by Clayton Wood
Kalibar gazed at the cityscape below, knowing that he would never live long enough to see such a spectacle...the re-creation of the Ancient Empire. He'd read nearly every book that existed on the Ancients, devouring the texts in his youth, fascinated to the point of obsession. He'd read all of the Ancient biographies of the giants of those times...Renval, Sabin, Gogan, Ampir. How many times had he wondered what the Empire would look like if Sabin and Ampir hadn't betrayed their people, setting civilization back two thousand years?
It was a futile line of thinking, Kalibar knew. His whole life had been devoted to slowly rebuilding what Ampir and Sabin had destroyed.
He sighed, taking his palms off of the glass wall in front of him, then stepping backward. He reached up with the same hand, gazing at his pink, wrinkled flesh. He'd nearly forgotten that, just a few hours ago, he'd been living in a world of pure darkness. How quickly the mind adapted...he was already having a hard time remembering what it was like to be blind. He flexed his fingers, marveling at the faint blue rays emanating from the magic rings on his fingers.
What a remarkable gift, he thought.
A sudden boom rocked the Tower, making the glass windows vibrate. Kalibar frowned, looking beyond the transparent panels, down at the buildings far below.
There, in the distance – right in the center of the commercial district – a massive cloud of dust and smoke rose above a large building. It was Stridon Central Bank, the headquarters for the wealthiest banking company in the Empire. As he watched, its stone walls collapsed inward on all sides, the roof breaking apart and falling downward. Massive chunks of stone shattered as they converged in the center of the building, forming a crude sphere. Debris sucked into the sphere, nearby carriages and people sliding across the street and flying upward into that vortex. Everything that was sucked into its vacuum was torn apart near its center, then shoved outward, only to be sucked back in again. The sphere undulated for a few moments, the fragments of stone and wood getting smaller and smaller as they were torn asunder, and then the whole thing suddenly collapsed, hunks of rubble dropping straight down onto the street below. A massive cloud of dust shot up with the impact, and seconds later, another shockwave rattled the Tower. Kalibar stared at the expanding cloud of gray, at the pile of rubble below it, in disbelief.
The bank had been utterly destroyed.
Kalibar heard the high-pitched emergency alarm, and turned around, spotting Jax and Erasmus behind the transparent front door. Kalibar walked up to the door, opening it...but not before he remembered that he wasn't supposed to be able to see.
“What the hell is going on?” he asked as Erasmus rushed into the room. Jax followed him in, along with a few elite guards. Kalibar closed the door behind them, activating its defensive wards.
“Stridon Central Bank has been attacked,” Erasmus stated grimly. “You heard the shockwaves?”
“I...yes, I did,” he replied. “I want my Battle-Weavers mobilized. Jax, get me High Weaver Urson.” Jax nodded, go to the communication half-globe, activating it. He turned to one of the elite guards. “Debrief the captain of the elite guard, have his men seal the Tower. No one comes in, no one goes out. No one is to come in or out of the Gate Shield either, except for my Battle-Weavers.” The guard nodded, rushing out of the room. He turned to another guard. “I want the captain of the city guard. Tell him to set a perimeter around the bank,” Kalibar demanded. “We need to protect the people from the wreckage.”
“Agreed,” Erasmus piped in. “If this is an isolated attack – a terrorist attack – we'll need disaster crews in after the area is declared safe. We'll need medical teams to separate the dead from the wounded, the dying from the well. I'll contact the governor.”
“Good idea,” Kalibar stated. Erasmus turned about, replacing Jax at the communication orb. Jax walked back to Kalibar.
“Battle Weavers are conducting aerial surveillance,” Jax stated. “They'll move in to neutralize any further attacks.”
“Thank you,” Kalibar replied. “I want High Weaver Urson here as soon as possible,” he added. Urson was the commander of the Battle-Weavers, second-in-command to Kalibar himself...and despite his relatively young age, one of the finest tacticians in the Empire. Jax nodded silently. Erasmus came back from the communication orb.
“The governor's courier is coming,” he informed. “I'll have him organize mobile medical units. We'll set up evaluation and treatment tents beyond the perimeter of the attack, and set up carriages to bring seriously wounded victims to our hospitals.”
“Good,” Kalibar replied. Then he shook his head. “This feels like a terrorist attack,” he muttered. “They're trying to turn our own people against us, by playing on their fears. First the prisoners, now this...some of the wealthiest citizens in Stridon had their fortunes tied up in that bank.”
“Myself included,” Jax stated with a sigh. “It's a good thing I'm so close to death that I don't give a damn.”
“I doubt others will be so understanding,” Kalibar muttered. “We'll have to help finance the rebuilding of the bank, and guarantee our citizens that their fortunes will be preserved.”
“Agreed,” Jax replied. “And we need to prove that Xanos is responsible for this,” he added. “But if he is, I don't see how we can stop him.”
“We always knew this was a losing battle,” Kalibar muttered. Erasmus snorted.
“Well, the damn Council isn't exactly making our jobs any easier,” he interjected. “Present company excluded,” he added hastily. Jax sighed.
“The government was designed for inertia,” he admitted. “Not for this kind of situation.”
“The founders did anticipate this,” Kalibar countered. Jax's eyes narrowed.
“You mean the Right of Dictatorship,” he stated warily. “There's no turning back from that, Kalibar. You know what they'll do to you if you go down that path.”
“It's starting to look like it's our only remaining option, Jax.”
“Give me some time,” Jax requested, suddenly looking even older than his seventy-two years. “Let me speak to Goran and his followers...make them see reason. Leave the Right of Dictatorship off the table,” he insisted. “If you invoke it, you will be hanged, Kalibar.”
