Severed Empire: Wizard's Rise

by Phillip Tomasso

  “I believe it is safe to assume we will head north for the dagger first, then to the east for the chalice?” Quill stood there, legs apart, hand holding wrist behind his back.

  “We?” Blodwyn said.

  “I’m coming with you,” Quill said. “I’m family, after all.”

  Mykal sighed. “Family?” he laughed.

  “I think he should accompany us. Anthony, too,” Galatia said, as if she did not hear Mykal’s last statement, or if she did, she chose to ignore it.

  Nothing felt right to Mykal. He needed time alone with Blodwyn. “Once we get the dagger and chalice, there’s nothing else we need to search for?”

  “That is all,” the wizard said, the palms of her hands pressed peacefully together.

  Mykal kept looking upward. He couldn’t see a single Archer. They must have the group surrounded, arrows ready to go. “And then we summon the others.”

  “Yes.”

  “I suppose the sooner we find these things, the sooner we can head home,” Mykal said.

  Galatia looked around, then back at Mykal. “Home? I’m not sure you fully understand what’s going on. No. You can’t go home.”

  Mykal eyed Blodwyn. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. I—”

  “The war is coming, Mykal. The king and his men are on the way. They hunt for us as we stand idle discussing things we’ve already covered. He wants these items.” She patted the leather satchel. “He wants me, and he wants you. There is no going home, Mykal. We are only at the beginning. This is only where it all starts. I thought you knew that when we left the farm.”

  Deflated, Mykal waved a wild hand around, and pointed behind them, toward home. “I will return home. I will not abandon my grandfather. That is not what family does.”

  “My father,” Quill whispered.

  Karyn put a hand on the back of Mykal’s arm. He felt the warmth from her touch pass through his body, it soothed his itch, and calmed his anxiety. He thought his heartbeat slowed, but couldn’t be sure.

  “But you are one of the wizards,” Galatia said. “You need training. Magic comes easily to you. I am impressed by the things you’ve been able to do naturally. I will help you. Along the way, I will teach you things that will allow you to control your abilities,” Galatia said.

  Blodwyn interjected, “And where is the dagger?”

  “It’s within the Gorge Caves, beneath the Zenith Mountains,” she said.

  Quill whistled. “The caves, seriously?”

  Mykal knew the mountains. On a clear day the snowy peaks were sometimes visible from the farm. The Isthmian cut the range in half, just north of Crimson Falls. He often planned riding out with Babe to see them more closely, but had never got around to it. There were always too many chores.

  “You’ve been there?” Galatia asked Quill.

  “I’ve been as far as the Ironwall Pass. Rough area. Originally, it was set up as kind of a military outpost. It was only after the old empire fell that it became a village independent from the nations. It’s about a day’s ride,” Quill said, and then nodded toward Anthony. “We know a man, mines for coal beneath the mountains.”

  “They all mine for coal beneath the mountains,” Blodwyn said. Mykal almost smiled. No one except Galatia seemed keen on having the Archers join them.

  “It won’t be simple getting through Ironwall Pass without trouble. I can assure you, even if you’re not looking for a fight, you’re going to find one,” Anthony said. “The way the four of you look, you’ll practically be begging those guys to kick your a—”

  Quill raised his hand, silencing Anthony. “I know we got off to a rocky start.”

  “Like you trying to kill us?” Mykal said.

  “I told you,” Quill said. “I talked with Galatia. I understand what she’s saying. We were knights once. We took vows to protect and serve. It wasn’t our fault the lawmakers were corrupt, and the laws unjust. We did what we were commanded to do for as long as we could.”

  “And then you became hoods,” Mykal said. “Robbing, and killing. Talk about a one-eighty.”

  Anthony stepped forward, fist cocked.

  Again, Quill raised a hand, halting the attack. “You do not know what you’re talking about, nephew. And now is not the time. A storm is coming in from the sea. It is going to rain soon.”

  “And how do you know this?” Mykal asked.

  Thunder boomed.

