Storm of Prophecy: Book 1, Dark Awakening

by Von Werner, Michael

  “It could be slow acting!” Stacy insisted. “Don’t drink it!”

  Clyde looked over to the Elvin grandmaster with a helpless shrug while shaking his head as though this were a waste of his time. “Your honor, I’m not paid to entertain. I must return to my work.”

  “Why are you so eager to leave?” She asked accusatorily.

  “Well,” he started as though thinking it over, “there are dishes to clean…and more wine casks need to be brought up…in case anyone needs their glasses refilled.”

  Treyfon appeared to tire of this. “You have my permission to proceed.”

  “Are you insane!” Stacy exclaimed, pointing a finger at Clyde. “This man must be taken into custody at once!”

  “She’s been under much anxiety of late,” he said to Clyde as though she weren’t there. The ancient Elf then waved him off with a few back and forth motions from the top of his hand. “Just go, Robert.” Clyde made one deep nod and then began pushing his cart once more. He glanced once her way, feigning that same innocent confusion but betrayed it for only an instant with his eyes.

  No one else noticed it.

  Stacy felt her insides explode with rage.

  Absolutely livid, she pushed Frederick aside. “I’ll kill him myself!” She then lifted her hands as she approached, wanting to end this once and for all.

  Suddenly she felt hands grabbing her arms on each side to restrain her. Frederick shouted “no” just before she could unleash a deadly lightning bolt, keeping her left arm low.

  “Control yourself, young lady!” Came Master Anthony’s strained voiced from her right. Clyde made a show of looking frightened and pushed his cart faster so he could leave.

  “He’s the one we want!” Stacy shouted as she struggled to free herself. “You’re letting him get away!”

  Even as he went past the doorway and took a right into the hall, disappearing from view, Stacy continued to fight against the powerful hands of her mentor and those from her colleague. Everyone gathered in the Masters’ Dining Hall looked on at her as though she were crazy, but she knew she wasn’t wrong. He was right there. Within their grasp.

  Within her grasp.

  “Stacy, you’re embarrassing yourself!” Frederick scolded, still trying to hold her.

  “Don’t be fools!” She retorted through her exertion. At the moment she was so angry that she didn’t care whether or not he was cute. People began to sit down and some stared at her while others stared at their glasses apprehensively, passing looks between them and her. “Don’t drink that unless you want to die!” She shouted when they looked back her way.

  “No one’s going to die!” Anthony insisted.

  Grandmaster Treyfon had already sat down and was having a conversation with other plant specialists. He suddenly let out a hoarse cough. The pairs of hands holding each of her arms froze and all eyes turned toward him. “…Excuse me,” he said as a reflex to those close to him, not seeming to notice the attention he had drawn.

  “Are you alright?” Cassandra asked from his side, her pointy green Elf eyes showing worry from underneath a frown.

  “I’m fine. Anyway, as I was saying, the extract from the Amara plant has a peculiar property, it…” he then went on with his discussion unimpeded. All the guests seemed to temporarily relax. A few more moments passed until he suddenly took a hold of his collar and tugged on the fabric. He began to sweat and his face was red.

  Cassandra voiced her concern again. “Grandmaster?”

  “…I…” was all he got out before he slumped forward.

  “Grandmaster!” Cassandra screamed reaching over to catch him. “Someone get help!” The woman in charge of the healers ran toward him on his other side.

  Stacy indignantly pulled her left arm free from Frederick’s grip while everyone else was frozen in shock. When she pulled on her right, she unexpectedly found the hands still holding her firm. She looked up into Anthony’s face and found him staring back.

  “Do you still doubt me?” She asked quickly.

  “No,” he answered calmly with only the slightest trace of hostility around his eyes.

  “Then release me!”

  “I don’t want you chasing after him, not like this.”

  She frowned while staring hard. “Do I have the council’s consent this time!”

  “It’s not about that.”

  Desperation started to creep over her. “Then what, master?” She pleaded.

