The Crimson Road

by William Wells

  The Duke stood up in his box, his voice projected by the medallion on his chest, “Welcome to you all during this time of festivity. We have almost two hundred participants in the youth tournament. Let’s see how well they fight for being so young!”

  The audience cheered as the youths were paraded out holding a variety of blunted weapons, most of which were swords. The all separated, trying to not be in a disadvantageous position. Kane and Philo stood back to back, slowly working their weapons around to get a good feel for them.

  I sat on the edge of my chair, ready to watch. Lorraine’s eyes were glued to her sons, while her hand was held by Ash. There was clear ring as if a bell was struck, and most of the participants froze. Kane and Philo were of the small handful that leapt into action and eliminated the four closest to them.

  The rest of the battle was a clash as people made alliances and then broke them to try and gain an advantage. Kane and Philo didn’t join with anyone, slowly circling in order to cover their blind spots. It took them a few minutes to clear a path to the wall where they could put their backs against a hard surface.

  After half an hour, most of the participants had fallen and been looked at by the Healers. Kane and Philo were both panting and their forms weren’t as perfect as they had started out. Everyone left gave them a healthy berth, but they knew enough to not let their guard down. It was when the last person fell that the bell-like sound rang through signaling the end of the melee qualifier.

  A box, and bracket were brought onto the floor by some officials. The young warriors drew lots to determine where their placement would be in the bracket. I felt the wards on the box without even trying as they radiated with power. Not many people would be able to tamper with the drawing and there were only a couple who could bypass the wards without tripping an alarm.

  Luck was not with the boys as they drew spaces close to each other. If they won their first bout, they’d face each other in the second. Even managing to get into the tournament was worth a recommendation to the Warrior’s Guild, and I spotted the head of the City’s chapter very carefully eyeing the participants. There were three females, all of whom carried long staves with a colored end to indicate a spearhead. Kane would fight one of them as his first match.

  Chapter 17

  The Duke called an hour break for betting, and I excused myself. It was a long walk to the other side of the Arena where the Archmage was sitting. Again I encountered a small handful of Journeymen Mages trying to keep order while the populous crowded into the relieving rooms, betting stations, and food stalls. Talkide’s box was guarded from intrusion by a pair of Adepts, who specialized in Destruction.

  The moved to stop me, but halted and grew pale as I stopped containing my power for a brief instant. To a Common, nothing would be visible but it would feel like the air had gone heavy and they would labor for their next breath. It was in this way a lot of mages were of use on the battlefield with merely their presence. No man could fight long when laboring to breathe.

  “I’m Master Gantz, here to see Archmage Talkide at his request.” My flash of power was more than just a warning, each mage had a signature when they interacted with the ether. Few could disguise their signatures, but it served as a way to alert a fellow Mage as to who you were when eyes could not be trusted.

  The Adepts nodded, and stepped aside. They didn’t relax, but a small sigh escaped as they knew how close to death they had come. It would take almost a hundred Adepts to begin to challenge me in an outright battle.

  Talkide was still sitting alone in his booth, waving me over to sit beside him. The door closed behind me and completed a script to prevent unwanted sound from coming in or out. I sat next to the Archmage and looked straight ahead.

  He broke the silence first, “I’m glad you got my message.”

  “We could literally have met anywhere, and only all the other Archmages or Charon would have been able to pierce the veil we could create.” I sat straight, not relaxing despite our history.

  “I may have access to the ether, but my talents don’t lie in the ability to rain fire down on my enemies.” Talkide turned his head slightly, “Nor does it allow me to glimpse the future.”

  I nodded. The Archmage was a renowned healer and warder. The position as the Head of one of the Towers was more about respect from fellow mages, but being powerful enough to save anyone from almost any injury as long as their heart beat went a long way to securing Talkide the title and responsibilities. “So why send the pulse?”

  “I’m assuming you saw the box where lots were drawn?”

  “Of course. It smelled of you, with all the fancy designs and wording to the script.”

  “I admit I do have a flair for the dramatic, but I wanted to know if you could create an identical box.”

  “In a few seconds if all you wanted to do was fool a Common. I’d have to study the warding closely in order to get my signature to match yours.”

  “I’m not the only one who warded the box.” Now Talkide made sure I faced him, “Charon left some words for you when you got to this City.”

  I sighed, “First Ash and now you. If I didn’t know better I’d say my master was only a step ahead of me this entire time.”

  Talkide shrugged, “I’ve tried to find him myself, but despite the efforts of every single one of my Searchers we could not find him in this country. There is a sliver of a chance that Charon has simply shielded himself to the point where he would never be noticed by a Mage, but I find the explanation that he fled the country more plausible.”

  “So what was the message? Ash gave me a story of when he met Charon.”

