The D'Karon Apprentice

by Joseph R. Lallo

  “As do I. You are a man of considerable insight for one of so few years.”

  “Ha!” he said with a wide grin. “And you have a way of making an old man feel young again.”

  “You will inform the rest of the delegation of my departure?”

  “Of course. Do not let us keep you from your task.”

  Ether did not waste another moment on the painful delays of protocol and pleasantries. She shifted sharply to a whirling mass of wind and whisked through the nearest loose shutter, leaving her pad in the hands of the startled and uneasy Stefan.

  A feeling of unbridled liberation flooded her. Again the very air that enrobed the world mixed with consciousness, flowing through and around her. Thus freed of the burdensome form, her mind was free to pore over the tainted remnants of the horrid spells she’d been made aware of. Her first act would be to identify the proper destination. She could sense that Myranda and Deacon were headed quickly for one of the sources of such blight, and there was some talk about how her presence in the south might be problematic. That mattered little to her. If she had reason to do so, she would have few qualms about journeying to Tressor to investigate. But the workings in the north were far fresher and far closer to the proper casting of the spells. They were her greatest concern. Ivy, for all of her flaws, had investigated one of the most recent and abundant upwellings of magic. Though that fort and its well of dark workings would likely benefit most from her investigation, Ivy at least knew intimately of the D’Karon and their treachery. There was one point of concern that had been seen to only by mortals. It was the point farthest to the north, the capital. As she tried to focus on it, she felt as though this place had by far the greatest stain of magic. Portals to and from that place had opened more than once, and to different positions. It was the greatest incursion, and for that reason warranted the eye of the most skilled member of the Chosen.

  She set her course for the Castle Verril and poured on as much speed as she could muster, whisking though the morning air and watching fields of white, silver, gray, and green rush by beneath her.

  The first riddle solved for now, Ether could muse upon the more troubling matter of how she had failed to detect these spells.

  I’ve spent too much time out of my native form. It has muddled my thinking. That must be the problem, she thought. As often as I’ve taken Emilia’s form…

  Ether paused. No. Not Emilia’s form. My human form. There is no connection to that woman beyond the aesthetic. It is pointless to think of it as anything but an assumed appearance. And regardless, I’ve assumed the form so often it is simple, comfortable. It shouldn’t limit my perception of such things. Yet there can be no doubt that having returned to a more appropriate form I can think more clearly, sense the world more directly. Yes… yes, I’ve simply numbed myself to the limitations of the form. In the future I shall forgo assuming human form, and such matters will no longer slip my notice.

  For a few moments, and a few dozen miles, the answer had been obvious and satisfactory, but realization soon robbed her of the comfortable feeling of having solved this more troubling puzzle.

  I’d been in the form of flame, replenishing myself all night. My mind should have been as clear then as it has ever been. And yet I had to be informed…

  She considered the long night crackling in the hearth and the things that had occupied her mind during that time. As was too often the case, she’d been dwelling on the gnawing emptiness with her. The void left by the loss of Lain and the loss of her purpose. Cold realization poured over her as she finally grasped how deeply her mind and soul were stained by these petty mortal needs. A solution needed to be found before she slipped any deeper into the bleak state of mind that had driven her to this malaise. This void needed to be filled or else cut away. She needed to be rid of the longing and listlessness before she was rendered the same useless tangle of doubt and confusion that all mortals seemed to be.

  This worrying preoccupation with her own preoccupation made the remainder of the journey seem to pass in no time at all, though traveling as the wind meant that such was not far from the truth. Dawn had only just finished breaking when her windy form pulled together into a roughly human shape in the courtyard of Castle Verril. Out of reflex and habit, she quickly resumed her human form, a fact that brought an irritated scowl to her already stern expression. It would be a difficult matter to train herself not to resort to humanity as a default form. She briefly considered whisking back to wind, or perhaps choosing stone or flame, but the palace was meant for creatures of roughly human form, and therefore it was simpler for now to remain as one, lest she risk igniting tapestries or crumbling stone underfoot.

  “Oh! Guardian Ether!” said a uniformed guard, a young woman startled by Ether’s sudden appearance. She gave an awkward bow. “We are honored by your presence.”

  “Are you the individual responsible for investigating the recent so-called D’Karon appearance?” Ether asked.

  “No, Guardian, I—”

  “Then summon the person responsible. I am neglecting other duties to see to this matter, and I do not wish to do so for any longer than necessary.”

  “Of course, Guardian Ether,” the woman said, scurrying off.

  Ether paced forward, crossing the courtyard of the palace and approaching the entry hall. It was unusually busy for so early in the morning, both servants and guards scurrying this way and that, each pausing to offer her a bow and an honorific-laden greeting. When she stepped from the icy, snow-dusted courtyard to an entry hall that was moderately less so, the severity of the situation was finally made clear.

