Magic's Genesis- Sword of Wilmamen

by Rosaire Bushey

  “I think you should tell your father that his guests have arrived.” Lydria smirked and Hokra’s eyes lit up and he smiled.

  “Do you want to come with me? I think it will be quite fun.” Hokra helped Lydria to her feet, and she placed her hand on his shoulder for support as they slowly made their way to Graenel. Sturmgrae’s voice reached out to Lydria. “Wielder are the people of this city aware we are coming?”

  Lydria told Sturmgrae they would be ready soon and suggested she and her mate land behind the western wall of the city. As they did, Hokra spotted his father and called out to him, and several minutes later they were by his side.

  “Father, our two guests have arrived, and we have prepared lodging for them,” Hokra turned his father around and pointed to the fresh cavern – an enormous opening that was easily spotted by the king who stood looking at the two wielders waiting for an explanation.

  Lydria cleared her throat and told Graenel of the dragons, their general appearance, their harmlessness to all those who treated them with respect and kindness, and their offer of helping the king protect his city.

  “Very well,” Graenel said. Steeling himself for the sight that had been described he made a motion to his guards who relayed the order throughout Safarngal, indicating the guards and people should stand down and remain still. Lydria called out to Sturmgrae and moments later, two blue dragons loomed over the city’s western wall and landed well upstream of the city proper, walking along the banks of the river, their enormous legs and feet crushing the stone beneath them. The dragons looked around the city in much the same way Lydria and her friends did, and it was this motion that caught Graenel’s eye and made him laugh.

  “These are our scholars! People of Safarngal, come join us by the river, for tonight we will welcome two new members to our community.”

  The king, Lydria and Hokra were happy to see, was beside himself, thinking the dragons, who showed no teeth or signs of malice, were as uncomfortable to be in his town as his town was to have them. When Sturmgrae introduced herself, however, all the Chag Ca’Grae froze and looked to their king and the two wielders near him.

  Hokra answered his people in the way the dragons spoke to them, entering their minds directly and telling them the dragons communicated in this way, for to hear their voices would be too much for the ears of even the Chag Ca’Grae.

  It took some time, but soon food was brought out, and the dragons, who did not eat every day, politely declined, instead content to listen and speak, telling their story from the beginning, as they stood locked in ice as Wynter created his castle around them.

  After the feast, the dragons went to their new home, and the people of Safarngal gasped out loud as enormous bolts of flame shot into the cavern and then light from more flame continued to light the nearby sky until they had worked the stone in their own way and made a home for themselves among the Chag Ca’Grae.

  “Father, now that our guests are settled, we need to discuss our plans with you. Lydria, Relin, Haustis and I will go south, far past Nethyngal, which soon will also have dragons watching over its halls, to confront Wynter.”

  Codex of the Prime Wielder

  Effects of Learning Magic

  Since the first bit of magic was used in Eigrae, the question of how magic is learned and what toll it takes on the wielder has been one of the most-often asked and least understood.

  Dragons, it is believed, have some magical ability, but to what extent we are not yet sure. However, we have no reason to believe that they suffer physical pain in the same way humans do as they use their power. We are planning an excursion to the top of the mountain in the spring to meet with the dragons, and it is our intent to ask this question.

  For an animal, like Kimi, the magic that allows him to speak and be heard, to share his senses with Lydria – all seem to be a natural part of his character. He cannot make a fire or saddle a horse or gut a deer. At least, he has given no indication he is capable of any of these things. But until another animal wears a collar of power, we are no closer to answering the question.

  In fact, the only people who have worn a collar and performed magic, have been humans. No Eifen has yet agreed to hold a stone, so we do not know if the effects of learning magic are the same between the races of Eigrae. If there are other races beyond human and Eifen, then perhaps we might learn more from them if they can wear a collar, but until then, we only know what we know. And that truth is that to use magic, a wielder must be prepared to pay the price in pain and discomfort.

