by Unknown
Lucus answered with obvious pride in his apprentice. “Sana cast that spell? That is one of my favorites. I use it in the woods to get closer to the animals I am studying. I know it well and it would take little effort to maintain the effects due to my familiarity with it.”
The woodsman held his axe and concentrated. …1…2 Lucus opened his eyes and Slate took a few trial steps, producing no sound. Slate was thankful Rainier remembered it. “Let’s hide in Annarelle’s alcove.”
The sounds of battle diminished below and a scout team ascended the stairs. Darik and Villifor followed shortly behind in a group that contained Magnus, Hedok, Cirata Lorassa, and now Jak. Lattimer led his group of wizards, but they had been spread out amongst the guardsmen to employ the same strategy Jak had previously utilized. Slate, Lucus, and Rainier followed up the main staircase to Brannon’s office after the rear scout had passed by.
Along the way, one or two small skirmishes broke out, but they were over quickly. This was a group very skilled in their profession and they ascended the remaining floors of Brannon’s tower with expedience. Slate expected a battle to begin, so the silence upon their arrival concerned him. Unable to see what was transpiring, Slate made his play. “If you would be so kind, Lucus…”
The wizard knelt and concentrated. …1…2…3…4 Lucus and Rainier disappeared. Slate looked down at his arm and saw the floor beneath it. Reaching out and feeling with his hands, Slate located the incapacitated woodsman crumpled on the stairs. He picked Lucus up and slung him over his shoulder. “I have Lucus. Let’s get inside Brannon’s office unnoticed.”
Slate ran up the stairs with silent feet, bumping into Rainier occasionally since neither really knew where the other was at any given time. They passed the rear scout and reached the top floor of Brannon’s tower, where an unexpected scene lay before them. The massive catalpa doors to Brannon’s office opened invitingly. The soldiers and Bellator Guardsmen spread out along the walls of the office. Inside Brannon waited with smug confidence, scepter in hand, glowing brightly. At his side was the Sicarius headmaster. Slate’s stomach knotted in disgust at the betrayal of someone he had fully trusted.
“Brannon Regallo, you are accused of being a traitor to the crown and orchestrating the attacks plaguing Malethya. There can be only one resolution for such maleficence.” King Darik spoke with all the authority of his position.
Brannon responded with the confidence of the most powerful wizard in the kingdom. “Don’t speak to me as if I am a child. I have proven my loyalty to you in the Twice-Broken Wars and in all my actions since. Tell me, who is my accuser?” Brannon didn’t wait for a response. “Is it Villifor? He is admittedly a traitor, having fought against you in the Civil War and then doubling his sins by sacrificing his fellow rebels to save his own neck. He has perpetuated the lie ever since the day he assumed the identity of Villifor.”
Slate snuck into the office and hid Lucus beneath Brannon’s monstrosity of a desk. Rainier’s location was lost to Slate.
King Darik responded, “Villifor prevented widespread panic amongst my citizens by concealing the attacks in the north until evidence was obtained. You hid in your tower. Now the evidence points toward you and you stand next to someone who defied my direct orders earlier today.”
The Sicarius headmaster spoke, having an unsettling effect on everyone present. “Your direct orders resulted in the deaths of loyal servants who had given their very identities to serve you, so yes, I defied you. You are acting irrationally. Let us get to the bottom of this.”
Villifor continued the accusations. “Then let’s start with the Regallo estate. You and your co-conspirator, Slate Severance, killed or wounded a number of my Bellator Guardsmen to enter and burn the estate to the ground. What evidence were you hiding from me?” Slate didn’t think the headmaster would honor Villifor’s request, but Darik waited for an answer.
“I broke into Brannon’s personal library and found texts and manuscripts on Blood Magic. I came and talked to Brannon as you are doing now and am convinced he was set up to appear to be the Blood Mage.”
Slate’s head was spinning, but he knew this would happen. He just needed to bide his time and gather information. Hopefully everything would come to a head while Lucus’ spell was still in effect. Thankfully, King Darik’s notoriously short patience worked to Slate’s advantage in this instance.
