by Ben Hale
“He is not evil,” she said quietly.
“He’s killed hundreds,” he said.
“Yet he acts with honor,” she replied. “I cannot explain further.”
“Then what now?”
“I don’t know.”
“You are an oracle,” he pointed out. “Have you not used your farsight to examine the possibilities?”
“The events of my third trial are clouded by indecision,” she said. “And even my mother has remarked on how unusually dense it is.”
“Do you see evil in the Verinai?” he asked.
She sucked in her breath. “A frightening amount,” she said, “in most of them.”
“Then your choices should be clear,” he replied. “Do you ally yourself with those that are filled with malice . . . or honor?”
Her eyes widened. “You would have me publicly support the Soldier?”
“Not the Soldier,” he said. “The Soldier’s cause.”
It was a fine line, but a clever tactic. If she began to publicly question the Verinai’s actions, and even launch an inquisition, it would shine light upon the secretive guild. A smile spread on her face. The single mage guilds, the magicless, even the kingdoms of Lumineia would collectively demand answers. But how would the Verinai react to such opposition? How would Teriah?
Her smile faded. They would retaliate, that much was certain. They would never be cowed by those they called barren. For them to submit would require force, meaning Alydian needed the support of the entire Eldress Council.
“What about Teriah?” she asked. “She claimed to have verified the Verinai’s creation of the guardian spell, and all signs indicate she is a rogue mage in the council, the betrayer the Soldier spoke of.”
“The Verinai could have falsified their work to Teriah,” he mused.
“It is nearly impossible to deceive an oracle,” she said with a shake of her head. “And if Teriah has signed the Accord to create a Mage Empire . . .?”
“If Teriah has betrayed the council, wouldn’t your mother know of it?” he asked.
“Her health declines by the week,” she said, her stomach tightening with worry. “She has relied more and more on the other Sisters.”
“Then we must tread carefully,” Devkin said. “But speak to your mother first. She will want to hear of this.”
Alydian hesitated. She had yet to tell her mother of Devkin’s visit, and found herself reluctant to do so. Her mother had been lenient when she’d discovered Alydian’s true training, but she would likely be disappointed upon hearing Alydian had allowed the Soldier to escape. It would also mean admitting her affection for him.
“She’s resting,” Alydian replied. “I will speak to her upon my return from the third trial. With Alethean dead, I will be free to carry forward as Alydian.” And bring the Verinai to their knees, she mentally added.
Her jaw tightened. Now that she knew her course, she began to ask questions about the third trial. As one of the captains tasked with training the acolytes, Devkin was privy to the third trial plans. Acolytes were not supposed to know the events of the trial, so she would have to feign ignorance among her friends.
The next morning Alydian rose early and, as per her usual routine, made her way to the library first before donning her Alethean persona. She arrived at the gates of Dawnskeep just as the other acolytes appeared. Ignoring the baleful looks from the remaining two patrols of Verinai, she joined her own patrol.
Grogith, Toala, and Ferin had all finished the second trial, and all but Grogith smiled at her approach. With two elves, a gnome, and a human, their group was the most varied of the acolytes, and the smallest.
“Glad you could make it,” Toala said, inclining her head to Alydian.
Ferin grinned and tapped his newly issued armor. “I admit I like the new gear. It’s shiny.”
They had been training in armor for the last few weeks now, and although it still showed blue highlights, it resembled the white and blue of the standard Runeguard uniform. Alydian smiled in turn.
“Do we know anything about our target?”
They shook their heads, and Alydian managed to keep the smile from her face. Their target was a bandit camp in the western province of Griffin. Led by a man known as the Black Shroud, the group preyed on caravans traveling to and from the city of Herosian, the largest of the western cities.
Devkin and Alydian had done what research they could into the group but found very little beyond an area they preferred to operate in. Fortunately, a recent attack had been foiled, and a bandit had been captured. He’d promised to lead the Runeguard to the camp in exchange for freedom and gold, both of which he would never get.
Alydian didn’t care for the subterfuge, but the reports on the group indicated they were particularly ruthless. Dozens of bodies had been found, with several caravans stripped bare, their merchant owners and guards left to rot in the road. Grief stricken wives had demanded retribution, and the Runeguard had offered to deal with them in place of the regular Griffin army.
Commander Othan stood at the head of the group and ordered them to march, and Alydian fell into step with her patrol. It was her final days as a Runeguard soldier, but a ghost of a smile appeared on her face as she exited Dawnskeep. She looked about herself, free of guards, free of restraints. For the first time in her life she walked as her own woman and, for the fleetest of moments, she felt free.
Chapter 27: Mistkeep
With Commander Othan and a pair of captains to lead them, the fourteen remaining acolytes made their way through the rolling hills and into the Sea of Grass, so named for its endless vista of waist high grass. The expanse flowed in the breeze, beautiful and serene, if a bit melancholy.
They camped in the open, and Alydian watched the stars drift across the sky. Several times she slipped into her farsight to look at her own future, but the impending battle was still shrouded in uncertainty. Although she tried to resist the impulse, she frequently found herself using her magic to track Raiden.
