Zaconis - Guardian of Magic

by MJ Schutte

  Angelina dropped her gaze, a slight blush tinting her cheeks.

  ‘Thank you. To answer your question, I do not feel any romantic attraction to him,’ she answered.

  ‘Is there perhaps someone else you are interested in?’ Lilian smiled.

  Angelina shook her head. She did not want to tell Lilian about the man she thought attacked her at the Justice Hall. The more she thought about it, the more she believed that he saved her life. She clearly remembered the feeling of his arms around her and the masculine smell that lingered on her clothes long after he left. Although he held her tight, he did not hurt her. His touch was firm, yet gentle, even after she had bitten him and most likely broke his nose. Somehow those memories caused an unfamiliar stirring deep within her stomach.

  Although Lilian appeared to be in her late twenties, she was far older and with age comes wisdom. She noticed that there was something Angelina was not telling her but decided not to press the issue further.

  Instead, she said, ‘I wonder where Jonathan is. Normally he is the one leading the troops, not Gerard.’

  ‘You’re right. Perhaps he found a girl in Weston and decided to stay behind,’ Angelina mused.

  ‘No, not Jonathan. He is very responsible. He is probably doing something more important,’ Lilian replied.

  Lilian watched the enemy troops from between the trees. The elves were spread out behind her and Angelina, ready to protect the two women.

  ‘See, there he is,’ Lilian said to Angelina as she pointed towards a man in the distance.

  ‘Lilian, that could be anyone,’ Angelina argued.

  ‘I will recognize my husband from any distance. Have you forgotten how long we’ve been married,’ Lilian replied.

  Angelina did not know exactly how long Lilian and Brighton had been together, or how old they were, but she knew it was far longer than a normal person’s life time.

  ‘Fine, I will take your word for it. What are we going to do now?’ she asked.

  ‘I will go talk to him and find out what is going on,’ Lilian said flatly.

  ‘That’s a bad idea! The last time we encountered these people you almost died!’ Angelina gasped.

  ‘True, but what other choice do I have? I can’t just stand here and watch these evil people take my husband away,’ Lilian argued.

  Goralt tried desperately to get Lilian’s attention, but she ignored him. She knew he would simply argue with her and she did not have the patience for that. She pulled her sword from its scabbard and flipped it around, holding it by the blade.

  Looking at Angelina, she said, ‘Keep that cane ready. This might turn into another fight.’

  She looked around but could not see Mischief. As she walked towards the enemy she was still wondering where the cat was, longing for his comforting presence.

  ‘Al’taish, how do you become part of the Elite Corps?’ Imlan asked.

  Father’s troops were loading supplies onto the ships. Imlan helped Al’taish get a barrel of water onto his shoulders, picked one up himself and walked towards the ship. Although Al’taish had seen how strong Imlan was, he was still somewhat surprised at the ease with which his friend picked up the water barrels.

  ‘To understand that, you first have to understand the purpose of this army. We travel to far away lands, such as this one, in search of magically talented people. It is Father’s vision to have all magical beings united under a single leader one day. We also search out the children of the darkness and destroy them. To become part of the Elite Corps, you have to embrace this vision and dedicate your life to it,’ Al’taish answered.

  ‘So it’s all up to Father? He decides who gets into the Elite Corps?’ Imlan surmised.

  ‘Yes, basically. There is one rule though. If you find and eliminate a child of the darkness, you are automatically promoted into the Elite corps,’ Al’taish replied.

  Imlan thought about it for a moment and then asked, ‘Why have you not been promoted yet?’

  ‘Although I carry two hidden blades, I have never harmed anyone. My talent is in the art of thought manipulation. I have never had to use my blades against anyone. Unfortunately, this means that I will probably never be promoted. Embracing Father’s vision and dedicating your life to it seems to go hand in hand with a love of violence,’ Al’taish sighed.

  The two men put the water barrels down on the deck and headed for the shore again. Imlan opened his mouth to ask another question, but a soldier rushed up to them and said, ‘Imlan, Father asks that you join him.’