  “Let us get our things, our horses, and we will guide you through Ironwall Pass. We’ll help you retrieve the dagger. If you don’t want us helping after that, we’ll return to the forest. At least we’ll know we did our part to help this cause.”

  Mykal noticed everyone stared at him, including Galatia.

  Karyn never removed her hand from his arm.

  They expected him to make the call. While he still considered this Galatia’s journey, he may have been the only one. “We’ll wait. Get your stuff, your horses.”

  ***

  The Evidanus River sliced through the Cicade. It fed Lantern Lake, and ran east to the Isthmian. Although not very wide, the rocks and rapids made anyone think twice about attempting to cross on foot. Quill and Anthony led them to a small wooden bridge. There wasn’t much of a trail to follow once out of the woods.

  “The bridge is guarded from the trees.” Quill waved to unseen men hidden by the cover of the forest. “No one gets across without our knowing.”

  Large, black clouds spun slowly, unnaturally in a gyre above them. No one remarked on the anomaly. It rained, and thundered, lightning flashed from the central core of the dark mass. Magic had to be driving the odd storm, this fact instinctively understood by everyone in their party.

  Horseshoes clacked on the bridge.

  Mykal knew that following the river northwest would eventually lead to Karyn’s family castle. He knew the realm was in ruins, but had no idea to what extent. If Karyn had become Nabal’s ward at a young age, he assumed she didn’t know the condition of her kingdom, either. Maybe she did; perhaps King Nabal had visited the lands and had brought her with him. It would have been a foolishly cruel thing to do, taking a child to see the decimated remains of her birthright, but kings weren’t often recognized for their intelligence. The throne was not given to the most capable; it was purely a matter of lineage.

  “I never got the chance to thank you,” Mykal said, riding beside Karyn.

  “Thank me?”

  “For saving my life. Things got hectic kind of fast. I wasn’t thinking. You saved my life, and I didn’t even thank you.”

  She smiled. “It’s why I’m here.”

  “Oh,” he said. “Well, I just wanted to say thanks. So, thanks.”

  “That’s not how I meant it,” Karyn said. “I found you because I’ve dreamt of you since as far back as I can remember. I’m glad I was here to help you.”

  “Perhaps we should have stayed in the forest until the storm passed,” Blodwyn said from behind them.

  Mykal’s stomach sank. He thought about his grandfather, and the farm. He felt that the storm wasn’t going to pass anytime soon. It was like Galatia had said, this was just starting. They were only at the beginning. He was working hard to accept his fate. Every time he thought he had a grasp of things that have happened, and of things yet to come, he panicked and found himself reverting. It would take him some time, unfortunately, it sounded like there was little time remaining for the ability to adapt.

  Chapter 26

  Prince Calah Nabal followed the king everywhere. At ten years and three, the boy was on the cusp of manhood. With matching crimson capes, Calah also wore a sword on his belt, but kept a hand on the hilt at all times. The prince’s golden hair resembled wheat. The scar along the left side of his jaw gave his appearance gravitas the king felt, at least. It was from a fall. The boy had tripped on stone stairs, the cut a product of his face striking the wall as he tumbled. Calah could alter the story when older, making it suit his needs.

  “I’ve not seen clouds like that e
ver before, have you, father?” Prince Calah said. They were in the long room where the knights’ captain reviewed a map of the land with his king.

  “Come away from the window. This is far more important than rain.” While the king appreciated the boy’s enthusiasm, he grew annoyed with the constant flow of questions that continually wandered from topic to topic. “My apologies, Lanster. You were saying?”

  “Riders were dispatched along all roads. All have returned except for those sent north. They were to ride as far as the Cicade Forest, Lantern Lake, and return. They should have been back by now.”

  King Nabal looked at the map, although it wasn’t needed for reference.

  “Archer’s must have gotten them,” the prince said.

  Nabal would have shushed his son, but couldn’t argue with his conclusion. He knew Lanster wouldn’t appreciate the accusation. As Captain of the Knights, Lanster knew most of the men living in the trees, had trained many of them as young squires. Sparing feelings wasn’t the king’s concern, however. He thought Lanster considered the Archers deserters, and oath breakers, but couldn’t be positive. “It is possible they ran into trouble.”

