Michael's thoughts strayed between his desires to reach the outpost with his longing to remain in the village's comfort. So far, life on the road had not been all that he imagined it would be, and the opportunity for a continued lull pulled heavy on his heart. Not to mention the chance to study and interact with real dwarves. Their race was already shrouded in myth and secrecy, and the prospect of being unable to examine them saddened the young Mage.
Shayla reflected on the strange and turbulent paths her life has followed. She was raised a warrior of the dragoons. A spear maiden from a long noble line of dragon knights, only to be imprisoned by the Narzeth until the empire came to liberate her and her sisters. The dragoons swore undying fealty to Emperor Axton and all who followed him. It was the emperor who elevated her to First Knight of the Dragoons. She would not let her oaths abandoned and made in vain. She would see the journey through to end, be it on the Mage's path or the Ranger's. Though if the dwarven woman's words were any indication, both directions would lead to the same outcome. Deep in her bones she knew that battle and hardship awaited them no matter what they chose.
Tiberius alone felt the most significant struggle on his heart. He had always felt sure in his path, yet a sinking feeling had begun to grow in his heart. He began to suspect that the loss of magic wasn't just an act of nature or the gods’ will but as a plot by their unknown enemy. He had never been a believer in coincidence. He had seen too much evil and plotting in his time to know that everything meaningful in life was by design.
It was not happenstance that a group of mages were waylaid in their pilgrimage to the Land Beyond, nor that his father had directed him there to save Michael from undead soldiers. It wasn’t bad luck that had sent an evil beast to attack them shortly after taking up their quest. Yet whatever, or whomever, was conspiring against them he had did not know. He knew beyond any doubt that it was all by design. Yet whatever, or whomever, was conspiring against them remained shrouded in secrecy. For now.
In this dark uncertainty, he felt a pull to be with his father and with his men. He was positive they would need him for the fights to come. He began to feel as though his father was becoming encircled by enemies disguised as friends, and conflict would come that would threaten all the people in its path creating untold destruction.
The greatest test of a warrior isn't on the calm battlefield, but in the chaos of their hearts, his father had said. And his father, for whatever minor faults he had, was seldom wrong in his council.
Two hours into their journey, they stopped for rest amongst a thicket of dead trees in the frozen forest. The sun was beginning to set, and the stars above were already shining through a cloudless sky. The bleak landscape conjured up uneasy feelings from the young Mage. Images of the undead flashed inside his mind's eye, like a picture show from the traveling scientists. Sensing his fear, Tiberius reached out and patted the young man on his shoulders like a comforting brother.
“Do not be afraid,” he told the Mage. “We are with you, and no manner of beast or demon or ill-intended man will cause us any bother.”
“Aye,” Shayla added, a wicked glimmer in her dark brown eyes. “The most dangerous and fearsome creatures in the woods tonight are me and the Ranger at your side.”
Michael smiled for the first time since departing the village. His companions were indeed a welcome comfort to him. Though they were but a few days out from the journey, they had made many great strides north, and returning to the cold and dark had caused him anxiety. He knew his companions would be able to match whatever evil may come. Tiberius had bested the undead, and he and Shayla had faced down a demon. Together, all three were of a heartier build than ever.
The sun set an hour after their stop amongst the dead trees as they dug into the supper, the dwarves had been gracious enough to pack for them. Michael raised his head and turned from side to side as if examining some unseen point in the night.
“What is the next destination?” he asked.
“We will hold this course another day or so before breaking due north,” Tiberius responded.
But at his words, his companions didn’t answer, instead returning worried and thoughtful looks. He met their gaze’s before realizing his voice betrayed him. Instead of the calm and caring demeanor he wished to portray, his voice was shrouded in doubt and fear. A sound neither of his companions had ever heard come from him.
“What troubles you, my friend?” Shayla asked.
He set aside his plate of mutton and bread and thought for a moment on how best to answer. He knew they would both detect any effort to conceal or deflect, and in the end, decided to be as honest with them as he would be to his men.
