“Sir Kaiden, what I am about to tell you cannot leave this chamber.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “The name Alderlade was the name of the King’s youngest child, a boy who was no more than a few weeks old. It was thought that he had perished during the attack on the royal family and the destruction of the palace three years ago. Very few of the commoners or even nobility knew the child’s name. The birth of a child fifth in line to the crown isn’t normally seen as that important.”
Alira sat stunned; the name she had heard was a real person.
“If the child is real and alive then they are in grave danger!” she cried.
“If that is the case and the child does indeed live then he is the true and rightful heir to the kingdom” Said one of the masters.
“If that is the case then we must inform the Diasect, they must verify if the prince still lives and bring him to safety.” said another. The Grand Master nodded in agreement.
“I agree. We will send word to the Diasect about this and we must discover more about Alira’s vision. Sir Kaiden and Alira will travel to Caldaria and find out what the mages may know of these troubling visions.”
“What of the other name? Luxon was it?”
Kaiden shook his head. “I have never heard of such a person, but whoever they are they must be important.”
***
6.
The high ceiling of the Crystal tower of judgement was spellbinding. Orbs of bright light flitted and flew among the rafters in a rainbow of colours. The balls of magic were said to have been cast by Zahnia himself a thousand years ago as a test of his power. The mage lights had lasted for a millennia attesting to the long dead wizards connection to the power. Others said that the lights were simply created early every morning by the Masters as they warmed up for the day ahead. If it was them, then they kept it a closely guarded secret.
A month had passed before the trial had finally been confirmed by the council of masters. With the war raging in the outside world the masters had been kept exceptionally busy tending to the city’s needs. Remaining a neutral party was proving hard, as each of the claimants were pressing to enlist the power of the mages to their cause.
Luxon stood on a raised platform facing a long crystal table. Sat behind it, grim faced and serious were five of the city’s masters. Each was the leader of their specific school.
To the far right was Master Dufran the head of Illusion. His bald head was tattooed in a plethora of mystical looking patterns; his piercing green eyes regarded Luxon with amused interest.
Sat at his side was Master Fy’odo, the Master of the school of Alteration. His big bushy black beard and raggedy hair virtually hid all of his features; only his small grey eyes could be seen poking through the hair.
On the far left sat Master Enil of the school of healing. He gave Luxon a reassuring smile. For a master, Enil was remarkably young perhaps no older than thirty at the most. His head of red hair mixed strangely with his yellowish eyes.
Luxon nodded to the master thankful to have a potential ally on the judging panel. Hannah had told him that Enil had taken a keen interest in him. When he asked why, Hannah had shrugged her shoulders, but something in her eyes made Luxon curious.
Sat next to Enil was Master Kvar, the master of transmutation. The man had a reputation for being slightly mad and Luxon understood why. Kvar was the skinniest man he had ever seen, the masters robes hung loosely about his body. Under a head of long unkempt white hair Kvar’s eyes were always darting around as though he was looking for something. It was said that transmutation often had a strong impact on the casters mind; after all turning things into something else required a huge mental strain.
The centre seat was empty and reserved for the Grandmaster.
Luxon looked over his shoulder to see Hannah, Yepert and to his surprise master Ri’ges sat in the small gathering of folk who had come to watch the proceedings. Yepert looked petrified but Hannah gave him a reassuring smile.
Luxon twiddled his thumbs nervously. Aside from himself and the masters the hall was filling up with other mages and to his surprise even a couple of Nightblades. His nerves were threatening to get the better of him, he itched to run away, but that thought was immediately quashed as he heard the heavy metal doors to the chamber close with a loud thud. He turned in his seat to see Thanos, the grandmaster stride towards the Masters table.
Thanos looked remarkably young for the title that he held, no older than forty at most but as with all things magic not everything was at it seemed. The Grandmaster was tall and strong with a head of thinning black hair; his serious eyes were a bright blue as though magic flowed through them. Thanos stepped up onto the raised platform and raised his arms to signal that the hearing was about to start. Those in the small crowd stopped their whispering, their eyes all focusing on Luxon and the masters.
