“We have to go,” said Myst uneasily. “The people have stopped coming.”
Tair turned and saw that Myst was right. The screaming and shouting was now coming from above them and no one else came running past them from the harbor. With knowing glances, both women moved hastily up the main thoroughfare. The air was thick with the scent of burning wood, as well as other things less pleasant to think about. Red cinders began floating along the superheated air, wafting downward as though the night sky wept for Valdine with tears of blood.
Tair and Myst had nearly reached the second tier when the ship came into view on the river. It smashed through a still-burning fishing boat with its wedge-shaped bow, sending it to the river bottom. The hull was thick and bulbous and sat high above the water. The ship itself was quite wide and was crafted from some sort of blackened metal. No sails cluttered its deck, only a raised dome that nearly covered the entire deck. Cloaked figures stood before dark openings around the dome, their arms outstretched. A lone figure stood at the forefront of the metal cap, its arms resting upon the railing that encircled to steady itself against the debris the ship smashed.
Tair and Myst slowed their pace, watching with a mixture of fear and curiosity as the strange vessel churned against the current, slowed on its own volition, and came to rest despite the the waters surging around it. Red flame erupted from one of the lower figure’s extended hands, spewing up and over the River’s Way. The reddish-orange light brought the attacker’s into view and both Myst and Tair had to stifle their own gasps of surprise and horror.
The creatures were Fire Magi – that much Myst could tell, but they were not human. They were shaped as men, they wore cloaks as men do, and they even moved like men, shifting their bodies against the current that shook their boat. Their faces and hands, however, were beautiful and terrible at the same time. Orange, black, and white striped fur covered their skin, thick tufts of white jutting out from their cheekbones. Small muzzles filled with sharp, elongated teeth were topped with moist noses of pink and black. Intelligent emerald eyes studied the shoreline of Valdine, deciding where to use their magic next. Myst was reminded of the wild cats her uncle had described to her when he returned from Emeryvale. But these stood and moved like humans!
And they knew how to use magic!
“What are they?” Tair said with a suddenly dry throat.
Myst could only shake her head. She knew nothing of what these creatures were.
“HEAR ME, HUMANS OF VASALIUS!”
Myst jumped at the sudden booming voice of the figure standing before the man-cats. A yellow globe of magical light floated upward to shine upon the muscular beast. It was also a man-cat, but of a different breed. Its straw-colored hair hung low from its head down to its broad shoulders. Fur of dark gold covered the creature’s skin, its muzzle slightly larger than the beasts below. It wore clothing, its body covered in shining chain armor and leather. The beast’s eyes were a deep shade of amber that seemed to capture both women as they stared into them.
The creature suddenly roared, exposing wickedly sharp teeth. The sound carried over the tiers and most likely into the wilderness beyond.
“YOU WILL HEAR ME!!” The beast commanded. “For centuries, we have endured the plague of man with stoic benevolence. We have shared this world and our lands in peace. And yet, a grave injustice has been committed against us. Humans have crept into our lands, snuck into our most beloved city of Sirif’Teel and stolen the Purestone from our own temple to Diathanos. The stink of humans is strong, but the blessed radiance of the Purestone is greater still. We have followed it here and we will follow it on into your King’s lands. Until we find the sacred Purestone, we will cleanse every village, town, and city our trackers cross until only ashes remain. Let the flames of Thaealyfis purge your city of human sin!”
In one instant, the four figures on the strange ship released their fire magic upon the river city of Valdine. A glare brighter than sunlight exploded outward as Myst grabbed Tair and continued running. They had caught up with the survivors of the first tier and now their screams mingled with those still standing on the second. A panicked mob began to fight their way up to the supposed safety of the highest tier and Myst lost hold of Tair. She shouted her name, but her voice was swallowed in the swarm of people around her.
Fingers of red death streaked over them, their straight path unerring as they struck the higher levels of the city. Myst tripped over an unmoving body, her eyes scanning the crowd for Tair. The sky suddenly brightened and someone next to her screamed. Without turning, Myst threw herself away from where she stood, barreling over anyone in her path.
River’s Way became a storm of wind and fire.