  Imlan and Al’taish wordlessly followed the soldier.

  Father was standing on the edge of the camp. He looked around and beckoned Imlan closer. As soon as Imlan was next to him, he took his newest recruit by the arm and led him away from the other soldiers.

  ‘A very powerful witch is approaching. She is a child of the darkness and must be destroyed. Are you ready for this task?’ Father asked.

  ‘Yes, Father, I am ready,’ Imlan replied.

  Imlan looked toward the south and saw movement between the trees about two hundred paces away. A woman stepped out of the woods and approached them. Recognition tugged deep within Imlan’s mind, but he just could not remember where he knew her from.

  Patiently he and Father waited until the witch was fifty paces away. She stopped and held her sword up by the blade.

  ‘It is a sign that she comes in peace. Do not be fooled by it,’ Father cautioned.

  Imlan unhooked his bow from his shoulder, ensured hat he had arrows and walked a little closer to the witch.

  ‘Brighton! What is going on? Why are you traveling with these people?’ the witch shouted.

  Imlan looked around, but then realized she was talking to him.

  ‘My name is Imlan,’ he called back.

  Lilian could not understand what had happened to her husband. He looked the same as always, but he did not even recognize his own name. Worse, he did not seem to be a prisoner but rather a willing soldier in the enemy’s army.

  ‘Brighton, stop playing games! Please tell me what is going on!’ she pleaded.

  Brighton shook his head and shouted back, ‘I told you already, my name is Imlan. I am a soldier in Father Zaconis’ army. He is the guardian of magic.’

  Realization dawned in Lilian’s mind. Someone had planted thoughts in Brighton’s head and this was the reason he was acting so strangely.

  ‘Brighton, look at me carefully. Don’t you recognize me?’ Lilian tried. She saw that her plea was not having any effect, so in desperation she decided to change tactics. If she could be connected to Brighton via an energy link for just a moment, maybe he would remember her.

  Her right arm snapped up, a thin line of black smoke jumping from her palm. It slammed into Brighton’s head before he could react. Lilian did not take any of his energy. She simply tried to read his thoughts.

  ‘The witch is attacking! Kill her now!’ Father shouted.

  Imlan swung his bow up, pulled the string back and took aim. Lilian severed the link and ran for cover.

  Al’taish held his breath. He had seen Imlan’s incredible skill with the bow. The witch had no chance of survival.

  The arrow left the bow, chasing down the running woman. It all happened so fast that Lilian could not even summon her talent in order to stop the arrow.

  Angelina watched in horror as the arrow sped towards Lilian. Through the thick undergrowth she could not quite see what was happening, but she did see Lilian fall. She heard the elves behind her draw their bowstrings.

  ‘No! Don’t shoot!’ she snapped.

  She strained her eyes trying to peer through the bushes, hoping to see Lilian, but to no avail.

  Father looked up at Imlan who quickly dropped his gaze, avoiding eye contact. Slowly Father turned his head away and lifted his arms.

  ‘I will take care of her companions in the woods,’ he said softly. Thin lightning bolts jumped from each of his fingers and raced towards the bushes where Angelina and the elves were hiding.


  Angelina saw the old man lift his hands. She knew exactly what it meant. She had seen Brighton use his gift once. The image of Brighton killing the mercenaries who murdered her family was burnt into her memory forever. She closed her eyes and waited for death, knowing there was nothing she could do to stop an energy link. After a few moments, when death’s embrace still had not touched her, she opened her eyes again. A thick black mist had risen from the ground in front of them, blocking the white energy bolts. Lilian was standing just behind the mist, her arms spread wide. White energy bolts slammed into her black barrier, rocking her body with every hit, but her defenses held firm. Slowly she walked backwards. A few more energy bolts slammed into the black mist with deafening thunder claps, and then it went quiet.

  Lilian dropped her arms and with it the protective barrier. She stared at her husband standing next to an old man, both of whom had tried to kill her and her companions.

  The old man spoke to another soldier and moments later, the enemy retreated to the ships.

