly. Before the war, magic was part of everyday life. Users and non-users alike co-mingled. Magic was utilized in abundance, with no shame or stigma attached—at least not for common magic.”
“What do you mean?”
“As a teen, Lyrax fell into league with a band of necromancers. We may have embraced magical ability, but necromancy was a dark art and most certainly not accepted by honorable society. His parents begged him to leave the coven, but he refused and soon rose within their ranks. He was obsessed with death.” Kaia sighed knowingly. “Left with no other choice, they went to their king, a magic user, for help. He sent agents to hunt down and arrest the young man. The soldiers destroyed the necromancers, leaving only Lyrax and a few others alive. When he was brought back to the kingdom, the royal advisors recommended execution, but his parents begged that mercy be shown for their only child—and the king banished him to the far reaches of their continent, Ashal. In hindsight, it was the greatest mistake he would ever make.”
Ryris shuddered at the mention of the ‘ghost country’. No one went there, for history said the land was poisoned and uninhabitable—the reason lost to time. “He came back?”
“With a vengeance. He spent
the next thirty-odd years getting stronger, perfecting his bastard ‘art’. Not only did he eventually raise his fellow necromancers from the grave, but methodically went through the sacred cemeteries of the people and raised an army. No one paid any attention because they ignorantly thought the threat had been dealt with.” A small, disbelieving huff tumbled from her lips. “He was working right under their noses the entire time and no one even noticed. By the time he marched back to the heart of the kingdom, he had amassed legions of undead warriors armed with cursed weapons. They were unstoppable.
“Communication was very limited, and our people had no idea of the horrors that started far away. It wasn’t until the armies of the undead came to our shores that we realized—almost too late. Envoys were sent from both Farnfoss and Zaiterra to Ashal, only to find the king and queen had been killed and that Lyrax had claimed the throne. He vowed to rid the world of all other magic-users and ‘cleanse’ the continents. For us, the war started the moment his zombie soldiers took their first victim on our land.”
She kept turning pages until she stopped at one Ryris had never seen. The image sent chills up his spine. A peasant woman, begging for her life as an undead warrior pierced her heart. Further down the page, she reappeared—reanimated by unholy magic.
“He killed his own people…”
Kaia nodded solemnly. “All of them. Thousands of innocents, murdered for the sole purpose of invading and destroying. Men, women—even the children. All turned into rotting soldiers. Lyrax knew they’d never fight of their own free will. Most were killed quickly, with no idea of what their futures held. But those who openly opposed him were tortured and told what was to become of them. They knew their fate. The oblivious were lucky. They had no memory of what they once had. But the people who knew they would be turned? Lyrax corrupted their minds so they would remember their former lives while they mowed down their fellow countrymen.
“By the time my garrisons were called into action, the hordes had swept across the land. The soldiers of good—magicians and infantry alike—were of dwindling numbers. We had no choice but to fight. We enjoyed a short-lived period of victory, as the zombies weren’t prepared for such formidable foes. But, they adapted quickly—and Lyrax made use of a secret weapon.”
“Secret weapon?”
“The former king. Imbued with terrifying power, his reanimated corpse infiltrated the ranks, passing on incredible dominance as he swept toward the front lines. Magic the likes of which no one had ever seen. He razed villages with the flick of his wrist, slaughtered families with horrifying efficiency. Lyrax even gave him the ability to shift his shape, which he used with terrifying results.”
“And all because he hated wizards?”
“He hated what he thought other wizards had done to him. Banishment. Shame. Dishonor. He promised vendetta on those who had wronged him—innocents in the way be damned. He wanted to be the one and only wizard left—so no one would ever threaten him again. By the end of his march across the world, he had lost sight of that initial reasoning, I think, and had his eyes on a bigger prize.”
“Complete destruction?”
“He wanted the world for himself and his undead hordes. A new utopia—a horrifying utopia. His obsession with death reached a fever pitch, and his insanity overtook any last shred of his mind that might have remained.”
“But you obviously beat him, right? I mean, I’m here aren’t I? The world is peaceful.”
Kaia sighed and closed the book. “We were victorious, but at a terrible price. Thousands perished before we could claim peace. Yes, we destroyed him, but the damage had been done. His vision of a world without magicians had been achieved. By the time the war ended, magic users were being blamed by proxy for something a madman had done. The magic that saved the people was now under scrutiny. Wizards went into hiding; parents shamed their progeny who were born ‘cursed’.”
Ryris’ shoulders slumped. Cursed.
“We tried to make the citizens see the light. With Lyrax gone, our focus shifted on rebuilding—not just physical cities, but also morale. The moment we threw him in the volcano, we hoped people would come to their senses and stop blaming wizards. We were wrong.”
“Wait, you threw him in a volcano?”
