He took a deep breath and counted to five before exhaling all of his misgivings. He didn’t know where he was, but he knew he was alive. And for the moment, he knew he was safe. For the moment anyway. He took one last look at the wooden bedroom before slowly making his way to the heavy wood door. He took one last deep breath, shut his eyes, and pushed his way out.
To his surprise, outside his quarters, he found himself inside a rather large café filled with all manner of travelers and locals talking busily and digging into their breakfast. As he surveyed the massive wooden walls, he discovered about a dozen other doors like his, no doubt opening into similar rooms such as where he awoke. Above the stone laden hearth in the middle of the room was a sigil on a large wooden shield. A bear with trout in his mouth below a crossed arrow and spear. The sigil of the Childers Kingdom. Wherever he was, he realized he was indeed safe, and in the company of good people of the empire.
He turned again to examine the room, unsure of what to do next when he found four men in dark green and brown cloaks in the middle of the room. They looked tired but alert, a sight he had often seen of his amongst the watchmen back home after a long night of patrolling the streets. He blinked at the sight of them, a distant yet familiar memory forming in his mind. All of a sudden, it dawned on him. These four men in their dirtied cloaks and with their watchful gazes were members of the Imperial Rangers. The Ranger in the middle noticed him first, stood, and beckoned him to join them. The boy gulped and cautiously began to approach them.
“Good morning, young Mage,” the bearded Ranger greeted. “I am Tiberius, commander of the rangers.”
“Michael Deerborn, sir. Apprenticed mage to the Magi Order,” he replied, somewhat unsure of himself.
Tiberius smiled kindly at the boy and continued, “These are my companions, First Sergeant Trevin Moore, and Sergeants Zachary Trex and Timothy Shepherd. Please, sit.”
Michael slowly sat down, turning from side to side to examine the four rangers he now shared a table with. “Master Tiberius,” he said, confused, “I, uh, that is to say… have heard many tales of you and your men. And I am, uh, honored, to uh…”
Tiberius chuckled at Michael’s words before holding up a hand. “Please, young Mage, it is just Tiberius. No ‘master’ or anything of that nature.”
Michael could only continue to stare at each of the four in turn. He was so shocked by the present and welcomed company, he didn’t notice a plate of fried eggs, bacon, and mug of coffee that had almost materialized in front of him. The smell is what grabbed him, and unthinkingly he began digging into his food. The Rangers laughed at the ferociousness with which he seemed to attack his food.
“Hungry?” Timothy asked with a chuckle.
“Very,” Michael replied between mouthfuls of food. “I had to cast a rather large healing spell last night, and the side effects make the caster very hungry. Also, it’s been at least sixteen hours or so judging by the time of morning since I last ate. Coupled with the effort of summoning magic...”
But the Rangers’ renewed laughter cut him off from his rambling. “You sure like to talk for someone with such a huge appetite,” said Zachary, sipping his warm coffee. Michael stared at them, growing self-conscious again, half chewing and half unsure of what to do.
“Healing magic draws on your life force to heal another’s physical body,” said Tiberius to Michael’s astonishment. He had never known a person outside the Magi who knew the side effects of casting certain magics.
But Tiberius’s mood changed from exchanging pleasantries to coldness in an instant. “What can you tell us about last night, Michael?” he asked. “What do you remember, and why were you and your brothers so far north?”
Michael thought for a moment, trying to bring forth memories that seemed like years ago. He looked hard into Tiberius’s penetrating eyes and could tell that any dishonesty would be sussed out in a second. Instead he settled on his trusty default response, honesty. He pushed aside his plate, took a sip of his coffee, and placed his hands flat on the table.
“We were camped in the forest for the night on our way to the Forgotten Mountains. We aimed to cross into the Land Beyond in search of a rumored Dwarven outpost that might have been there,” he began. “I was in charge of our group’s correspondence with the capital. I was replying to an inquiry from one of our wizards when I heard screaming and yelling from outside my tent. When I ran outside, all I saw was blackness moving around us. And in the blackness, swords and spears were cutting down the other mages, and a high shrill sound rang out over the melee. I stood frozen in place when one of the things came up to me and... and...”
