The Rogue Mage (The Age of Oracles Book 1)

by Ben Hale

  The man’s lips twitched with amusement. “You’re not supposed to address me so informally.”

  She grinned. “Yet I do. How are your grandchildren?”

  He relented with a laugh. “My newest was born last week in Willowvale, a babe with bright red hair.”

  “Just like his mother,” Alydian said.

  “Aye,” the man said. “Perhaps they can visit you in the autumn?”

  “I’d like that,” Alydian said.

  Devkin smiled and then dropped onto his horse, departing with a final nod to her. Alydian watched him go, grateful that he’d accepted her appointment. Her former captain of the guard had been Verinai, and had sought every opportunity to prove his superiority among the other Runeguard. Devkin’s appointment had been at her request, but the guild of Verinai had refused to support the appointment for months until Alydian’s mother had stepped in.

  “Do you trust him to guard you?” she’d asked.

  “He may not have magic,” Alydian had replied. “But I trust him.”

  Her mother had smiled. “Then I’ll support your decision.”

  Alydian stepped back into her cabin but a motion drew her gaze. One of the Verinai soldiers had dismounted next to a party of merchants that had stopped to let the Oracle’s caravan pass. They craned for looks at her and she obliged with a smile, causing one of the children to wave at her.

  The Verinai soldier, a woman with a sword of aquaglass and steel on her back, stepped to a merchant and pointed to a sapphire pendent hanging from the man’s pack. The man shook his head.

  “It has already been purchased,” he said.

  “By whom?” the elven woman sneered.

  “A duke in Terros,” the man said, recoiling from the Verinai. “It’s a gift for his wife.”

  “The human can find a new gift for his whelp,” the elf said, reaching out for the pendent.

  “Hornan,” Alydian called. “Let the man be.”

  The Verinai ignored her. “This human should respect his betters.”

  “Hornan!” Devkin snapped, riding into view. “You will obey your oracle.”

  Hornan cast a sullen look at the soldier. “As you order, Captain.”

  Devkin dismounted and stepped to her. “Disobey the oracle again, and I’ll have you discharged from her guardianship.”

  His voice was cold and hard. Hornan dropped her gaze and retreated, muttering under her breath. Devkin motioned to the merchants and smiled, but they scurried away. Alydian noticed the regret in Devkin’s eyes and wondered if it was mirrored in her own. The scene would have been disturbing if it wasn’t so common.

  She entered her wagon again, resolving to speak to the council about her concerns. As she did she caught sight of Hornan riding with a pair of other Verinai, and all three glared at Captain Devkin’s back.

  The appointment of a human without magical talent to lead a group of mages was highly unusual, especially when there had been several qualified Verinai candidates. Alydian privately enjoyed the anger Devkin inspired. She would have felt guilty if Devkin was ever bothered by it, but the man never seemed to notice the current of hatred directed at him.

  She turned away from the Verinai and the annoyance they inspired, reluctantly returning to her studies. Oracles were required to read much of the great library in Dawnskeep before joining the council, and given her mother’s health, she would likely join it soon. Diving into the history of the second sentenium of Lumineia, she pored over the records, studying and memorizing events and names of those long dead.

  When she tired, she shifted to tomes on practical magic, practicing what she could within the confines of her wagon. Every branch of magic had its weaknesses, and as much as the tomes described them, they could not prepare her for an entity exploding in her hands. Her practice went against oracle tradition, but she couldn’t bring herself to let her magic languish while she read from a dusty book.

  The wagon rocked and she looked out the window. They had come to a stop on the summit of a squat hill, providing a view of the surrounding countryside. A handful of trees surrounded the hill but the terrain was open all the way to the forest of Orláknia in the distance, home to the elven kingdom. Dawnskeep resided at the border between the human kingdom of Griffin and the elven kingdom.

  The supply wagons were drawn into a circle, forming a protective ring around her wagon. Mounted soldiers filed into place and dismounted, gathering to start fires and prepare the evening meal. They were likely going to arrive at Dawnskeep the following night, and the proximity to the elven kingdom caused many of the soldiers to relax and take seats by the fire.

