Climbing stairs to another floor, he could soon see larger tanks holding armored viles and kiriaks in various stages of gestation. They could be bred to full size here or removed as juveniles. He had heard that some of the villages surrounding the pits held families of the races. Some cared for the young, though he was unsure if there were females having children or if they were families purposed to care for what came from the Breeding Pits.
A third set of stairs took them dozens of feet above the high ceilings of the second floor. Once there, Atrouseon’s path seemed different. They navigated between smaller tanks and vats. Orcs, goblins and even elven folk could be seen within these tanks. Perhaps humans were created in other rooms on this floor, which made Palose wonder if some of the people he knew had been formed here rather than as the gods had intended.
“Don’t look so ill, just because of the need to create armies has pushed us to create them faster within the Breeding Pits. They make what we need, whether it be man or beast,” Atrouseon informed him with no question for the strangeness of creating all this life away from nature’s womb.
“Or warlocks?” he added wondering once more who he may have known that had come from these chambers.
“On occasion, though it is harder to breed magical beings with any surety.”
Finally they came to another room passing through a doorway guarded by four orcs in full armor. The extra security extended inside with a pair of trolls and four more orcs guarding a hall and second set of doors. A last room with no other way in or out was found past those doors.
Half a dozen figures stood inside. The first two to look at the newest arrivals made his chest go cold with their undead stares. Wraith warlocks holding the power of magic guarded the men, most of who were hooded. Power radiated from the four men and as they turned, Palose noted Warlock Thielius from the vessel team as one of them. Two other men wore black armor, but their powerful auras of magic led him to believe that these were men of the Wizard Hunters that he had heard about in Ensolus.
Both male hunters were of a similar height and apparent age, but they bore the pointed ear tips of the elves, so Palose doubted their true age. The fiercer looking of the two was Lord Devolus and he felt like looking into the night. His black hair and groomed beard were echoed by his strange eyes that were all black. The other hunter looked like he could be related, but his brown hair and eyes were those of someone who had not given himself over to the darkness.
The last figure was cloaked and leaning on a staff. He appeared as an older gray haired man, but his eyes were black like the dark wizard hunter. This last gave off no feeling of magical power, but Palose doubted he was without magic. The old man was suppressing his power to deceive whoever might be looking, but for what reason he wasn’t sure. As an apprentice in the shadow of his master, however, it wasn’t his place to inquire or even appear to acknowledge such things; but he made a mental note even so.
“Nice of you to join us, Atrouseon, and I see that you have brought your apprentice with you,” the old man’s voice came out in a rasp to address the warlock.
“Yes, my lord, I came as you asked and told no one,” the man replied bowing his head in obeisance. Palose echoed the gesture though he still had no idea who the old man was that required such devotion.
As he straightened, the young mage realized that he recognized the three tanks behind the old man. These were the blank vessels for the emperor. Had someone decided to take or corrupt the vessels before the emperor could take them for himself? They were still a few weeks away from releasing the first as a guard.
It was then that Palose realized that Atrouseon was too devoted to allow such a thing to happen. Hadn’t they protected the blanks day and night for months just to keep them safe for the emperor? This old man’s secret became obvious to him very quickly. He was the emperor in disguise, but why were they here?
The mage realized too late that he must have let at least some of his thoughts reach his face as the old man began to smile. “Your apprentice is a quick one. He knows who I am I believe. Come forward, boy, and tell me your name.”
“Yes, my lord,” Palose answered stepping forward before bowing lower and answering, “I am Palose Rosaren, formerly a falcon of Southwall.”
“But you are a resurrection man, if I recall. I am getting rather old and the millennia tend to jumble together from time to time, but I believe that is your origin.”
“Yes, emperor, I was revived by my master to attempt to break Windmeer.”
“Ah, that,” the old man sighed. “It wasn’t a complete failure, but the report said that the army returned to defeat the troops we had sent.”
Nodding, Palose answered, “They were supposed to be detained or destroyed north of the wall, but returned early enough to kill the vanguard before we could take the castle.”
“And how do you know this again? I was told that it was you who believed this. Word came from Erdeeth and Kerlorish after they escaped and created the first portal to those mountains with the cute little name.”
“One of the battle mages, who had been with that force, made it deep into the castle where we disposed of him. Since he was with the army, it made sense that they must have returned despite our forces that were supposed to intercept and destroy them north of the wall.”
“Ah, ‘our’ forces indeed. You know that the opinion of the two warlocks seemed unsure that your former mage was killed. They were interrupted by more defenders, they said, though the boy was left bloodied and dying. If a healer made it to him in time, there is a small chance he might still be alive. They seem to think that the one you sentenced to die was an exceptional mage also,” the old man mused as he toyed with Palose’s recollection of that night.
“Bas was learning to change wizard magic into quicker, simpler spells for the battle mages,” Palose agreed. He expressed his worry as he added, “If they weren’t able to finish him off, that battle mage could become a pretty big thorn in your side, my lord. His teachings could not only change the battle mage corps, but that of the wizards if they’ll listen.”
