Choice (Majaos Book 3)

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Choice (Majaos Book 3) Page 43

by Gary Stringer


  It was a far cry from her initial reaction of revulsion and dread. Back then, she had felt cold, naked and vulnerable without the soft caress of magic all around her. In the months that followed, however, she had witnessed the savage, brutal, violent side of magic and that had tempered her views, somewhat. For the past year, she had been working as a Consultant to the Higher Council of Magic. There was much to be done if Merlyn’s prediction of a revolution in magic were to be realised, but she always came back to Shakaran Castle when her day was done. She took the Corridor to the city gates and walked from there, despite Garald's repeated reminders that she was welcome to use the private Corridor exit inside the castle itself. Irrational though it was, she found the idea of entering this magic-free zone via magical means quite abhorrent, almost like a violation of the castle's blessed sanctuary. It was silly and impractical, but she continued anyway.

  Today was a double celebration in Shakaran City: not only was it the first anniversary of the end of the Chaos War, but it was also Coronation Day. It had been one moon cycle: the traditional mourning period, since Garald's father - Mystaya's grandfather - had died peacefully in his sleep. The king was dead - long live the king! Garald was now King of Shakaran and his daughter was Heir to the Throne. No doubt this would once more restrict Mystaya’s personal freedoms and Eilidh felt a little guilty about how her decision would affect the princess, who was one of her best friends. Even an adoptive sister.

  `Best friends`…`sister`… Eilidh considered those words. A couple of years ago, she'd had no social element to her life whatsoever. No family, no friends. Now she had so many.

  Toli, her other best friend, was as chatty as ever, and Eilidh had on more than one occasion kept her promise to let her have her head and talk without a single interruption. Eilidh glanced at Phaer, trying not to let him see her blushes. She was very fond of him. He was her rock, who was never anything less than utterly charming and completely amazing. After her revelation about the circumstances of her birth and its implications, she had expected him to want to get as far away from her as possible. In fact, the opposite had happened - they had grown very close. It was probably the factor that had given her most reason to question her decision, but it hadn’t stopped her.

  Rochelle was getting buried deeper and deeper under ever growing piles of books and although Eilidh joined her sometimes, the Catalyst had recently admonished her friend to leave her studying and go out to have fun, because she was in danger of missing out on other aspects of life.

  Bunny – or Bernice as she insisted upon these days – was there, too, snuggling up with Tanya. The sumorityl popped over from time to time – always unannounced and usually when one least expected her, but that was just Bernice being Bernice.

  Sitting there in the Great Hall, Eilidh felt simply surrounded by love and she hoped her friends would understand and support the decision she was about to reveal to them. Shakaran in the far South had been the only one of the four free cities of Mythallen never to face overwhelming numbers of chaos creatures, thanks to the Knights of Balance. An act that Garald had acknowledged by offering the silver Knights a place within his borders to be converted into their barracks. The Shakaran City Guard might never have been seriously tested in battle, but they were pleased and proud to offer their strength to assist the other two free cities: Keothara and Baltacha. The former had been an early casualty - the first city to be attacked, but a year on and things were getting back to normal. Restoration of Baltacha, the Breadbasket of Mythallen, had been a logical priority, and was proceeding well. Multidisciplinary teams had also been sent out to the lands of the elves, gnomes and hobbits. Meanwhile, the dwarves had begun to dig themselves out of their self-imposed underground exile.

  As for Merlyon, obliterated by Niltsiar, the magical capital still had one last trick up its sleeve…

  * * * * * When the shield deactivated, an Ancient secret was revealed. Ganieda had hidden not only the Tenth Tower of the Great Library of Magic, an entire undercity as well. Merlyon, it seemed, had been a city built not on two levels, but on three. Underneath what used to be termed `Lower Merlyon` laid catacombs more vast than any previously discovered. They contained temples, a Church of Life, all manner of buildings for magical industry and enough residential homes for numbers exceeding even its former population size.