  Lydria

  28 - Ha’quin

  Krieger, Perryn and Grettune were woken by a gentle clearing of a throat, and when they opened their eyes, they saw a man standing just in the hallway, the thin light from the window above casting sinister shadows on his lined and bearded face. There were two soldiers behind him, but they were decorative, not like the soldiers who had led them to their new quarters the previous evening.

  “Good morning Emissary. Wielders,” the man said, nodding first to Krieger and then to the others, where he kept his eyes locked on the blue collars they wore. “I am Ha’quin, Minister of Security for Dar’Ahlmon, an advisor to the Dynast, and member of the Pednast. I am here to question you regarding events taking place on our southern border. Events involving a man of Wesolk and creatures that it seems, are also of your land. Understand this is a serious breach of the peace between our two peoples and the sooner we can clear up this misunderstanding, the better the hope is for peace to remain between our two kingdoms.”

  Having given his speech, for it was evident he didn’t believe, or care, about a word he had said, he entered the cell and a guard who had been standing further in the hallway brought in an upholstered chair and set it down for the minister. Setting himself down, he reached out his hand and it was immediately filled with a goblet, and a small table and bowl of dates quickly took their place near his knee. He took a deep drink and held the goblet out to be refilled and as it was, he helped himself to a date, spitting the seed into his hand and considering it before putting it carefully back in the bowl.

  Minister Ha’quin, Grettune saw, was a man who liked his station and what it afforded. His robes were very finely made, and his beard was braided carefully, with fine silver wire from his chin to the beard’s point half the length of a man’s forearm away. His sandals were clean, deep tan leather, possibly from a camel, and his feet were well tended, with his nails clean and closely cropped, and his feet glistening with oil. It was evident Ha’quin rarely left the castle.

  Around his neck, the minister wore a chain of office over his white robe, a series of dark black squares, roughly made, each embedded with a gemstone in its center so brilliant it made the stone beneath it even darker by comparison. He fondled the chain deliberately, studying it and drawing the eyes of everyone in the room to himself. It was a childish, but clever way of letting everyone know who was in control, and Krieger couldn’t help but blow air from his nose in derision at the tactic.

  Ha’quin looked up coolly from his chain of office and waited until the servants and guards had retreated down the hallway. Then he gazed at the fingers of his left hand – as clean and soft as his feet. Eating another date and sipping his wine, the minister finally turned his attention to Krieger.

  “Honestly, emissary, I don’t know why the dynast had you sent here. And honestly, I don’t care, though I think he has given you far too much comfort. It has long been my belief that Dar’Ahlmon should move with haste upon Wesolk. Your kingdom has risen much too quickly to be ignored; yet he will not because, ‘you have not given us offence.’ It’s a juvenile policy that has no place in our current world. But, being just a boy, he is prone to juvenile things. Fortunately, he has advisors whom he trusts.” Ha’quin held his hands away from his chest and waved the fingers he had pointed toward himself to emphasize the point.

  “Which brings us to the three of you.” Ha’quin turned his head smoothly to the bed where Grettune and Perry sat. “Not only does Wesolk
rise swiftly, it now becomes the center of Eigrae’s …magic, I believe it’s called. This power, I’ve heard, is most wonderous. Why, people say that this magic can repair run-down market stalls in the time it takes to draw a breath, so that they shine like new.”

  Ha’quin shifted forward slightly in his chair, his elbows on his knees and his goblet held suspended in the air between them. “And then there is the matter of the enormous winged lizard beasts. That they come from Wesolk everyone knows. That you have sent them to raid and pillage our towns, however, we find perplexing. Well, the Dynast finds it perplexing. I think it is rather wonderfully done by your King Edgar. Send those beasts to take a small insignificant island to our south, draw our troops in that direction and then launch your assault on Dar’Ahlmon from the north. A classic maneuver.” Ha’quin took a slow drink from his goblet and leaned into the back of his chair, resting his weight on the fine needlework covering the arm of his chair.

