With a little free time on his hands, Aiden took out the small cube and activated it, causing the mystical pages to appear hovering just above the flat surface. Vindictus had referred to it as a “lexicon”, and the description seemed apt, as the small device had a wealth of information within. The dragon’s crystal sphere had survived the battle with only minor scratches, and swirling within its misty depths were letters of the same language used by the lexicon. He now had a complete set of the strange language, and was certain that with time, he would be able to figure it all out.
“What does that thing do?” Maggie asked shortly after Aiden began examining the pages.
“It is a repository of knowledge, crafted by a race so ancient and powerful that even dragons are mystified by their artifice,” Aiden explained. “With enough study, I should be able to figure it out and discover what they had to say.”
“Well, don’t get too comfortable,” she advised, “I’m getting hungry and we’ve nothing more to eat.”
“I left some supplies in Bastion’s saddlebags,” Sir William offered. “It will be enough to get us back to Amalis.”
“Okay, as soon as Ronan gets back, we’ll head out,” Aiden replied. Unfortunately, the sailor returned within minutes of this statement, carrying the exquisitely made leathers the decaying elf had been wearing.
“No sign of your sceptre,” he admitted, “but I found something I can use, anyway.”
After he’d taken the time to don the leathers — and finding it a little tight in places — the weary companions gathered up their gear and linked hands, while Aiden took out the small enchanted stone and slotted the amethyst into it.
The field around the broken tower faded into the violet mists of the Aether, leaving them standing amongst the indistinct shadows of the material plane. This time however, there was somebody else nearby, the familiar shape of the robed man he had seen earlier. Up close, he could clearly see it was clearly the arch mage he had from the vision Vindictus had shown him.
The old man was smiling as he looked directly at Aiden from under his hood, moving closer through the shifting mists to stand before the small group. He made no sound as he moved and did not attempt to speak. Aiden had no idea if he could communicate here in this strange place, for his knowledge was limited to the few times he had travelled here, but there was an easy way to find out.
“Are you Cuthbeort?” Aiden said, his voice sounding muffled and warped in the alien environment. The robed man nodded slowly, either unable or unwilling to speak. The wizard turned to look at Sir William and Maggie and bowed slightly, which the old knight, slightly bewildered by the entire experience, returned. Aiden was lost for words himself, for a moment, but Ronan kept his wits about him.
“He saw you slay the dragon,” he said mildly, drawing a smile and nod from the aged wizard. Aiden was then struck with a revelation.
“You’ve been waiting here all this time, keeping the dragon locked away until someone could come along and destroy it,” he blurted, drawing a solemn nod from the old man. He then held out a hand, palm upturned, as if expecting something. Aiden frowned in thought for a moment, and then held out the small enchanted stone, receiving a small nod from the robed old man in response.
“Thank you for your sacrifice,” Maggie breathed, drawing a wan smile from Cuthbeort as he eagerly reached for the stone.
“Wait,” Aiden interrupted, “did you ever have the Sceptre of Oblivion in your tower?” The old wizard’s brow creased in thought at this question, but after a long pause, Cuthbeort shook his head, putting to rest the question of the sceptre’s presence once and for all.
The old wizard took the stone from Aiden’s hand, and with a look of relief upon his etched features, removed the amethyst. All five of them were instantly deposited back on the field in front of the tower, but once all signs of the mist had vanished, the robed figure of the Archmage Cuthbeort collapsed to the ground.
Maggie rushed to his side and gasped when she looked under his hood. When Aiden peered inside, he too was shocked to see a weathered skull gazing back at him with empty eye sockets.
“Time works differently on the Aether,” Aiden explained in a quiet voice. “What you gain there does not translate back to this world, apparently. He must have known that.”
“After waiting so long, he was probably ready for it to finally end,” Sir William remarked.
“I think we should take the time to bury him here,” Maggie said. “It seems… right.” As she spoke, the background hum of the barrier surrounding the tower became distorted and the shimmering field collapsed like a soap bubble, freeing them and allowing the weather to fall upon the parched earth for the first time in nearly eight decades. Despite the cold, it was a welcome feeling on Aiden’s face, a cleansing experience that seemed to bring fresh possibilities.
They spent half an hour burying the old wizard next to the druid, somehow fittingly at the base of the dragon’s unmoving corpse. He had few possessions on him, but Aiden collected them up because they had the distinctive glow of power about them.
Inside the wizard’s robe was a small oaken stick, about fifteen inches long that tapered to a point. Tiny runes were inscribed upon its length, and Aiden recognised it as a wand that could be used to unleash elemental energies. He carefully pocketed the weapon and without further ceremony, left the tower grounds that were rapidly turning into a muddy quagmire.
Just outside the grounds they encountered Bastion, the old warhorse chewing on a small patch of grass he’d found growing out of the cracked pavement. His ears pricked up at the arrival of Sir William, and the reunion of the two was a touching sight, even if Aiden was more interested in the food within the horses’ saddlebags.
Thorn found them an hour later, the big cat looking well fed after his time apart. They set up camp under the shelter of one of the broken buildings within the city and spent a quiet night pondering the events they had somehow survived.