“My friends, I am sorry. My body is here, but my thoughts and spirit are on my father,” he admitted. “I am honor-bound and ordered to escort you to the outpost, and I aim to see it through. But my heart and my spirit are many miles back in the capital.”
“Your father is wise, and pardon the expression, the most powerful man in the world,” Shayla replied. “He is well protected atop his tower, and commands the mightiest military the world has ever seen.”
“While that may be true, I fear he has many enemies concealed to him.”
Michael’s brow furrowed. “The emperor is the most loved man in our realm. He has the loyalty of everyone who dwells within our borders. From a lowly stonemason to the mightiest wizard and solder. Even those within our borders who would buck against his rule would never dare out of respect to him.”
“Thank you for your kindness,” Tiberius replied with a solemn nod. “But if all were indeed true as you say, then you must also concede that there is indeed a plot beset against us. And by extension, upon my father and the empire.”
“Coincidence is the way of fools,” Shayla said.
“Aye, my thoughts exactly. With all that has befallen us in a short amount of time, I am certain someone is plotting against our mission. I would even go as far as to say someone is behind the disappearance of magic in our world.”
Michael put his food aside and leaned in close. “In my first few years at the Citadel, I learned about the nature of magic. Or, how to perceive magic. From all that I was taught, there is no one in the world that can stop the flow of magic. It is simply not possible. And why do you think there would be a conspiracy at all?”
“What is magic then?” the Dragoon asked.
“I think the dwarves spoke rightly enough. They said they can wield magic as if it were water you can draw with your hand. Those of us attuned to the power of magic have always felt as though it were a part of this world. Just as the air blows through the trees, and the streams water the crops. It just is. But, sir, as I said before, why do you think there is a conspiracy?”
Tiberius lit his pipe, took in a deep drag of tobacco, and said, “I understand magic just as you do, Michael. My own apprenticeship with the Battle-Mages taught me much in the manner of magic. Yet, despite all you have said, magic is leaving our world. Someone knows this and is eager to prevent us from reaching the outpost. They fear the knowledge that could be gained there, and are eager to prevent us from reaching it. Twice have expeditions to reach the Land Beyond been attacked. If that is not a clear indication to you that a plot against us is in motion, then you are a fool.”
Silence filled their camp as thick as the blackness surrounding them. None knew what else to say to help ease their leader’s conflict. Michael had leaned back, letting Tiberius’s words wash over him, conceding that his leader’s assessment was indeed correct. A shudder went up his back at the thought of a traitor in the empire.
Not just a traitor to the empire, but someone who wished magic itself to leave the world, he realized.
Finally, Shayla broke the heavy silence. “I cannot begin to fathom the burdens you carry, but this mission was ordered by the emperor himself, and Catherine warned against straying from our path. In Narzeth, they had said the dwarves’ wisdom extended beyond the present and past but dwelt somewhere ahead of them. As
if they could perceive the proper course of action.”
“They could see the future?” Michael asked.
“No, of course not,” she replied with a slight smile. “There is no power under the sun on any side of the world that could do that. More so, they could assess everything around them and knew instinctively what the right thing to always do was. As though an unseen guide walked beside.”
“They did speak of The Father as guiding them. Whispering to them on how to proceed in life. Though, I must admit, it sounds crazy to me,” Michael said.
“Sounds like fairy tales, to me,” Tiberius added.
Shayla cocked her head at the Ranger’s words. In all her long life, she had never heard the words ‘fairy tales’ and began to wonder what they were.
“You okay, ma’am?” Michael asked after a few quiet moments.
“Oh, yes,” she replied flustered. “My mind was turning to the previous few days, and to the beast.”
“What beast?”
“The black screeching one that waylaid us and led to us being here in the first place.”
