First Bennam… now Cid!
This is wrong, this can’t be right, they’ve made a mistake!
Her mind grabbed at possibilities, denying every word in the letter. Yet she looked over it again, and again. The date caught her eye…
Somewhere in her mind a piece of information was tucked away that made her ruffle through her purse. She pulled out Cid’s letter, checking the date.
It was written the day right after she left the barracks. The letter claiming Cid’s death was written just the next day after.
Impossible. The army would not have marched so soon and far less have been in any kind of peril at that time. There was only one other alternative;
thinking about Bennam and wondering whether someone was taking out the leadership of the Lanston army, murdering its commanding officers. Then again, that would have been city-wide news as well.
The entire operation would have been stopped!
No matter what this letter said she needed to make sure Cid was safe, she needed certainty. Body not recovered… if he was in danger then Elmira had to do something to get him out. As quickly as she could she wiped away the tears and steeled her resolve.
This is not over yet! Cid cannot be dead!
By the time she left the post office she knew exactly what she needed to do.
Chapter 19
The Summoner
A strange man was hovering over the soldiers’ bodies, exalting himself as healer to these men. He worked tirelessly to keep them alive, using all his skill to stop the bleeding and seal the wounds, mindful of infection.
A scattered collection of scrolls lay around him, bold-pressed foreign numerals of power written on them. Lighting the darkness was a lively campfire, a tiny pot of boiling water placed snugly in the coals on the side, its scent telling of herbs of some kind.
The man focused on one soldier in particular who had taken a crossbow bolt in the chest, his face deathly pale. That however was partly because of the healer’s arts. Upon realizing their rapid loss of blood the man placed their already unconscious bodies into an even deeper sleep; a cold one, so that everything could slow down. He did this for all except for the Colonel, who had taken but a light flesh wound and a big knock to the head.
The healer’s supplies were growing thin though, the Oltaisa syrup he used to create synthetic blood already spent. Should more wounded arrive the healer feared they would be beyond help if they were severe cases.
The man turned as he heard a soldier behind him groan. The Colonel was waking.
Cid woke, his head throbbing intensely for a few seconds and then dulled to a mild headache. Muddled at first, he sought to clear his senses and distinguish what his last coherent memory was. He opened his eyes.
Campfire and several sleeping bodies. Cid nudged himself upright with his elbows to sit.
Out of sight and near a cave, this is good. Grey stone… this must be Pale point. We’re far from the canyon though. Pretty deep into the forest actually…
Still disoriented Cid wondered where all his men had gone.
Three… there were but three soldiers lying around the fire. One of the men was Alex thankfully. Where are the others? Cid could see at least a dozen personal packs strewn around their rocky camp. Why did the group split?
A mage was attending the three sleeping soldiers’ wounds, and as the man moved on to Alex, Cid realized that he was not outfitted in the Lanston cloths. There was a foreignness about him that was unsettling.
Taking a closer look he saw that the healer wasn’t administrating the standard set of herbs and salve either, which laid suspicion in Cid’s mind. Till now the mage hadn’t even given him a single glance.
A Shadow Priest!? The thought rose suddenly and without merit - Cid quashed it. He was much more likely a wandering mage, albeit a strange place to wander. Sitting motionlessly, feeling tired, Cid studied the man’s method. For now he was merely dabbing at the raw boundaries of Alex’s arrow wound with a cloth soaked in a substance that stabbed at the nose.
Cid had seen the process a thousand times. A trained healer would, after containing the bleeding, sterilize everything, clean the wound, and then administer a soft fine herb cooked in boiling water that worked in tandem with a healer’s magicks.
Accelerated tissue regeneration was one of magic’s true virtues in the field of medicine and it often saved men that are doomed otherwise by severe wounds. In practice though even the best healers did not have precise control, rather they merely helped on the body’s natural processes, racing against infection, decay or blood loss.