4
Sajiix leaned against one of the six chairs that lined the crescent shaped table that dominated the Arcanum’s meeting hall. It was here that the governing body of all orders of magic gathered to discuss school-related issues and worldly concerns of the arcane. The head of each of the seven orders – known as the Elementai – convened at this very table, in this room within the home tower to decide anything from the larder budget to the simmering detestation between certain realms.
Sajiix leaned close, examining his reflection on the table’s polished surface. It was constructed of Emeryvale oak, a modern marvel considering the House of Ethaea forbade anyone from harming any of the trees in the massive forest realm. The floors, as well as the six chairs, were also made of Emeryvale oak. Sajiix was quite certain that if any of the druids from House Ethaea ever came to the Arcanum, they would die just from the shock of seeing their beloved trees carved into a meeting place for Magi.
The hall was quite breathtaking. It still impressed Sajiix every time he had business to attend to within. The table sat upon a marble dais of gray, black, and white at the end of the rectangular room. Three rows of tiered benches lined each side of the room with two long windows above them, allowing an excellent view of the still raging storm outside. The highly polished floor reflected the purple bursts of lightning, causing Sajiix to turn away as the light flared brighter than the meager candlelight provided. The table’s single occupant seemed not to notice as he sat unmoving, his elbows propped up and his hands steepled upon his lips.
Arathim Bey was head of the Emerald Order of Magi and Magi Dominus of the Elementai – thus, he acted as the voice of the seven orders of magic within the known realms of Vasalius. With the aid of a chosen second, Arathim ran the day-to-day operations of the Arcanum. This included not only the supervision of the students and their teachers, but also the daily routines that allowed the school to function as a well-defended fortress. Arathim’s position also made him the decider for any matter concerning magic across the realms. The Elementai were all invited to place their say in such concerns, but it was still the Dominus that made the final decision.
“And you believe him?” Arathim asked as he looked over the stack of scrolls and parchment that lay before him upon the table. The Dominus did not mistrust the Zynnashan’s story, but he was curious to know Sajiix’s opinion.
“I have not spoken to Lynth in nearly ten years, but if he says the Highlord is ready to attack Vasalius, then it will happen soon,” Sajiix replied and then added darkly, “if not already.”
Arathim let out a concerned sigh and leaned back into his chair. The man was just past his prime, nearing his fifty-fifth winter. Reddish-brown hair, flecked with gray, grew to his shoulders, while a neatly trimmed beard and moustache of the same color covered his face. Eyes the color of churned earth looked beyond Sajiix as he thought through the current situation. The Dominus wore a simple robe of pale green with a darker shaded cloak covering his shoulders. A large oval pendant hung from his neck by a silver chain, the large emerald within mirrored the flashes of lightning outside.
“The Zynnashans will not stop until the Purestone is found,” Arathim whispered to himself. His eyes focused back on Sajiix. “Do they know who stole it?”
“Only that they were human,” answe
red the Amethyst Magi.
Arathim nodded. “Do you have a theory?”
Sajiix smiled inwardly. He always enjoyed the moment when the Dominus of the Elementai asked him for his opinion. “I do not believe either the Diamond Order or the House of Diathanos would stoop to thievery. Such gains could never be publicly admitted.
“Of course,” Sajiix smiled wryly, “not all disclosures are made public.”
“Explain yourself.”
“Every House of worship would gain benefit from obtaining the Purestone, Dominus,” Sajiix explained. “Even the Nightwalkers would be able to gain some sort of advantage over the other Houses.” The younger Magi noticed the frown on his master’s face when he mentioned those that worshipped the dark deity known as Maalithor. He continued quickly. “The same can be said about our own Orders here in the Arcanum. Having the Purestone on either side would grant benefits of power.”
Arathim’s thick eyebrows lowered considerably as he stared at Sajiix accusingly. For a moment, the younger man felt a pulsing rage at his master for even entertaining the thought that he had something to do with it. The anger flitted easily enough away as Sajiix realized that, although he had no hand in its abduction, he would certainly have something to do with its recovery.
Sajiix laughed softly. “Dominus, please; you know that my schemes and attempts to gain power are always done as a solo effort. It is not in my nature to trust others to do my dirty work.”