The emperor looked less than convinced. “A battle mage is that important to Southwall?”
“He left White Hall as a cadet and in little more than a month created a dozen or more spells including air spears and healing. If every battle mage learns just those spells, they’ll be more lethal than ever. Give him a year to learn, there might be more. Teach the wizards to fight like battle mages with their power, they could shift the war to their side,” Palose answered before realizing that he was talking to the emperor. Usually one for discretion anyway, the mage bowed his head in silence as he hoped that the leader of the empire wasn’t offended by his outspoken words.
No one spoke for a moment and Palose could hear the strange sounds of the building around him. Tanks churned as air bubbles shifted and hoses brought both liquid and air into the various chambers. Even with the background noises, the mage just waited for the voice of the emperor to doom or forgive him.
“Such a thorn in the side would best be dead as you say. We will have to send spies to find out if the mage yet lives then, but for now we have other business. Return to your master, young mage, we have work to do.”
Chapter 8- Trinity Birth
The sounds of the Breeding Pits were all around them. Within the large chamber, Atrouseon and Thielius moved about checking the machinery keeping the three blanks alive, or at least their version of alive. For Palose, the technology behind these blanks, and even the Breeding Pits, was beyond the scope of his knowledge. Atrouseon had never revealed the true scope of his experiments and only as the battle mage discovered the role of the vessels in the continuation of the emperor, did he begin to understand any of it.
Standing ready as the two warlocks moved about busily, the emperor in the guise of an old man, which wasn’t a stretch for the ancient being Palose supposed, waited to do whatever they were there for him to do. Hating not knowing, the apprentice stood waiting for his orders.
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“The guard is ready,” Atrouseon stated as he and Thielius moved to the third tank holding the girl.
Not waiting for the warlocks to finish their next tasks, the emperor began to chant. His power built around his hands, head and heart, but nothing more of the Dark One’s magic revealed itself to be noticed by anyone searching for the emperor.
He touched the glass and Palose found that he could see the flow of magic between the old man and the unborn being before him. As his magic engulfed and entered the boy within, he began to twitch then shuddered as if he were plunged into ice water. The small movements became thrashing until finally he watched the boy’s eyes snapped open. He looked panicked, but the magic continued and the look subsided into calm. As the emperor remained finishing his spell, the boy reached out with his hand touching the glass from within as if to place his hand against that of the old man.
“It is done,” the old man’s voice declared before pulling away from the tank.
The boy inside remained calm waiting as the liquid began to drain from the tank. As air replaced the fluid, he suddenly began to choke. Coughing up more of the liquid that had been inside his lungs, he soon began to take his first true breaths. When the glass slid aside, the boy knelt on the base unsure of his movements.
Palose was surprised that he could sit on his knees. Were this a true babe being born, he would have no coordination. His eyes would be sensitive to light and his need to sleep and eat would rule his first few months of life, but this wasn’t a natural birth.
The brown haired wizard hunter moved to assist the boy. He carried a blanket to wrap around his shoulders and pulled him up to stand. Like a foal trying its first steps, he looked unsteady at first, but his legs quickly strengthened as if years of learning were updating the blank in moments.
“Lanquer,” the emperor stated pointing to the boy. This would be a guard, if the plan held, and a holder of his essence.
Looking to the emperor as he heard his name, the boy seemed to understand. Brushing the warlock’s hands away, Lanquer stepped forward towards a table with clothing upon it. Without a word, the boy began to pull on a set of pants while ignoring the emperor and the others. The wizard hunter stood nearby in case he needed anything, though his attention soon turned to his emperor as he faced the third chamber.
Like the first blank, the old man chanted a spell bringing his power to the surface where he wished while suppressing the rest. His magic and power began to caress the girl bringing her to life as he had Lanquer moments before.
Palose looked at the boy as he dressed in simple clothing made of brown. Looking like a farmer’s boy rather than a holder of the emperor’s power, his natural strength in magic was as great as the giant Garosh. As much power as he held, the mage could feel the girl receiving even more.
Returning his attention to the emperor’s work, he wondered why they had accelerated the time table on the blanks. The guard wasn’t due for a few more weeks and should have the bulk of a sixteen or seventeen year old not a fourteen year old boy still likely to grow taller and stronger. Now the girl, who should be the work of a week or two beyond the guard, was also being brought to life.
One noticeable absence was that of the two others from Atrouseon’s research team. Etriak and Alimus had been part of the work for years, yet only Thielius had joined his master. Did that mean they did not trust the others or was this just a way to prevent more people from knowing the truth? Where did he fit in? Palose was supposed to be a mere apprentice of Atrouseon, how had he rated the trust of the emperor so soon? Did they see him as a mere extension of his master, a thing that could be controlled and thus was safe like the wraiths guarding the emperor now?
Giving up his questions, which were unlikely to be answered, the apprenticed watched as history was being made. The emperor was about to pass his essence onto a new form and what would begin from there could make Southwall and all the nations quake.