  “Patience.” He walked around her along the right, his hand lessening its grip and gently steering her to look toward a corner at the far end of the room, opposite of the door. He lifted his arm and pointed a finger. “Look over there.” She did and saw the Master Cerebist in gray robes sitting at a table with a few others. He noticed her doing this and nodded at the two of them.

  “He told someone?” Stacy asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Who? Can they catch him in time?”

  “As head of the new commission, I’ve already organized several teams to wait in rotating shifts in case of another infiltration. Each team has a cerebist, a seer, and several wizards who specialize in combat.” Stacy turned to look at him, a curious frown creasing her brow. His old blue eyes appeared a deep sea of wisdom. “The team on duty right now has already been alerted. They now know what he looks like, where he is going, even where he is on the premises at this very moment. The seer is watching.” He stopped a moment, gazing at her and letting his words sink in. “He will be dealt with.”

  “How big is each team?” She asked.

  “No more than six.”

  “That won’t be enough, the cult has…”

  “They’re only for the purpose of reconnaissance,” he explained. “Their mission is only to track him and discover the cult’s new whereabouts. You may join them if you wish, but keep in mind that you are only going to be shadowing him. At least until reinforcements arrive. If I speak with my colleague, he can let them know to expect you. Is that your wish? To join them?”

  “Yes!” She replied eagerly, thinking that it was about time. “Where are they?”

  “Probably in a room downstairs, waiting. I’m not sure which one. Let’s ask, shall we?”

  Stacy nodded and then began walking with him across the room in the direction of the table where the Master Cerebist sat. Most people continued to stare at Treyfon, though a few looked her way, seeing her differently. Women held hands over their mouths, and many wept. Glasses everywhere were being dumped onto the floor. The air of the dining hall had instantly changed from one of celebration to one of terror.

  From where he sat, the Master Cerebist held out his hand for her to shake. “You have a keen eye for detail, Ms.…?” He greeted, asking for her name.

  “Clark,” she answered, taking the hand and giving it a gentle shake, “Stacy Clark.”

  Master Anthony spoke next, cutting right to the point. “She wishes to join the scout team currently on duty. Where are they?”

  “They’re in a room downstairs, waiting and monitoring. It’s the first on the left just across the hall from the stairs leading to the detention area. I’ll let them know you are coming.”

  “Good,” she said, turning to leave.

  “Oh, and remember,” Anthony began, stopping her short, “the team won’t be getting any closer than it has to. Don’t place yourself in any unnecessary danger, and don’t let your presence be known. The seer has a good range. Use it. In the morning, I will gather all who can be spared and join you in force. Until then, good luck and be careful.”

  Stacy nodded her assent. “I will, master. Thank you.” She turned and hastened her steps.

  Chapter XVII

  Right after Stacy rushed out into the hallway, she almost crashed into the abandoned wine cart that Clyde had left behind. Even though the two masters had called out to her that there was no hurry when she left, she moved quickly anyway, wanting to meet up with her new associates before the time came to start following him.

  Th
e lines between each stone block on the walls flew by in a flash. Her shoes made light scraping sounds with her passing. She descended the stairs deftly with each step, making sure not to trip in her haste.

  It wasn’t long before she passed through the main dining hall, crowded though it was, and had to avoid bumping into people. The hall was a beehive of activity and every color of robe could be seen. The smell of warm food, possibly chicken and fresh bread, filled the air, and the hum of talking and dishes clanking resonated throughout. Heads turned her way. It seemed that nearly everyone stared, no doubt wondering why she wasn’t still carrying a broom, she thought bitterly. She let this slip her mind and instead concentrated on dodging those who crossed her path.

  With some degree of skill and ease, she at last came to the stretch of hall breaking away from the dining area, and slowed her pace to a reasonable walk before knocking on the door. “Come in,” she heard a woman reply. Stacy continued catching her breath while she took hold of the cold metal knob in her hand and felt its lightness for the briefest instant before giving it a twist and entering.

