“Is that it?” Joven asked.
The young mage shrugged, sketching the pattern of markings across the stone below. He had to be careful, the frozen ice made discerning fine details difficult, and he had to double check his work. “It could be. Or it could be a memorial marker or something.”
He stood up, and rolled the slightly damp and very cold parchment up, slipping it into his bag. He tugged on Joven's arm as he went to leave. Several other farmers were now gathered at the edge of the ice and were glaring at the two of them as they had worked. Joven nodded grimly. “I think we should give the farmers their water back.” Joven muttered as he and Endrance made their way back to the shore.
The wizard smiled at the farmers, who stepped away from him fearfully. Joven glared at the few who held farming implements that could be used as weapons. The young mage then turned his back on the men, raised his hands, and closed his eyes, reaching out with his senses towards the ice.
Endrance could feel the strands of magic from his spell lingering in the water. Magic that was still active always had a connection to the caster, until either the spell or the caster expired. If it was in the nature of the spell, it could continue on after the mage's death, but usually effects brought out by the caster only lasted while their will existed to keep the magic coherent. Certain spells could have power invested in them and left alone, running until their power was exhausted.
Endrance reached out with his will, feeling along the line that connected him to the spell. Through it he could learn many things about the spell that he would not have known from reading the book. The most important thing was that the ice would remain in the current atmosphere for around two months before the energy invested in freezing the ice had run out, allowing it to thaw as normal. The high altitude of the mountain kingdom and the continuously cold climate would make sure that it needed very little of its energy to stay frozen.
He extended a hand towards the water, grasping the thread of his spell with his will and body. He focused and then willed the spell broken, using an equal amount of energy to counteract the spell’s energy. He realized later that he perhaps could have canceled the spell in a less dramatic fashion, but at the time he had already committed. The ice suddenly seemed to vaporize as a great volume of mist erupted from the surface of the ice. As the mist cleared the farmers could see the water below rippling gently, thawed. Normally the water would still have been frozen, but the act of countering the energies of a spell caused it to thaw. Since Endrance used the same amount of energy canceling the spell as was used to create it, the spell was effectively negated and the water restored to its normal state. Maybe a little bit warmer, Endrance thought. I forgot that the spell had already expended some of its energy, so I may have put just a bit too much into the counter spell.
Yes you did. Gullin remarked. It took more power to freeze the water than maintain it. And since it would naturally thaw you wouldn’t need to use exactly the same amount.
Endrance and Joven left without saying a word, and the farmers whispered amongst each other superstitiously as they departed. One of them stuck a finger in the water and nearly fell over when he found out the water was actually warm. As the wizard and his bodyguard left, Endrance caught a glimpse of some of the older men stripping off their shirts as they waded into the reservoir.
***
The translating stage of his work proved to be more difficult, as he had to keep going back to the books and re-translating certain symbols as he found many of his current translations made no sense in any grouping. The script around the circular stone was uniformly spaced and had no punctuation, so he was uncertain where to begin or end the translation. He brushed his hair away from his face, frustrated as he went back to the books for the fourth time that hour. The Draugnoa eventually drifted off, having their chores and duties to perform as he worked on a one-person task. His familiar dozed perched on the hot metal roof of the oil lantern he was using for light.
He never noticed the newly replaced door sliding open, nor did he hear the faint creak of the hinge as it closed again. Endrance sighed noisily as he scribbled on yet another piece of parchment as he struggled through the ancient words. He did however, notice the flicker of one of his candles as a faint draft of wind caused it to dance on its wick. He glanced behind him, hoping to see Selene, but saw no one neither standing behind him nor sitting in one of the few other pieces of furniture around his library. Shrugging, Endrance turned back to his parchments. “It's gotten late, I really should check to see what time it is,” he muttered, turning the parchment over. He spotted the symbol he needed and replied to himself “...after I get this phrase finished.”
A dark figure slowly and deliberately descended from the ceiling, releasing its grip on the rafters above once its feet had silently touched down onto the earthen floor. The intruder watched her young prey go about his business unawares. She waited for one, two, three heartbeats, relishing the fact that she could move on to the next stage of her contract. She slipped a thin wire from a blackened metal loop about her wrist, and with great care she padded up to the chair Endrance sat in, spreading the length of wire between her hands, using black metal caps on her thumbs to safely handle the weapon.
Outside, Joven approached the longhouse. He had the evening off, but wanted to see if he could get Endrance to join him for some drinks at his favorite watering hole. The barbarian had spent months travelling with the young man, but never had the chance to see if he could hold his liquor. It would be an amusing prospect and the drinks might put a few hairs on his chest. Gods knew he needed them.
His grin faded swiftly as he noticed no men on duty outside the longhouse. He was sure the men were still supposed to be on guard, the people had still expressed unease about the Spengur’s presence, and Balen had insisted the guards stay until the eclipse had passed. There was no one there. More men shirking on their duties Joven would have to discipline personally.
He growled angrily, approaching the doors. Immediately he noticed spatters of blood on the ground, sending him into full alertness. He slammed into the double doors leading into the central room of the longhouse, blowing them both open. They hadn’t even been locked. The fires in the corner braziers were out, casting the room in a dimness that made it hard to see clearly in.