The girl followed the actions of the first and soon she was coughing up the remains of the fluid from her lungs. Before the hunter could try to help the girl, however, she stood easily and walked out of the tank using the edge of the door to step down. Already as graceful as a princess, the second blank seemed more coherent than the first. Perhaps it was the extended time spent transferring his magic to the girl that explained it, and Palose could feel her power dwarfing Lanquer’s easily.
Her dark blue eyes found the mage locking onto him for a time, even as she took the blanket offered her. Using the cloth to dry herself like a maiden exiting her bath, the girl remained silent but moved like a girl of her apparent age.
“Acheri,” the emperor declared as he prepared for his last test.
The girl nodded as she stood naked before them save for the towel. “Yes, father,” Acheri replied in perfect common.
“Dress yourself, girl, and join Lanquer while I finish this last gift for your brother.”
Stepping into a dress as blue as her eyes, Acheri found Palose a moment with a glance before pulling the garment into position. She used only the dress and let the hunter pull the laces in back to tighten the cloth around her. It looked made for a lady, Palose thought.
His attention was wrenched from the beauty of Acheri to the emperor as his power suddenly seemed to illuminate the room. Both light and dark, his magic swelled as he channeled the remainder of his essence into his chosen vessel. The turmoil of the liquid as the force of the Dark One threatened to burst the tank caused the blank inside to thrash like it was being tossed by the North Sea in a storm.
Palose realized that the emperor would not survive this last use of magic. He had banked his survival on this last male vessel and if it failed to hold his power, only the shadows of his strength, Lanquer and Acheri, would remain to carry on his legacy. He gritted his teeth forced to squint in the face of so much power and waited for it to be over.
When the magic faded, the cloak of the old man crumpled to the floor as his body fell to dust before them. There were no gasps of surprise as the emperor’s old body died. Everyone could see that this was the end and a beginning for the old man.
The tank emptied and the last blank coughed up the life giving fluid of the mechanical womb. He didn’t sink to his knees as the other two had before him and his eyes had a stronger sense of purpose to them even before the glass door could move aside to release the young man. He strode from the chamber taking the offered towel from the hunter and noted each man around him.
“I live again,” the new emperor stated commandingly. All bowed to him, even the newly born.
He looked at his hands and arms commenting, “This vessel is certainly full of life and potential, Atrouseon, Thielius. You have done quite well, where no one has succeeded before you. The timing was exceptional. I am not sure how many more days that old man’s body would have held me.”
The two warlocks bowed in acknowledgement of his words, before Thielius replied, “We live to serve, my emperor.”
Frowning slightly, the boy who was emperor shook his head. “Call me, Kolban, for now or my lord. No one should know that I am the emperor until we can be sure that this vessel will hold. It feels strong, but it is also a boy. Until I can harness my magic fully, we need to keep what has happened here secret. No one can know of my new form.”
“Yes, Lord Kolban,” Atrouseon stated and was soon echoed by those gathered around them.
It was Acheri who walked over with a pair of pants that appeared made of silk which shimmered with the dim light though it was colored black. Kolban took the garment and pulled them on with a brief nod to the girl. “Thank you, Acheri.”
“You are welcome, brother,” she answered with a smile. Her dark hair hung long but remained wet darkening the back of the dress. After the emperor had his pants, he noted as much casting a spell over Acheri. Her hair dried as the liquid was pulled free and her dress as well. The liquid dropped away from her black boots.
“We can’t have you catching cold on your first day, now can we
?” he chuckled as he reached for a shirt of midnight blue.
Acheri summoned her own spell drying his light brown hair similarly. “Fair is fair, brother.”
Palose watched the interchange thinking how surreal it was. In essence, all three were the emperor, or so he assumed; so the emperor was essentially talking to himself in this strange parody of familial love.
“You two are ridiculous,” Lanquer finally answered gruffly. The last boy’s voice was deeper than Kolban’s or even Palose’s. While he still sounded youthful, the mage thought this was the voice of a commander. “Playing with your magic instead of sealing it away until we return to the citadel exposes you to your enemies unnecessarily.”
Palose noticed no terms of endearment as the other two had exchanged. It was as if this one, having been a reject like Garosh before him, was not part of the emperor though he had brought Lanquer to life and named him.
Acheri’s aura dimmed to the strength of a minor wizard at the rebuke, but she stuck out her tongue in response to the boy. She also picked out a bracelet, which she placed on her left arm, and a necklace. The latter she carried over to Palose as the girl seemed to be sizing him up. Passing it to the mage she ordered, “I can’t get the clasp myself. Place it on me.”
“You could say please, sister,” Kolban stated as he finished pulling on a pair of boots. He sounded like her father, which if he was the emperor, Palose supposed that he was.
“Please,” she cooed and slid her hand along his cheek before turning back towards the emperor. Raising her hair, like a girl expert in wearing jewelry, Palose wound up locking the necklace laced with sapphires and diamonds around her delicate neck. The girl still looked fourteen years old to him though she acted even older, but his mind still knew that she was more like fourteen minutes old.
Patting his cheek again she changed her octave to a higher range as Acheri responded almost in song, “Thank you, Palose.”
Battle Mage: The Dark Mage (Tales of Alus) Page 12