by B. A. Scott
“Fahren!” a voice sounded behind him. Fahren turned to see his devoted servant, Falysia, removing her mask. She was flanked by two soldiers. “I thought you’d been killed for sure,” said Falysia.
“I feared the same for you,” Fahren said, rushing to embrace her.
“I rallied what loyalists I could during the ambush,” she told him. We’ve been in hiding.”
“Ambush?”
“I’ll tell you in a moment. Come, we must hurry. The pool was guarded, but we overtook them. We haven’t much time. Here,” she handed him a mask, a necklace and a dagger.
They dove into the chamber’s entrance, navigating the lava tunnels. When they reached the end, Fahren had to ascend between the bodies of fallen soldiers. He emerged quietly, his head rising slowly from the lava, searching for adversaries. But there were none. They exited the pool and donned cloaks Falysia laid in preparation.
“Where is everyone?” Daro asked. “I expected more.”
“Not now,” Falysia said. She hastened everyone from the room, then secreted them to a hidden passage in the palace walls.
“Falysia,” said Fahren, “tell me what happened!”
“Embros was methodical. Swift and synchronized,” Falysia said, leading Fahren swiftly through the passageway. “He coordinated a mass protest against himself, through spies among the loyalists. ‘Now is the time,’ they proclaimed. Those devoted to you in the army left their ranks to participate. When the marching began—the rioting—Embros’s army was already prepared. There was such a fight, Incinian against Incinian.”
“How many were lost?” Fahren asked.
“Many,” said Falysia, sadly. “But most survived. They’re being held captive. Those loyal to you are in the square, civilians and soldiers alike—a mass execution, unless they pledge allegiance to Embros. I knew it would be my best chance to rescue you, while all eyes are turned to the massacre.”
“How did you survive?” Fahren asked.
“You taught me the secrets of the Obsidian Palace better than Embros taught his guards,” Falysia spoke assuredly, drawing Fahren’s attention to their current location.”
“And what of the Gauntlet?”
“Embros has sent a large force of his finest soldiers to the Adorcenn Tower. They’re transporting the Gauntlet, and will inform Daro of the ambassador’s plans. And of his own daughter’s involvement.”
“We may be able to intercept the Gauntlet before it gets to Daro,” said Fahren, “if we can catch them up.” He stopped in his tracks. “This tunnel leads beyond the Palace walls,” he recalled, recognizing the path ahead. To his left, another ended at the square, where his loyalists would soon be slain. “But this one, to the square. We can’t leave them, Falysia.”
“We must!” she told him. “I’ll not see you die this day. Do you know what it took to get you this far?”
Fahren took the path toward the square, Falysia and the soldiers protesting immediately.
“Fahren, we have to leave while everyone’s distracted!” she said.
“Not without my people,” Fahren said. He stopped at the path’s end, and pulled his hood to cover his face. He pressed the wall gently. It swung open, creaking as they spilled into an empty corridor. Embros’s booming voice echoed through the hall, and Fahren led the others promptly, yet inconspicuously to the square.
When they reached it, Fahren was sure he had never seen it so filled. His loyalists knelt like thousands in worship at one of the great Goddess temples. And around them stood enough of Embros’s army to maintain them. Citizens watched from every level as Embros spoke.
“I have locked the Sage away until his death,” he declared. “My own son. Your Prince. This is the measure I have gone to to protect you! To keep Kallenshar safe.” He looked to his opposition. “And these… insurgents would rather test the resolve of Daro Alakai than receive his sanction. They would rather our realm fall under attack than protect their loved ones, their friends and neighbors. They would—”
“They would rather die than live as slaves!” Fahren burst from concealment, revealing his face. At once, all the guards around him readied their spears. “Under the threat of Lord Daro,” Fahren continued to press his way through the ranks. “A man who bullied you to bended knee. You’re in league with the greatest evil this world has ever known. And these men and women would not be part of it.”
“Oh shit,” Falysia uttered, knowing they would surely die in moments.