“When it stabbed you in your gut,” finished Trevin grimly.
Michael nodded, then continued, “I fell, and I guess I passed out for a while. When I woke up all the other mages were dead, and I was bleeding from my stomach. I summoned a healing spell for myself and, after it was done, I tried to move and get somewhere safe, but my legs were drained, and so were my arms. Then I heard yelling and the sound of footsteps coming. I grabbed whatever I could to defend myself, but I don’t remember anything.”
The Rangers looked at him for a minute before Tiberius asked, “How is it that twenty fully trained mages died, and one apprentice survived?”
Michael looked at each of them intently as their probing eyes burned holes into his mind and soul. He could see there was no use lying and looked down at his hands that had held the light not a few hours ago. His mind raced back to the frozen forest floor, and all at once, he realized the rumors were indeed true. The fear they had hoped to deny had come to pass. Now, everyone in the empire would have to deal with the immense fallout. In almost a whisper said, “They couldn’t summon magic.”
Silence filled the group. The bustling cafe’s noise was reduced to a small drone under the weight of what Michael had just said. The implications of such a thing occurring were unfathomable to the Rangers and should never be taken lightly. Tiberius weighed this response carefully, trying to determine if this was some clever ruse or perhaps truth. He had heard rumblings of the supposed waning of magical power, but like others in the empire, had brushed it aside as mere nonsense. But he should have known better. You don’t call down power as such he saw during the close of the war and not expect some kind of backlash.
“They couldn’t summon magic?” asked Timothy, perplexed with an awkward smile on his face. “How is that possible?”
Numbness washed over Michael as he continued to stare at his hand. “Something has happened. Either we can’t conjure up magic like so many have had for thousands and thousands of years, or,” he replied, unsure if what he was saying would make sense, “magic is leaving our world.”
They stared at him, unblinking. The enormity of such a thing happening in their world was undreamt of, and the repercussions it could cause were reason enough to be afraid of what could happen. Magic and its practice had been responsible for virtually every bit of good and prosperity in the empire. From winning the various wars against the Narzeth, and creating the Imperial City, to calling down rain from nothing when the droughts threatened to starve the citizenry. Magic was at the very core of what made the empire powerful and prosperous.
“What makes the Magi believe this?” Zachary asked.
Michael looked up at the men. “None of them know. We first noticed the strain and effort it took about six months ago. Spells that we conjured for years became a struggle, even with a wand or staff. We then switched to simply studying the spells and their usage as opposed to actually performing magic. Soon after that, the High Sorcerer recalled all the wizards and mages in the empire back to the Citadel.”
“There are no Magi out in the empire?” Trevin asked. “Not even the in the royal courts of the ten kings?”
Michael shook his head, renewed despair washing over him. “No, sir. High Sorcerer Nightowl ordered all members of the Magi to abandon their posts and return to the Citadel.”
Trevin recoiled at Michael’s news. “Wh
en was this?”
“A month before we set out for the mountains, sir.”
Trevin was floored at the news. He turned to Tiberius and asked, “Did you know about this?”
“No,” Tiberius replied without taking his eyes off of Michael. “We have been holed up in Kovaiyemarck so long with our own business that the comings and goings of the empire have escaped our sight.”
Trevin turned again to face Michael. “If what you say is true, then how were you, an apprentice, able to summon a spell when twenty full mages could not?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Michael could see the First Sergeant’s hand unconsciously resting on the hilt of his broadsword. He turned his full attention back to the four rangers and said pleadingly, “I don’t know! All I did was focus harder and stronger than I ever have. And I repeated the incantation unceasingly! When all seemed lost, the light leapt from my chest into my hands. But it took me a long time, and I still barely managed to conjure such a simple spell. Considering how long it took me, not to mention the strain it put on me, the other mages didn’t stand a chance of summoning their magic!”