Michael thought for a moment, remembering the terror that had filled them. The ethereal smoke and blackness that tried to devour them. “I do not know, ma’am. I have studied many books on beasts, both real and mystical, in the Citadel. To my recollection, I have never read or heard of such a thing before.”
The silence fell harder than a boulder. The three companions had all been secretly wishing to speak about what had happened to them two nights ago, yet not even the brave Ranger or the bold Dragoon could muster the courage to talk about it. Fear had taken hold them, such as neither of the three had ever felt. The power it wielded was unreal and never seen before by them. Tiberius, however, knew. He knew the second he regained his senses as to what had attacked them.
At length, the Ranger broke the silence as he whispered, “It was a Revenant. An ancient evil that has long plagued the places of our world that men have not yet ventured to.”
“Have you ever encountered one before it attacked you?” Michael asked.
“I have not, no. Though I know them to be very real, and very dangerous.”
“How do you know of these things then, sir?”
“There are stories you hear about strange sighting in the more ancient corners of our realm. Stories of people and animals disappearing after a thick blackness overcomes the land. Stories of screaming that haunts the memories of those who lost their loved ones.”
He took a moment to collect himself, for he knew what was to come next would be particularly painful to recall. “And I saw them myself across the ocean during the war. The day after the battle… we saw them.”
“What is it then?” Shayla asked, turning to face her leader.
“I do not rightly know,” the Ranger began, “The wisest men I know speak of them as souls that are chained to a place in the world. Evil black souls who are unwelcomed in the halls of their ancestors, who linger and fester and grow in power to torment the living.”
Michael’s face changed to pure surprise in an instant. “How did you learn of such creatures?”
“When I was apprenticed to the Battle-Mages in my youth. There was…” he said, pausing. A lump had begun to unexpectedly form in his throat. Memories long suppressed were starting to reemerge, and hot tears were threatening to fall from the corners of his eyes.
“There was a boy I was apprenticed with who fell in his trials to such a beast. They sent him and his master out to investigate a simple disappearance of livestock. Only his master returned. The boy was never seen again.”
“What was this boy’s name, sir?” Michael whispered.
Tiberius pushed all the emotion he could out of his heart. He refused to give in to his feelings right now when his guard must be at its highest.
“Noah,” he said with a small break in his voice. “Noah Bright.”
“I see,” Michael said, fully understanding the pain behind Tiberius’s words. “He was close to you, wasn’t he?”
“Aye. That he was,” the Ranger replied as the tears began to flow down his frozen cheeks.
“I think it would best to turn in, my friends,” Tiberius said, after another long silence. “I’ll take the watch tonight. Don’t suspect I’d get much sleep anyhow.”
After a few pensive moments, Michael and Shayla moved away from where they sat to settle in for the night. Michael inside his worn and patched bedroll, his eyes heavy but focused on the dancing fire in front of him. Shayla rested just outside the ring alongside a tree, her spear beside her, ready to sing into the night. Tiberius had perched himself opposite Shayla, his pipe between his pursed lips and his eyes looking beyond, piercing the veil of darkness. He brooded on his thoughts throughout the night, weighing all the things they had spoken of.
They were back on the road just after daybreak. A quick, silent breakfast had been devoured before departing into a grey featureless day. The cold woods offered no direction to Michael and Shayla, yet they continued to follow Tiberius. What little sleep Michael and Shayla had the night before did nothing to provide them rest from their troubles. Tiberius had found neither rest nor sleep but relied on his disciplined training to sustain him throughout the night.
They pressed on northwest through the White Kingdom, passing through the Georgian Wood and over winding frozen paths flecked with large boulders iced over from the frigid weather that existed in that part of their country. Whatever had lived here once upon a time was now long dead and preserved as if behind a snow globe, forever dead but never gone into time and memory.
Michael had tried to read the dwarf’s book to pass the time. There was much knowledge in there to be sure, but nothing that would help them in their present mission. A stiff wind cut through the path they walked, sending shivers through their bodies.