He made his way north, bypassing Dawnskeep as Alydian traveled southwest. Even though she was not present, a part of her wanted him to return to her quarters. He paused and watched the fortress, and she flushed as if he were looking at her. Gratified but conflicted, she extinguished her magic and relaxed into slumber.
The acolytes rose at dawn and continued their journey. Drifting to the rear of the force, she spoke in undertones with Ferin and Toala, and Grogith when he decided to speak. They talked and laughed, and Alydian relished the final moments as Alethean. As an acolyte she’d turned into a warrior, and enjoyed friendship and unity. As Alydian she was revered and respected, but could count no one but Raine a friend.
As they neared the southern part of the region, they crested a rise and the Evermist came into view. The sprawling swamp lay shrouded in greenish mist. The swamp had been gradually encroaching on Griffin lands for ages, so they had permitted the Verinai to build a guildhall on a lake that bordered the swamp. The Verinai used their magic to contain the swamp, and in turn the guild had a stronghold in Griffin.
“We’ll stop in Mistkeep for the night,” Commander Othan said, gesturing to the fortress in the distance.
Alydian glanced at her friends, who bore expressions of curiosity mingled with apprehension. Even the gnome seemed nervous. Aside from Verisith, which was more city than guildhall, the Verinai strongholds allowed few outsiders into their walls.
The group followed the path downhill until it joined a large roadway. The region seemed deserted except for the castle, which rose from an island on a lake. The fortress lay shrouded in the greenish fog that seeped from the swamp. Its walls were high and strong, and several turrets rose above the landscape, providing an unparalleled view of the Evermist and its surroundings. As large as the late King Talin’s castle, Mistkeep had been built by magic, its foundation sunk deep into the swamp until it fastened to the bedrock beneath.
The road came to an abrupt halt at the lake, where murky water separate
d them from the fortress. With the sun setting, the guards on the battlements were clearly visible, and one raised a hand, casting an eagle of pure light. It dived to the water and soared across it, sweeping around them before alighting on Commander Othan’s outstretched arm.
“Commander Othan and Runeguard acolytes,” he said. “All are Verinai except three.”
“You may enter,” the bird said, the voice and accent distinctly human. “We will prepare quarters for your group.”
It stretched its wings before soaring back to its caster, circling to watch them as they waited. Alydian glanced at Toala but the woman smiled, the expression one of nervous excitement. Then a deep clanking rumbled from beneath the water, and a large shape materialized. Breaching the surface, the bridge locked into place, the water draining off through channels built into the bridge’s walls.
The bridge had been built of white granite, pristine despite having been deep in the sludge of the lake. As they crossed, Alydian spotted numerous alligators on lake’s surface. She swallowed and realized why the lake had been chosen for the location of Mistkeep.
The large portcullis was raised and the acolytes were led inside. The Verinai guards greeted Commander Othan warmly, while their eyes slid across the acolytes until they spotted Alydian with her three companions.
“This way,” the dwarf said. “We are preparing quarters for you now.”
The interior of the citadel was just as bright as the exterior. White granite and marble shaped the foundation, the walls illuminated by expensive gremlins of light rather than the cheaper orbs produced by the elven guild of light.
The clawed gremlins prowled the ceiling, clinging to poles bracketed into the corners. They scowled down at the newcomers, their thick claws scratching the steel as they kept pace with Alydian. Both for light and defense, the gremlins were the size of a badger, but were strong enough to take down an armored knight. When Alydian had learned how to craft that particular entity, she’d seen it cut through solid plate armor with its claws.
“Those don’t look friendly,” Ferin murmured, eyeing the gremlins.
“They aren’t,” Alydian said.
They followed the corridor to the first of three great halls in the fortress. Obviously intended as a waypoint for the travel of goods, the great hall contained stables on one side and crates and barrels throughout. Small light entities crafted to resemble mythical fairies fluttered in cages, the creatures bound for wealthy homes and nobles.
The scent of horses was overpowered by the produce and spices grown by Verinai plant mages. Cinnamon, peppers, salt, and other ingredients filtered into the air, a pleasant aroma that caused Grogith to sneeze.
“Your quarters are this way,” the Verinai captain said, gesturing them down a hall. “The Verinai are welcome throughout the castle, but for their own safety, any non-Verinai are restricted to this hall and the guest quarters.”
“Sounds like we’re being caged,” Ferin murmured.
“It’s just one night,” Toala said.
They followed the group to the guest quarters. One side of the corridor contained lavish quarters, the doors open to reveal private bathing chambers, large beds, and crackling fires. The opposite side was evidently reserved for servants, and accommodations were far more modest.
“The meal hall is on the far end of the corridor,” he Verinai guard captain said. “You may join us for the evening repast.”
The Verinai acolytes were quick to claim a room, but when Alydian and her patrol reached the end of the line the Mistkeep captain brought them to a halt and gestured to the opposite side of the hall. Although his voice was mild, his expression bordered on a smirk.
“I’m afraid the rest of the dignitary quarters are being renovated,” he said. “I fear you will have to make do with the servant’s quarters.”
His gaze flicked to Alydian, narrowing slightly as their eyes met. Alydian saw the recognition in his eyes, and realized the dwarf knew exactly who Alethean was, and who she’d chosen as her acolyte companions.