  An automated Techmagic system had created a copy of every text that was ever added to the Great Library above ground and stored them as a form of compressed raw magic. Any Catalyst could convert the raw magic to Life and activate the spell to create a facsimile of the original text. The Great Library had contained a number of artefacts that were truly unique and irreplaceable, but at leastthe library’s books had been preserved in the undercity.

  A shielded chamber within the library was set aside for use by the Council of Magic and it was to this facility that Gamaliel had directed his mass teleportation from the Maelstrom. It would remain in use until such time as New Merlyon City could be built above ground. Merlana had been the first to discover the undercity, finding a way down through the rubble of the destroyed Great Library. She had explored for a few moments before informing Prime Magus Gamaliel. The Guardienne of White Magic was making a big thing about how the hand of her ancestor, Merlyn, had led her to this historic discovery.

  Eilidh had been working there ever since, for a whole year, but she had made a decision today that would change that. Spirit magic had been officially reinstated as an active member of the Nine Secrets, babies were once again being born with an aptitude for it and Phaer had begun to learn some of the basics of controlling his Life Gift.

  The three Council leaders were extremely interested when Michael Grey and Suzanne reported the details of their Treasure Mountain, and expressed their desire to mend relations between Techmagic and other mages. They, too, had worked in Merlyon Undercity and Eilidh had enjoyed many long discussions with them about Life - magical or otherwise. However, at the end of last month, they declared their intention to leave their work in the hands of others, at least for a time. Michael and Suzanne were going away, taking a holiday - in fact, going on honeymoon, to enjoy time alone together for the first time since their wedding something they both richly deserved.

  That, too, had been an element in Eilidh’s plans for her future - the decision of which she was about to inform her friends.

  * * * * * Bernice Ardra’s actions in bringing herself uninvited to the secure Council Chamber in the undercity had caused quite a furore at first, but the young woman dug her heels in and went on a charm offensive as only she could, until she convinced the Higher Council to listen to her account of her father's work to create sumorityl. Wizard Ryan Adarr had ultimately been tried as a renegade and found guilty of Catalyst abduction and murder. However, since his experiments had been successful - and indeed the sumorityl army had been crucial in holding back the tide of chaos creatures in the Battle of the Maelstrom - the Council decided that his ideas had merit if approached properly. Therefore, as part of his life sentence, he was ordered to work under strict supervision, in a very limited capacity to take his work in a new, better direction.

  One notion was that his life creation expertise might one day help couples who found it difficult or impossible to conceive. Also, many of the sumorityl possessed unique magic and abilities, like Bernice's ability to extract toxins from blood. In time, the mages involved in this work were confident it would be possible to screen out all kinds of harmful substances, providing cures for even the most virulent of magically-enhanced diseases. Eilidh, naturally, had a strong personal interest in this research, but whether it would ever help her in her lifetime was impossible to predict.

  Soon after the end of the war, Bernice had sought out Tanya in the Iciconia Mountains and proved to be a welcome shoulder to cry on when the sumorityl broke the news of Hannah’s death. Tanya was deeply saddened that events had robbed them of the long conversation they had planned. Bernice felt it, too. Really, truly, deeply felt it, as she found
her connection to her vampire heritage faded in favour her now more dominant human nature. Out of the ashes of their grief and sorrow, a new and lasting relationship burst into life. Eilidh and her friends wished them well.

  In addition to her relationship with this one Knight in particular, Bernice had become a liaison between the Knights of Balance and the Council of Magic. Eilidh didn’t generally associate her sumorityl friend with the word `diplomacy` but her vampire fangs seemed ideally suited to the task of cutting through red tape. She was also something of a thorn in the side of the Knights of Paladinia.

  Knight Warrior Lady Hannah Collins was now a legendary Hero of the Chaos War. Some of the stories were true, while others certainly didn't fit Eilidh's memory of events. Most were exaggerated and poetic, but frankly it was no less than her late friend deserved, in Eilidh's opinion. In addition to Eilidh and her friends, the Knights of Paladinia had invited Sir Quentin Marr and Lady Tanya Nightingale to Hannah’s funeral, as a final act of the Alliance.