“Like I said, war is terrible. That’s another story for another time.” She shifted her weight, extending her legs out in front of her with a grunt. “In order to ensure there would be protectors should the need ever arise again, the remaining Crystal Guard commanders were secretly entombed to await destiny.”
“There’s that word again, ‘destiny’.”
“Don’t be so quick to dismiss it, Ryris.”
“It’s just so far-fetched. I mean, I come from a scientific background. There’s no ‘wishing’ a potion will turn out right, or hoping some mystical force will strengthen its potency. It either works, or it doesn’t. You adjust recipes and techniques and try again until you’re successful. I guess it’s hard for me to put faith in some invisible force guiding my life path.”
“Sometimes you have to let go of your critical thinking and act on instinct.”
“Acting on instinct usually gets me into trouble.” Ryris couldn’t help but laugh quietly at himself.
“Oh? Should I be afraid to be in your company?”
“Well, I do have a knack for attracting predators.” He motioned to the charred saberstrike carcass and burned wall.
“You did that?”
He nodded and looked down at his hands. “Two boys from the village told me about you, and offered to show me your chamber. While we were exploring, we got cornered by that saberstrike. I had to do something.”
“You have incredible potential, Ryris. If you study diligently and are willing to learn, you can harness any type of magic you desire.”
He looked at her, questioningly. “I can learn other powers?”
With a flick of her wrist, lightning crackled across the ceiling, causing Ryris to duck down to avoid being hit. When he realized the electricity was far enough away not to cause harm, he cautiously sat back up, embarrassed. As the charge dissipated, Kaia turned her attention to the fire. Pointing a finger at the flames, they instantly turned to solid ice, crackling as the heat was wicked from the surrounding area. The alchemist couldn’t believe his eyes. He was mesmerized by her power. After a minute, she reignited the flames by tossing a sparkling fireball into the pit.
“That was incredible!”
“Magic has a very important role in everyday life…at least, it did. There were magically-created fires in every blacksmith’s forge and ice in every summer cache to keep food from going bad. Warriors on the battlefield were supported by wizards talented in the defensive arts, their weapons charmed for superiority by battle-mages.” She pointed to his hands. “Show me what you can do?”
Ryris stared at his fingers clenched in his lap, unsure if she should oblige her. His brain was screaming at him to refuse, that he’d already done enough damage by letting the Lythe boys see his powers. Even though he trusted Kaia even after such a short time, his stomach still churned at the thought of outing himself further. He glanced at his new friend, the woman waiting patiently for his display.
Finally taking a deep breath, he held out his palms, in much the same way she had done. Concentrating, he made a small flame appear on each one of his ten fingers, before melding them together a large ball. He tossed it into the fire, where it sizzled and joined its brethren.
“Not bad…”
“Until last week, I had only used it to start the hearth and annoy my father. Then all hell broke loose and I outed myself in front of those boys.”
“Does anyone else in your family have the gift?”
A wave of sadness washed over him. “My mother…” He hesitated, not sure if he wanted to continue. “…she had magic too.”
“Had?”
“Her name was Adriane. She could freeze things with her fingertips. I remember once when I was small; she stuck a stick into a
cup of pellick juice and froze it.” Ryris’ lips curled into a small smile, sad and reminiscing. “When I was six…she died. Killed.”
“War?”
Ryris shook his head, his voice low. “Cold-blooded murder. My father was convinced it was because of the magic, but never told anyone his suspicions to protect my mother’s identity—and mine.”
“May I ask what happened?”
He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he wanted to scratch open that old wound. Yes, he was beginning to trust Kaia, but he still hardly knew her, and didn’t know how much he should be telling her. She looked at him with honest, caring eyes, no hint of malice or mistrust, and in the end he decided he would let her in. Maybe, he thought, it would actually do him some good to get this history off his chest.
The alchemist sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging. “It was nighttime. This man, a nameless traveler, broke in, knocked my father out and pulled her right out of their bed. I shared a room with my Gran, and she had been snoring—so I went to sleep in front of the fireplace in the kitchen. When he smashed the door from the shop open, I hid under the table.” Ryris paused and willed himself not to get emotional. “He stabbed her. I don’t know how many times. There was…blood…everywhere. She only had time to scream once.”
Moisture welled in Ryris’ eyes. It had been decades since he had relived that night. He wasn’t sure he wanted to continue, but he knew if he didn’t, it would keep haunting him. “Grildi, the town guard, came in while the guy was still there, I think he probably heard my mom scream or saw the broken-in shop door. He snapped the guy’s neck, so the mayor never had a chance to interrogate him. Grildi always felt terrible for acting so hastily and not being able to protect us. I know it still hangs over him.
The Alchemist: Dawn of Destiny Page 18