Arathim lowered his eyes ashamedly and let out a slow breath. “Apologies, Sajiix. This incident comes at an inopportune time and I am vexed with our current relations with the Seven Houses.”
Sajiix nodded, knowing full well what the Dominus referred to. There are seven houses of worship for seven gods of Vasalius, each god represented by a gemstone that is considered sacred by every priest, cleric, and holy man from every corner of the known realms. In contrast, the seven orders of magic are represented by the same gemstones, but are sought after for different reasons. The Houses covet the gemstones while the Magi use them as tools. This has been a long standing sore point between the two mighty powers – so much so that it caused a devastating war many centuries ago.
And now, tensions were once again on the rise.
“The House of Zephyiates has succeeded in convincing the royal family of Kadoris that all Magi are considered dangerous and have announced that we are no longer welcomed into their lands,” Arathim explained.
Sajiix chuckled. “I wonder how well that sits with the King’s daughter.”
“Ah, yes,” Arathim recalled. “Saerle Abaleen – only daughter to King Abaleen of Kadoris. She is a Magi of the Topaz Order, is she not?”
“She is,” mumbled Sajiix. He had a brief image of Saerle in his mind. Her bright smile, sharp wit, and infectious laughter brought other memories bubbling to the surface. He brushed them away with an angry shake of his head as Arathim continued.
“We have been reprimanded once more by the druids of House Ethaea,” he said as he looked through a stack of parchment. “It seems that a group of apprentices snuck out of the Arcanum one night, camped just inside the boundary of Emeryvale, and built a campfire.”
Sajiix shook his head, “It is a coming of age ritual for the younger Magi,” he said. “It is not their fault that the tree-loving druidic faction has so much hatred for us that they will use anything to slap us down.” Sajiix took note of Arathim’s upraised eyebrows and quickly recanted his slant upon the naturalistically attuned. “Present company excluded, Dominus.”
Arathim waved the half-hearted apology away. “What is worse is that we have received reports that the House of Maalithor has been in negotiations with the Nightwalkers for a mutually beneficial union.”
Yes, Sajiix had heard that rumor as well. A House of worship allying itself with an order of Magi was unheard of. The dark church and the Onyx Order joining forces for their chaotic and evil cause was an even more unnatural event.
“Which leads me to believe that, if anyone, they are the most natural choice as to who stole the Purestone,” Sajiix said with resounding confidence.
“But a Nightwalker cannot touch the Purestone,” Arathim countered. “Neither can one promised to Maalithor.”
“They can touch it, Dominus, they just cannot use it.” Sajiix humbly corrected. “They could have hired someone to steal it for them. Vaal Torin’s wealth is said to rival that of King Jalled.” Arathim sucked in a slow breath that hissed through his lips as Sajiix mentioned the Chancellor of the House of Maalithor.
“Once they obtain the Purestone, just their mere presence around the artifact would dull the powers of both the House of Diathanos and the Diamond Order of Magi,” Sajiix finished.
Arathim leaned forward. “For what purpose would that be?”
“That, I do not know,” Sajiix told him honestly. “But if we can find the Purestone and its thieves before a tradeoff occurs, we can discover that quickly enough.”
Arathim’s gaze returned to scrutinize the Amethyst Magi. Sajiix cringed inwardly. He had not meant to announce what he planned on doing in Kaalmoore. He could only hope that Arathim would see the greater need in this.
“I agree with you,” the Dominus told him. “However, we cannot allow innocents to die just for our own advantage. I want you to travel to Kaalé first and contact either King Jalled or Lord Knight Greeve and notify them of the invasion. Give them all the information your Zynnasha companion gave you. Once done, then you may search for the thieves.”
“Dominus, I believe it would be prudent for me to find the Purestone first. Convincing either the King or the Master Knight would waste valuable time. Could we not send someone else to speak with them?”
“You have connections in Kaalé that most Magi do not. The time spent with your former Guild has given you access to the King and to the Knights that protect him.”
The mention of the Guild felt like a punch to Sajiix’s stomach. The Dominus was going to force him to go to Kaalé; the cursed city was the last place he wished to visit.
“Dominus,” pleaded Sajiix carefully, “someone must be sent to follow Lynth’s trail and find the Purestone.”