  A sizable portion of the entryway had collapsed. Centered on the left wall was a jagged hole, the stone around which was pulverized. Fractures were scattered about the opposite wall where fragments of debris had struck with great force, and a small section of the high ceiling had collapsed. The hall was normally draped with priceless banners and carpets, but they’d all been cleared away, no doubt to either repair the damage they’d received in the attack or to get them out of the elements lest they suffer greater damage. Though the lion’s share of the mess had been cleared away and masons were already cutting stone to perform repairs, the rosy light of morning still shown through the narrow fault in the roof. A dusting of snow drifted lazily through the hole, floating to the floor, where it was quickly swept away by broom-bearing servants.

  The shapeshifter stood in the center of the room and closed her eyes, opening her mind to a scene that was if anything more devastating. This place was stinking of D’Karon magic. Such had long been the case. The center of the apparent explosion had been the personal chamber of General Bagu, the most loathsome of the D’Karon generals, for decades. It would be years before his tainted influence could be cleaned from the astral fabric of this place. But now there was a new layer to the wretchedness. A fresh spell, flawed but enthusiastically cast by a mind well suited for such things.

  “Guardian Ether. It is my great shame to be meeting you under these circumstances,” remarked a voice from the door leading to the throne room.

  Ether turned to see the pristine, angular features of an elf. Even by human standards he would have been a young man. By elven standards he was practically a child. His hair was just less than shoulder length and looked like spun gold. The uniform he wore was an interesting one. It was finely tailored and dyed all three shades of Alliance blue, but was otherwise neither ostentatious nor ornate. Emblems on the shoulder and cuff identified him as a captain, but no medals, sashes, or ribbons were pinned or sewn in place, and it was layered for warmth. It was the garb of a respected soldier, but moreover a soldier who had work to do.

  “Captain Croyden Lumineblade,” he said, bowing before offering a hand and a crisp smile.

  Ether glanced at the offered hand but ignored it.

  “I believe we met briefly at the coronation reception,” Croyden said, lowering his hand but maintaining the cordial demeanor.

  “Yes,” Ether said brusquely.
“You were the queen’s handler that day. And her plaything since, if I understand correctly.”

  His smile became brittle. “Ah. Well, I am pleased that the impression I had of you at that time remains an accurate one.”

  “I am eternal. My attitude does not change with time.”

  “Evidently.”

  “Tell me what happened here.”

  “What happened here was nothing short of an attack on the capital. A message was delivered via the enchanted booklet provided by Deacon that an invader may have infiltrated the capital. For many hours guards were on high alert, but no outsiders were identified until a voice was heard within Bagu’s chamber. The seal had not been broken, and there is no other way into the chamber.”

  “Portal magic. It should have been plainly obvious that any portal would open directly into Bagu’s chamber.”

  “A matter that we would have been mindful of if any but the D’Karon had insight into their spells.”

  “Clearly I have insight into their spells.”

  He almost imperceptibly gritted his teeth. “Perhaps the Guardian would be willing, in the future, to take the time to share this insight, such that we might better defend the capital. Shall I continue?”

  “Yes.”

  “We opened the door and immediately a woman within assaulted the palace guards with magic. She did not appear to be of sound mind, and demanded silence. We summoned the palace mystic to defend us, but she was woefully outclassed. At that point the attacker subdued her and began to demand information of the mystic before retreating into the chamber. Moments later there was an explosion, killing several guards and injuring many more. The attacker and the mystic are still missing.”

  “What information was she seeking?”

  “The handful of guards who survived the blast was understandably shaken.”

  “Stop making excuses for their infirmities and answer the question,” Ether said.

  Any semblance of respect, or even patience, slipped from Croyden’s face. “They feel certain that she was seeking some manner of portal, and there was some talk of the Chosen, for which she had another name. The adversaries.”

  “Mmm…”

  “Regardless of claims to the contrary, I believe we are dealing with a surviving member of the D’Karon.”

  “That is because you are a weak-minded fool who does not understand the plainly obvious.”

  “Then explain the nature of this attack, and the fact it was so successful, if it was not performed by skilled sorcerers intimately familiar with our defenses?”

  Ether waved her hand. “This is not an attack. And it is certainly not the work of a skilled sorceress. At least not as skilled as she might be. The D’Karon portal spells always spilled off energy when closed. This one was miscast. It was inefficient. And no D’Karon, certainly not a well-trained one, would ever sully such a spell in such a way. Take me to these survivors. I need to question them directly.”

  Croyden straightened. “No.”

  “I was not requesting permission.”

  “And that’s just as well, because I am not granting it. Those men are still recovering. Some may not last the day. There is nothing you could ask them that I have not already asked, and I refuse to allow their last memories of this world be of you and your open contempt for them simply by virtue of their perceived inferiority. You are a Guardian of the Realm. Anywhere else your authority would surpass my own. But within this palace, and when the queen is away, my word is law and my decisions are final. I shall continue to treat you with the respect owed to your title. But that is the only respect you shall receive, and it is entirely undeserved.”

  “If your respect is to my title then you may as well abandon it,” Ether said. “Titles are meaningless.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Then am I to believe you would have me treat you as I would an equal?”

  “Of course not. I am superior to you and you will treat me as such.”

  “Then why disparage the title?”

  “Because my superiority is innate, not bestowed. Now take me to these survivors, or step aside and I shall find them myself.”

