by Langland, J.
Talarius had killed the other fiend in the same manner. The only really effective manner, stake through the heart, cut off the head, a day of sunlit exposure. Failing the sun, as had been the case here in this grey and dingy land, a dousing with Holy Waters and then a burning would suffice. The ashes had to be scattered to the four quarters, of course. Not trivial. Not pleasant. But far better than this. Burning ghouls, former people, at the stake.
The other villagers, the survivors, hadn't been too receptive to the idea. Eventually he'd managed to convince them that there was no other choice. No cure. No release but death in flame. It had taken all of his most persuasive talents; he hated using them in this manner, but there was no other choice. Tiernon knew if there were, Talarius would have found it. Found it twelve years ago. Perhaps the worst were the mothers, knowing their sons or daughters were damned, both on Astlan and in the hereafter, and the only possible hope of avoiding the second was to burn horribly at the stake.
They were survivors though. They'd lived through one of the worst nightmares a village could go through. They'd survived. In the end, Talarius was sure that that experience, more than any charisma on his part, had persuaded them as to the necessity. They were a brave folk, even though none had come to join him on this vigil. He didn't blame them. He didn't want to be here, watching. Someone had to though. If not only to bid farewell to these poor souls, then to also assure none escaped.
The fires continued to burn, but Talarius could hear no more sounds from the stakes. He could see no more contorting bodies. It was nearing the end. All that was left was to watch these remaining fires burn out. Watch, as he had the day before when he'd burnt the bodies of sixteen of his men. Twelve had been dead. Killed outright. The other four had been in the same Tiernon-forsaken state as these sad creatures. He felt the loss of each of those men as if they were a part of himself.
He couldn't let that loss stop him, however. He had a job to do. People to save, a mission. He would meet the challenges set forth before him. He would meet and conquer them, as he had in the past, as he would in the future. While he would grieve in his own way, if he faltered or halted in his mission, Tiernon alone knew how many would pay the price of his hesitation. How many had already paid in the past. Melissance...Trian...Kiernon...Baxtion. Talarius shook his head. He would lead men wherever the right took them. He would never let his own inactions allow another innocent to come to harm again, not if he had any say in it.
The last of the fires had burned out. Twilight was beginning to set in. It was hard to tell in this dark land where the sun never seemed to shine, however the general light level seemed to be decreasing. Talarius trudged back towards the village. He would get the villagers to bury the remains of the ashes, or whatever they cared to do with their loved ones. The ashes were not his concern. He'd inspected every smoldering burned out heap of ashes. Inspected them to insure that nothing evil had escaped. Clean. Clean and pure at last.
The mud and wattle huts of the village seemed to almost blend into the brown and grey landscape and sky. He wondered how the villagers could go on here, day after day. They did though. Perhaps that was what he most admired in the human spirit. The ability to carry on, no matter what. To fight against the odds, to grit one's teeth and hang on against all that the gods threw at one.
As he entered the village, the mayor, or what passed for a mayor, came out to tug pitifully at his cloak. "Sir, Lord Talarius? Is it over?" Talarius looked sadly down into the man's frightened eyes. The weight of pain and fear seemed to bow the man over, as if he bore a great burden. Given all the troubles the village had undergone, he probably did.
"Not Lord, Gasmon. I told you that before. I am simply Talarius. No more, no less. If you wish, you may call me Sir Talarius, but that is the highest honor I aspire to. I am but a man, like yourself. And yes. It is over. Finally over."
Talarius looked back over his shoulder to the charred remains of this man's friends. The man's wife even. "It is over. They have all gone to what awaits them in the afterlife. I pray that many of them have been forgiven and will find the rewards they so otherwise deserved." He rested his hand gently on the man's shoulder. He smiled gently, but sadly, down at the mayor as he said. "You may go and do as you see fit with the remains of your people. No more harm will come from them or to you." The mayor nodded his thanks and quickly scurried off to gather his fellow villagers.
