by Mike
“I told you, Captain.” The Blood Mage’s voice echoed in his mind. “We all have a part to play. This is yours.” The Mage smiled as his face slowly dissipated. But before it disappeared completely, the voice whispered in his mind. “And so, the Minister’s daughter’s killer is punished after all.”
Quint felt the warmth of Wren’s essence envelope him. Felt the pain ebb from his severed wrist, felt the tightening of the skin as it pulled and came together over the cut, closing it off. Renewed energy flowed into him, the draining effect of the blood loss regressed, and Quint felt strength returning to him. It was over in seconds.
When he finally had the presence of mind to gaze up at Johns, he was baffled by what he saw. The man stood frozen in front of him, blade half way down, but had proceeded no further. Stranger still, was the look on the Captain’s face. Not looking down upon Quint, he instead stared forward, staring at something only he could see. Fear was upon his face, fear and rage. Quint didn’t hesitate for long. There was no telling how long whatever was distracting the Captain would do so, and if he was going to do anything. Now would be the time.
Gazing down, he realized he was still holding Wren’s shattered blade by the hilt. Its jagged edge marred the blade at about half its normal length. Without giving it a second’s thought, he thrust upwards with the blade, piercing Johns right below the ribcage. At the right angle, the stab went right behind Johns’ ribs and pierced his heart. The Captain’s eyes widened it was the only reaction he gave to being stabbed. No crying out. No sharp intake of breath. Just the eyes opening wide, and after a moment, closing gently. The man’s body remained rigid, and in place, even after Quint slid the blade from his body.
Quint stood sluggishly, not taking his eyes from the Captain, who continued to remain motionless. Moving closer cautiously, Quint tentatively reached out a hand to touch him. The man’s eyes shot open, and Quint snatched his hand back. This time, his eyes no longer appeared to be Johns’ eyes. Instead the entire eyes were a deep blood red, only broken by a slight black outline of the pupil and another, the iris. When the body spoke, it was no longer in Johns’ voice.
“Greetings Quint Linksill. I am here to ask a favor of you. A favor for a favor.” The body’s voice was raspy, like a clubbed foot being dragged across stones strew with dead leaves.
“What favor have you done me…Mage?” Unsure of whom he spoke to, Quint nevertheless hazarded a guess.
The otherwise lifeless body smiled.
“Helping you to kill the Captain, of course. How else do you think his body became frozen? It was my power incapacitating the Captain long enough for you to be able to kill him. Now, there has been justice for poor Elutia.”
Quint felt cold inside. This Mage knew things he shouldn’t. Things he finally had begun to understand. Captain Johns had murdered his love, apparent now since the man had confessed. Surely though, the secret died with only the Captain and he knowing of it? This Mage not only knew of the murder but knew of Elutia. Knew everything, it would seem.
“What is it you want?” Quint demanded of the corpse. Not wishing to spend much time conversing with it.
“Tsk. Tsk. Not even a thank you.”
Quint didn’t think it was possible for a corpse to look put out, but this one was doing a fair job of it.
A raspy sigh escaped its lips. “Very well, I will get to the point. I have need of your service to carry out a rather… unpleasant task.”
“You seem to know something about me, Mage. So, you should know better than to ask of me to do something morally wrong.”
The corpse shrugged. “I don’t see as you are going to have much choice in the matter. I alone can prove your innocence. So, if you wish to stop having to run for your life, you will help me.”
Quint was shaking his head. “No. I will not. I go now to seek the Witch of Time. It will be with her help I will clear my name. I have no need of such a fell bargain with the likes of you.”
It was the corpses turn to shake his head. “That will not happen.” The corpse raised its hands to stall any argument. “Don’t worry. I do not expect you to take my word for it. So, continue your quest and make your way to the Witch of Time. You will discover, the Witches will be unable to help you. When this occurs, come and find me.”
Before he had a chance to argue the point, the corpse of Captain Johns collapsed into a heap. No longer animated by the Mage.
Who or what this Mage was, frightened Quint. It was no Witch, for sure. Leaving only Essence or Blood. Blood being the more likely. He was no expert on magic, by any means, but he could imagine the power exhibited here was incredible. Who knew how far away this Mage was? What distance could this Mage reach with his power? A Blood Mage of this power, to have escaped detection from the Shen, the magic hunters, was a feat. They were extraordinarily proficient at their jobs, the Shen, from what the rumors said. He had never met any, and though he didn’t practice any magic, he had carried a magical weapon, and the worry of encounter with them had always strayed in the back of his mind. The Shen were known to confiscate magical items and you had little recourse with them if they did.
Thinking of Wren, he peered back down at the shattered blade. Its other half lay to the other side of the rock Johns had shattered it upon. He retrieved it. Stupidly, he attempted to fit the pieces back together. Knowing full well it was futile. After a moment, he gave up.
“Wren?” Quint attempted to call out to the sword in his mind, but there was no answer.
“Wren?” Out loud this time. Silence was the only answer. Wren was gone. The breaking of the sword and the use of the last of his essence to heal Quint had killed him. His one and only friend, was gone.
Looking up from the sword, he brushed a tear away with his knuckle and quieted a sob. Sliding the broken tip into his sheath, he followed it with what remained of the hilt and blade. Glancing around, he could find no sign of his horse. It must have run off after it got its feet under it. There was no telling where it had gone off to, and he was in no mood to try and track it down. He would continue on foot, making Stormland by the evening.
This day had changed Quint’s life completely. He had discovered who had killed Elutia and had killed him in turn. In the process, he had lost his only and truest friend. It was bittersweet.
Still needing to clear his name, he walked on. He walked, with his head down and his heart bleeding.
The body of Captain Johns lay on the road behind him. Already, it was drawing the attention of buzzards, who had begun to circle.
I hope you have enjoyed this story. “Intellect” is the first story in the, “Prelude to the Shards” Anthology, which is out Aug. 3rd 2018. If you liked “Intellect” and the world of Ismia, then don’t miss out on the other stories in the anthology! Order it today!
https://www.amazon.com/Prelude-Shards-Coven-Anthology-ebook/dp/B07DTKY6ZJ/
Other Works by
Michael Timmins
The Lycan War Saga
“The Awakening: Part One”
“The Awakening: Part Two”
“The Gathering”
TBA
“The War”
TBA
Shards of the Coven
Series
Prelude to the Shards Anthology
“Intellect”
“Race of the Witchguard”
“A Town Called Ghost”
“Starfall”
A Shards of the Coven novel
Visit my website for an interactive map of Ismia and up to date information about release dates and information about what I am currently working on!
www.michaeltimmins42.com
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