  “Minister Ha’quin,” Krieger’s voice was even and not at all offended by the minister’s words. He understood how the game was played and enjoyed it. What’s more, Grettune thought, he seemed to be intrigued by how well Ha’quin played. “Are you implying Wesolk has purposefully attacked your kingdom? I hope this is not the case as it would be extraordinary for such an accusation to be delivered by anyone other than the Dynast himself.”

  If Ha’quin was fazed by the thinly veiled threat, he didn’t show it. “Emissary Krieger, you sit in the dungeons of Dar’Ahlmon. Let us speak bluntly. You will remain here until we decide you should leave. If,” he looked quickly to Grettune and back to Krieger, “your stay is long enough, then Dar’Ahlmon will welcome our newest citizen, as those born here are citizens and may not be taken from the kingdom without the Dynast’s permission. A permission that is unlikely to be given.

  “No, emissary, the Dynast does not believe Wesolk has attacked us. But he is young, and he will do as his advisors suggest, and I will propose that we do not fall for the feint to the south, and that we bring our forces to bear to the north. We can deal with the southern outposts later. They are inconsequential. As, I might add, are you.”

  Clapping his hands twice, the minister rose from his seat and waited silently while the guards took away his furniture. When they were gone, he turned to leave but stopped and turned only his head toward Perryn. “When the time comes, the three of you will be free to go.” He smiled as he emphasized the word three and moved down the hall where the iron bound door clanged behind him.

  The room was silent for several breaths after the echoes of the door had receded. “We need to leave here quickly,” Krieger said. “If this man really has the ear of the Dynast then we must escape and warn the king.”

  “Won’t escaping make the minister’s claims more believable?” Grettune’s question calmed Krieger and he looked to Perryn for his thoughts. He had been silent, even as the minister threatened his family, and Krieger was curious as to why.

  Perryn stood and limped to the open door and looked down the hall, to assure himself the door remained closed. “When the minister entered, I tried to focus my attention on what the guards were talking about down the hall. Those who serve people like Ha’quin will talk more than is good for them. My magic, however, is not up to the task. I could hear some of what they said, but it was not clear, and it taxed me far more than I thought it should have. I have been silent because for the last ten minutes I’ve been trying to ignore the pain of my very broken foot.

  “Still, I do not disagree with your assessment, Krieger. If the Dynast can be convinced to march on Wesolk, our presence here will do little to aid our people. If we wait, we can stay for a time, perhaps a month?” he looked to Grettune as he said it and she nodded. “Our child will not be born here, nor held here. Though I think we may be able to learn more if we bide our time and wait. To escape now, so quickly after the minister’s visit, will invite only suspicion. Plus, isn’t there someone from the Dar’Duz whom we have yet to meet?”

  For three days after Ha’quin’s visit, the three were left largely to themselves, with guards making routine checks and bringing water and food, but otherwise they were not allowed to leave the area. Grettune listened to the guards, easily hearing them, but what they said had nothing to do with them or their situation.

  It was late on the fourth night when a noise woke Grettune and Perryn. Moving to the wall at the end of the corridor, they looked up toward the window and saw a small scroll suspended by a string. After untying it, the string was drawn up, and they woke Krieger.

  Perryn created a small blue light as Grettune unrolled a parchment no wider than her finger and not much longer than her palm.

  “If you are the savior of the Dar’Duz, make your way tomorrow evening to the bridge south of the city walls and cross. If our archers do not see the savior, they will kill anyone who makes their way across the bridge.”

  Grettune burned the scroll and looked at the others. “It seems we have come to the end of our stay in Dar’Ahlmon.”

  29 - Escape

  The plan for getting out of the dungeon involved Perryn incapacitating the guard, taking the key, Grettune hiding the three of them from sight, and walking out the door. The part of the castle they were in was largely empty, and Krieger believed they would be able to walk out of the palace easily, encountering difficulties only when they were in the compound.