* * *
Although their supplies were low, they took their time travelling north towards Amalis once more, allowing their weary bones to recover somewhat after their trials. Maggie even managed to find their two lost mounts, grazing together not far from where they had bolted, with their saddlebags still full of bread and sausage.
They reached the gates of the city at noon on the second day, where work was underway to restore them to their former glory. After Maggie had dismissed the great tiger, they walked along uneven streets with the scale of the destruction impressive to say the least.
The city had been hit hard by the massive storm unleashed by the druids, but the guards reported few casualties from the attack. Citizens and city watchmen alike were clearing the rubble-strewn streets, sweeping aside the dirt and shoring up damaged buildings.
“I suppose we’d better let the duke know we’ve been successful in at least one aspect of our mission,” Aiden mused as they stood in the market square, watching the clean up.
“Considering the urgency of your quest, you’d better head back to Fairloch and let them know you didn’t find the sceptre,” Maggie advised, rolling up her sleeves.
“You’re talking like you’re not coming with us,” Ronan remarked, eyeing her shrewdly.
“I’m not,” she replied simply. “My order was responsible for this destruction, and I can’t just leave the people of Amalis to clean it up. I’ll have to coordinate with the duke, and I want to allay any ill-will towards druids that may have resulted from… all of this. Besides, we finished what I went to Fairloch for in the first place. Your task is complete, gentlemen, even if it was a lot tougher than I originally thought. Thank you, for everything.”
“It was an honour to simultaneously aid you and serve the Kingdom,” Sir William said, stepping down from Bastion’s back. “But more than that, I count you as a friend, which I never thought I would say about a pagan priestess.” Maggie laughed at this statement and looked fondly up at the old knight.
“I’m going to miss you, Will,�
� she said with a smile. He knelt on one knee and spread his arms wide, and the two of them embraced warmly.
“I have towering respect for you and your devotion, and the world is a better place for having you in it,” the knight continued. “You have given me much to think about.”
“Our faiths are not so different,” she assured him. “We’re all connected — it’s as simple as that. Now, get down here you scoundrel,” she said to Ronan after the knight had regained his footing. Ronan grinned unashamedly as he gave her a hug, which ended abruptly as she slapped away one of his wayward hands.
“Just testing you,” the sailor shrugged as she scowled at him. Aiden was a little confused until he realised that he had been going for her coin pouch, not her rump.
“There was a time when I’d put you away for trying to pilfer from a representative of the law,” she reminded him with a grin, but Ronan wasn’t fazed.
“So, thanks for putting me back together after the dragon used me like a cat toy back at the tower,” he mumbled, clearly having difficulty with feelings of gratitude towards another.
“Saving your life was a team effort, but your thanks are appreciated,” Maggie replied. She finally turned her sparkling green eyes to Aiden, who was feeling rather self-conscious.
“Perhaps if we’d gotten here sooner, we could have avoided a lot of this and saved some of your brethren,” he said.
“Aiden, there was a dragon manipulating my order — there was nothing we would have been able to do, save what we did,” she replied soberly. “Don’t worry about any of the delays, or the problems we had. We got through it all in the end, and I couldn’t have done it without you. Just… try to keep your curiosity under control in future. Oh, and I won’t tell Alain you took those scrolls, since they saved our lives in the end.”
“I took them?” Aiden replied, aghast. He had speculated about how they came to be in his scroll case later on, but he had no recollection of stealing them.
“You don’t remember?” Ronan asked. “Pity, I thought it was slick work, too. As soon as his back was turned, away you went.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Professional courtesy,” the sailor replied blandly. “Besides, if Alain really wanted them, would he have left them out on the table like he did?”
“Don’t encourage him,” Sir William warned gruffly. “He has the makings of a fine, upstanding gentleman and shouldn’t be practicing such behaviour. Had I known of the theft, I would have reported it immediately.”
“Good thing you’re half-blind, then,” Ronan muttered.
“Alright, that’s enough bickering,” Maggie interrupted. “I’m going to report to the duke and let him know of our victory.”
“Will he even believe you?” Ronan asked.
“He will when I show him this,” she replied, pulling out a large claw from her pack, taken from the remains of Vindictus. “I couldn’t fit the head in, so this will have to do. But there’s one last thing to take care of.” Aiden stared at her blankly while she gave him a curious look, until he suddenly figured out what she was talking about.
“Women like hugs,” she said as he knelt down and embraced her. “Except for Val… I don’t think you should try this with her.”
“Words of wisdom,” Ronan smirked.
“Well, good luck to you, gentlemen,” the raelani druid said awkwardly. “I do hate to leave you like this, but it’s something I have to do. I’ll send word to you once I’ve sorted all this out, and we might even meet again in the near future.”
“God-willing, we shall,” Sir William said firmly as Maggie smiled back at him.
“We certainly showed that dragon what-for, didn’t we?” she said wistfully as she turned to walk away. It was a bitter-sweet moment for all of them, and despite her obvious reluctance to leave, Aiden respected her decision.