Cid studied the healer. He was dressed in a common cut of a brown travelling tunic and trousers, his figure framed by a long grey cloak. At his side was his half-open pack, revealing some of his vials and scrolls. The man had a youthful face, despite the fact that his styled black hair had streaks of grey.
‘Healer, what’s your name?’ asked Cid.
‘Patience sir, give me a moment so that I may attend to this man,’ he answered without looking up.
The man’s voice had a certain authority about it and Cid was quick to question it.
‘Who are you? This is a war zone, no civilians are allowed in this area,’ said Cid, his mind swimming at the moment.
‘Take a while to gather yourself Colonel; I will explain the moment I finish this soldier’s wound,’ said the man, as though he had seen Cid rubbing at his temple.
The smell of the healer’s medicine grew stronger and Cid’s suspicion was fuelled.
‘What is that, Autemisciour?’ asked Cid impatiently.
The healer scoffed. ‘I’m trying to heal a wound sir, not decorate it. No, this is Ylrit, and it’ll do much better than anything you’ve ever heard of.’
The man was right; Cid had not heard of Ylrit before and was not a Kingdom approved healing substance for military use as far as he knew. Cid however was more concerned for Alex at the moment than anything else.
‘He will be okay right?’ asked Cid.
‘Colonel, they’ll all be playing soldier again in no time, that is to say if we don’t get tracked down and slaughtered,’ answered the man casually.
Cid was about to question the statement when something else struck him.
He watched in awe as the healer worked his magic, reading from one of the scrolls from his pack, his voice a low mystic chant. He kept his hand outstretched a spot above Alex’s chest to focus the magic. The process itself was not strange, but Cid witnessed in confusion as Alex’s wound recuperated perfectly, sealing shut in a manner that should have taken weeks.
Never before had Cid seen a healer who did not use stitches. Because the arts of healing were so fragile, the skin regrowth and soft tissues usually resulted in malignancy or excessive callus formations. Instead, healers used good old stitches to cross that bridge and make the magic a boon rather than a blunder.
Alex’s wound however was now perfectly healed without any stitching done, including the skin, only appearing paler against the backdrop of the rest.
Cid jumped up, sword in hand, pointing it at the crouching healer’s head.
‘Again healer! Who are you and what are you doing here!?’ asked Cid forcefully, his own latent distrust of magi surfacing.
The man stood up calmly and looked Cid right in the eyes, once again showing himself to be a powerful presence even with Cid’s sword inches away from his face.
It was a rare sight, and a first time for Cid. Magi, in some way or another, were oppressed in the Kingdom and were often expected to be humble and subservient.
There was nothing of that in the healer’s face or posture.
‘My name is Lidayel, and I am a Summoner.’
Cid’s eyes widened, barely able to resist ending the man’s life right there.
‘As for what I’m doing here? Well, I wish I knew for myself…’
Brunick walked wearily onto the scene from the trees, quickly catching Cid’s attention with a wave of his hands.
‘Ci
d, it’s okay, the man is a friend,’ said Brunick, realizing he was threatening the Summoner with his sabre.
The Colonel backed away as Brunick plunged down with his back to a rock. The big man wheezed, his face was pale and sweat covered.
Cid felt a great relief at seeing Brunick alive, swallowing hard at the fortunes of surviving what they did.
‘Where have you been Brunick?’ asked Cid, his mind still trying to get a grip on what happened.
Brunick shook his head at Cid.
‘The Fallen caught up,’ Brunick said disheartedly at Lidayel.
Clearly Brunick and this Lidayel had talked at some length while Cid was out.
‘Brunick, we were ambushed, how did we get here and where are the other men?’ asked Cid softly.
Brunick looked heavily up to Cid.