  Croyden widened his stance and folded his arms. “Ask your questions. If I do not have the answers you seek, then I will ask the men myself.”

  Ether narrowed her eyes. “You are stubborn and strong willed.”

  “Necessary qualities. I run the palace while the queen runs the kingdom. If not for a strong will, chaos such as this might well be an everyday occurrence.”

  “You do realize that I could easily cast you aside and question them regardless of your will.”

  “Not nearly as easily as you suppose. What are your questions?”

  Ether took a breath. “Describe the appearance of the spells she cast.”

  “Her magic was bathed in violet light and often took the form of summoned strings of an impossibly strong black material.”

  “How old was this woman?”

  “She was human and described as old for a mother or young for a grandmother. I would place her age at not more than forty years.”

  “Was she accompanied?”

  “No, she was alone.”

  “What did her staff look like?”

  “It was bone white with an indigo gem.”

  “Her clothing?”

  “Tattered robes of black.”

  “Did she speak distinctively?”

  “Native Varden. One man said she sounded more proper than most. There was agreement that her voice and words were not those of a sane person.”

  “… You have been thorough.”

  “Again, a necessary quality. What precisely do you hope to learn from these questions?”

  “I am not certain, but as you say, thoroughness is a necessary quality. To that end, silence yourself for a moment. Half a kingdom away I was able to detect only that there was indeed some manner of D’Karon workings in this area, and now immersed in it I can detect its degree, but there may well be more treachery at work here than you have noticed or I have detected. We shall put that to rest now.”

  As before, she shut her eyes, but rather than simply taking in her surroundings she allowed her mind to spread, scrutinizing the mystic residues present. She could feel, in some measure, each spell both the woman and her captive had cast. The lingering echoes of the summoned tendrils still seemed to waver around her. But there was more. It was something distant, to the north. The sensation was much like this one. Associating a point in the astral realm with its counterpart in the physical realm was not always a simple task… but in this case it was a place known all too well to her.

  “I must go,” she said sharply.

  The look of resolve and irritation on Croyden’s face changed to one of reluctant concern. “Is something wrong?”

  “That monster has sullied…” She stopped herself and eyed Croyden steadily. “I shall return.”

  Before he could ask another question, she shifted to flame and burst out the door. She looped over the castle and tore through the sky northward. In her mind’s eye, mocking her like the splash of a vandal’s paint across the face of a masterful portrait, was a glaring work of D’Karon magic in the center of the place known as Lain’s End. That woman, that thing that clumsily wielded the weapon of her enemy, had used it to desecrate the site of the greatest tragedy in the history of this blighted world. Ether’s fiery visage twisted in vicious anger as she stopped mere seconds later in the remnants of a mountain range.

  For anyone else, Lain’s End would seem the same inexplicable curiosity it had always been, save for a sizable gouge in the land not far from the tip of the pointed outcropping that reached out toward its center. The bottomless pit was still present, and the mysterious stones that hung and drifted over it continued their complex dance. Ether had spent too much time here, too many days staring unblinking at the aftermath of their final victory and greatest failure against the D’Karon. Black stains of dark magic hung like cobwebs from the edges of a sequence of stones.
That anyone would sully this solemn place with more D’Karon workings stung Ether. The fact that this was the place formerly home to the portal that could have flooded the world with the D’Karon and their creations was worrying enough. Coming here meant the woman knew far more than she should about the D’Karon’s plans, which in turn meant she might have some insight into how to once again render the otherworldly creatures a threat.

  Then her eyes turned to the one patch of ground that had served as the focus of nearly every moment of her time here…

  Her fists clenched, the flames of her body surging brilliantly bright, and her mind sizzled with hatred. The sword, Lain’s sword, was missing. That monster had come to this place and dared to disturb the resting place and legacy of a creature so perfect, a creature who was her sole equal, a creature whom she loved…

  She felt it stoke the flames of her anger, and as they seared her mind, she realized something else. Of all people, she heard the voice of Myranda in her mind. A memory of one of a dozen lectures the human had given her.

  “I know you believe yourself above such things, Ether,” Myranda had said. “But whether you embrace it or not, you are a part of this world, a part of its society. The things we think and feel, you think and feel as well. One day you’ll understand how deeply emotions can drive us. And you’ll see that it is the same thing that drives you…”

  At the time she’d felt it was inane drivel, an attempt to drag her down to a level that a mortal mind could understand. But now…

  Ether looked down. At her feet, the flames of her form had melted the ice into a pool of crystal clear water. Its surface churned and rippled in the biting wind of the mountains, but with a thought the shapeshifter turned to wind and willed it to stillness. The surface settled, and in it was her reflection. She dropped to the ground and reluctantly assumed her human form, gazing into the pool as it crystallized inward from the edges. There was something in her eyes. In them she saw the same pain she’d seen in the eyes of mortals more times than she cared to recall. Men and women gathered about the ruins of their homes. Soldiers standing at the edge of a bloody battlefield. And even in the eyes of the defiant Croyden Lumineblade when she’d left him in the castle.