“Your hospitality is—as always—legendary,” Alydian said, but her smile carried more scorn than gratitude.
Turning on her heel, she entered the nearest servant’s quarters and removed her pack, placing it on the small bed. Removing her armor, she donned acolyte blues, and used the water in the tiny sink to wash. Then she exited and joined the other acolytes making their way to dinner.
As she stepped through the threshold into the meal hall, her gaze lifted to the vaulted space. Large balconies overlooked the main hall, evidently reserved for the upper ranked Verinai. Instead of a chandelier, an entire dragon of light hovered in the center of the chamber. She stepped towards an empty table but a hand caught her elbow, causing her to turn.
“You have been requested to sit at a different table,” Commander Othan said.
“By whom?”
“You have your orders, acolyte.”
Alydian suppressed the surge of curiosity and followed the guard at Othan’s side upward into the fortress. Grogith caught her eye and the gnome’s expression turned into a scowl. Following the guard, Alydian ascended into the fortress. She had not anticipated this, and managed to force a glimpse of her farsight. Her heart sank when she realized who had summoned her.
The upper levels of the fortress were a maze of corridors and training rooms. Sources of magic were abundant, both for training as well as producing goods for export. Through an open door she noticed a large garden, the corn stalks well over ten feet tall and boasting dozens of ears rather than one. A trio of plant mages walked among them, using their magic to sprout even more.
Another room contained a group of Verinai crafting entities. The wolves were larger than reality, their coats threaded with fire and sound, their bodies built from fluid stone. Capable of breathing fire and communicating with their masters, the sentients would be powerful defenders when complete. She guessed the mages were four years into the ten it would take to finish the quartet of wolves, but the profit when they were sold would more than balance the investment.
Everywhere she looked she saw signs of the wealth the Verinai had accumulated, and wondered how the guild had become so powerful. The guild contained only fifty thousand members, but it seemed they were everywhere in the kingdoms. Their presence was felt in every facet of commerce, government, and the military.
And they were all loyal to the guild of Verinai.
She shuddered, realizing for the first time that the Verinai had placed their members into key positions in every kingdom. If the Soldier had not taken notice and tried to stop them, the Verinai might have forged their Mage Empire without opposition.
They ascended a large staircase to a set of double doors. Flanked by two lower ranked Verinai, the doors were polished and built of a single tree, the limbs and roots woven together into a seamless barrier. At their command, the tree uncoiled, opening the way for Alydian and her guide to enter.
Alydian stepped into the spacious receiving room. A trio of doors were placed on the opposite walls, while the main room contained couches and tables carefully placed to accentuate the curving walls of the space. At the center, a small dining table had been set for two, and one seat was already occupied.
By Elsin, guildmaster of Verinai.
“Alethean,” she said, gesturing to the seat across from her. “It would please me for you to join my table.”
Alydian saw the malice behind the smile, the scorn in her arched eyebrows. The elven woman exuded power, as if it leaked from every pore. She was supremely confident, the most powerful woman in all of Lumineia. Alydian gathered her courage and strode to the table, taking a seat.
“Guildmaster,” she said, inclining her head. “I am grateful for your summons.”
“Excellent,” Elsin replied, her eyes glittering. “We have much to discuss.”
Chapter 28: Elsin’s Offer
Alydian knew she should lower her gaze and act submissive, but the oracle in her refused to bow. She held the guild
master’s gaze until Elsin cocked her head to the side. Her expression turned curious as they sat in silence. The way she blinked indicated she was examining Alydian with her magesight, making Alydian glad she’d taken measures to shield other mages from seeing all the magics she truly wielded.
“I have wanted to speak with you for some time,” the guildmaster said.
Elsin swept her hand at the table and then took a bite. Alydian cautiously followed her example, uncertain as to the sudden shift in mood. The vegetables were perfectly steamed, no doubt prepared by magic to ensure the various types were cooked well without turning to mush.
“I’m simply a humble acolyte,” Alydian replied. “For what cause would you wish to speak to me?”
“Come now,” Elsin said. “The tales from your group of acolytes have reached the breadth of the guild.”
Alydian’s gut tightened but she kept her tone light. “Tales of training are hardly interesting.”
“Oh, but they are,” she said, tearing a roll apart and spreading cinnamon butter on the interior. Her gaze never left Alydian as she passed a hand over the bread, a flicker of fire searing the bread to a perfect golden tint, the butter melting into the bread. “Your choice in friends is . . . surprising.”
“They are honest and not arrogant,” Alydian replied, deciding that a touch of honesty might glean more from the guildmaster.
Elsin laughed lightly. “Arrogance without talent deserves to be humbled,” she said, “while arrogance with talent deserves a reward.”
The statement carried the ring of repetition, and Alydian wondered if it came from Verinai training. She frowned, wondering why the guildmaster would quote it—unless she was baiting her.
“I have several talents,” Alydian said, “but I deserve no pride.” She sipped from the water, which held spheres of ice and wedges of lemon.
“Your mother must be proud of you,” Elsin said. “For even among the Verinai there are few quinmages.”