A faint purple mist layered the ground throughout the main room, and two white dressed forms slumped across the floor. Joven slapped a hand over his mouth, holding his breath as he thundered across the floor and banked left through the open door to the hall leading to the Spengur’s library. He had to leap over yet another form he hoped was only unconscious as he barreled at the door at the end of the hall.
Endrance had barely looked up at the crashing sound coming from outside. He was busy with his work and he dismissed it as unimportant. Gullin however, had awoken and saw the sha’hdi lurking right behind the mage.
Endrance! Behind you!
She lunged forwards and her lethal wire found its mark.
Joven burst through the door as Endrance jumped in his seat, his fingers scrabbling at his neck in panic. Joven removed his hand from his mouth as he shouted in rage just as the woman gave her wire a sharp yank. Endrance's eyes widened in pain as crimson welled out from a line across his throat, and his body jerked involuntarily. Scarlet sprayed the books before him as his lifeblood escaped him, and wordlessly he collapsed forwards, his head falling onto bloody parchments. Gullin went into a panic, fluttering about and cawing angrily.
The woman smirked at the barbarian at the door as she simultaneously stepped back from the garroted mage and snapped her hand, causing the razor wire to retract back into the ring on her wrist with a snick. Joven charged, raising his ax. The assassin laughed mockingly as she gracefully skipped back out of the barbarian's swing. She danced about him as he swung again, just barely missing her and demolishing a bookshelf instead.
“Silly human!” she laughed as she moved around him, avoiding his blows with practiced ease. “You can't hit
the sha’hdi so easily!” she laughed again as she faded just out of the ax’s surely fatal blow. “You came a hundred years too early to take me on!”
Endrance was in darkness, he could feel his life blood flowing out of him. If only he could speak well enough to cast the healing spell he had devised.
Gullin! He ordered, trying to get the bird to snap out of his panic. Listen to me!
The bird responded but kept fluttering around. What do want me to do?
Can you help me cast the healing spell from before? He asked, finding it harder to concentrate, even though only a second or two had passed.
Form it in your mind, and I will do the rest. The familiar instructed, landing on his head and leaning over the crimson pool of his blood. Hurry.
The assassin performed a backwards aerial as she evaded Joven's furious strike and landed just inside the door leading out of the library. “Maybe you should have paid better attention to your charge, barbarian.” she taunted Joven as she slid back into the doorway. “Then you might have had the honor of dying before he-”
She was interrupted as something shot past her face, barely a finger's width from her nose to embed into the door hanging open beside her. Only years of practice saved her from flinching and as it passed by; her reflexes and experience told her what nearly took her nose off. A curved dagger, its handle and finger guard made from a single intact deer's antler. The blade sunk an inch into the solid wooden door, its handle quivering at the impact.
Her gaze slid to her left, towards the direction it came from. She looked towards the desk where her target had been eliminated. To her target she'd thought dead, who was standing next to his desk, his arm at the completion of a throw, and a scarlet stain down his neck and the front of his robes, as well as his forehead and nose where he had collapsed on the blood sprayed surface. His face was pale, but there was a glint of something dangerous in his eyes. He had a sister to the dagger he threw in his left hand, and though he leaned against the side of the desk, he was in a far better condition than the assassin had thought she had left him in.
The young man couldn't possibly be alive after that much blood loss, much less conscious. The barbarian's presence would make a direct assault to finish the job impossible. Her client had told her that the Spengur was only a man, nothing more. Their information was wrong.
Joven, also shocked at his murdered ally’s revival, renewed his assault, charging after the elf with a battle cry that shook the books in their shelves. She snapped her attention back to him, rolling back into the hallway and dashing for the window at the end. Joven burst into the hall already having turned to chase her, his shoulder slamming into the wall and cracking the wood. The elf leapt, her hand flashing out in an arc. The wooden shutters exploded outwards, and she neatly dove through the opening.
Joven crashed into the windowsill, his thighs slamming into the table there and crushing it against the wall. He looked out, but could no longer see the elf. She must have disappeared into the shadows. He grabbed the shutters roughly and slammed them closed, bolting them in place again before rushing back to the library to check on his charge.
The young mage lay half across the floor, half up against the wall next to the desk. His chest rose and fell faintly, and there was a gurgling sound that told Joven he was at least breathing. Gullin hopped back and forth on the table overlooking the mage in worry. He knelt before the wizard, and felt a moment of panic. His experience as a warrior told him that a neck wound like that should have killed him already, and even if treated right away there's nothing someone could do to save the victim. The injury was also exactly the same kind that had killed the tribunal before. How long had the assassin been trailing them?
“Endrance, no...” he croaked, his throat tightening around his voice as grief shot through him. He reached out with a gauntleted hand to brush the young man's hair from his face as he watched the mage's weak breathing. “Why wasn't I there?” he asked. “I could have saved you!” he covered his face with his other hand in shame.
Endrance's head tilted up marginally, and his lips moved slightly. “That's what I want to know.” he whispered hoarsely.