  Inside was a long room with a table of orange-brown wood running through its length toward the other end. Chairs that matched it and many that didn’t lined its sides and were pushed in. A few light orbs hovered up and down above the long table, and it was clear that it was a room meant for study though none other than the five people she saw were currently present.

  She was greeted by four serious faces that looked on at her entry and one that looked at nothing because his eyes were tightly closed. The person who had his eyes closed was the seer: a young man wearing robes a lighter shade of blue than her dress, who stood in front of the table’s end in a motionless trance, holding tightly onto a wooden staff to steady himself while he projected his awareness outward. Beneath his head of light brown hair rested a person blessed with the vision, and in his current state, it didn’t seem that he was even aware that Stacy had entered the room. His mind was elsewhere, perhaps even in a more direct sense. Those with this vision were rare; she doubted there were more than even a dozen at Gadrale.

  Standing to the right of the preoccupied seer and the edge of the table was an Elf man with long black hair hanging behind his pale pointy ears. The clean red robes he wore let her know immediately that he was a pyromancer. He blinked several times while looking at her. His strange yellow-gold Elf eyes made him appear as though he were staring with a greater amount of concentration and a sharper, more bulging intensity than he really was.

  Left of the seer stood two men she recognized but didn’t know. She had seen them only once before when she faced a hearing in front of the Council of Masters along with Vincent, Karl, and Rick. They were the two guards who had brought Vincent in and taken him away after his verdict had been issued. The two men were not old enough to be masters themselves but were not young either and appeared more seasoned than most.

  One was a brown haired botanical mage with a handlebar mustache, a small beard running only in a line down the front of his chin, and a wicked scar across his right jaw. He wore drab work clothes, a knife at his belt, and stood with his arms folded. A bag with a strap over his left shoulder hung at his side, and a flap covering the top prevented her from seeing what was inside. Even with his arms crossed, he absentmindedly fiddled with something small between his thumb and fingers, possibly a seed. His brown eyes looked on, anxious for the pursuit. The other, a man with fair hair, was someone who shared her profession but one whom was old enough that she had never met him in any class. He was holding an instrument which Stacy found peculiar: a long iron rod which he carried as a staff.

  The fifth person was a blonde woman in a gray dress standing left of them who Stacy guessed to be in her thirties. She was the cerebist that had been alerted. “You must be Stacy Clark, welcome,” she greeted.

  The man with the bag and the seed spoke next. “Having you with us will be like a toad having another wart on its back, but you’re welcome to come anyway.” The cerebist sighed.

  “Don’t mind him,” his friend said, “he’s just bitter because we were supposed to be getting off soon.”

  “He’s not the only one,” the Elf put in from off to her right. “First Magnus’ brutal training and now this. I should have stayed in Edris.”

  “I’ve heard other people say that too,” Stacy commented, “about Master Magnus, I mean.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, if it’s any comfort I’ve had a long day too.”

  “It’s not,” the botanical mage said, still fiddling with the seed, “other than knowing that you won’t chipper talk us to death.”

  “Oh, I won’t,” Stacy affirmed. “Not after sweeping dust all day with a broom. Of that you can be assured.”

  He barked a laugh. “Is that all you got for what you did?”

  “You try it all day for seven days,” Stacy snapped back.

  “Don’t keep the masters in the dark next time and you won’t have to,” he retorted snidely.

  Stacy let out a sullen sigh. “I know,” she said simply.

  “Would all of you please keep quiet!” The seer suddenly scolded, not opening his eyes or budging. “I’m still new at this and it’s easy for me to lose focus with all these distractions!”

  “Great, a novice…” the man with the seed muttered under his breath, looking off to the side. “Where is he anyway?”

  “He’s out on the campus going down the main walkway toward the outermost gate. He still doesn’t suspect anything.”

  The other unfolded his arms and tweaked his mustache. “That’s far enough,” he said impatiently, “let’s go.”