  A nod from the Archmage, “I have the same permission to share the story with you from when I first laid eyes on Charon.”

  “Fine.”

  “Let me ask you a question first, how old do you think I am?”

  “In your fifth or sixth decade.” I shrugged, “Your powers are beginning to wane a little as your body can’t handle the strain of increasing your ether reserves. You make up for it with perfecting your control over the ether.”

  Talkide laughed, “I’m 63 years old this year. And you are right that once the body is past the midpoint of a natural life span it can no longer compete with brute power. My story is from when I was 25, and the first time I met the man who would become Charon…

  I had passed my test to be an Expert in two Disciplines last year, which put me in the top rankings of mages in power and skill. Rumors were already starting that I was going to be groomed to become Archmage eventually. At this time, I was taking a break from traveling in the Tower at the Capital.

  One night, feeling a little uneasy, I headed to the library in order to study some scrolls as I could not seem to relax enough to go to sleep. There was a dim light coming from one of the reading nooks, and I went to investigate which poor Novice or Trainee could need my help. It was immediately apparent that the young man reading through the forbidden scrolls was not a part of Mage Society based on his rags, accumulated dirt and odor that hit me from a few paces away.

  I stepped forward, demanding to know how this intruder made it past the wards, the guardians and the small group of mages assigned to guard the Tower from intruders. The man looked up, eyes barely visible through the hair hanging in his face. He cocked his head in surprise and told me that no one had stopped him despite him walking right past them.

  My anger rose, and I drew myself up before noticing that there was no sign of spellcasting despite the magelight softly illuminating the area. I threw out my senses, and quickly realized that Charon was manipulating the ether so subtly it couldn’t be detected unless you were looking for it.

  Suddenly it made sense as to how no one noticed him. If he didn’t wish to be observed, then people simply glanced over not even realizing he was there. If he wanted to read, the area would lighten until he could read the writing. There was so much Potential, that it put me to shame.

  I sat across, and began to talk to Charon. Over time
I slowly drew out his story, most of which you know because of how similar it is to yours. It wasn’t until the Records Keeper came across us that I realized it was morning. She almost threw us off the top of the Tower, but I persuaded the Archmage to test Charon with my position at stake.

  Charon passed, making it to Trainee without any visible effort. He was too powerful, and needed the spells to help shape and constrain his power before causing permanent damage to the world. Because he was older, we estimated his age between 14 and 16, he was put on an accelerated track to keep the accidents to a minimum.

  A week passed, with Charon breezing through his classes like it was all review to him. Suddenly my accomplishments seemed so small, and I’ll admit to growing a little jealous at the talent I discovered. It was here that Talia and Charon met, and this is where the beginning of everything had its origin.

  Talia was my generation’s Child of Magic, and a couple months shy of her 16th birthday. She never let it bother her, always laughing and playing pranks. Everyone indulged her, except for Charon. He was the only one willing to yell at her, saying that because her time here was short she should learn everything she could.

  Those two would fight for hours, and Charon spent every second he wasn’t in class or with Talia in the Archives. He spent nights there, most of them sleepless. I asked what he was doing, and he said he was looking for a cure so that Talia wouldn’t die.

  It confused me, until Charon said that anyone who could laugh and smile like that should be out in the world to make it better. I joined Charon, looking through the notes of the previous generations and the cures they tried to preserve the Child of Magic’s life. Most of them didn’t work or led to some disaster that hastened the death.

  Charon continued undaunted until there was a month left. Talia was taken to a country estate, just in case her death released too much ether to be contained. There were stories and enough landscape changes that it was a legitimate threat. I was chosen as one of the guards to go with her and keep any potential damage contained at all costs.

  The day before we left, Charon was nowhere to be found. Some records were missing, and the Keeper was apoplectic. For the next three weeks Talia slowly began to grow more subdued and her smiles became forced.

  Two days before her birthday, Charon walked through all the defensive wards as if they didn’t exist. It was almost a shock at how much he’d changed. I was thrown back to the first time I’d seen him, the spark of genius hiding behind wildness and dirt.

  Having known him best, I intercepted him before he could get too far on the property. There he laid out his plan, a mix of old and new ether manipulation. By the end his voice was desperate, and there were tears in his eyes. I hesitated, weighing the good with the bad of his plan. Talia came out and joined us, looking over his plans despite our protests. She agreed to try it tomorrow, and then gave Charon a kiss.

  The next day, Charon began to write a ward and started to perform a ritual no one had ever seen before. Asking him later, he admitted that quite a bit was done at the last minute because it felt right. The spell failed, but not spectacularly. It was very anticlimactic. We did some tests, and he had bought Talia a month more to spend among the living.

