Battle Mage: The Dark Mage (Tales of Alus)

by Wigboldy Jr, Donald

  The second spell was untested by him, but was supposed to tie the creator to the person he gave it to in order to let them know how that person was doing. More to the point, if the wearer were injured or dying, the signal should alert the necromancer no matter the miles between them. As long as the one gifted wore the chain, he would know they were safe or in danger. If it was removed by the wearer, the magic would become inert while waiting to return to the user.

  Satisfied that the spells were set, Palose walked over to the girl who had decided to try the largest piece of furniture in the room, a padded couch of a cream color that made Sylvaine look like she was sitting on a cloud. He sat next to her offering the piece of jewelry causing the girl’s eyes to look at him questioningly. While she could almost believe that it was a mere gift, the spells placed on the trinket made it unlikely.

  “What is this?” she asked placing the stone and setting against the palm of her hand as the chain looped over her fingers. Looking at the simple piece, Sylvaine looked slightly disappointed in the simplicity of design.

  “One of the texts said that a warlock could charm a locket or necklace to tell the caster that the wearer is safe. If something should ever happen to you, I will know. The stone holds the power of a touchstone, so I will also know where you are if you come to harm,” the mage laid out the spells as plainly as he could. Sylvaine would understand most spells he could learn, since she was years ahead of him in research being on the path to a wizard as she entered puberty gaining her magical powers.

  Her face looked to question his purpose and the girl tried to ascertain his motives by asking, “You want to keep track of where I am? If you can already portal to the altar near the fortress, why would you need this? You weren’t planning on gating into my room in the night for mischief were you?”

  The last was asked in jest, but Palose still answered, “It doesn’t have to be just the fortress where you can wear it. You said that you were worried about the upcoming battle. If anything should happen to you, I can be there as quickly as I can cast the spell. When you aren’t wearing it, I will only know where the necklace is resting because of the touchstone, so feel free to only wear it when you are afraid or worried that you are all alone. That way you will always know that I will be there when you need it.”

  Tears formed in her eyes. The mage hadn’t meant to make her cry, and began to rub his neck self consciously as he wondered if he had said something wrong. While he had tried to resist becoming attached to the people of Ensolus, Palose felt more for Sylvaine than he had thought he would for anyone in the city that had once just held enemies.

  To his surprise, the girl surged towards him hugging the young man around the neck. She could voice no words as he felt her breath shuddering in her chest. Muffled sounds of crying could be heard as Sylvaine rested her head on his shoulder. Palose put his arms around her trying his best to comfort the girl as she fought to control her tears. Ensolus was merciless against those who were weak and even children were taught to be hardened to pain and feelings, but people couldn’t completely shut off their emotions. Even the hardest hearts could only try to hide what they felt when something truly touched them.

  Pulling back a little bit, Sylvaine placed her hands on his cheeks before leaning back in to kiss him hard on the lips. She lingered and he felt her breath touching him before settling back.

  “Thank you, Palose,” the dark haired girl said gratefully. Her violet eyes still glistened with tears, and wet trails remained on her cheeks. Despite the tears, she looked happy to him. “I think knowing that you will be there for me will make this first battle easier. I don’t have to be as fearful when I know that you can be there.”

  He nodded thinking how beautiful she looked even as the girl cried tears of happiness.

  Chapter 13- The Merchant’s Son

  Usually two specific, massive buildings were designated for the large gates used by the dark armies of the emperor. As Palose stood waiting to help activate the portal in one chamber, he looked at the hundreds of troops amassing within the large room and had heard that there were still more outside.

  Garosh had asked for one hundred of the intelligent werebeasts. Both wolves and mountain cats had been merged with men by some researcher in a past time when the emperor was conquering his old world. Palose knew some of the stories of the world of elves and dwarves from the books of man, and in between spell books he had found a few more books on the history of both Ensolus and the creatures that had come to make it their home. That the were-creatures were originally created from elves, orcs and the occasional troll was known, though he had found little more than that so far.

  Still the wolves and lions made most of the other races uneasy, even though they were supposed to be nearly as intelligent as most men. The two hundred additional soldiers primarily made up of orcs and humans looked at the beasts uncomfortably, but dealing with such creatures was common enough that they tried their best to avoid any conflict with them. The last group joining the exodus was a hundred twenty warlocks and wizards of which three dozen were the black armored Wizard Hunters. These would be the bane of Southwall’s armies as most could use the darkness shields and assorted magic of that line to nullify their elemental spells.

  Palose wondered if he should feel sorry for his former home, but the most that he could drum up was a bit of pity. If the battle was fought well, it would be a one sided blood bath. Of course, Garosh’s ability to lead had been questioned by Kolban, but he had a feeling that much of that was the emperor’s way of motivating people or at least the giant in particular. Still, Southwall’s officers could surprise him, but for this battle Palose sensed a defeat.

  Within the crowd, the mage spotted Sylvaine. The girl sought him with her eyes knowing that he was one of the portal team. With two portal chambers in operation, there had been a chance that she would have gone through without his seeing her, but he found her violet eyes exchanging a brief smile. Noticing her hand clenching the upper part of her tunic, when the girl gave him a relieved nod Palose knew that she held the touchstone even without having to use his magic.