Darik addressed Brannon. “I broke down Ispirtu’s walls because of a piece of fabric. Now I learn that your personal library contains Blood Magic documents and your only ally spent enough time alone with you to have been subjugated. I have also received testimony from your own son confirming your association with the Blood Magic documents in your library.” Brannon registered Lattimer’s presence with a mixture of confusion and anger. Darik didn’t wait for the Regallo family to settle their differences. He pointed to the Sicarius headmaster and Brannon. “Kill them and their loyalists.”
“Wait!” Brannon pleaded, but the bloodbath began when Magnus carried out the King’s orders with eager anticipation, sending his battle axe through the midsections of two nearby wizards. Their deaths ignited a full battle within the confines of Brannon’s office.
The Sicarius headmaster launched darts at the necks of the attacking guardsmen, never leaving Brannon’s side. That was the safest place in the entire office, as Brannon launched concussive waves that cleared the entire area around him and prevented anyone from coming within striking distance. The Ispirtu wizards outside of Brannon’s care fought fiercely but were overwhelmed by the Bellator Guardsmen. Jak carved through wizards with a cold efficiency bred from training while Magnus, Hedok and Cirata displayed a deadly joy for the task at hand. Lattimer’s wizards launched volleys of fireballs and concussive waves at Brannon, but they dissipated before reaching him or the Sicarius headmaster. Despite Brannon’s teaching that denied the usefulness of defensive magic, he was an expert at its usage. No spells reached him as his scepter grew brighter and flashed with each spell he cast.
Slate still hadn’t joined the fray. He was torn between his distrust of Villifor and his former trust of the Sicarius headmaster. Watching the battle unfold from within Brannon’s sphere of safety, he started to believe Brannon had told the truth. He was using non-lethal spells to keep the soldiers away from him and he hadn’t attacked Darik.
The eyes of the wizards surrounding the office turned red. Any constraint they had displayed in battle left immediately. Wizards who were about to be overwhelmed used every last bit of their energy and converted it to spark. The effects were devastating. One of the wizards turned into the equivalent of an exploding orb, blasting the guardsmen around him at the expense of his life. Brannon cast a concussive wave just as the wizard exploded, funneling the expanding explosion upwards and ripping the roof away in the process. Brannon remained safely in the middle of the room, protected from everything but the snow that descended upon them. He appeared unfazed by the death of one of his wizards or the carnage the wizard had caused in his passing.
Brannon’s lack of emotion at the carnage disturbed Slate. Brannon was too powerful to be taken by the guardsmen, but he didn’t attack the Ispirtu Furies either. Slate knew one thing for certain. Furies had killed his parents. Furies were under the control of the Blood Mage. If Brannon wasn’t attacking the Furies, then he controlled them.
Suddenly Slate saw Rainier appear across the room, his short swords buried in a Fury. He looked down and saw his hand appear before his eyes. He was out of time! Having made up his mind regarding Brannon he jumped toward him while reaching for his staff. The Sicarius headmaster saw Slate appear and launched into the air to intercept him. The headmaster collided with Slate, deflecting his killing blow from Brannon. Slate changed targets to the arm that held the scepter. Slate barely touched Brannon’s outstretched wrist, but with the strength provided by Lattimer’s experiment, the force was enough to shatter the bones. The scepter crashed to the ground.
Slate landed and moved with uncanny speed to pin
the Sicarius headmaster’s arms and prevent the headmaster from reaching any hidden darts or knives. Without the scepter, Brannon’s spells formed more slowly and grew defensive, casting only weak concussive waves toward Lattimer’s wizards to disorient them long enough to retrieve the scepter. Brannon bent down with his good hand to grab the fallen scepter. In that moment, Lattimer stepped forward and formed a fireball twice his size. The heat radiated in Slate’s face like a blast furnace.
Slate, still holding the Sicarius headmaster, jumped to safety behind Brannon’s desk. Lattimer released the fireball, but instead of dissipating like all the others, it found its mark. The strength of Brannon’s defensive spells had come from his scepter, and without it he was overwhelmed. The most powerful wizard in the kingdom and the first Blood Mage in centuries, was immolated where he stood, killed by his own son.