Thanos spoke in a clear assertive voice; he pointed a finger at Luxon who shrank back under the grandmaster’s gaze.
“We are gathered here in the tower of judgement to determine whether this student is guilty of committing the serious crime of attempted murder’ the crowd murmured at that, ‘and the crime of uncontrolled use of magic.”
Thanos sat in the centre chair, his hands resting limply on the table’s smooth surface.
“Luxon of Edioz, son of Garrick Edioz and Drusilla Edioz. You have heard the accusations against you. How do you plead?” Thanos asked his tone grave and threatening.
Luxon swallowed, his mouth suddenly felt dry. It took all of his courage to stand and say in a clear voice; “Not guilty my masters.”
Another murmur came from the crowd.
“Very well,’ Thanos bellowed. ‘Bring in the first witness.”
A side door creaked open and in walked Accadus, a smirk on his face. Luxon felt his stomach fall; his enemy had him right where he wanted him.
*
The trial went on for the better part of the day. Accadus greatly exaggerated the incident and basically branded Luxon and Yepert as the bullies and aggressors. The more he had exaggerated the less scared Luxon became. He knew that all of the masters knew of Accadus’s reputation, they would surely never believe him. The other boys who had been injured in the fray also gave their testimony’s, but due to their stupidity neither one of their stories matched up. In one Luxon had used telekinesis to knock them all to the ground, in the other he had muttered a dark incantation.
Luxon was glad the boys had not been allowed to see one another until the trial. They hadn’t had a single opportunity to come up with a lie, ironically though, if they had just told the truth then things would have probably been worse.
Once the boys had given their testimony it was the turn of the defence. Yepert told the truth of what happened, and Master Ri’ges had vouched for them. It hadn’t taken the masters long to pronounce Luxon innocent of the charge of attempted murder.
Thanos stood and addressed the court. “Now, we come to the charge of committing uncontrolled magic use. We would ask that all non essential mages and onlookers leave the court.”
After a few minutes the chamber was empty leaving Luxon all alone to face the Masters. To his surprise all of the masters except for Thanos left as well.
“We have heard some interesting things about you Luxon. Your teacher Master Ri’ges assures us that you are one of the most naturally gifted students he has ever met, that somehow magic comes as naturally to you as eating or drinking.” Thanos spoke.
“Do you know of Zahnia the Great?” Thanos asked.
Luxon nodded his head in the affirmative. “Yes master I do. Everyone has...haven’t they?”
Thanos smiled. The Grandmaster sat casually on the crystal table’s surface his legs just about touching the ground.
“Zahnia was just a boy, no older than you are now before he entered into legend. You see he lived in a time long before Delfinnia even existed as a Kingdom. In his day darkness ruled the world. He was born with a gift so great that he was able to defy the dark
ness and eventually defeat it. With his power he was proclaimed a King, and it was he that founded the Golden Empire. Magic can change the world, both for good and for ill.”
Thanos paused. The grandmaster looked around the room as though he was listening to something. Luxon strained his ears but couldn’t hear a thing. A few moments of uneasy silence passed before Thanos attention once more focused upon the boy before him.
“What you did to those boys is the reason why the ordinary folk fear our kind.” Thanos held up a hand to stop Luxon’s reply.
‘You were lucky none of them we’re killed and that you were smart enough to do what was necessary to stop it.”
Luxon looked at his hands dumbfounded.
“B-but Master I couldn’t control it, the magic just happened.” he said miserably tears threatening to fall from his eyes.
Thanos’s expression softened. The tall wizard walked over to Luxon placing a reassuring hand on the young man’s shoulder.
“In time you will learn to control it Luxon. What you have is a very rare gift, one that only a few possess. You are quite possibly the first true thaumaturgist to have appeared in this world in several generations. It is a gift that enables you to do magic without the need for spells or incantations.”
Luxon raised his head and looked at his master in confusion.