  “If he looks back and sees us outside of the gatehouse, he’ll know something is wrong,” the seer pointed out.

  “Then we’ll wait behind the wall next to it,” the mage suggested irritably, “you can see through that, can’t you? Now let’s go before he gets too far ahead.”

  The seer grudgingly acquiesced, opening his brown eyes, and Stacy left with the five of them out into the dining hall. After they avoided enough people, they entered a wide, tunnel-like passage lit by light orbs at regular intervals amidst the dark. The seer stopped once again to check on their quarry. When he reported that Clyde still hadn’t left the campus, they continued on. At the pair of iron double doors leading to the outside, the atmomancer with the iron rod pulled on one and held it open for the others, including herself, to pass through.

  In the courtyard surrounding the keep separating it from the high defensive wall, they walked purposefully around the corner on the right and toward the gatehouse. A few well-placed light orbs on the outside of the keep kept the area lit, but a small amount of darkness still settled here and there. Stopping behind one of the large square flanking towers, they waited again while the seer confirmed his position.

  “Okay, the gatekeeper is just opening the gate for him…and now he is leaving the campus.”

  “If it’s that same old man, I’ll wring his neck.” Stacy threatened.

  “What?” The dark haired Elf asked. The others stared on in confusion.

  “When my friends and I went after him the first time, there was this old man at the gate, and we warned him not to…you know what, nevermind. Let’s just keep following him.”

  On that she got no argument, and they walked quickly through the stone gatehouse under the raised portcullises and out onto the campus. Few people were walking between buildings yet one could see a woman here, a Dwarf there, and all was quiet save for a pair of friends talking outside the gardens off to the right. Stacy saw no signs of an alert and thought it must have required a special effort on Master Anthony’s part to keep the guests from causing a hysteria and ruining the operation.

  Halfway down the paved middle road that led from the gatehouse to the outer gate of the grounds, the seer stopped again to maintain his surveillance. Stacy looked through the far away iron bars of the gate, seeing no sign of Clyde’s presence and then looked back to the seer, who had
his eyes closed once again and was leaning on his staff firmly. She had heard about seers and seeresses performing this strange function but had never before witnessed it herself.

  “Do you have him?” The botanical mage asked.

  “I do.”

  Not needing anything besides his word, the six of them started off again. Stacy found herself wishing that they had brought someone like him the last time. After a few more moments of walking, she asked him about it. “What is it like when you do that?”

  He didn’t answer right away and looked over while moving his staff with his steps. “Trying to explain that to you would be like if you were to try to explain your sight to someone born blind. You might tell them that objects and people have an appearance, that they have colors, but that person could never really know what a color is.”

  Stacy was perplexed. “You see things then…things other than what our normal eyes can when you do this?”

  “In a way, yes,” he said. “If I think about a place, I can usually bring it closer and see it, only I’m not imagining, I’m seeing it as it is. Other times I can see much more than that, much more, things that people wouldn’t see if it were right in front of them. The Master Seeress and others can see even more than I, and farther. Eventually, I will too. It doesn’t feel strange to us, but I’m sure it must be a world apart for you.”

  “Fascinating,” Stacy remarked, “and your gift does not include prophecy?”

  He smiled. “No, only street charlatans and madmen make a claim to that.” Stacy frowned and the blue robed man with an iron rod looked over as well. The seer caught on to this and added something further. “I’m afraid that I don’t know enough about how you two read the stars to tell one way or the other…” he began to appear uncomfortable when they said nothing, “…does it…work?”

  Stacy relaxed her features and let out a slow breath. “It’s not as exact as that,” she began. “It’s not like fortune telling. It’s more like…vague impressions. Any message that the stars leave us is more like the initial breeze from the coming wind: It doesn’t give us too many details, just an idea of its direction and what it brings.” Vincent’s former guard nodded at this but kept silent, turning his head to look once more in front of them.