Battle Mage: The Dark Mage (Tales of Alus)

by Wigboldy Jr, Donald

  Sylvaine leaned into him whispering, “Stop frowning or they’ll think that you are jealous of Holdy.”

  It was meant as a jest, but as Palose looked into her violet eyes hovering just past his shoulder, the mage replied in a similar low tone, “But maybe I am jealous of a kid that’s only been an apprentice for six months taking to this magic better than me. I have almost six years of mage training, but that doesn’t help me learn faster than a child.”

  Her finger raised and traced a line like a tear from his near eye and pushed out her lower lip in mock sympathy. “Poor, battle mage,” she teased. “It is so hard to be so old and yet lumped into the morass of studying with we young ones. Now you complain, but like Maya I am still useless at dark magic. You can cast the shield already, correct?”

  He nodded and she opened her hand palm upward suggesting that it was still better than her own situation.

  “You are able to use almost every element. I am surprised that darkness still eludes you.”

  She smiled, “Maybe I am simply too positive a person to cast a night spell. That would give you a leg up then being that you are so moody.”

  Fighting the urge to smile thanks to Sylvaine’s attention, he decided to give a little back. “When you get so old, then maybe you will lapse into such moods as well.”

  “I hope not,” the girl grinned looking even happier. “Have you had the child help you with those resurrection spells? If he is such a prodigy, then he may be able to help you through them, though I have no idea when you would use it. I doubt there will be a lot of people lined up to die just so you can practice.”

  Palose leaned to the other side causing Sylvaine’s hand to lift from his shoulder. Reaching into his pack, the mage pulled a small pouch from where it rested on top of his books and papers. He loosed the strings and deposited a group of tiny bones on the table in front of him. The action drew the attention from the rest of the table causing the others to go silent.

  Using an incantation he had been studying for months, the mage channeled his power into the bones of the mouse. The clean white jumble began to shift and reassemble as he held his focus. In moments, a skeletal mouse had risen from the debris and at his behest the mouse started to walk around his open book.

  Gasps from most of the others signaled that this was a skill unique to him so far.

  The skeleton picked up the pace as Palose made it run as quick as a living mouse. More purposeful in its movements, the skeleton hurried this way and that until he grew bored. Opening the pouch, the collection of bones fell apart as it entered the cloth.

  “Impressive,” Sylvaine breathed quietly, but in the silence the others around the table could hear her and agreed with a chorus of nods.

  Only Holdy, who looked more interested in the pouch, remained looking at him curiously. It was Turless who asked, “Is that one of the resurrection type spells?”

  He nodded. “I have been practicing the ones I can. From what I have read and from talking to Atrouseon, expertise in one kind of spell leads to ease with even the larger spells.”

  “The darker, hardest resurrection magic requires blood,” Turless stated though most knew as much. Though few attempted the darker magic, and fewer still practiced it, most apprentices learned enough from all the disciplines to understand the basics behind each school.

  Palose nodded and said loud enough to be heard by them all, “This type of magic animates the dead, but a true resurrection spell breathes life into them. Since you are adding life to the dead, you need to put either some of your essence into the spell or use a sacrifice.

  “Only those who harness the power without tying themselves to their creations use sacrifices, but both are supposed to work.”

  Maya and Turless paled at the idea, though most of the rest looked uncomfortable with the idea of killing someone to achieve a spell.

  Selvor commented, “It seems kind of odd to sacrifice someone to bring another back.”

  “It doesn’t have to be human,” Palose clarified, “though some of the most powerful magic requires sentient beings. Supposedly, their screams are heard by the gods to help achieve things like curse spells.”

  Maya was the first to say, “I think that I will just stay with regular spells. Killing someone or draining their blood would make me too sick to cast the magic.”

  “You can’t be squeamish if you want to be a great warlock,” Holdy replied cheerfully.

  The table turned to discussing the idea of curse spells and blood sacrifices, while Palose remained quietly listening.

  “Have you discovered the answers to the questions you were looking for that day I first met you?” Sylvaine asked continuing to rest against his shoulder comfortingly. She was warm to the touch even through their winter tunics. Her right hand slipped along his bare wrist to his hand before entwining her fingers in his. She rarely went so far with Palose, though the young man had often wondered about some of their collisions during weapons practice.

  Whether Sylvaine touched him physically or not, they had become close friends and perhaps a little more as well, Palose thought. He considered her question also and replied quietly, “Some. If I ever try the spell that brought me back from the brink, I have a feeling that will answer more.”

  Her face wrinkled distastefully at the thought. “Will you need to be on a mission trying to save someone with this spell in order to use it?”

  The battle mage had considered the problem quite often over the last months. The books he had read gave him most of the information he needed, but only bringing someone back as he had been would truly shine the final light. Unfortunately, that would mean having someone beholden to him as he was to Atrouseon. He hated being tied to the man so completely, but at least the leash wasn’t very tight most of the time.