  “I can send another platoon that way in the morning,” Sir Lanster said.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Enter,” Nabal said.

  Prince Calah walked around the center table, eyeing the map and licking his lips. He kept his hands folded behind his back. The king watched, hoping his son was listening, and learning. Even though Nabal had no plans to die anytime soon, Calah was the last of his bloodline.

  A knight from the Watch entered saluting. “Your highness. Prince Calah. Captain.”

  “Yes?” King Nabal said, the impatience apparent in his voice.

  “A ship has docked in the Delta Cove, sire.”

  King Nabal stood up straight. “Ship?”

  At the eastern end of the kingdom there was Ridgeland Port and Delta Cove with docks and slips in place for fishing boats. The locations were rarely used. Two-man row boats, and those only slightly larger, barely ventured offshore in order to cast nets. No one risked sailing out much further.

  “Voyagers,” Prince Calah said.

  The knight shook his head. “I was told it was not a Voyager ship.”

  “Where did it come from?” King Nabal said. No matter from what angle he looked at it, the news was troublesome. If a Voyager had docked within the cove, the question was why? Why were they here and what did they want? If it was as the knight said, and not Voyagers, then who? Where did they come from, and what did they want?

  “I’m not sure, your highness.” The knight shifted weight from one leg to the other. His stare was aimed at the floor, mostly.

  “Lanster, I want your men to investigate this. And for you to go with them,” Nabal said.

  “Yes, sire. And I will dispatch that platoon to the forest,” Lanster said. “We’ll all ride at first light.”

  “You’ll go now,” Nabal ordered.

  ***

  Night came barely noticed. There had been no sunlight due to the roiling storm, so there had been little transition. The horses galloped across wet fields of high, green grass. Hooves kicked up mud, spattering it on cloaks. A low fog rolled with them, as though it were following. The temperature had dropped considerably. The cold air surrounded them like a chilled blanket, but was better than when Mykal caught a whiff of his dried sweat.

  They must soon stop for the night. They’d not reach the pass anytime soon. They were better off entering the mining town well rested, or at least better rested than they were. The longest day of his life was coming to an end. He couldn’t imagine the next few days getting any easier. Resting whenever possible would be the smartest idea, Mykal knew. As bone weary as he was, Mykal wasn’t sure he’d be able to fall asleep.

  Once the rain stopped, they rode on just a little further before, decided, Mykal whistled. Karyn, Blodwyn, and Galatia halted their horses. Riding point, Quill and Anthony were too far ahead. The whistle didn’t reach their ears. Soon enough they’d realize everyone else had stopped, and return. “I have never been beyond the forest before. Well, I have never been as far as the forest either. I thought for sure we’d have encountered a barn, or somewhere suitable to rest for the night.”

  “Not many land owners this far from the realm,” Blodwyn said, his hands on the horn of his saddle. “Between the forest and the pass is good land, but mostly unused land. We passed the last small farms, homes and barns long before we reached the forest.”

  Mykal looked around. “We’ll stay here for the night.”

  The thick fog that covered the ground as high as his knees carried with it a certain eeriness. Each step he took sent the fog swirling. It made him wonder if stopping was the best decision.

  The Archers returned. The horses neighed and shook their heads, as their riders reined them in. Quill patted his mare on the neck. “I take it we’re stopping for the night?”

  “Unless you know of somewhere better?” Mykal said, hoping he might.

  “There’s nothing. Not around here. Be a while before we see anything habitable,” he said. “Actually, I don’t think we’ll find much of anything until we reach the pass.”

  “It’s what Wyn said.” Mykal sighed. “Then yes, we’re stopping here for the night.”

  “Sleep in shifts?” Quill said. “I’ll feed the horses, brush them down and take first watch.”

  Anthony jumped off his horse. “Thank you, boss. But I can give you a hand with the horses before I try and sleep.”

