by Ben Hale
Alydian heard the edge of curiosity and realized the guildmaster was circling a single issue, Alydian’s identity. She had probably tried to have her followed to her supposed family home in Horizon, but her efforts had been futile. Now she must have decided to come directly to the source. But why?
“My mother is proud of my choice to join the Runeguard,” Alydian replied, slicing a piece off the perfectly seasoned potatoes. “But then, it is an honor for anyone to protect an oracle.”
“They are the best of us,” she said.
It was the first statement the woman said with full honesty, and Alydian realized the guildmaster truly believed it. She may be haughty, but she believed the oracles represented the pinnacle of magic.
“Without them we would all be lost,” Alydian agreed.
“Did one lend their farsight to your family?” Elsin asked. “Is that what drove you to become an acolyte?”
The guildmaster was steering the conversation back to Alydian’s family. Alydian chewed slowly, giving herself time to consider an answer. So far, she had spoken truthfully, albeit deceptively, but the more she answered the harder it would be.
“Yes,” she said. “Without Elenyr I would not be here.”
She managed to keep her smile earnest. Elsin smiled in turn, the motion brightening her flawless features. Beautiful was an understatement, and Alydian suppressed the touch of jealousy.
“Tell me about your family,” Elsin asked.
Alydian put her fork down, abruptly tiring of the interplay. “Perhaps it would be best if you simply asked what you wish, Guildmaster.”
Elsin regarded her for several moments before placing her own utensil on her plate. “As you desire. I wish to know how your family regard the Verinai.”
The question set Alydian back. She’d expected the woman to ask who she was, or why she’d overtly refused to join the other Verinai acolytes. Alydian had thought the Verinai would be angry at her abandoning their principles. But Elsin wanted to know if Alethean’s family had betrayed the guild, if they had taught Alethean to deny Verinai authority. And in that question Alydian realized an opening she hadn’t seen before.
“They do not care for the guild,” Alydian admitted.
“Are they single mages?” she asked, her eyebrows pulling together.
“My mother was never trained by a mage guild,” she said. “And my father died when I was a young. He was a single mage from the elven guild.”
She continued to speak the truth, but the first statement stretched it. The oracles trained themselves, so Elenyr had never participated in the training of another guild. Elsin nodded as if she’d expected it, and for the first time in the meal, relaxed.
“You are Verinai but trained outside our halls,” she said, her tone now sympathetic.
“My parents did not trust the guild,” Alydian admitted. “They felt it best I train my magics on my own.”
“Their mistrust is misplaced,” Elsin said. “But they must have had a great deal of authority to train you in secret.”
“At present, I am not permitted to reveal my parentage,” she replied.
Elsin nodded as if she understood. “Come with me, young one.”
She rose and strode to one of the doors set against the wall, and Alydian fell into step behind her. The guildmaster gestured to the door and it swung open, the metal hinges turning at her command. Then she ascended a spiral staircase to another door. It too opened at her will, and they stepped onto a broad balcony that connected to another turret.
At a hundred feet off the lake’s surface, the platform provided a stunning view of the swamp and the western end of Griffin. The line marking the edge of the Evermist was distinct, and she noticed tendrils of magic along the edge, the supports in the earth that kept the ground from sinking and adding to the bog.
The sun had set but the colors lingered on the horizon, the deep red and purple just managing to illuminate the region. The lights reflected off the scattered clouds, staining them in vibrant colors as the sun relinquished its hold on the sky.
“I must apologize for your treatment,” Elsin said, turning to face her. “The Verinai acolytes did not know you had been trained outside the guild.”
“Why would a different upbringing deserve their ire?” Alydian asked.
She swept her hand at the expanse. “Throughout Lumineia, it is an honor to be Verinai. Gnomes and trolls journey from the northland, elves and humans from the south and east, and dwarves come from the northwest. Even the occasional giant will travel months to reach our gates. All know, to be Verinai is a gift.”
“Your guild members despise me,” Alydian said pointedly. “And I have yet to understand why.”
“They assumed you were trained as they had been,” Elsin said. “You must forgive their mistake.”
“Are they trained to punish friendship with those that are not Verinai?” Alydian asked.
Elsin’s features tightened and she sidestepped the loaded question. “The kingdoms of Lumineia are ever in turmoil,” she said. “The kings and nobles squabble over coin and land, and they send their troops to spill blood over their petty greed. Everywhere you look the people suffer.”
“The oracles help maintain the peace,” Alydian said.
“Their efforts are undeniable,” Elsin said, her eyes on the Sea of Grass to the north of the fortress. “But they are too few. They speak but the people do not hear.”
“All respect the Eldress Council,” Alydian said with a frown.
“But respect does not equate to obedience,” Elsin said, turning to face her. “Nor does it build discipline. The people inevitably return to their baser instincts.”
“It is the way of the world,” Alydian said. “Another may encourage and uplift, but the choice to rise comes from within.”
“Only in the absence of a true leader,” she replied. “And as I said, the oracles cannot be everywhere.”
“But the Verinai can.”
She couldn’t keep the rancor from her voice, and Elsin’s features hardened. “We are the mightiest of guilds, and not even the armies of man can offer challenge to our power. In time, perhaps the kingdoms will see us as more than builders and enchanters.”