“How...how is that possible?” he asked dumbfounded.
Thanos smiled “The magic within you is like a second skin Luxon. It is a reflex to you just like when you blink or your knee jerks when hit with a healers hammer.
‘To me, and everyone else, magic is something that we must spend decades in near constant practise to bring such power out in us. It is a gift Luxon, one that is both wondrous and terrifying in equal measure.”
Luxon frowned at that. “Terrifying? I don’t like the sound of that.” He muttered. A thought entered his mind. “If magic is like a reflex to me then why has it only come to me like that now?”
The grandmaster sat on the crystal table his legs swinging just above the floor.
“Your life was in danger it is as simple as that. Is it not a reflex to fight or flee when threatened?” Thanos stood once more and began pacing up and down the chamber.
“Your gift is dangerous if not controlled. I emptied the chamber because I did not want your abilities to become common knowledge. Unsavoury folk of all kinds would no doubt attempt to take advantage of your gifts.
‘In that respect I will be taking you on as my apprentice in order to teach you how to control your power. As for Accadus and his oafs they will be expelled from this city and returned to Retbit. Too many times have I had to deal with the consequences of that boy’s misdemeanours.’
Luxon was stunned. He was being left off, and he was going to obtain the rank of apprentice, an apprentice to grandmaster Thanos no less! He didn’t know what to say, instead he smiled.
***
7.
Mountains of Eclin
In the scarce scrub of the mountain pass two rangers watched and waited. Howling winds battered the senses and the blizzard caused a near whiteout. Dressed in their grey robes and cowl they were almost indistinguishable amongst the landscape.
Carlock shifted uncomfortably, his hands tensing and un-tensing on the shaft of his longbow. His silent companion was as still as a statue his grey and hard eyes never leaving the scene unfolding on the plain far below.
“How much longer must we wait Woven? It’s been hours now.” He mumbled to the stern looking older man. Woven glanced at his comrade with an annoyed look on his face.
“We wait until they’ve all passed. Down there is an army of which we have never seen before.” Woven growled.
The two rangers had been dispatched to the mountain regions after reports flooded in of massacres and a terrifying enemy. For days the region of Eclin had been besieged, towns and cities north of the mountains had fallen silent as thousands of refugees fled the horror that was quickly consuming the land.
Baron Lido had ordered his forces to defend and barricade the mountain passes that led to the south and to Delfinnia’s capital and heartlands.
The reports of spectres and monsters had at first been scorned as mere panic induced rumour, but after survivors from the garrisons of the mountain forts collaborated with the testimony of the refugees, panic had truly set in.
Down in the valley a seemingly never-ending column of black armoured figures marched. Their destination, the barricade at Fuio pass.
“They look like men to me,” said Carlock as he shifted slightly.
“Yes… wait look there;’ Whispered Woven. “By Niveren it can’t be.”
There, unbelievably, was a shambling horde of people. At first glance they looked like prisoners of war, men and women. But to Woven’s keen eyes he could see what they truly were. The faint stains of red on the snow around them were the first clue. It was blood. Many were headless, stumbling and staggering as they followed the armoured troops.
Then came the sound. It was the moans and cries of souls in torment emanating from those walking corpses still with heads and throats to emanate the bone chilling sound. They numbered in their thousands.
“All of those people were killed in the towns and villages. Then they were brought back;” Said Woven. Carlock stared in terror, he remembered the horror stories his grandfather used to tell him and his brothers when they were small, sat around the fire on those long cold winter nights of the Dark Mages magic’s and the great war.
“Magic. It has to be. The darkest of all.”
A roar caught the ranger’s attention. Below their hiding spot two rapidly approaching horrors came, snarling beasts with thick fur, razor sharp claws and talons of steel.
“Werewolves!” pointed Carlock.
The creatures were rare, but not unknown in the mountain regions. They were the remnants of the Magic Wars. They were men cursed by the dark mages in battle, and for centuries the beasts had roamed the peaks picking off the unwary traveller.