  Bernice had witnessed a Fallen Hero's Last Words, which gave her an honoured position in the Paladins' world view, but they were greatly disturbed by her revelation of Hannah’s bloodline. At first, they had refused to believe it, but Miss Bernice Ardra would not be denied and they had been forced to confront the issue.The Knights couldn’t disown a Hero – the public on whose goodwill they depended would never allow it. Moreover, it turned out that Hannah’s rule-bending was not uncommon. The Paladinian leadership were in crisis for a time, but eventually they were forced to relax the pure blood ruling, though they were still resistant to elves, dwarves and others joining the Knighthood. Campaigns continued and other proposed changes to the Code were being considered. Only time would tell how far reaching the changes would be.

  Tanya was deeply honoured that Hannah had bequeathed her mithril sword to her. In response, after making a brief stop to visit her family, Tanya had made her way to the Knights of Balance training centre to check up on the Initiates-in-training– particularly those she had recruited herself. No longer a myth, the Knights of Balance had gained considerable popularity and their training centres were bursting at the seams with people of all races. The rapid growth and integration were a challenge, but they seemed to be rising to it

  Tanya herself was famous and the effect of her personal attention on those young trainees was profound. A sea of eager young faces soon gathered around her, but she wasn’t there for self-promotion. “I’d like to tell you all a story,” she said. “A story of a modern day Knight Hero, every bit the equal of the legends of old. She was a Knight of Paladinia, a fine young woman I was proud to know personally, if all too briefly.Her name,” she said, “was Hannah Collins...”

  * * * * * As for Eilidh’s other companions, Jayne left Loric's service, declaring that she simply couldn't keep up with him these days. She joined the ranks of the Shakaran City Guard. As a skilled warrior, she fitted right in.

  When Loric and Callie flew away from the Maelstrom a year ago, their first port of call had been an encampment on the edge of dark elf territory. When Supreme Knight Commander Sir Marcus Braithwaite spotted the silver-blue-sapphire dragon in the distant sky, an obsidian by her side, he naturally assumed it was his beloved wife, the Lady Air, coming back to him. As the dragons drew closer, however, he realised he was wrong. He knew every curve of his love's dragon form and those were not her curves. The pattern of the three colours of scales was different, too. Even before Callie lightly touched down and changed to her elven form, Revered Daughter Calandra, Marcus knew what had happened. He had immediately called for his second in command to take over while he dealt with, “a personal matter.”

  He took the news with typical Knightly stoicism. There would be tears later, but he had a job to do before that could happen. With the end of the war came the end of the siege. The dark elves were no longer a threat. He also agreed to take the injured bronze Brash back home to the aquatic kingdom, to be tended to by Aqua. After all, the Knights of Balance had experience of assisting injured dragons.

  The dark elves, of course, didn't believe the lies of the inferior races. Niltsiar was a demi-god. She could not die. One day Niltsiar would return, claim the world for herself and restore them to their rightful position of power. Sacred texts were hastily edited, such that predictions of her Second Coming were superseded with prophecies of a Third. Their faith adapted accordingly, the high priests claiming the miracle that they had found the oldest version of the scriptures ever discovered and it was obvious that the word `thrice` had been misread as `twice` and that error had been copied ever since.

  * * * * * After leaving the Knights, the dragons’ next stop was the Scorched Desert, whereupon they entered the Fire Realm to check up on what became of the dragon predator and the basilisk. A slightly startled Elder Dragon of Fire greeted his new Aerial counterpart. “Well, that is a truly remarkable turn of events, yes?” he said. “Seems I was wrong. When I said you were lucky not to have killed yourself with that brave and foolhardy stunt of yours, I mean. That wasn't luck; it was skill!”

