The Legend of the Seven Sages: The Blade of Origin

by B. A. Scott

Gabrel nodded, then leaned forward until he could feel the Fountain’s misty tendrils upon his face. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, taking its droplets into his lungs.

  His body instantly felt lighter, and his blood raced through his veins like a raging wind. Air seemed to flow from his core, beneath his armor, fluttering his straps, clothing and hair. His eyes opened, aglow with magic, and he exhaled deeply.

  A gust of wind bellowed on his breath, despite the surrounding everfire, and shook the island before fading into stillness.

  Gabrel calmed his newly attained power, and released his magic.

  “The gift of Parsali,” said the Sage, “is yours to command.”

  “Thank you,” Gabrel said, taking deep, calming breaths.

  “And now, to fulfill your primary purpose,” said Saléus. He took Gabrel to the circular stone at the far end of the island.

  “Through here?” Gabrel asked. “Is it a doorway? A portal?” Beyond it, he knew nothing but open sky waited. It had no hinges, no separations—no indication of swinging open or rolling aside. It was simply a massive white stone—lustrous, fifteen feet wide, with magnificent engravings.

  Saléus placed his hand upon a small mark Gabrel would never have noticed otherwise.

  “The symbol of the Goddess, Teréyu,” Saléus told him. “Minkara, you are welcome to join us. I would not deny you an audience with your Maker.” Minkara bowed and copied the Sage’s action. “Put your hand to the stone, Gabrel, and speak her name. Teréyu will decide our admittance.”

  Gabrel reached forward, feeling the cold stone against his palm.

  “Teréyu,” he spoke.

  The wall trembled, but Gabrel dared not retract his hand. The white stone glowed so brightly, he had to shut his eyes and turn his head away.

  Please, Gabrel thought, just before he felt his body pulled forward. He thought he would collide with stone, but instead, a warm sensation engulfed him. He realized quickly that there was no ground beneath his feet. Nor was the wall at his palm. He opened his eyes, and all he saw was light.

  Upon the island, the great stone lost its glow. The Sage, Minkara and Gabrel were nowhere to be seen.

  * * * * *

  It won’t be long now, Hadaan thought as he led his forces toward Skaelwood, riding atop a mighty steed. He heard a raucous discord behind him, and a shifting of ranks.

  Dexius raced his horse through the horde of demons, proud as a conquering hero, as though his presence should fuel their resolve. He reached Hadaan, who looked utterly mortified at his arrival.

  “Dexius?” Hadaan said, halting his advance. The army stopped in their tracks. “What in blazes are you doing here?”

  “Same as you, brother,” Dexius said. “Father changed his mind.”

  “Impossible. You dishonored him. There’s no way he would—”

  “You don’t know him half as well as you think you do,” Dexius interrupted. “We made our peace, and he gave me this.” He showed Hadaan the Alluvian Amulet around his neck. The Amulet of Oblivion, which he also wore, remained safely hidden—tucked well beneath his armor.

  Hadaan looked to his brother suspiciously, questioning every word he spoke.

  “He let me come under one condition,” Dexius continued. “That I follow your orders without question.”

  “Our strategy is well planned,” Hadaan said. “Should you disrupt it, all our preparation will have been wasted.”

  “I am here to prove to Father that his trust is not misplaced.”

  Hadaan knew his brother’s nature. Obedience and submission were not among his prominent traits. Dexius was devious and unpredictable. The lowliest Primen warrior would be more reliable in battle. But, he thought, if Father has sanctioned this intrusion, then so shall I.

  “I know you are eager, brother,” Hadaan said. “Even to lead an army of your own. If you can, indeed, obey what I command, then I will vouch for your honor when we return.”

  Dexius expressed his gratitude with a cocked, satisfied bow.

  Hadaan kicked his horse forward, and the army marched once more. Dexius, inflated by the success of his deception, rode haughtily alongside him.

  “So, dear brother,” Dexius spoke with a devilish charm. “What’s the plan?”

  * * * * *

  Wind rocked the Agile, and the ocean surged, announcing an oncoming storm.

  Kaven nearly toppled over as he continued to perfect his wind rider, having already implemented many improvements.