  A much taller woman, wearing a black cloak and dark gray clothing beneath, prodded the apprentice forward with barely a glance to notice the girl’s preoccupation. They were separated from the bulk of the wizards which meant her mistress felt the need to herd her apprentice forward as they awaited the portal’s opening.

  “Get ready, boy, here come the sacrifices for the portal,” Atrouseon stated from behind his apprentice.

  Palose watched as a handful of goblins and orcs were pulled in chains to a pair of altars standing to either side of the usual gateway. While smaller gates could be opened and held for a time without bloodshed, moving hundreds through space over the extra time required great power. Unfortunately for these five, their lives would be required for the massive spell.

  Gathering in two circles of five wizards with two more binding the blood sacrifices, Palose prepared to be led in the greater magic. What had become simple for the mage, with both his practice and his time on portal duty, was now something that was new to him. He had used the blood of a few Southwallers to open the gate into Windmeer, but even then it had been through his own casting that it had happened.

  The chanting began and screaming as well as two of the victims were pierced with the special daggers used for the ritual. Palose blocked out the sounds locking into his chant maintaining the pace set by the assembled warlocks. As the blood followed the channels created in the stone, a large gate opened. The blood from each altar met at the center beneath the glowing light transferring the power found in the lives of victims into the spell.

  Soldiers, beasts and wizards began to move through the glowing opening in preordered lines. Ensolus had been using the gates for so long that few looked nervous to be sending their bodies across the world in a blink. While he had never heard of anyone being lost in the transfer, the mage would have thought that there had to be mistakes along the way to creating su
ch magic. Most would say a few lost lives to create such a miracle were worth it. It was the way of wizards, even in Southwall, to see sacrifices to perfect their art.

  Like a used up keg, the first victims were tossed aside by the men at the altar. The next pair was pulled screaming onto the stone, even bothering to try fighting back. A spell from the assistants stunned the orcs long enough to secure them, but they were completely conscious as the daggers sunk slowly into them drawing out the pain and life force to continue the gate.

  More than half of the troops had passed through by then, but Palose was unable to see that. All he knew were the chanting and his part in the magic. Though he had seen what had happened at the altar, it was like he was watching from afar off and not from within his body. Their pain and fear meant nothing in the pull of the magic. He was merely the tool along with the others and his consciousness was dulled unlike in a normal gateway spell.

  Time passed without form. It could have been quick or slow, but his mind was unable to tell the difference, but then it was done.

  Palose noticed the lone survivor of the victims brought to the chamber. Those in the chamber of the slaying released the goblin’s chains telling him that he had been spared by the gods and to go home. Not needing to be told twice, the small creature ran from the gate chamber praising the gods all the way.

  What the gods had to do with any of it, Palose didn’t know. Magic might have come from the gods or simply been a part of the world and the creatures within since the creation of life. He didn’t know for sure and if someone told him what they believed to be the truth, the mage was unsure he would believe even then. Whatever the source and whoever had left the goblin alive, it didn’t matter anymore.

  “You can go study or train, Palose. There are no more gates assigned for the day,” Atrouseon said looking a little pale. Either the spell drained the warlock more than it had Palose or the killing had worried the man’s stomach, his apprentice thought keeping his face clear of the sentiment.

  Feeling no ill affects, Palose hurried off picking up the satchel holding his books, but instead of going directly to the library, he turned to the east. After turning south then east again, the mage called up his stealth spell and waited. He had felt a presence following him, but the battle mage hadn’t been able to find the source.

  After waiting a minute leaning against the building while remaining invisible, Palose could sense the one he had felt. While in the stealth spell, his eyes could not see as the light bent around him obscuring the world as much as he was from it, but the spell heightened his other senses and even copied the sight of his eyes in a fuzzy, black and white vision in his mind.

  The figure slowed looking for him and only then did he realize that there was a second person accompanying the first. His sense of smell caught the scent of a flowery perfume that would have given her away even without his stealth vision compensating.

  Releasing his stealth spell caused both of the young teenagers to jump as he asked, “To what do I owe this attention?”

  “Air spear!” Lanquer cried out instinctively almost making his teacher proud. Had he not been followed and annoyed by that, Palose probably would be.

  Stepping into Lanquer’s reach, the mage touched his finger to the boy’s jacket ordering, “Stone skin.”

  Contained to just the leather jacket, Lanquer found his arms trapped in an instant. Unable to use his air spear, the wavering shaft disappeared moments before Palose released his spell in turn. Acheri’s giggling laughter made her guardsman turn red in embarrassment.

  Lanquer said nothing while he waited for the girl and simply straightened his jacket trying to look more at ease despite Acheri’s happiness at his expense. For all the fact that they were both essentially siblings to the emperor, they all knew he was the reject and she the favored sister.

  At Palose’s apparent annoyance at their following of him, Acheri finally stopped laughing to answer with another question, “Have you started using the information in ‘True Power’ already? Atrouseon looked quite weakened after the blood spell, while you look as strong as ever.”