  The two of them spent almost every second together, trying to cram an entire lifetime in a month. It was there that they swore eternal love a week after Talia’s birthday, and I was the witness. Most of us who were there to look after Talia had our hearts broken when she did die. Charon swore another promise to her, and that was to find a way to stop the Child of Magic from dying on their birthday.”

  Talkide looked over at me, “Sorry, I told you a little more than I was supposed to.”

  Chapter 18

  I sat in silence for a few minutes, absorbing the newest story about my master. He had never told me this, but it made more sense as to why we went to visit Olivia. “Charon swore an Oath?”

  “Yes,” Talkide nodded. “Two that I’m aware of having witnessed them.”

  The warning bell sounded and I stood, “Thank you for the story, I have to go cheer for my students.”

  As I was walking away, Talkide spoke, “Gantz…”

  “Yes?”

  “Be careful.”

  “Always.”

  I wound through the crowd and quickly made my way back to the box where I had left my companions. Kane and Philo were in the third and fourth matches. The first pair of fights were quick, owing more to the tiredness of the combatants rather than their actual difference in skill.

  Kane’s opponent was one of the few females, and she held a blunted rapier. They had the first real fight, having recovered just enough to make a good showing of their skill. It was close, but Kane was able to get inside his opponent’s range and land a blow considered to be lethal and won the bout. Philo didn’t do as well, mostly on the defensive until he suddenly reversed his grip that confused his opponent enough to allow him the winning stroke.

  The next fights continued, and I watched semi-interested. The story Talkide told me was weighing heavily in my mind. Charon was invested in saving Yulia from before she was born. I knew his personality best, and I knew that despite failing to save his love he would do everything in his power to figure out a way to make sure it wouldn’t happen again.

  For the next few fights there weren’t very many upsets, with only one of the females making it through to the second round. She quickly became a crowd favorite, after thoroughly trashing her opponent. Her fight was the last of the first round.

  There was only a five minute break between rounds, and then Kane and Philo were both circling each other in the center of the arena. They both wielded swords without shields, and my money was on Philo.

  Ash and Lorraine were standing up just before the fight began, leaning over the rail to try and get a good view. I laid a small ward to keep them from spilling over, before joining them. Within seconds the entire box was leaning against the edge, drinking in the sight of twins fighting for more than just to see who was the better one.

  The fight was intense, with both of them using their strengths to their advantage. Kane would put up a solid defense, while Philo probed with his quick strikes. Despite the intensity and the knowledge they had of each other’s fighting style, the fight was over quickly. Philo’s attacks made it through, and Kane was on his back on a couple minutes after it began. The younger twin was now in the semi-finals.

  I smiled, and the rest of the box sat back down.

  “Who did you bet on?” Ash looked over at me.

  “Philo.” I sighed, “Kane’s stronger, but he lacks the initiative. They pair well together, but one on one it’s Philo who has the edge.”

  Olivia took a deep breath, “Should I go talk to Kane?”

  “No.” It was Anwher who answered her. “He doesn’t need to be consoled.”

  “Okay.”

  Lorraine looked over at me, “Gantz, are they going to join the Warrior’s Guild after this?”

  “They can’t officially join. They are too young. It’d be more of an apprenticeship program until they were old enough. The program is dangerous, essentially pairing an apprentice with a full member for the less dangerous requests.” I shrugged, “It’s not a bad program, almost set up exactly like a Mage’s training.”

  “Are they ready for that?” Lorraine looked from me to Ash.

  Ash closed his eyes, “They are skilled enough true.”

  “I do have a contact with the Warrior’s Guild…” I looked over at the concerned parents, and letting them draw their own conclusions.

  “We’ll talk about it tonight.” Lorraine gripped her husband’s hand, “Let’s just cheer for them now.”

  “How did I ever land a woman like you?” Ash kissed Lorraine, and smiled.

  The lone female fighter, Rebecca, took more care with her opponent this time. She played it safe, by slowly wearing the giant of a teenager down with quick attacks. I noticed the similarity between Yulia’s style and Rebecca’s fighting.
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br />   “Friend of yours?” I whispered into Yulia’s ear.

  Yulia turned her face so that her mouth was next to my ear, “I may have trained her for a short while. I didn’t think she would be allowed to join such a public event when her training hasn’t been completed yet.”

  “Maybe it’s part of an assignment… like becoming a bounty hunter to keep tabs one me.” I gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

  Yulian grunted, but didn’t pull away. Instead she gave me a kiss in return before turning back to the center of the Arena. The Duke stood back up in his box, “Congratulations to our contestants. After a brief inspection by the healers, our finalists will compete for the prize.”

  There was only a couple minutes break before Philo and Rebecca were trotted out with their chosen weapons. Rebecca’s short swords were twirling around her hands dangerously. Philo kept his sword still, halfway between ready and relaxed. Half of the audience was on their feet as the bell sounded to begin the fight.