  “People die all the time,” he confessed his observation. “The problem is who do I attempt to use such a spell on? It is permanent and the subject will be alive unless someone destroys it intentionally. Even the maker can’t just remove the essence that brings the body back to life.”

  “Which means Atrouseon can’t kill you in a fit of anger. At least not by simply removing his spell anyway,” Sylvaine stated an early worry.

  Nodding, he added, “He would have to kill me again.”

  Defrienne’s eyes had noticed the two speaking like a couple. Unlike Southwall, there was seldom any dancing held inside the city. There were rumors that some of the outer inns were more like those of the southern country, but for some reason the shadow of the emperor lent little to celebration and joy. Without the communal get togethers like in Southwall, there were fewer times for men and women to spend time with each other to be noticed by people who longed to see young love. Palose would be hard pressed to say that their relationship was in that category anyway, but for someone like Defrienne apparently Sylvaine’s attention was enough to start thinking such.

  Suddenly Maya spoke up. “Well, that’s wonderful. Holdy can cast a night shield at will. Palose can animate bones and I can’t get more than a flicker of night. Don’t tell me that you can do the shield as well already, Palose.”

  Removing his hand from the girl’s, Palose quickly summoned his own night shield. It was a little rough around the edges, but it would hold in a fight, he thought. Someday he needed to put it to a test, but so few students went outside to train in the winter it would be a little hard to find a partner for the next few months.

  The blond groaned and he could feel Sylvaine tense beside him seeing that he had managed the spell that eluded her as well.

  “It isn’t as smooth as some, but it should work,” the mage commented on his work critically.

  Sylvaine called up a small flame that rose up from her fingers to touch the base of the black light. Even the weak bit of fire strengthened the shield and he noticed the edges beginning to firm under her attention.

  “Sylvaine!” Turless hissed pointing towards the stairs.

  The sound of a clearing throat led their eyes to one
of the librarians who looked sternly at the table full of apprentices. “You know the rules. No dangerous use of magic in the library. Fire is a very dangerous piece of magic. Come with me, young lady.”

  The fire winked out along with his shield and Sylvaine rose giving him a grimace. “Eloria is going to kill me,” she breathed disappointedly.

  With Sylvaine’s removal, the study group soon broke up for the afternoon. The girl’s mentor was called in and Sylvaine found herself having to help out in the library for twenty hours over the next week. For someone who could find books almost supernaturally well, the punishment was hardly severe, though perhaps that was because Eloria had actually found the matter amusing.

  Her student’s control was such that even her use of fire so near their precious books and scrolls was never a potential threat. Sylvaine even knew a spell to snuff fire like the dark shields were able to do.

  While Palose found that he missed the girl’s presence a bit, he had a new job to do with Atrouseon. It involved a trip to the Breeding Pits, but that was all he knew.

  “Hurry up, boy,” Atrouseon grumped as he hurried ahead of the mage through the streets leading to the west and their target. The warlock was wearing a brown leather coat, dark brown pants and leather boots, which was a shift from the man’s preference for black. He had suggested that Palose wear clothes that would hide stains and that he wouldn’t care if they were ruined. Ruined how, the warlock wouldn’t say.

  Taking quicker strides, the mage found that he wanted to question his master about what they were heading to the Pits for and why, but his curiosity was tempered by his more natural instinct to remain quiet and observe. It had been his way while at White Hall and the northern castles. He found too many questions usually bothered the ones asked. If they wanted you to know something, most people could barely contain themselves before spilling their plans. Those who wanted secrecy would remain quiet, but often Palose could discover what they held in by watching their behaviors as they worked to conceal their purposes.

  Atrouseon turned his head to see the battle mage just behind his shoulder. His eyes reacted by opening slightly wider in surprise before revealing satisfaction in his apprentice’s quiet obedience to his orders. The reaction reminded Palose again of their true relationship. His master called and he followed. Little more than a slave to Atrouseon’s will, he also realized that it could have been worse. The warlock was far from the hardest of taskmasters in Ensolus or even in the school of White Hall. Still, the invisible collar of obedience continued to chafe.

  Through his research, Palose had discovered several things about the bond that had once worried him. First, if Atrouseon, his maker, would ever die, the magic binding him to life would remain. Apparently other warlocks dabbling in resurrection spells had failed to properly bind their creations and when they rebelled, some killed their makers. It was one of the reasons there was such a negative stigma to the magic in Ensolus where dark magic was not only researched but encouraged. Such spells set the emperor’s warlocks apart making them more dangerous to those more ‘civilized’ wizards who looked down on necromancy and the like as being barbaric.

  The second thing he had found was that the bond between the one casting the spell and the one to receive the magic could enhance each other’s power. It was another reason some necromancers had chosen to give part of their power to the subject. In return for the sharing of his power, if he in turn brought back a warlock of equal or greater power, his strength would grow as well.

  Of course, bringing a willful warlock back to life and sharing your power with him often led to some of the negative results. They gained power and were only constricted by the safe guards the maker instilled on the dead. If they failed to use the right controls, the resurrection man had the freewill to kill their maker.