  He went on to explain that he had been so impressed with the basilisk that he’d decided to take a risk and interfere a bit, changing the magic of the shield to allow the struggling basilisk refuge. It seemed to appreciate it and had been content to stay there. Now, though, it was clear it wanted to leave, and Loric understood. Now that it had dragon reinforcements, it was ready to finish the fight. Callie acted as bait for the dragon predator, confident that her enhanced agility and flying skills were more than enough to keep her out of harm’s way. She wasn’t wrong. After she had frustrated the creature for a while, before it could gain the upper claw, the Penta Drauka dragon froze Time and launched a vicious surprise attack from above. The Elder Dragon of Fire and the basilisk attacked its flanks. The Fire Rage burned fiercely in the two dragons, adding strength to their attack. Loric used the Stone Shield to protect himself from harm and Air Flight for agility and surety of flying. Whenever he sustained a significant injury, Water of Healing fixed him up. The Basilisk used no magic, instinctively knowing not to use its petrifying stare against its magically reflective enemy. Its own aversion to magic proved useful, however, as the predator, deciding the threat was too much, broke free and tried to use its camouflage to escape. It got a shock, though, as the basilisk could sense the magic and pounced, pinning it to the ground. Which of the three combatants got the killing bite was uncertain, but whichever way it happened, the dragon predator was a threat no longer. Its hide was now a rug on which Fire liked to lie in the sun.

  In the past year, the basilisk had once again become a mythical beast, but one very much in the public consciousness. Bards told basilisk stories. Artisans painted and sketched basilisk pictures. They were always very popular. The most popular myth was that it had made a home for itself in a sleepy lagoon at the edge of the Aurora Forest. Callie, for one, was convinced. “I was flying there only the other day,” she insisted, “visiting my favourite old haunts.” She meant Air's old haunts but she had given up on worrying about pronouns. She was the Elder Dragon of Air and she was Callie and she was also a completely new dragon, but somehow it all made sense in her own mind. “I flew past that very loch and I saw it - well, I think I did.”

  “But you can't be sure, can you?” Phaer teased.

  “The sun was in my eyes!” she protested.

  * * * * * Loric, too, had returned to one of his old haunts: the Black Dragon Inn, Avidon City. The war between the Dark Knights of Zhentilon and the Hand of Darkness Liberation Front was a stalemate. For all their boasting, the Knights didn't have the manpower to take and hold the city, but neither could the Hand form a fist powerful enough to smite the strong, organised force at their gate. With the fall of Niltsiar and victory at the Battle of the Maelstrom, peace talks broke out between the two dark forces. A new nonaggression pact was signed, on the condition that the Hand of Darkness surrender one quarter of the city to Dark Knight control. The other side agreed with a condition of th
eir own - that the Black division be reinstated into their Order, all past crimes against the Knights expunged. Supreme Knight General, Lady Amelia Mordent, accepted those terms and so the Hand had once again a full complement of five fingers. Together, the two city governments forged an alliance and wiped the last vestiges of `the corruption of light and balance` from the hitherto secret, hidden places of Avidon, plunging the city into a deep, impenetrable darkness. That could spell trouble for the future, but it would be a long time before they recovered from the Chaos War, let alone considered starting another one.

  That was not a worry for this day; in fact, Eilidh was determined not to worry about a thing today. All she felt was excitement, a thrill at the thought of the decision she had made.

  * * * * * Kismet had appeared in Eilidh's room, a few days ago. It was the first she had seen of him since the end of the war. Mystaya brought him in with the refreshments he was the teapot. “For old time’s sake,” he said.

  He had been sharing some more of his thoroughly entertaining conversation for a while, when Eilidh finally asked him outright, “Who are you?”

  “Why, I'm Kismet!”

  Eilidh rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I mean! I mean, `Who are you`?”

  “I just told you -I'm Kismet.”

  “That doesn't answer my question!” Eilidh complained impatiently, through gritted teeth, determined not to let this go.

  “Yes it does!” Mystaya disagreed. “Don’t you see? He is Kismet: fate, fortune, destiny, that which is meant to be.”

  Eilidh shook her head. “Come on, you know I don't believe in that rubbish because it makes a mockery of free will.”

  “OK, I'll admit the name's a bit of a conceit,” Kismet accepted, “but there is a rational explanation, if you're willing to listen with an open mind.” “How can I refuse?” Eilidh replied. She had always believed that at the heart of all his nonsense, there lay a phenomenal nugget of truth. She didn't accept the whole destiny thing, but she was willing to put that aside for the moment and listen.

 

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