  Devkin barked orders, forcing the Verinai and other soldiers to their posts, causing Alydian to grin. Even here, a days’ journey from Dawnskeep, he still watched over her. His caution had been a principle reason she’d requested his appointment as captain of her guard. These days few magicless joined the Runeguard. Much to the consternation of the Verinai soldiers, Devkin continued to best many of them in training.

  Alydian had also chosen the man because she’d witnessed his loyalty and kindness to his family. She’d seen him embrace his granddaughter with a fierceness that rivaled a mother lion, and realized that if she could gain his respect, he would be a confidant as much as a protector.

  The sun hung low on the horizon, indicating the hour of the council. She rose from her chair and chewed on a strip of dried meat before retreating to her bedchamber. A pair of windows allowed light into the small space, while curtains blocked the interior from view. More books rested on a shelf next to the bed, and a pair of light orbs was bracketed into the wood. A desk was mounted to the front of the room. Closing and locking the door, she took a seat at the desk. Then she closed her eyes and used her magesight. Even through her eyelids, the wagon lit up with color. Then she pushed forward.

  She saw herself sitting in her cabin, the sun setting outside. Purple clouds swirled across her vision as she pressed forward, the density suggesting her immediate future depended on the choices of others. Given time and focus she could have pierced the veil, but that was not her purpose.

  The colors gradually dimmed as the present faded. Unique to oracles, farsight allowed her to see into the future. She latched onto her own energy and willed herself forward until the wagon became obscured by purplish clouds.

  Every oracle saw the future differently, but to her it was like a great forest. Her own tree stood in the heart of the trees, an ethereal light illuminating the trunk and canopy. Branches split off from the trunk, each representing a singular future, each fork a choice. Purple fog drifted across the forest, obscuring branches, and at times, entire trees.

  Each tree was unique, the boughs reflecting infinite possible choices, the branches so dense it was impossible to see the outcome. Some trees were stunted and broken, the consequence of foolish decisions. Others were bright and strong, marking a long and fruitful life.

  The forest seemed to go on forever, the trees lost in the fog and darkness, each representing a different person. As those closest to her, the trees of her mother and Devkin were close to hers, while the other oracles and a handful of friends were also nearby.

  Her tree was deceptively fluid, with many branches interwoven between the trees. Other limbs appeared and disappeared, representing the impact of outside choices on her own life. Given time she could trace the foreign limbs back to their owners.

  Farsight was a magic like any other, and its weakness was a dangerous one. An oracle could see fragments of fate, but could never know that future for certain, and some had fallen prey to their curiosity, losing themselves in the infinite possibilities until their mind and magic had broken.

  She paused, surprised to see a wide fork she would reach in just a few hours. She’d examined her future just days ago and seen her course nearly unbroken. Now she would pass through a haze of indecision before facing a decision that would shape the rest of her life. Someone had evidently made a decision that would impact her dramatically. She
hesitated, but knew she didn’t have time to delve into the moment further. Her jaw tightened and she made the decision that, whatever path she took, she would meet with the other oracles in one week’s time.

  The tree began to shift, the two branches bending together and briefly merging into one limb, her decision strong enough to alter her future. Although temporary, her choice rippled across the tree, bending and changing the branches into thousands of eventualities. Ignoring them, she followed the now single path forward exactly one week, the limbs a blur of faces and places. Then she pressed her consciousness into the wood and she found herself standing in the Eldress Council chamber of Dawnskeep.

  The enormous room sat on the seventh floor of the citadel, and spanned the entire structure. High windows reached the ceiling on all sides, providing an unbroken view of the surrounding city and countryside. Banners of the five oracle bloodlines hung around the room, situated behind the respective seats of the five-sided table. Afternoon light streamed through the windows, swirling motes of dust and falling upon the center of the table, where the oracle’s crest marked the surface.