  “It’s better,” he told Kade and Faelia as a light rain began to wet the deck. “And I used the bonding spell you taught me to secure the new footing. I’m gonna take it up again.”

  “No you’re not!” Faelia snapped. “A storm’s approaching from the north. Nasty one, by the looks of it.” She pointed beyond the ship to a mass of ominous clouds.

  “I’ll make it quick,” said Kaven.

  “Kade, will you please talk some sense into him?” Faelia asked.

  “I’ll be alright,” Kaven assured her.

  “Kaven, it’s starting to rain,” Kade said, thinking him ridiculous. “I’ll not have you flying around in a thunderstorm.”

  “It’s moving fast,” Faelia said worriedly. “We’re in for a rough night.”

  As the rain poured heavier from above, the roll of distant thunder rumbled across the sea.

  * * * * *

  Upon Skaelwood’s outer wall, hundreds of Skael’adar heard what sounded like a stampede from the eastern trees. Their ears perked, and they readied their weapons.

  A pack of Peletors breached the forest’s edge, and the guards breathed a sigh of relief. The racing creatures dashed across the open field, straight for Skaelwood’s gates.

  Dareic, now entering Skaelwood for the third time, slowed his Peletor at the city’s great doors. He, his companions and escorts dismounted just as Ralian arrived to greet them.

  Dareic stroked his Peletor’s jaw, and it nuzzled to his touch.

  “Thanks, girl,” he said, then made for the Sage.

  “Thank the Goddesses you’ve returned,” Ralian said. “Daro’s army marches for us. Come, we must speak at once.”

  The Sage led them into the Temple Fortress, where Dareic noticed many Human and Erygian soldiers preparing for battle. They conversed with Skael’adar, and readied defenses at the wall. Ralian made no comment on their presence, hurrying straight for the council’s courtyard in which Dareic had spoken to the Skael’akron before his leaving.

  Dareic entered on the Sage’s heels with a hand-hearting, and his audience returned the gesture. Ralian took his seat with the other Skael’akron, who were flanked by General Dúmeru, Thade, an Erygian of high rank, and Maelyn, a Borean ambassador.

  “Tell us,” said the Sage, “how did you fare? Where do the Incinians stand?”

  “The Incinians,” Dareic said, “wow, where to begin? Well, for starters, they’re giving Daro the Gauntlet of Wrath, in return for amnesty.”

  “What?” Ralian gasped, staggered by the news.

  “Lord Embros believes it’s the best course of action for their survival,” Dareic continued. “But the Sage, Fahren, may join us—I think. The whole of Kallenshar is divided.”

  “Heaven save them,” Ralian uttered. “Heaven save us.”

  “When last we left him,” Dareic said, “Fahren was going to try and get the Gauntlet before Embros could deliver it to Daro. As to whether or not he was successful, well, your guess is as good as mine.”

  “So,” Ralian processed Dareic’s account, “you’ve returned with nothing?”

  Dareic laughed, taken aback by the comment, and nearly gave the Sage a piece of his mind.

  “We were lucky to have returned at all,” Vega spoke for him. “If only you knew.”

  Ralian nodded, then looked to Dareic and expressed an apology with his eyes.

  “Ralian,” Vega proceeded, “when did the others arrive? The Humans and Erygians?”

  “A few days ago,” said the Sage. “Human vil
lages to the north fell back to our walls—the Treemen, and their like. The Erygian regiment—it was they who saw Daro’s army approaching, and sped to warn us. They have agreed to stay and fight.”

  “Skael’akron,” Vega addressed the council, “will you be present during the battle?”

  “We are warriors,” said Raia. “But should we fall, another council would need to be elected. Even triumph in battle is not without ensuing disorder. It would better be managed by our wisdom, than others, less ripened. As such, we will remain here, and trust our brave Skael’adar to guard this city. Of course, should it be overrun, every Skael’akron before you will fight to the death.”

  Ralian turned his attention to Vexen. “Vexen, I trust you’d prefer not to engage in battle. You may remain here, with the Skael’akron, well protected within the Fortress.”

  All eyes turned to Vexen as she pondered the Sage’s remark.

  “With all due respect, I think that would lessen our chances of success,” Treäbu said, “I’ve seen what she can do in a fight. Let her stand with us—add another wielder at the wall.”