“Lower your voice,” Tiberius said sternly, his gaze never wandering from Michael. “Why would the emperor authorize a venture so far north and away from Imperial protection if the Magi are unable to use magic?”
But Michael shook his head sadly, “Forgive me, sir. I cannot speak to His Majesty’s intent.”
“Do you believe him, sir?” Tevin asked Tiberius.
Tiberius’s face turned impassive and calm. He surveyed the young man in front of him. His blue eyes were sad and confused, and his small body hung defeated in his chair. At last, Tiberius nodded his approval, and with that, the matter was settled. The three other Rangers seemed to relax and continued to look to their commander. In their minds, Michael had become their friend and companion, and any doubts about his integrity were swiftly extinguished.
Tiberius rose from his seat and said to his men, “Ready the horses. We depart for the capital at once.”
The three Rangers were on their feet and out the door without another word spoken. Michael hesitantly stood from his chair, unsure of what was going to happen to him. “What about me, sir?” he whispered.
Tiberius’s face broke from its impassivity to a small, warm smile. “You’re my companion now, young Mage, and you will join us on our ride to the capital,” he replied, beckoning him to join him as he walked to the door. “We both have parts of this misadventure that need to be heard.”
“Heard by whom?” Michael asked as he followed the Ranger to the door.
“By the High Sorcerer,” Tiberius replied. “And by His Majesty the emperor.”
But Michael stopped in his tracks. “I can’t go back there, Master Ranger! Not with all I’ve seen and done and told you. They wouldn’t believe anything I have to say, or,” he started, but Tiberius held his hand up in silence.
“I’m going to ask you very politely to stop talking, Mr. Deerborn,” Tiberius replied as they made their way through the crowded café. “Whatever fears and issues you have are unfounded. We both have parts played out in last night’s events. Parts that need to be heard at once. And the longer we delay, the sooner we may all arrive to ruin. We both have our parts in this tale to tell, and together, the truth will be made clear to them that we do not speak lies.”
Michael thought this over and decided his new companion was indeed correct. What he knew was important and needed to be heard at once. I can’t let my brothers’ death be in vain, he said to himself as new-found courage bloomed in him.
“But hang on, I told you what happened to me. What part did you and your rangers play in all this?” Michael asked.
But Tiberius held his hand up again as they reached the door. “That is best not spoken of right now. From what we both experienced last night it is clear there are many seen and unseen forces working towards some evil intent. It is best to hold our tongues until we are good and well on the road.”
Michael looked defeated and gloomy. But Tiberius placed his hand on his shoulder and smiled at him. This was the first time he noticed his eyes, grey and haunted as if he had seen too many things in his short life, and still saw them in his waking hours.
“I promise you, my young Mage. All will be revealed. We keep no secrets in the rangers, and now that you are a recognized companion of ours, none shall be kept from you.”
Michael nodded in response as Tiberius opened the door for them to depart the inn. These are strange men, Michael thought. To trust each man with their secrets and extend that trust to their friends and comrades is something all men of the empire could do well to practice.
Dusk was a few hours off when they exited the inn. To Michael’s surprise, the cold wasn’t as harsh as the forest. The hustle and bustle of the busy village folk made the temperature more bearable and to his liking. The Rangers were mounted on their horses in the village’s main thoroughfare with two empty steeds at the head of the formation. The men’s faces were refreshed and almost excited for the journey. Rangers were meant to be on the road and in the wild, not some fluffy inn. And besides, the good weather and clear skies would be the proper medicine to lift their spirits after the loss they had endured the night before.
Tiberius and Michael mounted the two horses at the front, and with a wave of Tiberius’s hand, they moved out from the village at a slow trot. “Why are they moving out so slowly if we carry such important information?” Michael asked.
