Chaosmage (Age of Darkness)

by Stephen Aryan

  At present they were waiting for the Captain of the Shael garrison to return from patrolling before they could press on to Voechenka. His men were incredibly nervous. Every warrior sat or stood with a hand resting on their sword and all were armoured and ready for battle. It would take only a small push to send them over the edge, so Balfruss avoided eye contact and kept his mouth shut.

  The guards were also unwilling to make any decisions without their Captain’s authorisation, even one that wouldn’t put them in any danger. Despite Tammy being in receipt of a letter from the Queen of Shael explaining their purpose, the guards still refused.

  It showed a level of fear and paranoia Balfruss had not been anticipating. So he waited patiently and conserved his energy, while Tammy chatted idly with the guards, subtly gathering information as she went. They probably didn’t even realise she was doing it.

  The voyage to Shael had been fairly uneventful, but over its course he’d come to respect the tall Guardian. She had pale white skin from Yerskania but the height and build of someone from Seveldrom. Her position in the Guardians indicated she had a methodical mind and he’d been delighted to find her intelligent and possessing a dry wit.

  With little to do at sea, Tammy spent her time getting used to Maligne by practising on deck for a couple of hours each day, while he dozed in the sun or read one of the books in the Captain’s limited library. Parrick was an unusual man with eclectic tastes, and amid the journals of famous voyages and studies of western history, Balfruss found books of poetry and even a guide to eastern culture. He was tempted to correct the mistakes but didn’t think the Captain would appreciate him writing all over his book.

  Balfruss spent a portion of each day by himself while Tammy spoke with the sailors. Her position as a Guardian earned their respect and she seemed at ease in their company. A few years ago he would have sat with them, laughing and drinking, swapping stories and jokes, but not any more. Not after the war. Not after what he’d seen in the jungles of the north. Balfruss traced the intricate pattern of the marriage tattoo on his left wrist with the fingers of his right, his mind swimming with memories. He spent a lot of time wandering the corridors of the recent past, listening to the voices of old friends, and inevitably his thoughts kept returning to her.

  After a couple of days at sea Balfruss took off his boots and walked barefoot around the ship. The sailors noticed the thick calluses on his feet, but they knew from the way he walked and lack of nautical knowledge, they’d not been earned at sea. Even then the sailors didn’t ask, but he’d seen them looking at him speculatively from time to time.

  With so little to do each day, as Parrick’s sailors were competent men and women, even Balfruss felt the need for company. During the voyage he and Tammy would sometimes sit in companionable silence or chat while watching the waves. She would tell him a little about herself and he would share what he felt comfortable with about the last few years since the end of the war. She didn’t press him for more details, which he liked about her. But he also knew she was smart enough to fill in some of what he’d left out. Likewise, when she’d said there was no one waiting for her back home in Perizzi he’d spotted the lie. They both had parts of their life they wished to remain private.

  Balfruss tried talking to the priests, but he found them to be a pious group who made him uncomfortable. It wasn’t long before any conversation returned to their religion and way of thinking. After his travels in the north and all that he’d witnessed before the war, the established faiths no longer seemed to intimidate or impress him as they once did.

  The priests’ devotion to the Lady of Light was very different from what he remembered seeing a few years ago. Now the Lord of Light was rarely mentioned and his companion had become dominant in the church. Tammy had told him that those priests from the church of the Holy Light who were more interested in getting rich and doing little real work, had all but disappeared. Now those who followed the Lady of Light could be found in some of the worst places in every city, offering comfort to the poor, the diseased and the dying. The churches had become refuges where every coin donated was spent on helping clothe, feed and support people, not lining the coffers. The priests on board ship had not completed the Iron Challenge or taken the Long Walk, but nevertheless they’d endured a crucible of the soul, as each had haunted eyes as if they carried the weight of many. As someone who had enough demons of his own, Balfruss did his best to avoid long conversations with them. Nevertheless he could respect their dedication, even if he didn’t want to spend too much time with them.

  The only exception was the lone plague priest, a blond-haired man called Kai. He had a dark sense of humour and sarcastic tongue, which meant he also spent much of the voyage alone. Balfruss thought himself a decent student of history, but he’d never heard of Akharga. Kai assured him that it was a very old religion, with its roots in some of the earliest records, but with no way to check, Balfruss had to take him at his word.

  The sound of raised voices brought Balfruss’s thoughts back to his surroundings in the garrison, where the Shael guards were drawing their weapons. He looked across the room at Tammy and raised an eyebrow, but she shook her head and gestured for him to stay put while she investigated. A few minutes later she returned with a haggard Shael warrior he’d not seen before. The relief in the room was palpable and Balfruss saw the guards relax at the newcomer, who had to be their Captain.

  Every Shael warrior in the garrison was lean with a gaunt face, but the Captain made them all look fat by comparison. His grey hair was cut close to his scalp and the white stubble on his face did nothing to hide the deep hollows of his cheeks. His deep purple eyes sparkled with so much vitality they looked out of place in such a weathered face.

  “I’m Captain Rees,” he said, sitting down with a grunt of relief. “I know that you’ve come a long way, but before you decide to venture into Voechenka, I think you should know what awaits you.”