Talarius made his way towards War Arrow. He'd sent his few remaining men on ahead. He'd left this last task for himself alone. He stopped by the bench outside the inn to gather his saddlebags. He'd left them there this morning, in preparation for leaving as soon as this job was done. He then continued on up the road to his steed. As he approached his companion, he shook his head, trying to clear it. This chapter was over, another was about to begin.
He had already received a request for assistance from Iskerus. Demons it seemed. Talarius almost smiled. Not quite, but almost. Demons were much harder to deal with than vampires or ghouls. Demons were the worst of the forsaken. They were the very essence of the Dark. Nearly impossible to permanently kill or defeat. A challenge if there ever was one. A challenge he grimly relished.
With demons, there was no question. The entire issue was black and white. No humanity involved. No lingering doubts about doing the right thing. Demons must die, must be defeated if mortal kind was to survive. Demons were the antithesis of all that was good, all that was life. In slaying a demon, Talarius wasn't killing some poor monster that had once been human. No creature who's soul had been sacrificed at the vile whims of another. No being that had foolishly given up his or her life in the pursuit of fleeting dreams of physical immortality, and who might later regret such a hasty action. With demons, there was no question of killing unshriven. No worry about forgiveness. Demons had no guilt, no remorse, no doubt, no repentance. Even if they did, they were the most damned of the damned, there was no possibility of parole or pardon. With demons, it was out of Talarius' hands, his mission was clearer with demons, there were no doubts, no fears. Only action.
~
"Any luck?" Lenamare asked Jehenna as she walked into their chamber, not really expecting a positive answer. He was not disappointed; he didn't get one.
"None. I retraced back to the ambush sight. Apparently, some of our people survived. Our dead seemed to have been buried, and the wagons salvaged. From the looks of things, the survivors headed for Freehold. The book was gone." Jehenna reported.
"So! If our people lived, then they must have won, and taken the book. If they're heading to Freehold, they'll be here any time. Naturally, out of deepest concern for my students, I should personally arrange to go and meet them. And the book, of course." Lenamare jumped from his chair in excitement over the thought of getting his book back. He began pacing the room, planning. Jehenna was already shaking her head though.
"One would think so. However, I followed the trail all the way to Freehold. I found some of our horses wandering free, plus the packs. No sign of the people, or the book."
"Damn! How sure are you?"
"Very, it's hard to miss things in spirit form when you know how to look for them. I then scanned the entire area. No sign of anyone. Given that there isn't really any way to leave the trail, until much closer to Freehold than they could've gotten, they must have flown or teleported."
"Exador excrement!" Lenamare shouted. "They could be anywhere on the damn planet! Why are those idiots doing this to me? Do they enjoy frustrating me?" Jehenna said nothing.
"How? How am I going to find that book? I can't even get the Abyss blessed fourth order to answer a summons. None of my other demons will have a clue on how to find the book or the students."
"You could send them all on a wide scan search, I suppose." Jehenna didn't sound too convinced her own suggestion would work.
"No, there are not enough of them. Of the ones I can rely on, I've only got two thirds, three second and three first. Besides, if I did that, Exador would certainly find out and kn
ow we'd lost the book. Then he would be out searching for the thing. At least for the moment he's penned up here with us at Freehold."
"I suppose." Jehenna decided to change the topic. "Any luck on your end?"
"Some. I've managed to contact both Trisfelt and Hortwell. Elrose is still unaccounted for."
"That is something, I suppose. No word on the other groups?"
"None, but they're irrelevant. Actually if Trisfelt could get back in time for the council meeting it would be a nice touch. He's got the kids in tow. Their tear-streaked muddy faces could do a lot to persuade the council. Unfortunately, when he bugged out with them he went to his old home in Scarpsdale. It's about a day short of Hoggensforth. Since he hasn't been to Freehold in the last twenty years, he's a bit squeamish about teleporting blindly here with a bunch of kids.