Michael eyed the Dragoon in her green armor. “That armor cannot be good warmth, Shayla.”
“Under normal circumstances, no, it is not,” she conceded. “But the fire of the dragon keeps us warm when needed, even in these cold dead lands.” She turned and observed the bleakness of the terrain, hoping to see some sign of life other than the occasional fox or squirrel that would scurry in the distance. “Does anyone live in such a barren place?”
“Mainly hunters and trappers this far north,” Michael replied. “My father would take us here often to trade our fish for pelts.”
“I forget you are from this part of the empire. This must be more like home than the city did.”
“It is familiar, yes. But not as comforting as being amongst the Magi. I certainly didn’t miss the snow!”
Shayla gave out a low chuckle. “There is no snow across the sea, only the heat and sands as far as our eyes can see.”
“What about the Dragon Garden?” Michael asked in return. “Is it not without sand and scorching sun?”
“We do not speak of the garden, young one,” Shayla snapped back. “It was our home long ago, but it is lost to us now and forever.”
Michael bowed his head, acknowledging his misstep. “I mean no offense, Mistress Knight.”
“How is it you know of the garden anyhow? I did not think a young Mage on the other side of the world would have ever heard of it?”
Michael held the book away from his chest. “It’s in their book, ma’am. Or the parts I can read anyhow. Half of the book is written in their language, and I do not know how to translate it.”
Tiberius began to listen closer to their conversation. Fresh memories of runes carved into steel homes flashing in his mind, and strange words deciphering in his mind.
“The dwarves writing goes back far, yet there are no dates when it was inscribed,” Michael continued. “They mentioned the garden as a holy place to the dragon's worshipers, though they admitted themselves to having never seen it for themselves.”
Shayla nodded at his words. “The dwarves speak true. It was the most sacred place to us until our sundering from it and Lord Kazduhl long ago. And if it pleases
you, we will not speak of it again.”
Michael nodded at her, acknowledging her request and dropped any further talk of the Dragon Garden, though his mind wandered as to what it was and what had happened to the dragons long ago. Perhaps, he thought, the answer is inside the dwarves’ massive book. If only he could read it. He grew frustrated, and not wanting to continue their journey in complete silence, placed the heavy book into his pack.
“Well, as for this place,” Michael continued on. “It is said this land was where the elves made their arrival into our world. This place used to be lush green lands, almost like a jungle! But when they came, their magic was so great and powerful that the ground seized up and retreated. The sky turned grey, and the cold pierced every inch of it.”
“Well, whatever these elves are, they could have at least returned some beauty to this place when they left,” she replied, again scanning the terrain. Yet every way to she looked inside the thick dead forest was more gnarled frozen trees. “This is the most dreadful place I’ve ever seen in my life!”
“Many good people still dwell in these lands,” Tiberius offered, the first he had spoken since last night.
“Ah! He speaks at last!” Shayla exclaimed in jest. “So good of you to join us this merry morning! Perhaps you could pray to your elves for a little bit of warmth! And while you’re at it, tell us how much longer till we find it on our own.”
Tiberius smiled softly to himself. “I thought Lord Kazduhl’s fire would keep you warm?”
“It does, Ranger,” she said with an air of sarcasm. “But if it’s all the same, I wish the sun would come to visit us soon.”
“The sun just might if we are lucky. But as to our destination, we are about ten leagues from the Ice Steps that lead to the Forgotten Mountains. Before we reach them, there is a decent-sized village about five leagues away. We will stop and rest there for the night, and possibly tomorrow before we ascend the steps. We keep a small garrison there to keep watch over the northern realms, and I am eager to hear any news from the capital.”
“A most excellent idea,” Michael said. Though a part of him wondered if their brief reprieve was more for Tiberius’s peace of mind. The Ranger he had met a few days ago would have driven them on through the snow, yet now wished to spend a night in a village.
The Spirit of The Warrior: The Axton Empire book 1 Page 16