  ‘Lilian! I thought Brighton had shot you!’ Angelina exclaimed as she rushed to her friend.

  ‘He did,’ Lilian replied softly.

  She kept using her sense to make sure the enemy wizard did not try to use his talent on them again.

  Angelina frowned for a moment before seeing the blood on Lilian’s shoulder. She took a closer look.

  ‘It’s just a graze. You were very lucky,’ she sighed with relief.

  Goralt, who had been nervously hovering close by, also sighed with relief as he stepped closer.

  ‘Master,’ he said, referring to Brighton, then made a few gestures.

  ‘Yes, I know he never misses, but he lost his memory. He is not the Brighton we used to know anymore,’ Lilian snapped.

  Goralt quickly turned up his hands indicating that he did not want to argue with her. Lilian closed her eyes and made an apologetic gesture towards the elf.

  Angelina gently touched the wound on Lilian’s shoulder.

  ‘It does not seem very deep,’ she commented.

  Lilian stuck her hand out and, using her talent, connected to a nearby berry bush. A black line of smoke jumped from the bush to her fingers. She drew energy and channeled it to her shoulder.

  Her forehead creased in a deep frown. The wound was not healing.

  More energy flowed from the bush to Lilian’s body but still the wound stayed open.

  ‘I can’t heal it,’ she whispered as she severed the link to the forest.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Angelina frowned.

  ‘I can’t heal it,’ Lilian repeated.

  ‘Did you get enough energy from the plant?’ Angelina asked.

  Lilian did not answer. She merely gestured towards the bush. Where moments ago a lush bush heavy with berries was growing, only dead wood remained. Angelina only had to take a quick look before she realized that Lilian had taken all the energy from the bush. It should have been enough to heal ten wounds like the one on Lilian’s shoulder.

  Goralt stepped closer again. He gestured towards the ships and said, ‘Leaving. Stop them? Bring Master?’

  Lilian did not look at the ships. She could not bear seeing her husband leave with no way of following him. She shook her head.

  ‘No,’ she whispered.

  ‘Elves fight, win,’ Goralt said defiantly.

  ‘I’ve seen your skills but it would mean certain death. There are too many soldiers and besides, even though Brighton has lost his memory and probably does not have control of his gift, he would still be more than a match for all of us.’

  Goralt thought about it for a moment before bowing his head in a gesture of acceptance. Lilian could see he was not happy about this, but he would not act against her wishes. He reached into his bag and pulled out the yellow leaves he used when Mischief was injured.

  ‘We have to do something!’ Angelina exclaimed.

  ‘Yes, I know. Any suggestions?’ Lilian whispered, struggling to keep her emotions in check.

  ‘I…uh…’ Angelina stuttered but could not think of anything.

  Lilian kept her back towards the ships. It was one of the hardest decisions she’s ever had to make, but she knew it was best to let the enemy leave. She could not send Angelina and the elves to their deaths, no matter how much she loved Brighton.

  Goralt gently pulled Lilian’s shirt away from the wound and applied the paste.

  Chapter 10

  Imlan stood on the ship’s stern watching the land grow small in the distance. In his right hand he clutched a half finished walking stick. He started carving the cane just before they reached the ships, doing a little bit every night when he could not sleep.

  The stern deck was much lower than the rest of the ship. Imlan knew that the helmsman, even from his raised position in the middle of the ship, would not be able to see him. This was the perfect place for someone wanting a bit of privacy. Spare sails, water barrels and other provisions were stacked high against the back railing. Imlan tried to get all the way to the back, feeling like the disappearing land was somehow calling him, but the provisions were in the way. He had to be content with standing on a water barrel to see the land behind them. For a moment he wondered why the spare sails were bundled up instead of neatly folded, but his train of thought changed back to the events of the day.

  He knew he had disappointed Father and squandered a golden opportunity to be promoted into the Elite Corps, but somehow it did not bother him. He just could not bring himself to kill the woman.

  ‘Imlan, what are you thinking?’ Al’taish said softly from behind.

