by Lana Axe
“You take them,” Taren insisted. He already had what he came for. Rubbing his fingers over the symbol, he realized how beautifully crafted it was. The surface was smooth and soft, but it held a magical heat to it that felt soothing in his hand.
Zamna placed the gold pieces inside his pack and searched the ground a second time to ensure he had found them all. Mages surely had need of money, but if Taren did not want to take any for himself, then that was his choice. The La’kertan was content to take his share of the tomb’s treasure. Though it wouldn’t be enough to live a life of luxury, it was a considerable sum.
Taren lifted the symbol toward the door, not bothering to read the runes carved upon it. With this device, he would not need to figure out another puzzle. The door slid aside, obeying the command of the powerful object, and sunlight filled the room.
The two men stepped out into the strange land of red-brown soil. A hazy red fog filled the sky, but the sun’s rays filtered their way through it, brightening the otherwise dreary land. Behind them, the stone door sealed itself, leaving no trace of where it had been. The pair found themselves near one of the many corridors of the compound.
“I would never have guessed there was a door here,” Zamna said.
“It was probably accessible only from inside,” Taren replied. Looking at his friend, he asked, “Will you come with me to Ky’sall?” After so much time spent together, he was in no hurry to part from his friend. There were still many things he did not know about him, and he hoped they would remain friends for many long years.
Zamna shook his head. “I have some things to attend to, and then I think I’ll go home,” he said. “I’d like to see my family again.”
Taren could respect that. “The symbol will likely take me anywhere I tell it. Would you like to go to La’kerta now?”
Again, Zamna shook his head. “I have unfinished business in Rixville. I can make my own way home after I’ve done what needs doing.”
Taren hoped the business did not involve murder, but he decided it was best not to ask. Without questioning his friend further, he focused his energy to the symbol. With a flash of light, the men arrived only feet from the wooden walls of Rixville.
Chapter 21
A few citizens took notice of the travelers’ strange arrival. It wasn’t every day they witnessed people appearing from thin air. They peered at the odd pair curiously for a moment before returning to their own affairs. The guards eyed them suspiciously but apparently recognized the La’kertan.
One of them nodded in his direction. “Ye’ve got some interestin’ friends,” he said.
Zamna shrugged and looked away. The guards returned to their difficult work of leaning against the city walls.
Though Taren’s stomach was begging for a hot meal, he was anxious to return home to his master. Turning to face Zamna, he said, “I’m going to miss having you around.” He meant those words. After weeks of traveling side by side, taking turns rescuing each other, and sharing strange meals and stories, Taren would have to readjust to life without his friend.
Zamna replied with a smirk and a shake of his scaly head. Long goodbyes were not his style. Though he considered Taren a friend, it was now time to part company. The life of an assassin was constantly changing, and this was just another step along his road. “Take care of yourself,” he said, slapping the young mage on his back.
“You too,” Taren replied. He watched as the La’kertan walked away, eventually blending into the crowd of Rixville’s citizens. He hoped he would see Zamna again someday, but his own future was uncertain. There would be much to do once he returned home. He might be studying the symbol with Imrit for many years to come. That would leave little time for travel or visiting with friends. If he was lucky, Imrit would have all the answers waiting for him when he returned home. Knowing the old man, he had probably worked nonstop since sending the apprentices away. Taren’s only regret was that he would have to deliver the bad news about Tissa and Djo.
Taren turned his back to the town and clutched the symbol tightly in his hand. Focusing his mind, he thought, I’m ready to go home. Nothing happened. Wrinkling his brow, Taren shrugged away the failure and tried again. Picturing Imrit’s cottage in is mind, he concentrated on the symbol. It warmed in his hand but didn’t take him from his current location.
Holding the metal object close to his face, he turned it over to allow the light to fall on its various strands. Another picture came into his mind. He could clearly see The Barrens. A shudder ran through his body as he remembered the stone beast and the death of his companions. Imrit had warned against the use of magic in the ancient forest. Could that be why the symbol was not working? The Barrens was an ancient land, and an unknown enchantment had been placed over it. Were the two ancient magics at odds with each other? If Imrit’s studies were correct, the symbol would be slightly younger than The Barrens. Either it had its limitations, or Taren was not able to use it properly. Whichever scenario was correct mattered not at this point. The mage would have to cross through the forest on foot.
Shifting his pack to a more comfortable position, he began to walk. The ground here was still covered with vibrantly colored patches of mossy grass, and it felt soft and familiar underfoot. If there were time, Taren would have liked to study the region to determine what sort of magic was responsible for its strange appearance. But that would have to wait. He must return the symbol to his master.