“We don’t know what enemies may be moving against us, my young Mage. Best to not draw any undue attention to ourselves if we can avoid it. Some may think we are returning to our expedition if we go off-road, but many people saw us leave in the company of a Mage. If we speed down the Imperial Road, they will surely become suspicious and report it to whoever may have a desire to know. Therefore, we go slow and deliberate and without a break. We can handle the long journey without rest.”
True to his word, they all rode on through the rest of the day with no breaks. What Tiberius had not told Michael was that the rangers were used to being mounted and traveling unceasingly if needed, and their horses were specially bred to endure such hardships. Even Michael found the ride enjoyable though he had barely spent an hour in his entire life atop a horse, let alone atop a horse in the presence of such noble and dangerous warriors.
Chapter 5
The Road
The landscapes began to change from the frost-bitten lands and stone construction to greener and greener fields. The people they passed were starting to dress less warmly, and their fields were more plentiful and lush. The snow-covered hills that had been a staple outside of the village gave way to fertile flat plains. In the distance, Michael could see many small mountain ranges here and there that broke up the beautiful vistas that seemed to stretch in all directions. He took all this in with much excitement and wonder. When he and the other Magi had come north, it was under the cover of darkness. And in the back of a wagon with barely any room to stretch. Now, out here in the daylight and fresh air atop a beautiful, strong horse, he began to feel almost peaceful and happy.
Except for the clothes they wore, the Childers Kingdom locals reminded Michael of his boyhood home in White Fyre in the northwest White Kingdom. Like the Childers Kingdom, it was also a land of near-perpetual snow with its own vast forests and small mountains. The scholars had often said that long ago, before the Ten Kingdoms were even thought of, both Childers and White were one unified tribe of people. But unlike the people here, people in the White Kingdom were less welcoming of outsiders to their lands.
The people here in Childers were friendly and kind and waved and smiled at the band of rangers as they passed. The people of his homeland would have sneered and cursed at such a sight. He had often wondered why and had long ago reasoned it was to do with his own king’s distaste of the Imperial way of life. He pondered this interesting dichotomy for a moment before turning to Tiberius.
“These people are quite friendly, ar
en’t they?” he asked after passing a group of farmers in an orchard.
Tiberius nodded in agreement. “Have you ever been to the Kingdom of Childers, young Mage?”
Michael shook his head. His only experiences with the empire, outside from his youth in the White Kingdom, had been his training at the Magi Citadel built on the Imperial mansion’s grounds. Even then, it was forbidden for them to leave their subterranean homes and classrooms until they reached the apprentice level. Even after attaining the rank of apprentice, Michael remained attentive in his studies and rarely left the confines of his room or library.
“The people of this kingdom are resilient folk,” Tiberius explained removing his pipe for his afternoon smoke. “They endure such harsh climate but receive such benevolence from their king. They welcome all who venture into their lands.”
So, it did have to do with the love and honor of their king after all, Michael realized. Why would King White hold such disdain for the empire when they have not done anything to him or our people?
Michael pushed these sour thoughts aside and began to reflect on all he had seen in such a short time. Such horrors and evil from the night before. Such warmth and generosity he now felt amongst the rangers. He promised himself that when he was elevated to full mage, he would dedicate more time to traveling and studying the people of this vast empire. The willfully ignorant understand nothing outside of themselves, he told himself.
The day was beginning to grow long. The sun that had hung just past mid-day when they started out was starting to fade into the west. The deep blue sky above them began to turn brilliant pink and purple, the likes of which Michael had only seen in paintings. Small distant twinkling lights began to show in the dusky sky, the faint outline of the veiled full moon was now rising slowly to greet them. Lanterns were being set at the modest homes and inns they passed, and there were fewer and fewer travelers on the road. A renewed cold breeze began to blow softy from the north, and that sent a shock down Michael’s back. Tiberius ordered his rangers to halt and to set up camp for the night in a nearby field.
The Spirit of The Warrior: The Axton Empire book 1 Page 5