“Oh, one last thing, Aiden,” she said over her shoulder. “Criosa is in love with you, so be nice to her. Goodbye!”
Aiden was taken aback by this last comment, and both of his companions burst out laughing when he turned to look at them for advice.
“Okay, settle down,” Aiden grumbled, feeling his face flush. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to keep heading north while we have good weather. If we ride hard, we can make Kingswood by nightfall.”
“That’s a good idea,” Ronan agreed as his laughter subsided. “And I can educate you a little about women along the way.”
Aiden’s prediction held true, with the three men arriving at a place called the King’s Rest, a modestly sized inn a few minutes off the main highway just as the sun was setting. Kingswood was a small logging community they’d passed on the way south nearly a week earlier, but had been making such good time they hadn’t needed to stop here. The smell of wood-smoke and hot food wafted on the cold breeze.
It was the first hot meal they’d had in days, and all three of them ate their fill of roast chicken and potatoes, gravy and hot buttered bread. Aiden could hardly move after the meal, his limbs sore from the ride and his stomach swollen from one too many helpings. Sir William dozed off in his chair in front of the fireplace, while Ronan amused himself by talking to one of the lovely waitresses who had served them that evening.
Aiden excused himself shortly afterward, heading up to his room for an early night. He had no intention of sleeping just yet, however, for this would be the first opportunity for him to examine his new findings in detail. Unfortunately, he had neglected his hygiene for one too many days, and decided a hot bath would be a good idea at this point, giving him the brilliant idea of combining the activities.
So it was that he sat in a steaming bath of hot water inside the large room he had taken for himself, reading through the information presented to him by the Lexicon’s shimmering pages. It was a relaxing way to study, and one that he would have to avail himself of whenever he had the opportunity. He also pondered what had caused him to steal the scrolls from Alain’s work bench, but for the life of him he couldn’t recall it happening.
After an hour of that, he dried himself off and piled under the covers of his bed, still enraptured by the small pictures and complicated language before him. The text was becoming a little clearer as he went on — he could now understand certain glyphs with the objects depicted next to them, such as “hand” and “wheel”.
Aiden wrapped his hands in a towel before retrieving the crystal sphere from his pack. He nestled it in the blankets before him and with a deep breath, carefully took hold of the device. Aiden shivered slightly at the touch of the cold surface on his fingers, but nothing else happened.
He peered deep into the misty surface, yet couldn’t see anything. Either it had been damaged in the fight, or it required some sort of incantation to make it work. Either way, it was a fruitless endeavour, so he carefully wrapped the sphere in a cloth and placed it back inside his pack.
As an afterthought, he took off the shard that hung around his neck — he didn’t want any dragons messing with his mind this evening. On an impulse, he took out the ancient gauntlet and started flicking through the pages of the Lexicon, looking for the same glyphs as those engraved upon the metal surface.
Aiden eventually located each symbol and scribbled them down on a piece of paper. He recognised one of the symbols as “fist”, and it seemed to be related to this object in particular. Turning the ephemeral pages to that section, he felt a thrill of excitement shoot through his body as he found a picture of the gauntlet itself, depicted alongside a suit of armour it had been part of.
He lost track of time as he struggled to comprehend the language, eventually learning enough to figure out why Alain had not been able to make the gauntlet work — it was locked, most likely as a safety mechanism. By pressing a combination of sigils, Aiden figured out how to remove this impediment and with trembling hands, put it on and stroked the sigil that he interpreted to mean “strength”.
He practically jumped out of his bed as a dull red glow came from
cracks along its length, and a deep, faint hum could be heard. Moving his arm around, Aiden was uncertain about what was supposed to happen. With an eye to experimentation, he reached over to the small table beside his bed and picked up a large wooden cup. It had almost no weight to it, and when he gripped it tighter, the cup shattered instantly with practically no effort.
Astonished by this development, Aiden noticed the gauntlet was starting to get quite warm, and an odour of acrid smoke hung in the air around him, so he quickly pressed the sigil again and the gauntlet went dark. He took it off and placed it near the window to air out, coughing at the awful, thick smell and wondering if it was supposed to do that. In any case, he had a powerful new tool at his disposal.
Satisfied with his research for the night, Aiden was about to put the Lexicon away when he bumped it with his knee, sending the pages whirling around until it settled down once more. Looking closely at the images, his attention was caught by the drawing of a person upon the ghostly pages. There were dark sigils around the form, with lines pointing at various places on the depicted body.
He had yet to interpret these particular sigils, although the drawing of the body itself was somehow familiar. Upon its skin, in stark relief, were strange carvings, etchings of symbols that connected across the surface of the skin. His attention focused on the writing to the side, Aiden delved further into the strange texts until he was able to figure it out.
From what little he understood, this section of the Lexicon dealt with channelling energies, and the implications were not lost on him. Aiden gasped as he realised that what he was looking at was most likely the instruction manual to instilling tremendous power in to a human body through the use of engravings, channels as it were, in the skin that looked just like… tattoos.
Aiden spent most of the night pondering this discovery, understanding that he had something very important to talk to Sayana about the next time they met.
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