“What do you want from me?” Alydian asked.
“An answer,” Elsin said. “One with five talents deserves a place of highest honor among our masters—especially for one as powerful as you.”
“You have not asked a question,” Alydian pointed out.
“Join the guild,” she said, “and be trained as you deserve.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then I’ll know your loyalty lies elsewhere.”
The guildmaster’s voice was mild, but it did not soften the threat. Alydian recognized the question for what it was, an opportunity to join the Verinai and become like the guildmaster. She was offering honor, prestige, and power, in return for unwavering loyalty. When Alydian did not answer, the guildmaster gestured to the door.
“You may return to your acolyte companions, but know that I expect an answer upon your return from your current assignment. Disappointing me would be unwise.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Not from me, of course, but there are those in the guild that may consider your actions treasonous, and respond in kind. They might slip poison into your ale.” Elsin laughed, the sound light and mocking.
Grateful that Alethean was about to die, Alydian offered a short bow. “I assure you, I will have an answer by then.”
“Excellent,” Elsin said. “And do remember that your choices reflect on those around you. I’m certain you would not want to put anyone you love in danger.”
Alydian resisted the urge to rip the Alethean necklace form her throat and challenge the woman, but she turned and strode away, hardly noticing when a Verinai guard fell into step beside her.
She reached the meal hall but found many of the Verinai on their feet, all huddled around someone on the ground. Alydian pushed her way through to find Commander Oth
an kneeling beside Toala, who coughed and clenched her stomach.
“You are well,” the captain said. “You must have eaten something that did not agree with you.” His gaze swept the gathering. “You may return to your meal.”
Alydian focused on the flushed woman and blinked into her magesight, instantly noticing the dark tinge to her belly, the mark of poison. The dosage was minimal, just enough to cause illness without death.
Alydian turned away and strode to her quarters, but found that her belongings had been moved to another room, one of the dignitary suites. Although it was built for comfort, she did not feel comfortable. She entered and shut the door before scanning the room for signs of magical observation. When she was certain she was alone she sank into a chair by the hearth and pulled her knees to her chest, fighting to control her rage and fear.
The guildmaster had poisoned her friend as a warning, and in the same moment given her a gift. Even without words the message was clear. Alethean was being given the chance to be a Verinai, or become an enemy. It was her choice.
“I choose death,” she muttered, relieved that her persona was about to end.
Chapter 29: Greenwood
The next morning they departed Mistkeep shortly after dawn and made their way back into the Sea of Grass. Alydian remained at Toala’s side but the woman looked no worse for wear after being poisoned.
“I don’t know what it was,” she said. “I was eating with the others when suddenly my throat closed up and I couldn’t breathe.”
“You should take smaller bites,” Ferin said with a smile.
“Maybe it was poison,” Grogith said.
His scowl implied it wasn’t a joke, but others took it as one, and even Alydian forced a laugh. When it subsided Toala changed the topic, and Alydian didn’t press the issue. She looked back as the fortress faded from sight and swore she spotted the guildmaster standing on the battlements.
The group made their way west, following the road until it reached Greenwood. The stretch of forest merged directly with the Evermist swamp, and the mist spread into the dark trees. Miles long, the strip of trees was dark and foreboding, and more than one traveler had been lost in its depths.
The southern highway bordered it for several miles, and the Black Shroud used the proximity to strike. His bandits attacked caravans before taking their reward back into Greenwood, where the Griffin army had been unable to find his lair.
Alydian recalled that at one time Greenwood had been bright and open, and much larger. But the ground beneath the forest was soft . Underground streams weakened the earth, causing the entire forest to gradually sink. When it did, the swamp waters expanded, swallowing the trees trunk by trunk.
Commander Othan brought them to a halt at the edge of the forest. “Our informant has detailed the Black Shroud’s camp,” he said. “A triangular ravine lies in the heart of Greenwood, and that’s where the Black Shroud calls home. Each acolyte patrol will attack from a different entrance to the ravine. If the bandits submit to capture, they will hang in the Herosian square. Otherwise, their executions have been ordered. You are free to carry them out.”
He turned and entered Greenwood, the mist swallowing his form. Alydian entered behind Grogith and used her magic to scan the region ahead. Although the cloud of indecision blanketed the impending attack, the next several hours were clear.
“Blasted mist,” Grogith muttered.
“They could be waiting to ambush us,” Toala agreed.
“They won’t,” Alydian said calmly.
“And how can you be so certain?” Ferin asked, casting her a strange look.
Realizing she’d spoken too confidently, she shrugged. “They don’t know we’re coming,” she said.
“Perhaps,” Ferin replied, and then pointed to the dense mist. “But I think I’ll hold onto my caution.”
“Her reasoning is sound,” Grogith said with a grunt.
“Does our gnome actually have a friend?” Ferin asked, a smile spreading on his face.
“No.”
The answer was hardly more than a grunt. Still, Alydian noticed a trace of another emotion in the gnome’s dark eyes—respect. She grinned and inclined her head, but the gnome merely looked away.