  “We’ll have to play it loose when we’re outside the palace, and we’ll have to be quick. We need to make the southern gate and get to the bridge before dawn.” Krieger sounded confident in the plan, but his look toward the wielders suggested otherwise. “Is your foot going to be ok for so much walking?” Krieger looked to Perryn whose foot was braced on either side by broken wooden plates and strapped with strips of bed linen. Perryn nodded. He hadn’t so much as winced in pain, and Grettune was quietly proud of her husband and how he had adapted so well to his role.

  Arriving at the locked door, Perryn stared for a moment before reaching out and opening the door which swung silently open. The guard on the other side was sitting at a table looking through a small pile of jewelry. By the time he noticed the door opening, Perryn was at his side, slamming his head onto the flat top of the stone table.

  “What happened to convincing the guard to open the door?” Krieger looked at Perryn his voice angry but his eyes alight with adrenalin.

  “I thought this would be easier.”

  “Good thinking. Let’s go.”

  Heading up the first flight of stairs, Krieger heard the noise of weapons and armor and urged the wielders to retrace their steps down the stairs. “They must have added more guards since Ha’quin’s arrival,” Krieger guessed.

  “I have an idea,” Grettune said, reaching into a pouch and taking out the small blue sphere she had received from Lydria. Holding it in the palm of her hand, she closed her eyes and thought about the bridge south of the city. When she opened her eyes, she saw for a moment, a white path leading back down the stairs past the guard table and through a wall at the end of a hallway.

  “Here,” Grettune said to Krieger, pointing out a small latch the taller man could just reach. It reminded him of the secret door in his rooms at the castle in Bayside, and as the switch made an audible click, he pushed the wall and it moved forward, a light grating of stone on sand echoing in the hall as the wall opened to reveal a staircase going down, and a draft of cooler air meeting their faces. Closing the door behind them, they descended two flights of stairs that opened onto a stone pier where a small, gilded and heavily decorated boat was tied to one of several bollards. Looking further down the pier another small boat, this one noticeably plain and unassuming bobbed almost imperceptibly in the flat water.

  “This makes sense,” Krieger smiled. “A way for the Dynast to get out of the palace unseen, or a way to remove prisoners without attracting attention. I’d bet if you dredged this waterway, you’d find more than just sand and silt.” Perryn moved to the plain boat and untied the mooring r
ope, gesturing for his friends to climb aboard and they set off down the narrow waterway under the Golden Palace.

  There were two portcullises which were easily lifted by Grettune’s magic, and Krieger stood at the back of the boat, punting it down the shallow waterway. After several turns Krieger confidently told the others they were heading south, and it wasn’t long before they saw another pier where they stopped and tied the boat.

  “There isn’t likely to be a guard by wherever this comes out – at least not if this is a private exit for the Dynast,” Krieger said. “Still, we should be on guard.” Their weapons had been taken and for all the use of two wielders, should anyone need to be killed, that was work that would need to be done by hand. Krieger broke the long punting oar and held the jagged piece of wood like a short sword. It wouldn’t be useful to parry, but it would ensure someone didn’t raise an alarm.

  The pier at this end of the waterway was similar to the other, but narrower and it led to a dark passageway that had several twists. With their vision enhanced to walk without torches, Grettune could see that the curves hid small side rooms, most likely where people could hide, or guards could be posted and remain unseen. Silently pointing this out to Krieger, he stopped mid-stride and asked Grettune to muffle his footsteps, and he checked each hidden passage as they made their way through twenty minutes of tunnel.

  Reaching the end, it was Grettune who peered out the door, and seeing nothing gestured for the others to follow. The passage emptied outside the city wall, near the river and by a small section of wall that was poorly visible from the guard towers that seemed evenly spaced along the perimeter of the city.

  “It is amazing that rulers will go to such lengths and imperil their cities in such a way,” Krieger said. “If our mission fails and Dar’Ahlmon marches north, one of us needs to get the information about this passage under the walls and into the palace to King Edgar.” Grettune and Perryn both nodded and Perryn pointed out the bridge they had been told to find. “It’s time, then, let’s go see who our Dar’Duz benefactor is.”