CHPATER TWENTY
ORDER IS RESTORED
With the death of Brannon, the red eyes disappeared from the Ispirtu wizards and their relentless casting of spells ceased. Guardsmen detained the fatigued wizards without further bloodshed, aided by their disorientation as the spell ceased and their minds reeled from the return of their senses. The Sicarius headmaster slumped in Slate’s arms, but he knew enough of the dangers regarding the headmaster to relax his grip. Villifor pointed toward him. “Detain the Sicarius headmaster and Slate Severance.”
Darik trumped Villifor’s command. “Detain the headmaster. Slate, come here.”
Magnus took the headmaster from Slate rather forcefully. He was eager to make amends for the headmaster’s earlier escape. Cirata Lorassa encouraged compliance by holding a knife against the headmaster’s throat.
Slate followed the King’s orders but took time to help Lucus rise from beneath Brannon’s desk. Through tired eyes, Lucus scanned the room and took in all the information he missed while incapacitated. His eyes lingered longest on the detained Sicarius headmaster, Lattimer, and curiously, Brannon’s scepter.
Slate approached the King and knelt before him as the Sicarius headmaster had earlier that day, hoping the show of respect would inspire leniency for his crimes. “King Darik, I am at your service.”
“I know you are, Slate. Stand up.” The King let his hand fall on Slate’s shoulder. “Your actions here today absolve you of the misdeeds you naively participated in at Sicarius. Brannon is brought to justice because of your intervention. Your crimes are pardoned if you pledge to serve the crown and the people of Malethya.” Slate sighed in relief. He preferred a lifetime of serving the King to a lifetime in prison or a life cut short.
As Slate pledged his service to the king, Lucus bent near Brannon’s body and touched his axe to the still-glowing scepter. The axe grew brighter and brighter, rejuvenating Lucus in the process. The color returned to the kindly woodcutter’s face and he rose, glowing axe and scepter in hand.
Darik turned to Lattimer. “Lattimer Regallo. No son should be forced to face his father in battle. By doing so, you proved your loyalty to me. Your father served me faithfully for many years. Will you continue your training in Ispirtu and do the same?”
Lattimer answered with the innate authority of a Regallo. “I am humbled and honored to serve Malethya.”
Lucus joined the group, despite his lack of invitation from Darik. He held the scepter outward. “Lattimer, this scepter should pass to you. Brannon was once my dear friend, and he spoke of the responsibility required to wield such an enchanted scepter. Regallos have wielded the weapon for generations, with the admirable goal of protecting and serving the citizens of Malethya. I hope you will carry on these missions.”
Lattimer turned toward Lucus and bowed his head in reverence. “Thank you, Lucus. I’m only sorry that my father didn’t use the scepter properly.” He reached out and took hold of the scepter, the glow flickering back and forth as Lattimer learned how to use it. Afterward he turned toward Darik.
“My father had the responsibility of keeping your kingdom safe. Instead he obsessed over the fact that magic is fading in Malethya. You saw the evidence that magic is fading as you broke through Ispirtu’s walls and reached my father in his tallest tower. That wouldn’t have been possible even a generation ago.” Lattimer walked amongst the dead soldiers and Ispirtu defenders as he talked. He reached the group of guardsmen who fought with Magnus. “While credit should be given to the level of training and skill of the Bellator Guardsmen”—Lattimer clasped Hedok on the shoulder and greeted the members of his team—“it should also be seen as a failure of my father to provide the defense that the kingdom needs. Brannon tried to hide this failure by shrouding Ispirtu in secrecy. King Darik, I promise to protect the people of Malethya.”
Lattimer lifted the scepter and the orb swirled with blood.
The soldiers under Hedok’s command fanned out to protect Lattimer. All of Lattimer’s sycophants, the people Slate led into Brannon’s office, joined their Blood Mage at his side. Slate grabbed the King and flashed toward Jak, whose soldiers surrounded Slate and the King. Lucus, Rainier, Tommy, Annarelle, and surprisingly, Villifor, took up positions around Darik. The Sicarius headmaster struggled against Magnus despite the placement of Cirata’s knife but without success.
Lattimer’s voice rose. “I will protect the people of Malethya and bring power back to Ispirtu. The Disenites will come back to Malethya even stronger than when they left. We must be prepared. There is a near limitless source of power that can defend the kingdom upon their return. Without my father to stand in the way, I will defend our shores and bring back the Golden Ages of Cantor.”