It wasn’t long before his feet brought him to the edge of The Barrens. The towering trees formed an almost impenetrable line, the yellow-brown soil starkly contrasting against the vivid colors of the land beneath his feet. Taking a deep breath, he peered between the trees, wondering if the stone beast was still waiting for him. He tucked the symbol into his pocket, for fear its magic might attract the creature. Without knowing how to use its power, he wasn’t sure if it would help or hurt the situation should the beast appear. He swallowed hard, his heart rate rising. He had outrun it once before, and he could do it again. Unfortunately, if the beast appeared early, the distance back to the cottage was much farther than he had to run the previous time.
With little choice, he stepped between the trees, immersing himself in the poorly lit forest. He spotted the path immediately and remembered to stay off it. Staying slightly left of the path, he began the slow march back home. There were several obstacles in the form of fallen branches, and his pace was moderate. He desperately wished to clear the forest quickly, but walking faster resulted only in his stumbling and nearly falling to the ground.
With sadness, Taren wondered if he would come across the remains of his former companions. If so, they deserved a proper burial, and he would take the time to give them one. Tissa had fallen close to the exit, but there was no sign of her body. Taren paused and carefully observed his surroundings, but nothing of the apprentice remained. The young mage did not care to think what might have become of her at the hands of the beast.
He trudged on, finding no sign of Djo either. The two apprentices had shared the same fate, and there was no trace of either of them. Was it at all possible they had survived and returned to the cottage? Though unlikely, the thought gave Taren a momentary feeling of hope. In the back of his mind, however, he knew that was not the case. He had seen the stone beast slashing at his companions, and he knew they would not survive. Had he been wrong to flee and leave them to their fate? What could he have done to save them? The regret would always be with him.
As the light began to fade, a soft pink glow broke through the treetops. Taren felt a sudden surge of fear, knowing he would have to spend the night alone in The Barrens. To his surprise, the symbol warmed in his robe pocket. Taren’s heart began to pound. Wrenching the item from his pocket, it glistened in the dim light. It was using magic.
Taren stood frozen, not knowing from which direction the beast would come. He could not run until it showed itself, or he risked running straight into its waiting claws. Soon, the stone beast appeared before him, its black eye
s locking onto his. Instinctively, Taren lifted the symbol over his head, his feet rooted firmly to the ground. This time, he would not run. He would fight.
The beast had something else in mind, however. After staring at Taren for a moment, it turned its back and calmly walked away, disappearing among the trees. Taren lowered the symbol and observed it. It flashed with a multitude of lights before fading back to its original gold color. Whatever the symbol had done, it had saved him from the beast. After returning it to his pocket, he continued his march.
Taren walked through the night, not bothering to stop and rest. All his thoughts focused on returning home, and he could not have slept, even if he had wanted to. The symbol continued to put off heat as it rested in his pocket, refusing to cease the magic it had started when he encountered the beast.
As morning broke through the trees, Taren realized where he was. The area before him looked familiar. This was the spot where he had paused to look back at his master’s cottage. The trees formed a straight line just ahead of him. Somehow the symbol had shortened the journey by days. He was home.
Pushing past the trees, Taren’s eyes beheld the stone cottage that had been his home. A soft plume of white smoke rose lazily from the chimney, disappearing into the blue sky above. Near the well, Vita was drawing water. The mage smiled, his heart full of gladness to be back where he belonged.
Lifting the heavy water bucket, Vita heard someone approaching. Swiveling around, she recognized Taren immediately. Dropping the bucket, she ran to him and hugged him tightly. “It’s good to have you home,” she said, still squeezing him.
“It’s good to be here,” he replied.
Vita backed away and asked, “Where are Tissa and Djo?”
Taren looked at the ground. “They didn’t make it,” he said, his tone somber.
Vita brought her hands up to cover her mouth, her eyes filling with tears. Choking back a sob, she said, “I’m sorry to hear that.” With a deep breath, she said, “Come inside. Master Imrit will be delighted to see you.”
The two walked slowly into the cottage. Imrit was not sitting at his desk near the window as Taren expected.
“Is he in the laboratory?” he asked.
Vita shook her head. “He hasn’t been well,” she informed him. “He’s taken to his bed.”
Taren felt like he’d been struck with a hammer. “It’s that bad?” he asked. Imrit had never been one to sit for long, let alone lay abed. A lump rose to Taren’s throat as he realized his master was gravely ill.
Vita patted the young mage on his shoulder. “His age is catching up with him, I think,” she said with a weak smile. “Your presence will bring him cheer.”
