Watch, was all it said.
“Don’t,” Trel said harshly. “Go. My friend, for the Gods’ sake, go!” Trel knelt on the ground, placing the crystal in front of him. “They’ll need you. It’s the only way.”
The older Mage bowed her head in defeat. “So be it,” he said finally.
Trel’kor faced the passageway, rolling his sleeves back to bare his arms. He raised the knife, placing the crystal carefully.
Tal watched in horror as the Mage raised the knife and slashed his own throat open, holding the crystal underneath to catch the blood. The flow of blood was impossible; it shouldn’t have all been coming out that fast.
The man’s body crumpled to the ground as the spell the Mage had cast finished sucking the blood from it. The blood crystal was no longer dark; instead it glowed with a bright fury that would have matched the sun itself.
And then it wasn’t glowing; it was changing, expanding. Spreading out and turning dark. It reached the walls of the passage and kept going, appearing to spread out through them as it faded from bright red, to maroon, to the brownish-black of the Last Chapel’s barrier.
You are Trel’kor, Tal said. It wasn’t a question.
Yes, the voice replied simply. Only the greatest spells have spellminds – for only the greatest spells take a human life to cast.
The Chapel of Life is the same, though. They… Tal could not see the Life Magi using such a spell as he’d just seen.
No, they didn’t, Trel said calmly. They used a different magic. They did create sentience in the magic, but it took a hundred Life Magi. It is also fading. When it was created, it guarded the entire population of the inner Citadel and beat back the assault of the entire Swarm. Now, it guards only a small garden.
Their speech had not interrupted the vision. As Tal watched, dozens of Swarmbeasts came boiling through the tunnels. They paid no attention to the barrier; controlled only by their instincts and their Swarm Masters, they had no regard for their own lives. They overwhelmed barriers by sheer force of numbers. All barriers, except for this one. The Swarmbeasts struck this barrier and died.
As Tal watched, the vision slowly faded.
Again, he floated in the darkness.
Do you understand, Initiate Tal’raen? the spellmind – no, Trel’kor – asked.
I’m not sure, Tal replied. I think I do…
Our nature is Death, Tal’raen, the mental voice of the long-dead Mage said. We are soldiers. We are nothing more, and yet nothing less. We have our duty, our sacred call. We are Battlemagi. We are Judges, warriors, and guardians. But our essence is Death. Our greatest magics will claim a life in the casting. The Sanctuaries, the Hawk Amulet… each of these claimed a life.
Tal tried to nod, but found his body was still missing. I understand, he thought.
Good, Trel’kor said gently. It is in you to do great things. Whether they are glorious or terrible… that remains to you and to those who would stand by your side.
You may pass, Adept Tal’raen, the spellmind told him, for you have passed my test and are now Accepted.
Tal’s foot hit the ground on the other side of the murky curtain and he stumbled. He looked around, seeing the black starkness of the Last Chapel, lit only by darklight, for the first time ever.
He drew himself to his feet and faced the trio who stood by the altar: the Council of Three. To the side, Car’raen watched silently.
Tal looked over them, and asked quietly, “How long?”
Shej’mahi shrugged. “Moments, no more,” he told Tal, straightening. “Tal’raen, Initiate and Accepted of the Death Magi, approach the altar.”
Tal walked down the path slowly, his eyes glancing over the darklight crystals in their black granite emplacements. He felt a spell tug at him, and threw it off.
He glanced up at the Swearers, and realized what he’d done. With a sheepish grin, he slowly released his shields, allowing the spell to take hold and Shift him.
The black hawk hobbled along on foot for a moment before taking to the air, carefully flying down the aisle. Halfway down, the spell released him and Tal stood where the hawk had been.
He stopped before the altar, facing Shej’mahi and the High Priests.
Shej’mahi stepped forward to face him. “Tal’raen, Initiate and Accepted of the Death Magi. Kneel,” he commanded.
Tal sank to his knees.