Rainier spoke with condemnation. “Blood Magic corrupted the most righteous of men of Cantor’s day. Your twisted intentions will bring nothing but destruction.”
“Malethya is no place for someone to hold ideals. We do what must be done and leave it to the past. I don’t expect a tribesman to understand.” Lattimer cast a concussive wave that threw Rainier into an office wall and left him unconscious in a crumpled heap on the floor. Slate tensed in anger but held his position. Lattimer was protected by too many wizards and Bellator Guardsmen.
“Slate, you should understand the necessity of what I’ve done. You have experienced the power of spark-based magic.” Slate’s mind reeled. What was he talking about? “I cast the spell that created your stonehand.” Why would Lattimer cast a spell that would lead to his defeat in the tournament? “Spark-based magic saved your life in Primean’s laboratory and lets you dart around a room almost as fast as a ball of wizard’s fire can fly. People like Rainier believe spark-based magic is inherently evil, but do you feel different now that you have these abilities?”
“You didn’t want to help me in the tournament…something went wrong…”
“That is true. I trained to be the tournament champion since the day I fully understood the failures of my father. He blindfolded me and sent me to Ibson for teaching in some fractal-forsaken corner of the kingdom. Ibson forced me to sleep outside some tiny shanty in the woods. The only good thing about that fractal-forsaken place was the old texts that mentioned spark-based magic, or as you so crudely call it Blood Magic. When Ibson discovered my interest in the subject, he dismissed me from training. He put me to sleep and I awoke in my bed in Ravinai with all my possessions…and a few of Ibson’s. He didn’t find the texts on spark-based magic I had stowed away in my travel bag. After studying the texts intently, I hid them in my father’s private library. He never noticed because he locked himself in this tower to determine why magic was fading in Malethya. His neglect of our family alienated my mother and drove my sister Rose away. For me to correct his failures to my family and Malethya, I needed to escape his oversight and my inevitable training in Ispirtu. The tournament granted me that opportunity because the tournament champion chooses his guild. It was my only chance to gain independence. In the tournament, I cast a spark-based spell to push the iron in your blood toward your extremities. Without the needed mineral circulating in your blood, you experienced extreme fatigue. Your Perceptor
abilities altered the spell to draw the iron from your blood and the medallion on your arm into your hand where it fused with your bones. Your alteration of the spell drew more spark from me than I anticipated and I was left defenseless to your punch.”
Slate finally understood how his stonehand had formed, but that didn’t reverse the damage caused by Lattimer’s plans. “What about the people you turned into mindless Furies? What about the people of Pillar, Primean, and all the soldiers and wizards who died here today? I would gladly give up the abilities I have gained to bring back those people.”
“Those are the costs necessary to bring forth a new Golden Age to the kingdom. With my father deposed, spark-based spells will usher in a new era of powerful magic where all citizens are cared for and don’t need to fear ships coming to port. You just pledged your life to the service of Malethya. Will you protect them from our enemies? Will you help me rid its people of poverty, hunger, and need? With my father’s scepter, I can accomplish all of that and more…”
“Sacrifices for the greater good need to be given freely…they are not to be taken, young Regallo.” Lucus spoke respectfully, but anger flashed on Lattimer’s face.
Slate didn’t have to think too hard to find an answer. “I will not perpetuate your schemes. I will stop you, Lattimer, even if I have to kill you.”
Lattimer grimaced. “I wanted your services to be employed of your own free will as Lucus suggested, but I will have it either way. Do you remember Primean’s laboratory? I arrived early for our punishment and compelled Primean with the desire to inflict extra pain on you for attacking me in class. Then you suggested the blood staunching experiment and the effects were profound. I hung from the hook next to you and watched your body get cut open in ways a butcher couldn’t imagine, and yet you lived. The more wounds you received, the more spark you drew from Primean. The old wizard drained of life as you saved your own. Even after his desire to end the spell was greater than the compulsion I provided, he couldn’t stop. You wouldn’t let him—you drew the spark from him and held it inside. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed. That was when I knew there was something special about you, Slate. I could have killed you, but instead I gathered some blood from your lacerated body.”