  This led to the third and perhaps most important piece of information from his studies; if he used the right ritual, the resurrection man could not only kill his maker, but steal all of the man’s power for his own. It had taken research through more than a dozen books, not only by Palose but Sylvaine, Holdy, Turless and Defrienne as well. His new friends seemed willing to help him understand as much of the resurrection magic as he could. Though he wasn’t sure exactly why, the mage didn’t resist the help.

  With five people looking for important information, Palose had been able to cover more ground. They brought him important and unique spells, notes and other relevant information distilling their reading down to more digestible bites for him. His own reading had yielded much as he had demonstrated with the mouse bones. Atrouseon had even been the one to impart the small skeleton to him as his master. It was just one of several devices he had access to thanks to the warlock.

  If not for the benefits of Atrouseon, Palose wondered if he would have taken the leap to break the chains between them.

  Apparently his master’s thoughts had gone to a similar place as he asked, “Has your study of necromancy been fruitful?”

  “Yes, master,” Palose answered obediently and without pause. “I can manipulate bones and have committed most of the main rituals to memory, though I haven’t exactly had a reason to the use them yet.”

  The older man chuckled at the comment. “No one dying to let you use necromancy on them, hey?”

  Nodding, the apprentice replied, “I could maybe create a wraith or bone guard. That would be a chance to imbue will on the dead, but again I haven’t decided to scrounge up a suitable test subject as of yet.”

  “Talk to the disposal orcs. The ones working around the human side are probably the easiest to deal with since most speak common. Dealing with those living beyond the Breeding Pits can be more difficult. The little beasts begin to think they are as good as those of elven and human descent. Their rudeness has to be tolerated while working there since they have numbers and their clans don’t appreciate outside interference, even if we do all serve the emperor.”

  “Has it always been that way or has the failing health of the emperor spurred more of the dissent between the races?” Palose questioned gently. If Atrouseon was willing to share information, then the battle mage would surely take what he could get. Some answers had come from other sources like his friends and the research books, but the warlock was high enough ranked in their echelon to have some answers that he might not find written down or available to mere apprentices.

  At first Palose was unsure if he would receive an answer as a big pause awaited his question, but finally the man replied, “I am not old enough to know what came before the exodus from the Silver World, but as long as I can remember it was the emperor’s will that united our cause. In the last decade, I have seen more of a separation between the races in the city.

  “Decades before it is said that groups from the outlying mountain cities have abandoned the mountains to hide from the emperor. His reach has suffered and most that have fled remain lost.” The man’s back straightened from a disheartened slouch that had begun to force itself on him. “But with the new vessel, his majesty’s power will be renewed and those who have dishonored him will either fall in line or be reduced to dust on the wind!”

  The conversation fell into silence once more and soon they were entering the Breeding Pits. Palose’s nose found the smell of the pits had begun to abuse his senses long before they were within a stone’s throw of the building. According to those who said they knew, the massive stone building had been built to try and contain some of the stench. Several stone chimneys vaulted to the ceiling where the exhaust could be channeled through vents exiting the mountain high above; but, even with the attempts to remove the odor, this area was avoided by most humans due to a stench that the other races must have learned to ignore or somehow didn’t notice.

  As they closed in on the immense building for the pits, Palose noticed foot traffic had picked up for the first time since leaving the area of the military training fields. Almost a mile of fields abandoned for the winter had led to an area controlled by trolls. The hardy creature
s still braved the cold as if it meant nothing to them to the point that they even had to pass through a bazaar run by the creatures in a strange mockery of a human market.

  The mage felt eyes on the two warlocks as numerous trolls and even some of their smaller brethren noted the rare crossing. Trying to show no worry or fear, he followed Atrouseon to the base of the Breeding Pits where the mage found a dry moat lined with deadly stakes and a bridge that could be raised for defense.

  “They fear someone storming the Breeding Pits?” he questioned as they passed more than a dozen troll and orc guards to enter through an open gate.

  Answering soberly, Atrouseon stated, “It isn’t to keep others out, but to keep what is inside the walls where it belongs.”

  It was then that he realized that the bridge could be pulled away as easily as it could be raised and Palose wondered what they bred that would require such measures. If there was something to protect the rest of Ensolus from, then that made the goal of the thick stone walls to be a barrier between what was inside and that which was outside. It had been purposed in reverse. The fact that they were walking into such a place made his skin crawl with trepidation.

  Once inside the walls of the Breeding Pits, Palose noted the temperature raise and the humidity became thick also. Again the building’s walls were used to maintain the heat even during winter.

  Lanterns became necessary along the path of the halls and walkways that passed over rooms with dozens of vats and tanks with forms both large and small nestled within the glass. Looking over the rail at the vats, he realized that the liquid appeared similar to that being used to create the blank vessels for the emperor. He quickly assumed that the liquid was used for breeding many of the emperor’s creatures. Not all could breed like humans apparently and in this building they both helped and perverted nature.