The pair entered Imrit’s bedchamber. Vita knocked at the doorframe to alert him of their presence.
“Look who’s come home,” she said, approaching the bed. Assisting the elderly wizard to sit up, she added, “Taren is here.” Grabbing at the pillows that had been strewn about, she propped him up, allowing him to sit comfortably without effort.
Taren slowly approached the old man and knelt next to the bed. “I’ve got the symbol, Master.”
Imrit reached out his bony hands, placing them on either side of Taren’s face. He stared into the young man’s eyes and smiled. “You’re home,” he said. Weakly he leaned forward to embrace his student.
Taren hugged him back, being careful not to squeeze too tightly. Then, he reached into his pocket to retrieve the symbol. It radiated heat on his hand. Offering it to his master, he watched as the old man’s eyes gleamed.
His fingers caressing the metal, Imrit said, “Master Taren, you’ve done something extraordinary.”
Taren beamed with pride. “I did it for you, Master. You can use this to make yourself well. You can live forever.” Taren desired nothing else. Imrit meant more to him than anyone in the world, and he could not bear to think of his death.
Imrit closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. “I no longer have the strength to use this,” he said, handing the symbol back to his former apprentice. “You are a master wizard now. You must unlock its potential on your own.”
“But, Master—” Taren started to say.
Imrit held up a hand to silence him. “I have made my peace with this world,” he began. “The symbol is in capable hands. I’m ready to move on.”
Tears welled in Taren’s eyes. He could no longer contain his grief. Everything he had gone through was for Imrit. He did not desire the symbol for himself. How could he possibly hope to understand its power without Imrit to guide him? “Master,” he said, “I know so little of the symbol. I can’t possibly study it without you.”
Imrit laughed softly. “You can, and you must,” he replied. Leaning back against his pillow, he said, “Ailwen tried to rule over the symbol and force it to her will. That’s why it abandoned her.” He glanced at the mage with a slight grin on his face.
Taren did not understand. How had the symbol abandoned Ailwen? Is that why it did not protect her from Zamna’s attack? His master’s words only created confusion in his mind.
Imrit continued to explain. “What needs to be done is for a mage to become one with the symbol. The two must exist as equal parts of a whole.” He leaned up on his arm to look at Taren. “When it knew you were coming for it, it began imprinting itself on you. It grew tired of Ailwen’s dominance, and it craved a new master: you. All that remains is for you to claim it as your own.”
Now it made sense. All the images of the symbol that had clouded his mind and every time he had sensed its presence. All of it was real. The symbol wanted him to take it—to use it as his own. He looked down at the symbol in his hands, its golden surface shining brightly. The image of his own reflection came through clearly. How can I claim it as my own when it rightly belongs to him?
Imrit began to cough, and Vita rushed to his side. Pressing a glass of water to his lips, she held his head as he took a sip. “He should rest now,” she said quietly.
Taren nodded. Rising to his feet, he placed the symbol on the nightstand next to his master’s bed. There it would remain until Taren was prepared to claim it. That day was not today. There were potions he could craft that would bring his master comfort, and that was far more important to him.
Over the next several days, Taren spent every waking moment at his master’s side. Along with Vita, he tended to the ailing man’s every need. Imrit died peacefully, clutching the hand of the young man he had raised as a son. Taren grieved for him, but there was nothing he could do. No spell in his power could bring back this man whom he had loved as a father. Imrit had accepted the ending of his life, and Taren would have to as well. In time, the pain would lessen, but he would carry his master in his heart always.
A few days after Imrit breathed his last, Taren returned to the old man’s room to retrieve the symbol. It sat where he had left it, patiently awaiting his return. There had been no strange images invading his mind. Instead, the symbol had allowed him peace while he mourned. Now it gleamed with a golden light, anxious to become one with the wizard.
Taren lifted the symbol in his hand. Now that Imrit was gone, there was no other who had a claim to it. Taking a deep breath, he said, “I am Master Taren, and I bind you to me. We shall be as one, our powers uniting for all time.”
The symbol flashed red, its searing heat burning into Taren’s hand. He panicked momentarily, wondering if he had misspoken. As the heat became more intense, Taren attempted to drop it, but it held fast to his skin. Raising his right arm, he watched as the symbol burned itself into his flesh, disappearing beneath his skin. Blackened lines surrounded his hand, weaving their way up his arm. He and the symbol were now one.
About the Author
Lana Axe lives in the Missouri countryside surrounded by dogs, cats, birds, and reptiles. She spends most of her free time daydreaming about elves, magic, and faraway lands.
For more information, please visit: lana-axe.com.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1<
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Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
About the Author