Chapter 21: Enchantment
“I am Fahren!” the Sage’s eyes burst aglow. “Son of Embros, your Sage. I and those who would be free of this tyranny will leave this city untouched, or by the Creator, I will destroy every last one of you—you, who have strayed so far from your honor! But you are not yet so far gone as to have lost it. Now, Father, release my people.”
All was quiet, and not a soul dared to breathe.
“I have told Lord Daro that our armies will not partake in this war,” Embros spoke. “Fahren, if you leave with these people—if you openly oppose him, how can we trust he’ll hold his end of the bargain? Unless we stand united and not take action, our people—your people, Fahren, will not be safe.”
“A man threatens you and you cower before him?” Fahren asked. “And deliver to him the Gauntlet of Wrath? Father?”
The crowed stirred in disbelief.
“A wise man knows a fight he cannot win,” Embros said. “And a King protects his people at all costs. But you, I cannot protect you any longer. I should order every fireborne here to take up arms and strike you down. Thousands, you will take with you to the Afterworld—a necessary sacrifice for the future generations of Kallenshar.” He paused, deciding whether or not to give the order.
“If you give that command, I will not hesitate as I did in the chamber. Not for them. Not for you. You’ve ordered Kallenshar to bow to an Erygian’s will. An Erygian! I would rather it be razed to the ground!”
Fahren’s voice thundered throughout the square.
“Surrender these few,” he continued. “Or upon my word, you and all your allegiants, will die.”
Embros looked out over the crowd, grievously deciding their fate.
“Our Sage,” he spoke cynically. “He endangers this nation with his actions. Then threatens us when we seek to preserve our way of life.” He looked to Fahren. “Take your fools,” he said. “Lead your rabble. And risk Daro’s Wrath upon us all.”
Fahren’s intense eyes never left Embros. “Come, my people,” he commanded, and his loyalists nervously rose to their feet, wary of their captors. The guards parted for them, and they started for the grand city gates.
“Choose to leave,” Embros tried one last time to retain Fahren’s followers, “and you have surely chosen death. Stay, and your loyalty will be commended.”
The words affected some, for a good number remained behind as the multitudes of loyalists followed Fahren. When he reached the open gates, he turned and looked to his father. He expected to see anger in his eyes, but all he saw was sadness.
Embros called an officer to his side.
“Inform Daro at once,” he said. “Send a messenger to catch up with the transport.”
Fahren left the city, leading thousands. And when the last had passed beyond the gates, the grand doors closed behind them.
“Where do we go?” Falysia asked. “You mentioned intercepting the Gauntlet of Wrath, but we have no emberwolves to gain ground and track them—or weapons for that matter.”
Fahren cursed, abandoning hope of reclaiming the furentus. “We make for Skaelwood, like the ambassador told us,” he said. “It was always the plan.”
* * * * *
Kaven stared furiously at the hovering plank of wood in front of him. He sat, exhausted, but wild-eyed. He knew it would be best if he stopped for a while and tried to sleep, but his mind would not let him rest. Around him, several other boards floated at various heights, each a work in progress or failed attempt.
Kade and Faelia watched h
im from the wheel, aside Captain Cyver. The sun was beginning to set.
“He’s obsessed,” Faelia told Kade.
“He’s lost a lot to Daro’s demons,” Kade said. “He lost his wife. Not to Fated, but it fuels him, I know.”
“And you’ve been helping him. Do you really think he can succeed? Or at least that he’s on to something? He’s only sipped from two Fountains. To achieve what he’s attempting, I’d think he’d need to be a more powerful wielder.”
“I’m entirely certain Gale will need to be incorporated somehow, as he wants this creation of his to move through the air. I’ve aided him by providing it. But there’s a simplicity about his approach that relies solely on fundamental magic—it’s not what I’ve recommended. As to whether or not I think he can actually succeed,” Kade paused and looked thoughtfully to Kaven, “he was a craftsman, you know? Before all this. He owned a shop. He made baskets, carvings, pottery. He understands how things are made. He just needs to learn a new set of tools for this one.”