  “Put her against her very own kin?” Ralian asked. “Turning from her father’s ways is one thing. Asking her to kill her kindred on the battlefield is a whole nother matter. It is asking too much of her. And presuming to know her mind.”

  “Agreed,” said Raia. “And moreover, there is the matter of trust.”

  “So you would keep her under guard?” Treäbu asked.

  “We would keep her safe,” said Raia.

  “You speak to one another as if I’m not standing right here,” Vexen spoke heatedly. “And what ‘matter of trust?’” she asked, offended by their doubt after all she’d been through.

  “We are thankful that you claim to have denounced your father,” Raia told her. “But compliant as you’ve been, the simple matter is that you remain an uncertainty. Please, take no offense, for we mean none. It is only for caution’s sake that we must weigh all possibilities. For if your heart is ill-guided, if your presence here is indeed an elaborate deception, you could do us much harm during the battle. A risk I would rather see avoided than tested.”

  “Council,” Treäbu said, “Understand, Vexen has my full confidence. Suspicion of her intentions is no longer warranted. Trust me, she’s proven herself already.” Vexen looked to Treäbu thoughtfully as the Skael’akron cast each other meaningful glances.

  “Caladen,” Ralian spoke to Dareic, “you’ve been rather unyielding in your opinion of our new guest. Where would you place her during the battle?” Dareic looked to Treäbu, whose eyes urged him to speak honestly in Vexen’s defense.

  “If it were up to me,” Dareic spoke, “I’d lock her up, just to be sure. The fact that this is even a discussion proves she’s still a liability. However, she saved our lives out there. More than once. I still don’t trust you, Vexen Alakai,” he regarded her. “But Treäbu does. And I trust him.” He paused, considering the possibility that he’d been mistaken about Vexen all along. “What would you decide, if the choice was yours?” he asked her.

  All looked to Vexen, who appeared to struggle with her response.

  “Do I want to kill my Father’s forces?” she said at last. “Honestly, I don’t want to kill anyone. But if they smash down your gates and slaughter everyone in the city—if they found me, I can tell you this. I’m never going back. I would cut down anyone who dared to drag me from this haven. I have never fought in a battle. I have no desire to do so. But I would rather help defend this city from obliteration than sit in some cushioned chamber like a coward.”

  Her words affected the Skael’akron, though most were not keen to fully believe them.

  “I must ask, is there any information you could offer us?” Ralian inquired. Vexen fully expected the question. “Anything to aid us in this fight? Surely, you’ve beared witness to your father’s preparations all your life. Can he be bested in ways only those closest to him have learned of? Is there anything we can do?”

  Vexen slowly shook her head. “There is not,” she spoke. The Sage’s heart sank. “I hold no such secrets. I know that’s not what you wanted to hear. I know you hoped I’d repay your kindness with something useful. But it’s the truth. I could tell you of my father’s fortress in the Wastelands. I could describe in great detail his stock of discoveries, preserved within that stronghold. But besides the relic you’re already searching for, I know of nothing that can help you. I am truly sorry.”

  The room fell silent in despair.

  Ralian raised his gaze, and looked to Vexen tenderly. “You have no reason,” he said, “to apologize. You’ve aided our efforts. And you have given us no evidence to mistrust you. When the attack comes, if it is still your wish, you may remain at my side.” Some of the Skael’akron squirmed at the Sage’s decision.

  “And I’ll be at hers,” Dareic said. “Keeping an eye.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” said Ralian. “But what is necessary, ambassador, is that you and I prepare for battle.” Ralian rose from his seat. “Daro’s army approaches. If there are no further matters to discuss,” he paused shortly, looking to the other Skael’akron. “This Council is adjourned.”

  Chapter 27: Preparations

  “Enter,” Daro spoke, and a Primen messenger entered and knelt.

  “My Lord,” it said, “Embros’s messengers have arrived.”

  Daro looked to Finwynn, fully expecting the familiar shade of despair in the old man’s eyes, as he moved to a window. He gazed upon the land below, where fifty Incinians rode upon emberwolves aside a well-armored wagon. They passed through the completed outer wall’s southern gate.

  “Bring them,” he ordered.