Kir’ani, High Priestess of Silsh Tekat, stepped forward. “Initiate Tal’raen, for five years you have been an Initiate of Death,” she said quietly, her voice hushed in this most sacred of places. “Before that, for five years you were a Novice. You have passed all tests and done all things asked of you in this time. As a student, you are done your Initatehood.” The woman stepped back to stand by the bust of her god.
Lor’dals, High Priest of Shet Ronen, took her place. “Initiate Tal’raen, for ten years the magic has grown in your body and your mind,” he told Tal. “Your training has shaped and aided that growth, and it is now complete. As a Mage, you are done growing and are done your Initiatehood.” He stepped back to stand beside Kir’ani and in front of the bust of Shet Ronen.
Shej’mahi took his place, standing at the tip of a triangle with Kir’ani and Lor’dals as its base. “Initiate Tal’raen, in both power and training, you are a Mage,” he said simply. “It is not the custom of the Kingdom of Vishni to simply allow young Magi to walk free and begin practicing. You are young and untested, and thus are not a full Mage. However, I must now ask that you once more take the Oath, to bind yourself to the Cause.”
Tal inclined his head, and focused, bringing the words of the Oath to the forefront of his brain. “I swear to stand between the innocent and destruction, between Order and Chaos, between innocence and war,” he avowed quietly, the words flowing easily for him. “I swear to wield death in the defense of life and only in that defense. I swear I shall not wield death for my own gain. I swear to serve and defend those who cannot defend themselves. I swear to be the ultimate order that preserves all. I am the binding; I am the end. I am Death.”
As one, the three Swearers spoke in response. “Death is in you,” they said flatly. “Death is you. The Kingdom of Vishni accepts your magic, your power and your service. Your oath is accepted.”
Shej’mahi stepped forward, offering his hand to Tal. “Rise, Hawk Adept Tal’raen.”
Tal slowly stood and turned to face Car. “Hawk Car’raen,” he greeted his father. “It is good to see you again… at last.”
He watched as Car winced. “I deserved that,” the Mage admitted. “Things have been going to hell in a handbasket all across Vishni, and I’ve had no choice but play fire fighter.”
Tal looked carefully at Car, glancing down over the burns and rips in his robes. “I get the feeling that I shouldn’t be planning to return to Brea’s party,” he said softly.
Car nodded. “We have to leave immediately,” he said regretfully. “There was a reason we raised you to Adept early. We need you. There’s a Drake Mage on the run at the moment. He kidnapped one of our most promising young novices and broke free a captured spy.” Car paused. “One of the spy’s captors was me. I was there when this Mage broke in. I fought him… and I lost.”
Tal started at Car in shock. Car was supposed to be the most powerful Mage alive, his natural abilities enhanced by the amulet he wore.
Car met Tal’s gaze. “At the very least, I need another Hawk Mage to fight him,” he said quietly. “You’re the only one free.”
Tal swallowed. “When do we leave?” he asked.
“Now,” Car told him.
Tal hesitated. “I promised…” he trailed off.
“We don’t have time, Tal,” Car said. “Every moment we delay, he draws closer to the mountains and safety. Even you and I together cannot pursue a Chaos Mage into the Waste.”
Tal nodded slowly.
Brea stood by the door, waiting. The party was slowly dying down, people drifting out into the summer night. Tal had been gone nearly three h
ours.
She continued to stand by the pillared door, waiting for him. He’d said he’d come back. He will come back.
A black-clad figure crossed her sight and she walked towards them. Then the Mage turned, and she realized it wasn’t Tal. It was the Mage who’d escorted him away.
She inclined her head. “Battlemage,” she addressed him.
The Battlemage returned the gesture of respect. “Adept Brea’ahrn,” he greeted her. “What can I do for you?”
“I was wondering where I would find Tal’raen,” she asked. “He told me he would return here, but he hasn’t.”
“I see,” the Mage said softly. “I am afraid that is a promise he would not have been able to keep.”
“What do you mean?” Brea demanded.
“The Adept Tal’raen has been called to Service,” the Mage said simply. “He left with the Hawk Car’raen nearly an hour ago, in pursuit of a Chaos Mage heading for the border.”