  Five elven women sat around a table, and all looked up at her appearance. The event had yet to occur, but with five oracles deciding it would happen, they could use their collective farsight to meet in private. In the present, the council room lay empty. In the future, all six oracles gathered together. Alydian’s mother remained in her seat and smiled as Alydian took hers.

  “The Eldress Council is convened,” Elenyr said.

  Chapter 2: The Eldress Council

  Meressa, second on the council, inclined her head to Alydian’s mother. “Elenyr, how is your health?”

  Elenyr managed a smile, but even through the purple tint to her farsight Alydian could see the drawn look to her mother’s features. She was the only oracle actually in Dawnskeep, but was likely lying in bed in the present.

  “Deteriorating,” Elenyr said. “Yet I defy the grave.”

  The others laughed lightly, and Alydian joined in. As often as her mother was ill, she still resisted the call of death. Alydian knew she could not last much longer, but it seemed like death itself feared to claim her mother.

  Meressa smiled at Elenyr’s comment but her expression remained worried. As Second Sister, Meressa served the dwarven kingdom and rarely made the journey to Dawnskeep, but upon Elenyr’s passing she would assume the mantle of First Sister. Alydian knew her as haughty and irritable, both attributes Meressa did not reveal to the public.

  “Have you discovered the ailment that plagues you?” Ciana, fourth on the council, asked.

  “Age claims us all,” Elenyr replied with a wry smile. “But my health is not the topic we should be discussing.”

  Teriah, in the third seat, shook her head. “The loss of one of our own is always worth discussing.”

  “Perhaps,” Elenyr said, and gestured to Alydian. “But my daughter stands ready to take my place. Perhaps what we should be discussing is your lack of heirs . . .”

  The other oracles shifted uncomfortably, and Alydian hid a smile. Oracles usually chose a companion and gave birth in their third or fourth century, allowing their daughters time to assume their respective roles. At six hundred years old, Meressa was long past the time to have a child, and her features tightened at the admonishment.

  “You didn’t have a child until your seventh century,” Meressa said.

  “Not by choice,” Elenyr said with a regretful smile.

  Alydian looked to her mother and their eyes met. Four unborn children had died before Alydian had survived, and the losses were still inscribed on Elenyr’s face. Then she shook herself and gestured to Raine, the youngest and fifth on the council.

  “What is the status of the guilds?”

  “No conflicts to report,” Raine replied. “I managed to resolve the dispute between the weaver and farmer guilds with the aid of the Verinai. Alydian’s suggestions were very insightful.” She threw Alydian a smile, which Alydian returned.

  “And the northern conflicts?” Elenyr asked Ciana, who was currently in Terros guiding the human kingdom.

  “King Talin has agreed to the treaty offered by the rock trolls and is prepared to honor it. The Verinai have offered to enforce it.”

  Alydian’s eyes lingered on Ciana. The woman was shorter than the other oracles, but conveyed a disturbing aura that many commoners noticed. She always had the fewest patrons asking for aid, and those that did speak to her always seemed more fearful than grateful.

  “And the rock trolls?” Elenyr asked, shifting to face Meressa.

  “They have agreed to King Talin’s commands,” she said. Then her features tightened in disapproval. “But they continue to deny the Verinai’s request to enter their lands.”

  Alydian grinned. “The rock trolls trust their instincts.”

  Meressa turned on her. Stunning and beautiful, the elf’s eyes darkened with irritation. “Do you have something to say, child?”

  Alydian suppressed a surge of irritation. “The rock trolls have their faults, but they know how to recognize a foe. Perhaps their suspicion has merit.”

  Teriah snorted in disbelief. “The Verinai have sparked an era of prosperity our world has never seen. Their mages have increased yield of commoner crops, fortified and trained armies, and now advise nearly every king and queen. What possible cause would you have to suspect them?”

  Alydian struggled to voice her concerns. “I just don’t trust them.”

  “You may be an oracle,” Meressa said. “But you do not yet sit on the council. The only thing we should hear from you is silence.”

  Alydian flushed. Before she could reply, Raine spoke. “Alydian may not sit on the council, but she is an oracle. We should listen to her concerns.”