  “Any information would be appreciated,” said Tammy, declining the offer of a drink. One of the guards brought a modest plate of food for the Captain, who started to eat with vigour. His armour was still covered with dust as he’d come straight from the saddle to see them. He smelled of horse, leather and stale sweat, but there was no pageantry out here on the edge of the world.

  “There’s no law in the city any more,” said Rees around a mouthful of beans. “It wasn’t always that way, but you’re not interested in history. The only rule in the city is that of survival. The strongest, cruellest and most cunning survive. All others are grist for the mill. The meek and the pious were among the first to die. The rest enslave themselves in different ways in return for protection.” Rees tore off a chunk of bread and dipped it into the gravy on his plate. He chewed slowly as if thinking, but Balfruss could see he was savouring every mouthful. “If you go into Voechenka and get into trouble, no one will come in to help. My orders are to wait three weeks and if you don’t emerge by then, you’ll be declared dead. Word will be sent back to your families.”

  Rees looked up from his plate for the first time to gauge their reaction. Tammy watched him with a calm expression, unperturbed by the news. He glanced around the room, passing over the priests before pausing briefly on the axe at Balfruss’s waist. Rees narrowed his eyes and looked Balfruss up and down, his gaze lingering on his hands, the axe again and finally his face. Balfruss saw Tammy tense, but thankfully Rees didn’t seem to recognise him and returned to his food.

  “My information is weeks out of date, but what I can tell you will still be of some use. Once fear took hold in the city, people started banding together to protect themselves. There were eight camps, five were controlled by criminal gangs, two were independent and we had a garrison. There will be fewer camps now, but your best chance of surviving the first night is to try and get into one of the independent bases, if they’ll have you.”

  “Who’s killing them?” asked Tammy.

  Rees took a deep breath and shook his head. “It changes. F
riends sometimes, enemies on other nights. Sometimes the dead come back to steal away the living.”

  It sounded like the ravings of a madman or a story meant to scare children, but no one was laughing. Rees spoke so matter-of-factly it was unnerving. The haunted look in the Captain’s eyes told Balfruss he’d been in the city and seen these terrors for himself. Normally people would be quick to shy away from such an unsettling figure, but the guards were drawn to Rees because he’d faced the darkness and survived to tell them the story.

  “What happened to your garrison in the city?” asked Tammy.

  “We were overrun in the night,” said Rees. “The guards on duty didn’t cry out because they saw familiar faces in the crowd. Friends who’d gone missing that we thought were dead or had fled the city. Our relief soon turned to surprise and horror when they tried to kill us.”

  Tammy was puzzled, but kept driving forward with questions. “Why? Why kill you?”

  “They offered us a choice first.” The tone of Rees’s voice told Balfruss it wasn’t much of a choice. “To come with them and be reborn. They kept talking about the ‘joining’ or the ‘blending’. Something like that. When we refused they said it would happen anyway.”

  “Did you ever capture one of them alive?” asked Balfruss, drawing every eye in the room.

  “No.”

  “Was it some kind of disease? Did they have any marks or strange bruises on their skin?” Balfruss wasn’t sure if magic was involved or not, but he needed to eliminate the obvious. There were blood parasites that could drive a person insane and make them want to drink blood to spread the disease. Others affected the brain, creating visions that slowly affected the victim until they couldn’t tell the real world from illusion. The First People and the tribes in the endless jungle had encountered and cured many unusual diseases which they’d taught him about. So far the symptoms didn’t sound familiar, but he’d need to see one of those affected to be sure.

  Rees shook his head. “They seemed normal. Healthy, in fact. They were just different,” he said, tapping the side of his head. “We killed friends and strangers and in the morning all of the bodies were gone. The next night many of those we killed came back again. It happened the same way on the second night and on the third we were outnumbered. We fled the city and didn’t stop running until we reached this garrison. I went into Voechenka with a hundred men and came back with six. After receiving my report the Queen ordered the city quarantined. Now we do all we can to keep everyone inside. My orders are to shoot anyone on sight, no questions asked, in case they’ve been changed. I’d like to believe you can help those who are left, but I don’t see how.”

  Balfruss thought that telling the story might have made Rees lose his appetite, but he persisted and was clearly determined to eat every scrap on his plate.

  “How do we find the independent camps?” asked Tammy, breaking the heavy silence that had settled on the room.

  “I can draw you a map of the city and the last known locations of all the camps. All of them are guarded during the day, but you’ll soon know which are run by mercenaries and which by local people.”

  One of Rees’s men went to fetch some paper and ink while he finished eating. As they waited Tammy asked him more questions about the layout of the city and landmarks to help them navigate. Balfruss listened with one ear, but the rest of his focus was resting on a single soldier. His armour was dusty and Balfruss hadn’t seen him earlier, which meant he’d come in with the Captain. At first glance he seemed like all of the other guards, a tall golden-skinned man in battered armour, but there was something amiss. He seemed lost in thought and his right hand twitched uncontrollably.

  “The supplies will be useful currency,” said Rees. “But they’ll also make you a target. No one has escaped the city in weeks, so they’ll be desperate and will try to kill you for the food you’re carrying.”