“He’s already left?” Brea repeated. The energy seemed to drain out of Brea. “When will they return?”
The Mage looked at Brea gently. “I do not know, milady,” he told her softly. He paused. “I do know that if it had been remotely possible for Tal’raen to return to you before he left, he would have. Keep your trust with him and he will keep his with you.” The man bowed. “Be well, Wolf Adept.”
Brea acknowledged the bow with a curtsy, just before the man vanished into the night. She stood just outside the brightly-lit grand hall, alone in the dark.
“I love you, Tal’raen,” she said to the midnight winds.
Children of the Twain
Stret stood in front of the carriage, staring at the immense natural pillars of stone that marked the pass. The sheer immensity of the mountains impressed even him.
Each of the two pillars that gave the Pass of Pillars its name stretched over a hundred meters into the air, the gray granite carved by wind and rain.
“Aren’t we going to go any further?” Kor asked from behind him.
“No,” Stret responded, not bothering to turn around. “Mau’reek will meet us here, as will the others.”
“The others?” the other Mage asked hesitantly.
“The rest of the Four,” Stret explained absently.
“The Four are coming here?!” Kor gasped. Stret caught a tinge of panic in the man’s voice. The Four were far more feared than beloved as leaders.
“Indeed. We will wait,” Stret told the other Mage as he looked around at the area. “Set up camp behind that pillar,” a short gesture pointed out the one he meant. “The pursuit hasn’t shown itself yet, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t around. Let’s not make ourselves obvious.”
As the carriage began to bounce over to the immense rock, Stret pulled his robes around himself and contemplated the Pass. Once he passed through, there was no turning back. Ever.
The two hawks fluttered to the ground and Shifted. Tal stood, brushing dust off his formal white robes. He glanced to the north, at the immense stone pillars rising above the pine trees.
“Are you sure he hasn’t entered the pass yet?” he asked.
“He hasn’t,” Car said assuredly. “They seem to have stopped at the Pillars. It’s as though they’re waiting for someone.”
“Well, in that case, we’d better beat whoever it is they’re waiting for to them,” Tal said calmly. He turned toward the Pillars and began to walk.
The trees thinned out rapidly as the pair of Magi approached the entrance to the pass. Car raised a hand as they reached the edge of the forest. Obediently, Tal stopped, waiting to see what his teacher and father wanted.
As Tal watched, Car nodded, as if listening to someone Tal couldn’t see, and closed his eyes. Tal felt the magic spread out from his master, searching for their prey.
Tal looked around, using his magic to enhance his eyesight. He swept his gaze across the pass, then swept back when he saw it. A purple-robed figure stood unmoving in the center of the pass, looking up it toward the Waste.
“Car,” Tal said quietly.
“I see him,” the older Mage replied. “I think that’s Stret’sar.”
Tal focused and used Form Sight. The shape was suddenly overlain with the vicious lizard-like form of a Drake. “Drake Mage,” he stated.
“Aye,” Car agreed. “That’s Stret’sar for sure, unless one of the Four is here.”
“Are they?” Tal asked.
Car hesitated. “I don’t think so,” he said finally. “I can feel something, but they aren’t right here.”
“All right,” Tal told his father quietly, mentally steeling himself for his second battle ever. “Let’s do it.”
Stret didn’t know what made him turn around, but he did it barely in time. As he turned, two fireballs burst from the woods, arching towards him. His shields barely snapped into place in time to stop them.
“Kor, Jia! Here!” he shouted, using magic to make his voice boom off the cliffs. An instant later chaos fire flashed from his hands, setting the edge of the forest on fire.
An immense gust of wind put out the flame, and two figures strode out of the smoke, dressed in formal Battlemage black and white.
Kor and Jia arrived moments later, in time to lend their strength to the shield Stret raised against the Battlemagi’s next attack, a swirling storm of lightning.
They’re powerful. Very powerful. His eyes were sharp as the two Battlemagi closed. “Car’raen,” he recognized the elder quietly. “Who is the other?”