  Imlan turned and quickly scanned the small area. When he was certain nobody could hear them, he jumped off the barrel and said, ‘I’m glad I did not kill the witch.’

  Al’taish gave Imlan a long look before he said, ‘You missed on purpose, didn’t you?’

  Imlan only nodded.

  ‘Why?’ Al’taish asked.

  Imlan knew the question was born from curiosity and not criticism.

  ‘I have been seeing visions of a woman that looks a lot like the witch,’ Imlan replied.

  Al’taish’s eyebrow went up at this.

  ‘Are you sure it was the same woman?’ he asked.

  ‘Perhaps. A moment before I shot that arrow, the breeze blew her hair slightly. It reminded me of what I keep seeing in my visions. It is the reason I changed my aim. I had to give her a chance to get away, so I just grazed her shoulder with the arrow,’ Imlan answered.

  ‘Imlan, you can never tell anyone about this. If Father finds out, he will punish you severely,’ Al’taish urged his friend.

  ‘You are the only person that knows. I trust you,’ Imlan smiled.

  Al’taish smiled back, feeling a little guilty. In the last few days, he had thought a lot about the first time he met Imlan and the witch. From the way they had acted around each other he knew that the witch and his new friend were lovers, possibly married, but it would have been pointless to tell Imlan. The man would never remember any of it. It was best to simply put it in the past and let Imlan start a new life in Father’s army.

  A soldier climbed down the ladder to the lower deck where Imlan and Al’taish were standing and said, ‘Al’taish, Father wants to see you.’

  Al’taish and Imlan moved towards the ladder, but the soldier put his hand on Imlan’s chest.

  ‘Not you, only Al’taish,’ he sneered.

  Imlan slowly looked down at the hand on his chest, then looked up, straight into the soldier’s eyes.

  ‘Touch me again and it will be the last time you ever touch anything,’ he said in a low, menacing tone.

  The soldier quickly pulled his hand away and took a step back.

  ‘Al’taish, uh…Father…’ he stammered, then scrambled up the ladder as fast as he could.

  ‘Yes, I heard,’ Al’taish called after the retreating man, struggling to keep from laughing.

  ‘My friend, you are probably the most unpopular person on the ship for letting
a child of the darkness get away,’ Al’taish said.

  ‘I don’t care,’ Imlan shrugged.

  ‘Don’t worry. I doubt anybody has the courage to start a fight with you. If someone does try, I will be by your side,’ Al’taish smiled.

  He quickly rushed off to go see why Father had summoned him.

  Imlan watched his friend go, then turned around again and stared into the distance. He knew it would have been wise to claim a sleeping place early, but he did not feel like being with the other soldiers, so he stayed at the back of the ship where he could be alone. Looking at the provisions and bundled up sails again, he decided it was probably a far better place to sleep than the soldier’s quarters. He stepped onto the spare sails to make a bed, but a soft yelp came from under the cloth. Imlan jumped back, pulling the knife from his belt. Watching the sails carefully, he saw a tiny movement. Carefully he stepped closer again and lifted the edge of the sail.

  White eyes looked up at him from underneath the cloth.

  ‘Come in, Al’taish,’ Father called a moment before the young man could knock on the door.

  Al’taish entered Father’s quarters and went down on one knee, eyes cast downward.

  Before he could say the traditional greeting, the old man said, ‘Come closer, Al’taish. I have another quest for you.’

  Al’taish stepped closer but still did not speak.

  ‘We are going to change course to the south east as soon as I’m certain we are not being followed. The other ships will continue on to Ethona. We will drop you off as close to the place called Zedonia as we can. You will retrieve the magic bracelet you told me about,’ Father said.

  ‘The bracelet? I’m not sure it even exists, Father,’ Al’taish gasped.

  ‘It does, and it is the only way we can kill the dark witch. She is the most powerful child of darkness I have ever encountered. I’m certain that she will follow us and try to kill me and Imlan again. I want to be prepared for that,’ Father replied.