  “Who will?” asked Tammy.

  “Everyone,” said Rees with a feral grin.

  Balfruss noticed the distracted guard wasn’t following the conversation. So far all he’d done was stare at the floor, but adrenaline began to flood Balfruss’s body, amplifying his senses.

  “Can we borrow a couple of horses to transport the supplies?” asked Tammy.

  Rees shook his head. “They would be slaughtered for meat the minute you set foot inside the city. There are no animals anywhere in Voechenka. No cats or dogs, no birds, not even a rat. You’ll have to carry the supplies.”

  “The Embrace will not be denied,” muttered the guard, but no one except Balfruss noticed. Moving slowly so as not to cause any alarm, Balfruss released the axe at his belt, gripping it tightly in one hand. The guard remained unaware, muttering to himself and shaking his head. Like every other guard his gold-tinted skin was pale, but as Balfruss watched, it regained some of its natural sheen. The gauntness of his features began to fade and the heavy shadows beneath his eyes completely disappeared. The transformation took only a few seconds and when it was over the guard looked healthy and well rested.

  “The Embrace. That’s what it’s called,” said the guard a little louder, and this time his voice carried around the room. “Those who come back.”

  Rees wasn’t really paying attention, but he nodded along. “That’s right. The embrace, whatever that means.”

  “The Embrace will bring you peace. It is glorious.” As the guard spoke he pushed himself away from the wall. His eyes burned with an intense passion, bordering on the zealous.

  At the same time Balfruss stood up, keeping his axe ready to strike, just in case. Tammy glanced at him and quickly scrambled back from her chair, drawing Maligne. The unusual blade glimmered in the flickering torches, catching the light or perhaps reacting to something in the air.

  The room began to empty as the priests sensed imminent violence and ran to get out of the way as quickly as possible. Rees and the other guards drew their swords, forming a ring of steel around the peculiar man.

  “No, no, no,” said Rees. “Sornan. Not you.”

  “What’s happening?” asked Tammy.

  “They got to him,” said Rees. “He’s one of them.”

  “It’s far easier if you surrender,” said Sornan, beseeching his friends with a smile. By comparison their faces were tight with tension. Their discipline kept them from acting, but Balfruss knew all of them wanted to kill Sornan who, until moments ago, had been their friend. “Stand with me and together we will accomplish feats that seem beyond our reach. But now, as my eyes begin to open, I see what can be done.”

  “What do we do, Sir?” asked one of the men. Rees seemed torn with indecision as a range of different emotions ran across his face.

  “I’ve become more than I ever was,” said Sornan, reaching for one of his friends, who batted his hand away with the flat of his sword. “The pathways open to me now are vast and the truth is within ourselves. Don’t turn away from this. The Embrace is the way to splendour and a future brighter than any we’ve seen before.”

  “Shut up!” someone shouted, but the words had no effect on Sornan. His words, rhythmic and almost poetic, had the seemingly familiar ring of ritual or a religious sermon. Although none of the words was unusual, each fitted together in a way that made the skin crawl on Balfruss’s scalp with their strange promises.

  “Look now, brothers and sisters, the dawn of—”

  Sornan stopped talking suddenly, then stared down at the sword sticking out of his chest. Rees was breathing hard, his hands trembling on the hilt, but with a sharp movement he yanked the blade free.

  Nothing happened but Balfruss still reached for the Source, expecting to need his magic. Then something flickered behind Sornan’s eyes. This was something that didn’t belong. He sensed what felt like an inhalation of breath and an echo of something far away experiencing a moment of surprise. The feeling quickly faded and now the light had faded from Sornan’s eyes. Blood, slow and dark, trickled from the wound, and he slumped backwards and died.

  �
��Behead the body immediately,” said Rees, pointing at one of his guards. “You three, build up a pyre and burn it the moment the flames are hot enough.”

  “What was that?” asked Tammy as the guards got to work.

  Rees wiped his blade clean and then sat down, far more weary than when he’d stepped into the room only minutes before. One of the guards returned with a cloak, which they draped around his shoulders. Rees clutched it to him, suddenly cold and shivering as the adrenaline faded and shock took hold.

  For a time the Captain said nothing, his eyes staring into the past, regret heavy upon him as if the cloak were made of lead instead of wool.

  Finally, with eyes clouded by grief, he stared at Tammy and then Balfruss.

  “If nothing is done, that will happen to us all. You must stop this madness before it’s too late.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Kai’s boots echoed loudly on the stone floor of the empty banqueting hall. Walking down the length of the vast table towards his seat, his attention was drawn to the Maker’s chair. It towered over everything in the room. A huge edifice that was a constant, and seemingly eternal, reminder of the first and oldest of them.

  No one had seen the Maker in a long time and yet his presence was still keenly felt around the world. Despite his absence time had not diminished people’s belief in him or his power. There were a few theories to explain his absence, such as he’d grown despondent with the mortals and gone off into seclusion. Another claimed that he’d been driven mad. Yet another that he was actually still alive, living among the mortals as one of them. Kai wasn’t sure what to believe, but throughout the many long years of his life he’d never seen the Maker in person.