“He looks borderline mad,” said Faelia. “Let’s check on him, shall we?”
They made their way down to the deck and knelt beside him.
Faelia instantly regarded the numerous floating boards around them.
“Seriously?” she said.
“Any luck?” Kade asked.
“It’s nice to build something again,” Kaven said. “But I can’t get a grasp on it. Look. Wait, move back a bit.” He lightly touched the floating board in front of him, and it spun violently, then slowed to a stop. “That’s not what I wanted to happen.”
“Perhaps you should rest,” Kade suggested.
“Is there anything else you can tell me about hover charms?” Kaven asked. “Anything?”
“I’ve taught you everything I know about them,” Kade said. “There’s plenty more in the great libraries. But they’re quite far from us at the moment. I’ve told you before, but I think you’re going to need Gale—or water from the Fountain that grants it—the Fountain of Parsali. If you want to make something you can ride on the wind, it needs to be able to manipulate the air around it.”
“I see your point,” Kaven said. “But levitations and hover charms have nothing to do with the wind, and they work just fine on their own. Even so, I’m open to suggestions. I’ve been thinking, we keep using Gale last—like a shell around my hover charms. Maybe it needs to be inside the board, not around it. And the first treatment, not the last.”
“Different layerings of magic create different results,” Kade said, nodding, pondering the possibilities.
“Can we try this next one that way?” Kaven asked.
“Of course,” said Kade.
Together, Kaven and Kade strategized, then poured their magic into a new plank of wood. Kade provided Gale, while Kaven placed fixed and reactionary hover charms around her magic. As they combined their efforts, Kaven felt very strangely toward Kade. He realized his mistrust of her was gone and that he actually enjoyed her involvement.
“I’ve made this Gale from emotions of control,” Kade told him. “Like directing a dog on a leash.”
Kaven stood, and held his boot just above the floating board. The moment his toe touched it, the plank bolted out to sea, as though it had been shot from a spear-bow. Everyone jumped back from it, and fell flat on the deck.
“Blasted beans!” Faelia yelled.
“That—could have gone better,” Kaven said.
“That could have killed one of us!” said Faelia. “And how many of my scraps do you intend to waste?”
“Sorry,” said Kaven. “I’ll pay for ‘em.”
Kade suppressed a laugh.
“You’re stopping this,” Faelia told him. “At least for a while. Look at you, you haven’t slept at all.”
“We can come back to it, Kaven,” Kade said. “It would do you well to let your mind rest.”
“I work best when I get in this sort of intense focus, you know?” Kaven told her. “Even through failure. Back when I had a shop, if I had an idea for a new carving or whatever, working out its details always kept me up at night. It’s when some of my best ideas came. But I think you’re right. Besides, it is getting pretty cold out here, the farther we travel north.”
“I told you,” Faelia said. “Come to my cabin, both of you. I’ll see you fitted with something warm.”
They joined the Borean Sage in her quarters. Kaven noticed the finest map of Adoran he’d ever seen stretched out on a table.
“This is fantastic,” he said. “I’ve never seen such a detailed map of Adoran. You’ve really traveled the whole world, haven’t you?”
“Besides the Megalian Wastelands, yes,” Faelia said.
“You still have a healthy stock of wood for repairs down below,” Kaven continued, “but we could always stop at these islands, couldn’t we? To resupply.” He pointed to a cluster of islands, north of their current location, marked ‘The Centurian Isles.’ “Wait,” he said. “The Centurian Isles. Where have I heard that before?”
“We’ll stay the hell away from that place, ambassador,” said Faelia. “The Centurian Isles are home to something only a few have lived to tell of.”
“And what’s that?”
“A Zelvanyan,” Faelia said. “Harcos—the Guardian. Ships don’t survive passing near it.”
“A Zelvanyan,” Kaven thought. “One of those things left over from the old world? What kind of creature is it?”
“I don’t know,” said Faelia. “And I don’t intend to find out.” She presented two Borean cloaks of the darkest blue, trimmed in silver.