"Man's always needed a push now and then for anything, " Lenamare added. "I decided I need the little urchins bad enough not to argue with him. He'd do what he wanted anyway, I'm sure."
Jehenna just shook her head. "And Hortwell? He's still alive."
"Yes, it wasn't clear exactly what had happened to him. He wasn't saying. However, the important thing is that he's with Zilquar's army. They're just out of sight of Exador's army. Staying invisible, I guess."
"Zilquar's army? He made good time. Given the time it would have taken to raise his forces, he must have come 600 miles in about 5 days. That's incredibly fast for supply wagons and footmen."
"Aaaahh!" Lenamare smiled. "Why do you think I called on him, despite his distance? Why did I ally myself with someone so far away?" Lenamare paced the room, his arm waving above his head, in a rather excited lecturer format. "You see, I knew that no one, such as Exador, would believe any distant ally like Zilquar could get there in time. But you forget that which many wizards forget when considering Zilquar. What are his school's main areas of expertise?"
Jehenna shrugged, "Enchantment and Thaumaturgy I believe."
"Exactly! Air and Earth! Like so many, you miss the military implications of his areas! Despite the fact that they do little Pyromancy or Conjury, they still are extremely useful for military situations. You see, one of the things that he routinely has his students making as an exercise, is flying carpets!"
"Of course. He flew his people in!" Jehenna seemed a bit miffed that she'd missed this.
"Well," Lenamare conceded, "I suspect, to get an entire army, plus horses, he partially flew them in. I would guess he had all his horses and cavalry riding hard. His foot soldiers and supplies he probably flew.
"However, in addition to being able to arrive very quickly, his larger carpets would have made the perfect platforms from which to launch aerial attacks against that usurping son of a swamp lizard and his now glowing army." Lenamare stopped and scowled at the floor. "Unfortunately, we had no time to reveal my plan. That demon and what's his name, the dead student, conspired against me." He waved his hand at any possible argument Jehenna might consider. "Oh, I know. Not directly conspire, I'm not that paranoid. Indirectly though, their incompetence aided my enemy, thus I use the word conspire, albeit rather loosely."
Lenamare sat down again, resting his chin on his fist. "The problem," he tilted his head to look up at Jehenna, "still remains. We don't have the book. Nor does Exador, fortunately. We must have that book. Since, at the moment, we can't get it, and since I suspect the council would find itself disagreeable to my venting steam by doing another Fission spell here at Freehold, I must find some other way to release my anger. Why don't we plan the destruction of Exador? Yes, what can we do to discredit and ruin him here at Freehold?" Lenamare smiled to himself. Jehenna simply shook her head and pulled up a chair.
~
Maelen finished up the last of the wounded sailors. He then ran up to the forecastle to quickly look Rupert over. The boy's body was a mess, severe burns, charred at the edges. Giant blisters had formed almost immediately. In a couple places on the outer extremities the very bone itself was showing through. His teeth appeared locked in a rictus of pain. Maelen did a quick scan for life. He found none. Admittedly, his senses were slightly obscured by the residual mana still clinging to the boy's body.
The lightning spell had apparently been powerful enough that, even now, the mana used to create it, hung over the boy's body in a haze. Animus was also present, however, it was not in the body as it would be with someone still alive. Rather it was the hazy disbursement of animus found shortly after the body was vacated by the soul. Actually, there was quite of bit of left-over animus, more than a boy of this age should have left. On the other hand, he'd noticed the boy had very high animus and mana concentrations while alive. That had been what had led Maelen to believe he was actually Edwyrd's student. They both seemed to have very strong animus and mana auras. Much as he regretted it though, there was nothing he could do for the boy.
Edwyrd, on the other hand, was a different story. He'd plunged out of the sky and into the sea. It was pretty clear that he'd used up all his reserves in doing his last attack. Actually, Maelen would never have guessed the lad had enough reserves to do what he did. Edwyrd had had to use a fantastic amount of power. The Living Flame alone was taxing, add the prolonged strike against the Oorstemoth ship, finally the Avatar and then the increased heat of the blue-white flames must have drained him to the core.