‘They are gone Colonel, we are all that is left. I knocked you out and played dead myself. When the Reavers made tracks I got back up, carrying you on my shoulder and Alex in my arms. Then I ran into Lidayel here. I wanted to kill him first too, but I needed to count on his help. I returned for more men while Lidayel started healing you guys here. I’ve been up and down four times, but when I got back now… well, the Fallen has covered the sight… we salvaged some packs as well… we’ll be needing the food…’ said Brunick, a rare sound of defeat in his voice.
Cid could not believe it. After how they fought; after defying the odds second after second. Cid could still hear the men’s cheers as Brunick decimated the Fallen with his axe. The men he had known and acquainted in these last few days; Matthew, Ariman, Olum… They were all gone now…
‘We failed,’ breathed Cid.
‘No we didn’t,’ growled Brunick.
‘I watched the battle from afar Colonel, I myself did not believe that you would make it out. You did everything you could.’
‘And you did nothing!’ bellowed Cid, ‘if you are a wretched Summoner why didn’t you help us then!?’
‘Keep your voice down Cid!’ growled Brunick.
‘I have some explaining to do,’ said Lidayel, as he found his seat at the other side of the fire. ‘Heed me Colonel, your troubles are larger than you might imagine.’
Chapter 20
A Tale of the Forgotten
All around was quiet as Lidayel’s voice and the crackling fire interchanged.
Summoners were the stuff of myth and legend, stories of their powers and origin always exaggerated only by a little bit. In a world of magic, Summoners were thought of as the be all, end all.
While magicians were human, Summoners were not, even though appearing as such, being much more powerful to begin with. Consequently they were even more despised and feared than normal magi; if in any setting Summoners couldn’t be controlled or subjugated to law, then they were hunted down and killed in most societies, that much wasn’t even debatable.
As Cid had heard once, less than a hundred Summoners still existed on the whole of Angaria in the present day. Personally, this was the first time Cid had ever even come into contact with a Summoner, and despite feeling liberal to magicians, finding a being such as Lidayel here of all places made him suffer a great unease.
Cid delved in himself to answer his discomfort and the conclusion was simple. Arumcas, the leader of the Dey’illumra and master of the Fallen, was a Summoner himself, and also the main reason why everyone in the Kingdom was highly distrustful toward their kind.
To add to their enigmatic existence Summoners could live to become hundreds of years old, and the way Cid understood it normal magi like Ariman could only practice their magical talents when released by a Summoner. A Summoner could thus, touch the soul of a talented human and stimulate his or her innate magical potential. They blossomed or awakened to magical powers, however way you want to put it.
It was this that made Arumcas an even greater threat, for there existed the scenario where power hungry magi would swore servitude to the Summoner in exchange for having their powers released.
‘I do not assume to know how much you understand about Summoners, but I’m guessing that you are not clueless on the subject. Even so feel free to interject if you have any questions. You should know that, in addition to being a Summoner, I’m also part of those called the forgotten, and I worked under the Conclave in Isa.’
Cid and Brunick remained silent, both of them had heard of the mysterious Forgotten; originally they were Summoners who suppressed their own memories and powers to escape Kingdom prosecution. However, with the Kingdom anointing its own council of Summoners the practice has grown ever more bizarre. Summoners deemed fit for fieldwork were often made to forget a certain amount of information in order to control them. Of course, speculatively, one had to wonder how much different the practice was in comparison with that of the Shadow Priests controlling the Fallen.
Cid and Brunick’s silence indicated for Lidayel to continue:
‘Some of us as you might’ve expected have been working in close tandem with the Kingdom’s special forces. They call on us, we remember, we operate, we return to report and then we are made to forget again. We remember much again with time, but for now all I recall of recent events is that of my wife and what we were doing here. I do have a functional memory though and I recollect as I interact. Also, the magic forcing down my memories fluctuates, so forgive me if I ever appear confounded or lost.’
‘Your wife is a Summoner as well?’ asked Cid.
‘Yes. We got separated a day ago. We we’re hunted by the Fallen and I’m afraid they might have captured her.’
‘You mean she couldn’t defend herself?’ asked Cid incredulously.