“They have our scent.” Woven swore and drew his bow. “Let’s move. They could be scouts for that army.” The two rangers quickly clambered down from the overhang and ran through the dense brush. Naked trees with their sharp twigs and limbs tore at their clothes as the two men bounded down the mountainside.
“Hurry!” shouted Woven as his companion stumbled in the snow. The beasts were fast approaching; their panting breaths and snarls drew closer.
Carlock picked himself up and scrambled back onto his feet, almost falling again as the thick snow shifted under his weight. Panicking now, he glanced over his shoulder to see the two wolves closing fast. The beasts’ fearsome muzzles were full of razor sharp fangs and saliva poured from there snarling jaws.
“Down” shouted Woven just as one of the creatures leapt at Carlock’s back, talons extended for the kill.
The creature covered the large distance in a single bound almost taking the elder ranger by surprise. But Woven was a man of the mountains; his entire life had been spent hunting and fighting amongst the frigid peaks.
Instinct was his greatest ally in the often blizzard filled landscape, a place where the senses often failed or deceived. He notched an arrow, drew back the longbows cord and loosed. He shot with hardly taking aim, he never had to. After years of practise and use he shot the bow from reflex.
Carlock turned as the werewolf flew at him. Just as he thought he would surely die Woven’s arrow struck the beast.
With a howl of pain the creature lost its momentum, and crashed to the ground at Carlock’s feet. The arrow had pierced the creature’s thick hide, and its heart.
He spun around as he heard the second wolf snarling. His adrenaline now pumping and buoyed up by his friends kill of the first he drew his own bow.
The remaining Werewolf was more patient and cautious then its deceased companion had been. Slowly it circled the young ranger, its feral eyes never leaving those of the man before it. Despite the cold, sweat poured down Carlock’s face alm
ost blinding him. The monster before him circling; just waiting to strike.
Its fangs looked like knives capable of rending flesh with ease; its coarse thick fur was aglow with ethereal cursed energy. Carlock slowly notched an arrow to his bowstring, he didn’t want to startle the creature into attacking, and that was why he saw Woven moving slowly behind him, a new arrow strung on his great longbow. Delicately he took aim and drew back the cord. His breathing was deafening and his heart pounded like a drum.
The Werewolf snarled and its eyes narrowed, it sensed the ranger was about to attack. With a blur of speed the beast crossed the distance to its prey in a split second. It pounced onto its prey. Carlock hardly had the chance to scream as with lighting speed the monster was upon him.
Woven shot his arrow but this time the point only grazed the wolves flank, bouncing harmlessly off of the beast’s thick hide. Swearing he now drew his silver sword and raced towards the downed figure of his comrade who was desperately struggling to hold the monsters fangs away from his face. He winced as he heard Carlock’s arm snap as the wolf’s jaws clamped around it, he felt pride however that the younger man did not scream out the pain he must surely be feeling. To do so would alert the army still marching through the valley below.
Blood sprayed as a talon raked the ranger’s chest, Woven reached the struggling pair and without hesitation raised his sword high into the air. With a two handed downward thrust he stabbed the werewolf between its shoulders. The tip of the blade ripped through flesh and bone until it burst the monsters heart to rip through its chest and stop just inches from Carlock’s face. Before the wolf could roar out its pain and give away their position Woven drew a dagger from his cloak and deftly sliced the snarling monsters throat cutting off the gurgling scream of pain.
With a kick he rolled the heavy corpse off of his companion only to find Carlock covered in blood and gasping for air. His chest was a mass of cuts where the talons had scratched at it, and his arm was at an impossible angle.
It was then he saw the bite mark on the younger man’s neck and despair filled him. Woven slumped to his knees, the bite of a werewolf meant one thing to anyone who was not eaten or killed outright. The cursed magic in its saliva spread into open wounds passing it onto the victim. Carlock would turn into the very thing the Rangers hunted, a monster of evil.
Heir to the Sundered Crown (The Sundered Crown Saga) Page 5