Obviously, Edwyrd was more than just a one discipline idiot-savant. While one could specialize enough to become a pyromaster at the expense of other disciplines relatively easily, only a true master animage would have the power reserves to do what Edwyrd had done. Maelen didn't have those kind of reserves, even if he had known pyromastery. Judging by mana output alone, Edwyrd would have to be a Seated Member of the Society of Learned Fellows, entitled to the Chevroned Robe and Mortar Board.
So why did he look like a lost youth? By all actions, save the use of pyromastery, he appeared to be exactly what he claimed, exactly what Maelen had Seen. This, however, indicated that his aura was actually correct, that he was a master in disguise. Maelen shook his head, he really would have to have a long talk with the lad. If he lived. Maelen began busily scanning the area of the sea with both his eyes and his Sight.
He waved to a crew member to attend him. He'd need help to pull Edwyrd out of the water, if he found him. There, about a hundred feet from the ship, below the surface. A large collection of animus and mana that had to be Edwyrd. Maelen used his limited telekinetic strength to try and lift the lad’s head above water. He only hoped it wasn't too late.
Animus and Mana
Curriculum Vitae: College of Wizardry
University of the Council States
Animus
Animus is the "energy of life" it is roughly speaking the spirit or soul, the "living" part of all living creatures. All things that are alive have animus. Animus inundates every cell and the very molecular and genetic structure of living creatures. It is what separates organic compounds from living organisms. When a creature dies, the animus leaves the cells of its body and either disperses into the world around or in the case of high animus concentrations, may travel to other locations or planes.
Higher levels of animus result in higher-level beings. Plants and non-thinking life forms have the lowest levels of animus, animals considerably higher, and sentient creatures higher yet. Many theorists have hypothesized that it is actually the concentration of animus that causes thought and eventually consciousness. If the animus collects beyond a certain point, thought and instinct become possible, and then, past some other point, true consciousness, or awareness occurs.
Animus is not static. It grows with the thing to which it is attached. Or more precisely it is both generated by the interaction of the elements within the body and also collected from the environment. As something ages, or becomes more experienced, its animus grows. In the case of sentient beings what this means is that as a being grows in life and experience the animus grows with it. Individuals collect it in the process of their daily life, the more they get aro
und, experience the world, the more animus they are able to collect. In particular, at a given time there is only so much animus in any region; thus travel truly does broaden one’s horizons, and one’s animus.
Where does this additional animus come from? Ultimately, it would seem, from mana. Animus by its very nature attracts mana. The more animus a thing has the more mana it attracts. Some of the attracted mana is apparently "consumed" by the animus and the animus grows.
In principle, on the physical plane, animus must be contained or it will quickly disperse. Larger concentrations take longer to be dispersed; thus when a plant dies its animus tends to go back into nature rather quickly, breaking back down to other substances and perhaps back into raw mana. When a sentient creature dies, its concentration of mana is large enough that it usually has time to exit the physical plane, usually with the assistance of some higher being (a god for example). In certain cases, discussed later, it may be possible to contain the animus with mana, and the spirit may stay around on the physical plane for a longer period of time.
Mana
Mana is the fundamental energy of the universe. It is a fundamental property that is either created by, or intrinsic to, the elemental forces. All of the elements radiate mana into their surroundings. It is this radiated mana that binds the elements together. Some theorists have thus referred to mana as the Binding Element of the Universe, or the Raw Energy of the Elements. Whatever it is, it is usable by those who understand it.
As mentioned earlier, animus attracts mana to itself from its surroundings. The more animus, the more mana collected. While all creatures collect mana, only those specially trained can hold on to it, or do anything with it. Non-magical, and non-magic using creatures, accumulate mana, and store some of it in themselves to sustain their animus. The rest radiate it away either to the environment, or they can channel it to some other being, such as a god, through prayers, sacrifice, and religious rituals.