“I shall send one of the Elementai,” said Arathim.
Sajiix felt his hands curl into fists as he knew exactly who Arathim would send. The head of the Diamond Order would not be an option as he would be seen to gain too much by obtaining the Purestone. Saras Wisttal, the head of the Sapphire Order, was away on an expedition with the head of the Topaz Order. Erak Karn was the voice of the Ruby Order and was, in everyone’s opinion, too short-tempered and violent to be sent on any form of assignment. Arathim would not volunteer himself for such a mission since he was the one in charge of the Arcanum. This, of course, left only Margas Shek.
Margas was head of the Amethyst Order and only five years older than Sajiix. His station came to him not by skill or measure of power, but by his family’s history with the Arcanum. Sajiix believed Margas to be a vain, petty man whose lust for power nearly matched his own. It was a pity the fool’s skill did not burn as brightly as his desire.
“You cannot send him, Dominus. Before all is said and done, he will allow the Zynnashans to overrun Kaalmoore and the Purestone will be in someone else’s hands before the sun sets tomorrow!”
Sajiix’s rant still echoed down the long hall as Arathim stood to face him. The Dominus had a stocky build and stood two inches taller than Sajiix. The Emerald Magi’s brown eyes were alight with anger and the bearded jaw was tightly set as Arathim leaned close to Sajiix.
“As a member of the Elementai and head Magi of your own order, I suggest you curb your open hatred of Margas and give him the respect that he is due.”
Sajiix had to curb the urge to spit upon the polished floor.
“I encourage competition in the Arcanum, but the animosity between you two is a palpable force,” the Dominus continued. “It is beginning to affect the students within the Amethyst Tower and I want it culled immediately.
&n
bsp; “Margas will be briefed on this situation and he will go to Valdine, but I need you to be our warning cry to Kaalé, Sajiix,” Arathim said with a calmer voice. “If Margas fails, you will be the only hope Kaalé has.”
The rage burning within Sajiix faded to a dull flicker. The Dominus had a way of making people feel needed or wanted – even those he had just insulted. Letting out a long breath, the younger Magi gave Arathim a weak smile. “You are right, Dominus,” Sajiix said. “I will leave for Kaalé immediately.”
Arathim gave Sajiix a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Very well,” he smiled back. “Keep me abreast of the situation and once action has been taken in Kaalé, you shall report to Margas and aid in the retrieval of the Purestone.”
***
Sajiix marched quickly back to the Amethyst Tower, his face alive with anger and resentment. Those students still running errands did everything in their power to avoid him when they saw him coming. Sajiix ignored anyone that tried to speak to him – teachers and students alike. He walked briskly into the wide base of the Amethyst Tower, so named for the location of all the students dedicated to that particular order. Sajiix paused and brought to mind the shadowpath spell. Closing his eyes as his foci flared in the torch light, Sajiix took a few steps backward into the shadows that lined the outer walls and became one with the darkness.
When he stepped out of the black void, he was once again inside his personal quarters on the upper level of the tower. He noticed immediately that the door leading out to the balcony had been closed and any rain that might have covered the floor was gone. The candles upon the mantle were still lit as were dozens of others in the main living area. Beyond the comfortable furniture, an arched door stood slightly ajar with a welcoming glow of candlelight spilling out from his bedchamber.
“Kaelyn,” he smiled.
He moved silently, pushing the door open as gently as he could. The bedchamber was the smallest room in the suite, but its opulence more than made up for its size. A massive bed dominated the center of the room, its four posts carved from dark oak to resemble stone columns. Silk covered pillows filled with down lay scattered over thick, handmade quilts and fur blankets. A small hearth adorned the opposite wall from the bed with a fire crackling rebelliously against the storm outside. Two large windows stood against the curved wall of the tower, framed by thick curtains of purple velvet. Hand-stitched rugs from Vhaalia lay upon the stone floor. A large wardrobe closet, also carved from the same dark oak as his bed, stood just to his left. The only other furniture in the room was a simple desk that held nothing but a brass candlestick and a large mirror framed in silver.
Rage of the Diamond's Eye (The Guildsmen Series Book 1) Page 4