  Mykal shook his head. He didn’t trust these guys when awake. There was no chance he’d sleep a wink with them on guard. It didn’t matter if Quill was his uncle, or not. The only two he trusted were Blodwyn, and Karyn. Three and three. “You sleep. I’ll take first.”

  “Want us to take care of the horses first?” Quill said. “There’s a stream just ahead for water.”

  Mykal didn’t mind taking care of the horses. Four of them were his. “I’ve got it. You guys get some rest.”

  It wasn’t long before the others fell asleep, which didn’t surprise Mykal. It had been a long and arduous day, to say the least. Blodwyn’s snores rumbled worse than the skies during a storm. This proved just how exhausted everyone was, because no one should be able to sleep with that man’s heavy breathing.

  Galatia motioned for Mykal to follow her. She walked away from the makeshift campsite, Mykal on her heels.

  “You should still be sleeping; my watch isn’t over. Blodwyn is next, anyway,” Mykal said.

  “I can’t sleep. I thought this might be a good time for a lesson,” she said.

  “The middle of the night?” He would disagree, if he weren’t so bored. “What have you got in mind?”

  “Basics.”

  He held out his hands thinking about the electric charge that shot from his fingertips. That didn’t seem basic.

  “I’m not sure how you did what you did,” Galatia said as if reading his mind.

  “I watched you?”

  She shook her head. “It’s not that simple. You don’t know the words that go with that power. You have to call on the magic.”

  “I didn’t say anything. I just thought it, I imagined it. It was like a part of me thought, ‘hey, if you really are a wizard like Galatia, then zap them.’”

  “You just thought that?”

  “Almost word for word.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I want to try something. Hold out the palm of your hand. Now, imagine a small ball of fire. Picture something the size of an apple.”

  Mykal laughed.

  “Humor me.”

  “I’ve imagined things before, you know. Like for the fence around the farm to fix itself, or the cows to milk themselves. It’s never made a difference before,” he said, shaking his head.

  “I am what you might call a Tantra Wizard. I need to recite things for them to happen. I also think about what I want to occur, but it is the rhythm of the words, the temp
o that brings forth the power inside of me,” she said.

  “Like when we conjured the red orb?”

  “Exactly.” She motioned with her head toward his. “Try it.”

  Mykal stared at his palm. In his mind’s eye he saw a small ball of flame.

  Nothing happened.

  She said, “Concentrate.”

  He tried, closing his eyes.

  After a moment of nothing, she said, “Keep your eyes open. See where you want the fire.”

  “I’m going to burn myself.”

  “You won’t. The ball of fire should float above your hand. Tell yourself the flames can’t burn you.”

  He snickered.

  “Do it,” she insisted.

  His smile vanished. He focused on his palm. A tingling began in his chest. Vibrated. There was a sudden whoosh, and in his hand he held a ball of fire. The flames were white and blue, and snapped and hissed in his palm.

  The smile, the laugh, returned. “Look at that!”

  She lightly clapped her hands. “Very good!”

  “What do I do with it?” Mykal looked around, anxious.

  “Throw it.”

  “Throw it?” he said. “I have no idea how to throw this. Do I just. . .”

  Mykal hesitantly gripped the fire as if it were a small ball, expecting the heat and flames to blister his skin. When it didn’t, he drew back his arm and threw the flame forward. The ball flew fast, and went far.

  “Now wish it away.”

  He blinked, and the fireball was gone. It had simply vanished.

  Knowing he was giggling like a child, he ran his palms down the front of his pants. “That was something else. I mean, I can’t believe I did that, that I can do these things.”

  “There are other forms of the craft, each slightly unique from the rest. But you, your magic is something I’ve never witnessed before,” she said. “We call this kind of sorcery Natural. You are a Natural Wizard.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “When you wished the fence fixed, or the cows milked, it would have happened. If you’d believed it would. Those were just flippant wishes. Lazy hopes. It’s why you’ve not called on your power before. You didn’t believe in magic. You didn’t know you were a sorcerer. That has all changed now. I suspect the lessons I thought I was going to have to give you, will all be useless. The things you can do might be near limitless.”