‘That’s just the thing; our magicks are estranged to us after we’re made to forget. To save your men I had to use all my healing scrolls, and this eclipse above us? It was my doing as well,’ said Lidayel.
‘You did this?’ asked Cid in surprise, pointing up into the sky, coming to rethink everything that had happened these last few hours.
Lidayel nodded.
‘This eclipse, was it a scroll also?’ asked Brunick.
‘Yes, one I had with me and the best I could use in the face of the Fallen. I have very limited control at the moment and sometimes I am not even able to call up any magic at all.’
‘But you can by using the scrolls?’ asked Cid.
‘Somewhat yes, the incantations on the scrolls allow me to release spells prepared pre-emptively by other Summoners or magicians. The specific energy is stored somewhere safe in world, and by reciting a unique phrase of ancient Tajeni languages it released and comes to my use. It is crucial for someone… in my position, ’ said Lidayel.
‘You know, this eclipse did a lot to help us in battle,’ admitted Brunick, looking up at the startling ceiling of darkness.
‘And still we lost all our men,’ said Cid bitterly.
‘I am sorry about that, but even as I watched you fight I was struggling to remember how to create even the simplest of magicks. For the eclipse, the healing, and this campfire I used scrolls, I could not help even though I sorely wanted to.’
‘You are here on a mission for the Kingdom?’ asked Cid.
‘Yes, it was an important investigation. The council of Summoners at Asheva thought they might’ve found a way to reverse the corruption that controls the Fallen,’ said Lidayel.
‘And they did!?’ asked Brunick before Cid could, both the soldiers aroused by the news. It was a matter close to the heart of every soldier; the only way to hate the Fallen was to know that they could not be healed and yet no one wished upon the Fallen the fate of irreversible servitude.
‘Yes in a way, but it isn’t practical - it only works on immediate victims. As you might know after a month or two the corruption starts degrading the victim’s brains. They typically lose crucial brain functions within fifteen months and then die any time afterwards.’
‘So you can heal fresh victims?’ asked Cid.
‘That we can, although it is a tiresome and sensitive process, and it’
s as likely to kill the person as it is to save him. We captured some stray Fallen scouts during the week, incapacitated them and healed them. They were all rather old Fallen though and died as the corruption was alleviated. Our hypothesis is that a younger victim should be able to make it and our spell itself could use some more refinement. The thing is though our experiments have stopped, we were working with the Kingdom, but not anymore,’ said Lidayel.
‘What? Why?’
‘There has been betrayal Cid, of that I have no doubt.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Brunick, raising his voice at Lidayel for the first time.
‘We were assigned to do research in this area and so I was thoroughly briefed on your march north. Just before me and my wife set out I was intercepted by a courier handing us a letter from Commander Bennam. We were under his jurisdiction from then on and he assigned us to specifically this part of the forest.’
‘So?’
‘Colonel, I have been monitoring this forest for more than a week now and from what I could gather the Fallen prepared their ambush on you meticulously. They have undeniably been forewarned and might’ve even been set out to particularly kill you and your men. What’s more is that I was designated to the very area of your ambush.’
‘I don’t…’
‘Someone sold you out for death Colonel, whether it is Commander Bennam or this new Commander Stelinger, I don’t know, but it is clear someone wanted you out of the way, and maybe me as well given the importance of the work we’ve been doing.’
‘Commander Bennam would never…’ started Cid.
It was so easy for Cid to suspect Stelinger and also so satisfying to think that he might be a bad seed after all. Yet Cid has known Stelinger for years now and he could always admit that Stelinger’s arrogance was rivalled by his loyalty toward the army and the Kingdom. As for suspecting Commander Bennam, that was downright ridiculous.
‘I think you are mistaken,’ said Cid.
Lidayel shook his head, ‘give the truth time to show itself Colonel, but until then I’d advice we move with caution.’
Remnant Pages Spearhead Page 15