“Here,” she said. “You were probably expecting heaps of fur, weren’t you? But these were made from the skin of the ice deer. Flexible, but resilient. They will protect you from the cold. And yet there’s more to these than you realize. They are contentment cloaks.”
“Faelia, you’re too generous!” Kade said.
“Sorry, what’s a contentment cloak?” Kaven asked.
“It will maintain your desired temperature,” Faelia told him. “In the bitter cold, in the sweltering heat, you’ll feel perfectly content.”
“Only wielders who’ve sipped from the Fountain of Phorian Mai can make them,” Kade said. “This is a perfect example of what I’ve been trying to tell you, Kaven. These are imbued with the power of Suspension. Just as your boards need to utilize Gale.”
“And I keep telling you, it’s not about the wind,” Kaven said.
“Thank you, Faelia,” Kade said. “These are truly magnificent gifts.”
Kaven donned his new cloak, and instantly felt the bite of cold leave his skin.
“Now that’s bloody marvelous,” he exclaimed, wondering how such a wondrous thing had been created with magic. “Who figured out how to make these?”
“I believe it was Paragon, the eighth Borean Sage,” Faelia answered. “A simple enchantment in hindsight. She willed the power of Suspension to react to the cloak’s wearer—what he or she deemed a comfortable temperature.”
“React?” the word drew Kaven’s attention. “She willed it? Made it do what she wanted? That’s what I’m trying to do. With hover charms.”
“But your charms are opposing each other,” Kade said.
“Well maybe that’s what I’ve been missing,” Kaven told her.
“How’s that?”
“I’ve only been working with ruddy hover charms. Maybe I need a proper enchantment.”
“Well, technically, imbuing objects with hover charms is considered an enchantment,” Kade said.
“Oh, well, you know what I mean. I want it to do… what I want it to do. Like the contentment cloak. If I could understand how it works. How to build it with the right parts. I just need to know more about magic. How does it work, down to the detail?”
“You want me to provide an explanation for magic? Kaven, magic is magic, because it is inexplicable. Its essence defies natural laws without explanation.”
“But there must be an explanation,”
Kaven reasoned. “Everything works for a reason. The world and everything in it is built on principles.”
“It makes sense in our minds. But if you’re looking for something more, this is as much as I’ll ever be able to tell you. Summon that goblet upon the table to your hand.”
Kaven looked confused, then did as he was instructed.
“Every object has an essence, Kaven,” said Kade. “A man. A woman. A worm. A basket. Even the wind. This essence resides within, but should the object be altered, its essence can transform.”
“I don’t understand,” Kaven said.
“Burn a branch and it will turn to ash and flames and heat,” said Kade. “An essence cannot be seen. Much like a soul. But the amazing thing is that essences can communicate with each other. And affect one another. Does a chilling breeze not make your teeth chatter? Does water not nourish a thirsty seed?
Now, normal people can affect objects on a physical level.” She took the goblet from Kaven, set it on the floor, and knocked it over with her hand. “But what sets Sages and Enchanters apart from them—the answer to your question—is that those blessed with magical abilities can operate on the plane of essences. Beyond the physical, yet within it.”
Kaven nodded, though he didn’t fully understand what Kade meant.
“Summon the goblet to your hand once more,” she said, and Kaven humored her request. “You can move that goblet with your mind, because you can grasp its essence with yours and bring it to you—bending it to your will.”
“I get it,” Kaven said. “But that just brings about more questions. How do essences interact? What does it look like when they do? What are the limitations?”
“You’re quite the scholar,” Faelia told him.
“I only want to understand,” Kaven said.
“Some would say magic isn’t meant to be understood,” said Kade. “And should you ever manage it, its complexities and inner workings would be so intricate and unfathomable that it would drive you to madness.”
“I’m not going to go mad trying to dissect a hover charm, Kade. Gabrel’s the type to not ask questions. His magic does what he wants it to, and that’s enough for him. No bother how it works, just as long as it does. But not me.”