  Three Incinians ascended the tower and emerged before Daro, kneeling at his feet. One of them held a hefty chest and offered it.

  The Dark Lord opened it, and gazed upon the Gauntlet of Wrath within.

  “Lord Embros offers this hallowed furentus, the Gauntlet of Wrath,” the Incinian spoke, “in return for your gracious amnesty. With it, we bring news from Kallenshar.”

  “Proceed,” Daro stated, placing the Gauntlet upon his left hand, marveling at the furentus.

  “In our dealings, Lord Embros informed you of an insurrection among our people,” said the Incinian. “Our Sage, Fahren, has fled Kallenshar with his insurgents. His Lordship, Cyndirian Embros, laments this unfortunate development and begs your mercy upon our realm.”

  “These are ill tidings,” said Daro, still mesmerized by the Gauntlet of Wrath. “But not altogether unexpected.”

  “My Lord,” the Incinian continued. “Embros offers additional information regarding your enemies’ movements. Ambassadors—Human, Skaelar and Aeroli—came to Kallenshar seeking alliance against you. Embros refused. My Lord, a woman by the name of Vexen Alakai traveled with them.”

  Daro twisted violently to the messengers, forgetting the Gauntlet entirely. The Incinians cowered, their eyes never leaving the ground. Daro gritted his teeth and an unnatural wind surged about the chamber.

  “Does—he—still—have—her?” he growled as Finwynn carefully observed Daro’s lapse in stability.

  The Incinian put his forehead upon the floor.

  “The ambassadors and their companion escaped, aided by our Sage.”

  Daro’s fists tightened and a crack of roaring thunder erupted, startling the cowering Incinians. Flame engulfed the dark man with a ferocity he’d never conjured before. Fire blazed about his skin in the richest blues, tipped with red-orange, as though it were a bonfire born from man. For a moment, Daro found himself in utter astonishment at the magnitude by which the Gauntlet amplified his power.

  The heat burned Finwynn’s eyes, though he dared to push Daro further into rage.

  “These are the seeds of your demise, Alakai,” he spoke and Daro turned sharply toward him. “How does it feel—knowing your own daughter seeks your undoing?”

  Daro thrust his Gauntleted hand toward the Sage, and Finwynn braced himse
lf for the harshest of assaults. The Dark Lord struggled to restrain himself, knowing the furentus’s power could obliterate the Sage in a single flash of reckless impulse. The chamber trembled, then stilled as Daro lowered his hand and released his magic.

  “Your attempts to provoke me go wasted, Sage,” he spoke, still reeling from his rage. He turned and eyed the three Incinians. Each felt as though their deaths were forthcoming.

  Daro regarded the trembling men, then looked to the Gauntlet upon his hand. “Our accord with Embros holds, despite these unfortunate events,” he spoke, spreading his fingers wide. “Kallenshar will not be harmed.”

  * * * * *

  The gates of Skaelwood opened for Dareic and Ralian, who passed through them. Dareic looked out upon the plain, knowing it would be a battlefield, come nightfall. A sense of dread pervaded his every thought as memories of Caleton flooded his mind.

  “Alright, what are we doing out here?” he asked the Sage.

  “I’ve not yet prepared this section of the battlefield,” said Ralian. “Closest to the wall last.” He looked to the skies. “We have the moon tonight, thank Ceraya. But still, the darkness of night will impede our sight. If they bring Fated. If they bring archers, what do you suppose would aid us in seeing them?”

  “Light? Fire?” Dareic thought it obvious.

  “Precisely. Some of our catapults will deliver payloads filled with orbs of Lasting Luster, an everfire to light the skies when unleashed, and illuminate the battlefield upon impact.”

  “Ralian, that’s—” Dareic paused, “that’ll help, but we need a miracle to stop Daro.”

  “That, we do not have,” said Ralian. “So we must use what is at our disposal. I require your help for placing the last of our defenses.”

  “You’ve rigged the battlefield?” Dareic asked.

  “Indeed,” Ralian responded. “Most of our measures are already set in place—of which, nature has provided many. Its children are endowed with a single purpose—to survive. On leaf and limb, toxins, spores, sap and thorn, when Daro’s army comes, we will use nature against them. I’ve forged payloads for our catapults with the deadliest of Verdure.”