Whoever the other was, they were strong. The Chaos Flare the three Chaos Magi unleashed next would have incinerated one of the stone pillars they fought between. It hit the combined shields of the two Battlemagi and slid away like water off a slanted roof.
Stret’s eyes narrowed as he concentrated, and a lance of chaos flashed from his hand, splitting the shields apart. “Kor, Jia, hold the other,” he snapped. “I’ll take Car’raen.”
The Kingdom’s Magi had stood by while his first life was destroyed. They wouldn’t stop him building another.
Moments after the combined shield was broken apart, Tal came under attack from the two weaker Chaos Magi. His shields wavered under the combined attack.
He concentrated, raising a second layer of stronger shields under the first, and then allowing the first to drop. The result for the two Chaos Magi was similar to throwing a punch that didn’t impact; they went off their mental balance.
Tal lowered his hands, facing his palms out. Lighting slashed out from them, hitting the shields of the two Raven Magi. The two Magi had interlaced their shields, and their combined power managed to stop his attack. Barely.
He continued to hold the lightning on them, forcing them to use all their strength to just hold off that one attack. He increased its strength, adding a third and fourth swirling line of electric fire to the attack. The two Chaos Magi still managed to hold him off.
Tal grunted with effort, impressed in spite of himself. He shrugged, and a moment later, fire surged up from the ground under his opponents’ feet. They tried to dodge, their attention flickered, and lightning flared through the shields to hit the younger Mage.
A single scream ripped through the pass, to be cut off with a sickening suddenness as the lightning turned the man to ashes.
“Kor!” the other Mage screamed. He turned back to Tal and tears were streaming down his face. “You murdering bastard!” he screamed, and attacked.
Tal took a step backward as the fire slammed home, powered by the fury of the man’s rage. It drove through his shield, and Tal instinctively threw his hand up in front of his face.
It was the hand holding Kove’tar’s old sword, and the flame hit it like a hammer. Even the finely-wrought hard-forged steel of the Islander blade could only resist that flame for a moment before it vaporized in the heat.
A moment was enough for him to adjust his shields, stopping both flame and the fragments of the sword from reaching him. He waited to be sure he’d stopped the flame, and then rai
sed his hand. The multicolored chaos fire redirected itself to his hand, gathering just in front of his palm.
The fire stopped coming, and the Chaos Mage backed away, his eyes fixed on the ball of flame. Tal looked at the flame and shook his head.
The shifting colors of the chaos fire slowed and stopped. A moment later, the fire turned pure white, and Tal sent the ball of flame hurtling back at the Chaos Mage. Burning with the Mage’s own power, it cut through his shields like they were paper and sent the Mage tumbling backwards. This time, the dead man didn’t scream. His lungs had been destroyed in the impact.
Then a sound, half scream, half… something else… sounded, echoing through the Pass of the Pillars.
Stret felt Kor die, even before the Mage started to scream. He cursed silently, but couldn’t afford the time to mourn the loss of the older Mage. His eyes turned cold as he faced the Hawk Car’raen.
They’d pounded each other with every trick they both knew, and Stret knew he was winning again. Not only that, but it was almost easier this time. It seemed he’d grown in power, and Car’raen had stayed the same.
He had to finish it. Finish it before the other Battlemage intervened. That Mage was incredibly powerful, certainly more powerful than Car’raen.
Stret paused a moment, taking Car’s attack on his shield while gathering his power. He deflected the Hawk’s attack with ease, and unleashed a Chaos storm. Chaos fire, chaos lighting and simple pure chaos flashed across the evening sky.
The Hawk’s shields held. Stret began to move, even as the Hawk sent out a furious lightning storm in retaliation. In the light of the battle and the setting sun, the crystals mounted in the amulet around the old Mage’s neck glowed with the blood-red that gave them their name.
Stret lunged forwards. Chaos flared from his hands, hammering into the Hawk’s shields, but it was only a distraction. He crossed the distance between him and the Hawk in seconds, the power of Chaos filling his limbs, allowing him to move far faster than any normal man could.
Children of Prophecy Page 17