  Surprise crossed his face as the mage realized that he hadn’t imagined his master looked drained, but he had chalked it up to the man shouldering a bit more than he. If they had been watching, perhaps Acheri’s eyes had caught something that Palose hadn’t realized that he had been doing. “If I managed to drain some of Atrouseon’s power, it was by accident. I didn’t use any of what the book mentioned. Have you read it?”

  The girl shook her head still holding a bemused smile on her lips. “I am only a few weeks old. Reading in the library isn’t necessarily my priority, even if I do enjoy pestering you there.” At his eyes questioning her words, Acheri stated, “Oh, I know that you find my teasing annoying at times, but I can’t help it anymore than you can hide that it gets to you.”

  Laughing at him again, Acheri started when Palose interrupted her revelry questioning the first topic, “Was it Atrouseon’s weakness or your need to tease me that made you follow?”

  Lanquer tensed at the mage’s dismissive words. Acheri was the princess. Should anyone find a way too actually kill Kolban for good, the girl was the one who would lead the empire. Talking to her like she was a servant or waitress in a tavern was likely to bring punishment normally, but Palose was the master in their relationship. He taught and Lanquer tried to learn, so they were on entirely different levels even if the boy did hold more power than his teacher did.

  Despite his tone, Acheri continued to smile and even moved to grab his arm. It was a similar gesture to the one Sylvaine had used on their walk to his hideout. Somehow despite this girl’s beauty and attempt to win him over with charm, Palose found that he continued to not be able to trust her. Garosh had even warned him not to trust the siblings after all, and that man was virtually a stranger giving him advice.

  “You are our friend, Palose. Can’t I be concerned when I see your master looking worn down from such an easy spell?” the girl asked sticking out her lower lip in a pouty way.

  “I doubt it,” he said trying to turn her joking back sarcastically.

  Raising her brow inquisitively, Acheri responded, “Humor doesn’t become you, does it?

  “Well, then if you didn’t affect Atrouseon, then asking you about it does us little good. Kolban would have bid me ask into it, since he still has an interest in you.”

  “Why does the emperor have an interest in me? I am nothing but a resurrection man,” Palose said evenly and without remorse or anger. He felt little pain or anger at being what he was. To his mind, the mage did owe Atrouseon his life after all.

  People walked in the street, but the three ignored them as most would avoid butting into others’ business. The only people who interfered did so for their own sake in Ensolus, but these three standing and talking had nothing of value for the common pedestrian to think of listening in and they would have been noticed easily anyway.

  Acheri’s normal humor, which hid a darker, stronger part of her, was gone or at least held at bay. “Just a resurrection man? To my eyes and his, you have exceeded that name far beyond the others. Most resurrection men turned into little more than animals and most hated their masters to the point of trying to kill them the moment the necromancer turned his back. Wraiths and skeletal men serve blindly, even when given intelligence and autonomy like Garosh’s servants, but resurrection men need to be bound in strict runes to keep them in line.

  “From what I have heard, Atrouseon is a good necromancer, but I doubt that he is perfect in his casting. At least he is no better than those who have tried in the past, but here you are. If you have hatred for your master, you have never shown it. His death would give you his power, but you haven’t taken it. Either you are very patient, which no resurrection man has been before, or you truly don’t care. Which is it?” The girl’s eyes turned curious and she searched his face trying to penetrate his calm visage.

  “I owe Atrouseon my life, such as it may be,” Palose
cited the words faithfully. He meant them as well, even if he still foresaw the eventuality of needing his master removed. Atrouseon was far from strict in his treatment of the mage, in fact, as a student of White Hall he had far less freedom. Whether the warlock did so to maintain some distance from his creation out of the need for his own safety or not made little difference to Palose. The relationship had benefited them both and he had no strange compunction to go on some killing spree as apparently his predecessors had. “He gives me freedom to learn and be my own man. I have duties to perform as an apprentice, but they aren’t unrealistic. Why would I need to kill him? I have more power than when I was a mage in Southwall, so even that is an added bonus.”

  The girl’s face lit up and she quickly followed up on something he said, “He had you turn against Southwall. Didn’t that make you angry, Palose?”

  Shrugging, the mage replied, “I owed Ensolus my life and even a favor to betray my former country wasn’t beyond my repayment. Besides, when Southwall abandoned me to die alone, it was Ensolus which saved me.”

  Giggling at him as if what he had said had been meant as a joke she spread her hands gesturing to him. “They left you for dead, because you were dead. They don’t use the dark arts, so you were just a sack of blood and bones to them. You say you were alone, but the reports I heard said there was another man with you when you died.”

  It was Palose’s turn to frown at her words. How had the girl heard about his last day? Was his existence truly that interesting to the emperor that he had shared his background all the way to the point of his last day before he died and was reborn?

  “I was with a mage buying time for the remainder of our scouting group.”

  “The mage that you keep talking about, the one who will change all of Southwall’s capabilities as he improves the battle mages and maybe even the wizards, he was the one with you when you died?” Acheri asked pressuring the man to reveal something he had not said in any of the debriefings. No one had thought to ask, so Palose hadn’t bothered to volunteer information that would be useful to anyone.