Joven blinked. “Endrance? You're awake! Gods!” he placed his hand gently on the young man's shoulder as the wizard opened his eyes and looked at him blearily. “You're alive! By the gods!” the barbarian exclaimed, surprise and joy on his voice. The mage bobbed his head slightly, wincing.
“Yep. Still alive.” he whispered.
“I need to get you help!” he exclaimed.
Endrance grabbed his arm before the man could leave. “No.” He said. “Don’t go. They’ll know.”
“So?” Joven exclaimed angrily.
“If the people find out about this it would shake their confidence in me. And we both know who it was that attacked me.”
“But you’re injured!”
“I have a healing spell,” Endrance whispered. “That was how I survived this. A little more of it and I should be safe enough.”
Joven nodded. “What can I do to help you recover?” he asked, kneeling before him. Endrance smiled weakly at his bodyguard, as he pushed off his knees with his hands to stand. Joven stood as well, reaching out to steady the wizard as he wobbled.
“Let’s get me something to eat.” Endrance whispered.
The two of them walked out of the library, slowly as Endrance got his legs back under his own control. He looked back at the blood spattered desk and books. “Are my Draugnoa okay?” he asked, his query carrying as much concern as was physically possible in a whisper. “Is Selene okay?”
Joven looked down the hall, to see one of the Draugnoa stirring as the mist dissipated. “Yeah, they got knocked out with some kind of gas. They should be okay in a little while.”
Endrance smiled faintly. “All right.” he chuckled weakly as he wobbled down the hall, constantly forcing Joven to adjust the young man's angle so that he remained upright. “Oh man,” he whispered.
“What?” Joven demanded.
“They are going to go crazy when they see the mess in the library.” he responded.
Chapter 30
The interior of the entrance to the Tomb of Rothel was lightless and slightly damp. The faint drip drip drip of water echoed as it leaked through the circular entrance to the tomb. The walls were continuously damp from the water above. A small amount of the water pooled at a small depression in the entrance chamber before dribbling across a seam in the stones and down the steps into the tomb proper. It seemed to disappear somewhere along the line, but even so the stonework was very slick.
The air was stale, dank, and musty. The sounds of water moving above the tomb were muffled by several feet of earth and stone. Slowly the water above gurgled against the circular capstone that sealed the tomb away from the world, as if the whole place was afloat at sea. The continual dribble of water did little to prevent a buildup of moss and fungus in the entry chambers of the tomb. The smell of algae lurked in the pungent, stale air.
The reservoir above was dark as well; the deep cloudy night above it had dulled the water's mirror sheen to a surfaceless depth unnoticeable except to those who were carrying light. Endrance stood at the edge of the reservoir at almost the exact same spot he had stood before, except this time he was flanked on his right side by three women and the other by his personal bodyguard Joven. The collective group of them wore a cloak of thick fur to help shield them from the icy wind that poured down the mountainside from the snowy peak several hundred meters above even the eighth bowl of Balator. Gullin sat quietly perched on Endrance’s shoulder, seemingly asleep.
Endrance glanced at Anna, Bridget, and Selene. They looked about themselves one last time, and finding no one near, nodded back at him one at a time. He looked to his left at Joven, who nodded and muttered. “Do it.”
The young mage rubbed his neck before beginning. It had been three days since the almost successful assassination attempt and even though his wounds had healed and he had recovered his stren
gth he still occasionally felt a twinge where his attacker's near-fatal garrote had struck. A very faint thin hairline scar ran across his neck, nearly invisible unless he was to call attention to it and point it out. He had to take great care with his voice until the wound had fully healed, or else he risked undoing the tenuous healing to his vocal cords. As it was, he has had to speak only in whispers and was not up to the task of casting spells at full power until today.
He adjusted the silk gloves on his hands. He wore heavier silk clothing when he was out at night, as well as one addition: a shirt made of very finely wrought metal links. Lighter than leather armors but still noticeably heavier than regular cloth, it provided more protection than his silk shirt could possibly grant. He wore it at everyone's insistence and the women made sure he wore it at all times except when he was in bed. It was an irritation to wear and felt restricting, but he knew he would rather wear it than have to deal with the four insistent barbarians over the matter.
Endrance went over the spell he had been working on for this specific task. He checked to make sure that all preparations were complete. Finding everything he had set up and ready, he went to work casting the spell. His hands moved about in front of him as he shaped the spell, and his arcane chant gave the magic power. For several minutes he labored over the spell, one of the most carefully worded and precisely designed spells he’d ever even attempted. He devoted half of his aura into the spell, a significant amount for any spellcaster.
He reached out both hands, and gathered energy between his hands, fingers clawed around a rapidly spinning ball of golden colored wind. He struggled to hold the winds in as he neared the completion of his spell. He released the formed spell as his arms fully extended, and he spoke the final command word. The golden wind roared from between his fingers. It swept out across the surface of the reservoir, and Endrance sagged as the sudden drain of energy left him light headed. Anna caught him up expertly and he leaned his head against her arm as they stood side by side, his hairline barely reaching her collarbone.
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