The conversation remained light but a trace of nervousness was evident in their words. Although Alydian knew they would not fall upon hardship until the upcoming battle, the uncertainty of the battle instilled fear into her soul.
Aside from the Soldier’s attack she’d never fought for her life, and never taken life except inside a Requiem. Now she would be required to do both against a foe that would undoubtedly be desperate to escape. Capture would certainly end in a noose, so they would be fighting for their lives.
The forest grew progressively darker as the mist thickened. The stench of rot filled the air, indicating they were drawing close to the Evermist. Grogith muttered under his breath about the reek and Ferin laughed lightly.
Ferin alone seemed at ease, his posture relaxed yet wary as he strode beside Toala, who fidgeted at every sound. Grogith kept a hand on the hilt of his dagger, a weapon he rarely used except to fight mages, which their informant had made clear the bandits were not. Anti-magic was tremendously powerful against mages, but useless against magicless.
Alydian’s fears were magnified by the fate she knew would befall her. She wanted to protect her friends and endure the battle, but knew she was seeking the chance to feign death and slip away. Then she would journey back to Dawnskeep alone.
The Runeguard would undoubtedly seek to retrieve her body, so she had to perish in a way that made that impossible. Although she hadn’t told her mother, she planned to use Holan. As lieutenant of the first patrol, he would lead the charge. His recklessness had injured several of the other acolytes during the Crucible, and if Alydian could find a way to let his favored flame entity strike her . . .
She stared into the dark trees without seeing them, irritated at her impending demise. She liked being Alethean, as much for the freedom she had as for the training she received. She recognized her mother’s plan as the best course of action, but it rankled to abandon the identity. Alethean had learned more about the Verinai in six months than she had in decades as Alydian.
Her thoughts turned to the conversation with Elsin. The woman was pious and arrogant, but her words were not without truth. The kingdoms of Lumineia truly did struggle, and no amount of oracle intervention had prevented their petty wars and pride.
If the Verinai did take over, life for the magicless would be unbearable . . . wouldn’t it? Perhaps they wouldn’t have to go to war, and the wants of food and shelter would be all but negated. But was safety worth the loss of freedom? And could the Eldress Council keep the Verinai in check?
In her sixth decade, Alydian had journeyed to each of the kingdoms and met with kings and nobles from every race. All had sought to curry favor with her, but a glimpse into their futures had left her shaking in anger.
Most of the nobles would betray their families and kingdoms for coin, while the monarchs themselves had many secret arrangements to keep their power and line their pockets. Even the elven queen had her secrets, and Alydian had been shocked to learn them. When she voiced her feelings to her mother, the answer had been as sad as the truth.
“It has always been so,” Elenyr said. “The honor of man is fleeting and weak, and few will ever master themselves.”
“But they are leaders and nobles,” Alydian had protested. “How can they be so regal on the outside and so vile inside?”
“A monarch is still mortal,” she said. “Coin and corruption are always linked, even if the people do not know it.”
“Then what do we do?” Alydian demanded, beginning to pace. “How can we stop what they will do?”
“We do not stop them,” Elenyr said with a sad smile. “We guide and help, but the choice to rise or fall is always their own.”
“But so many will fall,” Alydian replied.
Elenyr rose and stepp
ed to her, stopping her angry pacing. “One cannot rise unless one has fallen. Learning is more than receiving a lesson. It is gaining the discipline to live the lesson. Since the Dawn of Magic the kingdom of Griffin has endured—not because the kings were honorable—but because the oracles guided them to honor. The greatest privilege of an oracle is witnessing a person discover the honor that slumbers within.”
Alydian shook her head and the forest of Greenwood returned to her eyes. Her mother had spoken the truth, but now she wondered if Teriah had fallen prey to the whisper of power. What could the other oracles even do? Never before had an oracle betrayed the council, and the need to discipline a traitor could very well lead to an end of the Eldress Council.
“Alethean?”
She blinked and turned to Toala, realizing as she did that the girl had called her name several times. The sound mage regarded her with disapproval but motioned forward, and Alydian followed her gaze.
The other acolytes had come to a halt on a ridge. As Alydian took her place among them she looked down the slope into a shallow valley. Mist pooled between the trees, but did not completely obscure the canyon below.
The triangular canyon was deepest at the center. It was not overly large, and each of the three points grew shallower until they merged with the valley floor. Light glowed from the canyon and spilled into the mist.
Commander Othan appeared at their side. “Grogith, take your patrol to the western point. The assault begins in ten minutes. Meet in the middle with any you have captured. If any escape you, your entire patrol will be dismissed. Is that clear?”
Grogith grunted in agreement. “As you order, Commander.”
Othan sneered at Grogith’s insolent tone. Without a word the gnome turned away and they began to circle the valley, working their way through the trees to the western point. Alydian expected sentries, but they were better hidden than even she expected. Only her farsight saved them, and she came to an abrupt halt and raised a hand to the trees ahead.
Limbs bent and spun, wrapping around a man hiding on a small platform high above the trail. He managed a squeak of surprise before the limbs closed off his mouth and dragged him to the forest floor. Alydian released her magic and the wood hardened, leaving the man bound and gagged.