  Alydian cast Raine a grateful smile. They were the closest in age, and Alydian considered the woman akin to a sister. Short for an elf, Raine liked to color streaks of red into her hair, setting her apart from the other blondes in the room. The coloring elicited no small measure of disapproval from the council, but Raine refused to change it.

  Meressa regarded Raine with a pensive expression. As the youngest member of the council Raine should have been treated as the lowest ranked, but her wisdom and cunning frequently afforded her more leniency than her two centuries required.

  “Alydian’s unfounded accusations aside,” Meressa said, “the Verinai have a valid request.” She nodded to Teriah.

  “What is the request?” Elenyr asked.

  “The Soldier,” Teriah said with a scowl. “He and his Defiant are becoming bolder by the week. I have been unable to locate him with my farsight, so Guildmaster Elsin has requested the Eldress Council pressure the kingdoms to assist the Verinai in locating him.”

  “She wishes us to force the monarchs into offering aid,” Elenyr said, a frown creasing her forehead. “Do you understand the thread you wish you pull?”

  Alydian smiled at the reference to her mother’s use of farsight, a vivid tapestry. An oracle could follow the fate of anyone—if they knew who to follow. The Soldier kept his face and name hidden, even from his own followers, making him impossible to locate. He could be anyone from any kingdom.

  “I know it goes against tradition,” Teriah said, “but the Soldier needs to be found.”

  “We cannot grant such a request,” Elenyr said. “We have all used our farsight to attempt to locate him, but there is nothing else the council can do.”

  “We need to act,” Teriah said, slapping the table. “He wages war against the Verinai.”

  Elenyr shook her head. “But they wage war in return. Who’s to say who struck the first blow?”

  “You sound like you sympathize with him,” Teriah said, her features darkening. “He’s killed hundreds of Verinai.”

  “And they’ve killed hundreds of his Defiant,” Elenyr replied. “One does not simply attack a powerful foe without provocation, and the Soldier may have been provoked.”

  “How can you defend him?�
�� Teriah demanded. “We need to find and execute him.”

  “To find the man you must know his cause,” Elenyr said. “The Verinai call him a bandit but he does not steal or pillage. He is cautious and smart, and has managed to keep thousands of his Defiant from discovery. He could go after anyone but he kills Verinai, so what did they do to incite such anger?”

  “What does it matter?” Teriah asked. “He’s a bandit and killer.”

  “Teriah is right,” Ciana said. “We need to step in. If we combine our efforts, surely we can locate him and bring him to the noose he has earned. Perhaps we can have the execution here at the Dawnskeep . . .?”

  “We are a council that guides, not executes,” Elenyr said, her frown deepening. “Discipline for criminals has always been under the direction of the kingdom in which the crime was committed.”

  “How many will die before we step in?” Teriah demanded. “The Verinai have requested our aid—”

  “Which you can give,” Elenyr said. “You are the presiding oracle over their guild. But not the council.”

  “People are dying,” Teriah said. “Don’t you understand that?”

  “We cannot grant Elsin’s request,” Elenyr said. “We teach and lead. We do not govern. When we cross that line the people will never trust us again.”

  Ciana shook her head. “He has attacked Verinai shipments in every corner of Lumineia. Can we not dispatch a legion of Runeguard to find him? At the very least they might be able to locate a Defiant camp.”

  “We cannot use the Runeguard like an army,” Elenyr said. “They protect us, and only resolve disputes in small detachments—and only at the request of a monarch.”

  Teriah growled and looked away, and despite their differences Alydian felt a measure of pity for the woman. As the oracle assigned to the Verinai, Teriah spent much of her time in Verisith, the guildhall city of the Verinai. She’d shouldered the brunt of the effort to find the Soldier, and the brunt of the failure.

  Alydian’s thoughts turned to the mysterious figure. The Soldier and his Defiant had appeared six years ago and attacked Verinai shipments bound for the kingdoms. The Verinai retaliated and many Defiant were killed. The feud quickly escalated into a private war, one that the Soldier was surviving despite the guild’s might.