“If the Council decides to hang me for saving my people,” Kalibar replied, “I'll put the damn noose around my neck myself.”
“Give me some time,” Jax repeated. Then he turned away, walking out of the suite. Kalibar watched the old man leave, then sighed, glancing back at the cityscape beyond the suite's massive, transparent walls. He knew that his citizens would be in shock for some time. They would still believe that the government would protect them. That this disruption in their lives would be the last, and life would return to normal soon. But when the attacks didn't stop, when it became clear that the Empire was powerless against this new enemy, the lofty ideals of the Empire would succumb to the sheer instinct to survive. The citizens of Stridon would submit to Xanos, offering Kalibar's head to the enemy themselves if it meant they would be spared.
He'd seen it happen before. Had used the tactic himself against his enemies long ago, much to his mentor Marcus's dismay.
If Kalibar didn't find a way out of this mess, Xanos wouldn't need overwhelming power or an army of Death Weavers to defeat him. With a few well-placed attacks, and a little patience, the Empire would end up destroying itself.
Chapter 9
Kyle sped along in his gravity boots, following Master Banar as he flew between some trees, over a mile from the Tower. The going was slow, requiring a great deal of concentration to steer around each tree. That was the point, of course; Master Banar was teaching Kyle finer control over his gravity boots. At first, Kyle smacked into more than one tree, but eventually he managed to avoid the obstacles. It was an exhausting exercise, at least mentally. Eventually Master Banar stopped in mid-air, rotating to face Kyle.
“Getting tired?” he asked with a grin. Kyle nodded. “All right, fly up above the treetops,” he
ordered. Then the Runic flew upward through the air, dodging branches as he went. Higher and higher he soared, until at last he stopped a dozen feet above the tallest tree.
Kyle gulped, staring up at his instructor. He'd always had a healthy respect for gravity, particularly the way in which that most unforgiving of forces could pull you down to your death if you dared to defy it. But Master Banar was insistent, gesturing for Kyle to levitate upward. Kyle gathered his courage, then streamed magic gently into his left boot. Upward he rose, the ground shrinking below him.
“Careful!” Master Banar warned. Kyle stopped his magic stream, halting in mid-air. Looking up, he saw that there was a large tree branch right above his head. He went around it, then rose up until he was level with Master Banar.
“Sorry,” Kyle told Banar.
“No problem,” he replied. “We need to protect that precious brain of yours,” he added with a grin, ruffling Kyle's hair playfully. “Alright, time for more learning! Where were we?”
“Uh, magic vacuity?”
“Right,” Banar stated. “Crystals pull magic into them unless they're full, and the emptier a crystal is, the hungrier they are for magic around them.”
“And my brain has crystals that can pull magic out of just about anything,” Kyle added. Banar nodded.
“So we assume. Now, no one can pull magic out of your mind,” he explained. “...at least not without great difficulty. But you can pull magic from other parts of peoples' bodies.”
“Like what?” Kyle asked.
“Like their bones,” Master Banar answered. “Bones are made of minerals, and they're good at storing magic. Magic flows from the brain and into the skull bones, filling them up until they're saturated. Some magic is leaked into the surrounding air. This is the magic you can sense coming from Weavers and Runics.”
“How can I use the magic in my bones?” Kyle pressed.
“It's used automatically,” Master Banar answered. “When the stores within your brain are depleted, magic streams from the nearest bones – those of your skull – to the brain. That's why Sabin assumed that the brain must contain small amounts of his 'void mineral.' When the magic in the skull starts to get used up, magic from the next nearest bones – the spine – streams to the skull, and so forth. The opposite happens when you use up all of the magic in your body.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well,” Banar answered, “...when you use up every last bit of magic in your bones, magic still gets produced in your brain. However, remember that, the emptier a mineral, the greater its magic vacuity. Bone has a high vacuity, so when its completely empty of magic, the vacuum is quite powerful. In fact, it’s so powerful that it's almost impossible to keep much magic within the brain, at least at first. As magic continues to get produced, the bones fill up...first the skull, then the upper spine, and so forth. Once the skull is filled again, using magic is easier.”
“I think I get it,” Kyle said. Master Banar beamed.
“Good,” he replied. “The reason I'm teaching you this is because vacuity becomes extraordinarily important when making runics,” he added. “Imagine creating an incredibly powerful item, one with a massive amount of stored magic. Then imagine someone found a crystal with greater magic vacuity, emptied it of its magic, and placed it near your amazing invention. Guess what would happen?”
“It would get drained,” Kyle answered.
“Exactly,” Banar agreed. Kyle frowned.
“But wait,” he asked. “Kalibar said most storage crystals had a 'password' on them, so people couldn't just take the magic out of anyone's stuff.”
“True,” Master Banar replied. “There are ways to protect storage crystals from being drained. One is to keep them only partially saturated...that way they'll still have a high vacuity, resisting the pull of other crystals. In fact, the vast majority of storage crystals are purposefully kept at about 20% capacity, for this very reason.”
“And the passwords?” Kyle pressed.
“Well, that's complicated,” his teacher admitted. “The 'passwords' Grand Weaver Kalibar described are sensory runes. These runes don't do anything...they're just randomly created by the maker of the storage crystal. But weaving the password pattern activates the sensory runes, which in turn activate effector runes on the crystals...runes that break up the crystalline structure.”
“I don't get it,” Kyle replied. “How does that make it possible to pull magic from the crystal?”
“You can always pull magic from crystals,” Master Banar corrected. “Even a diamond with an impossibly complex password is vulnerable. It's just that the diamond's vacuity is so high that it takes a great deal of time and effort to extract any magic from it. But if you make lots of tiny fractures within the diamond – by a magically reversible process – its magic vacuity will decrease. Then you can pull almost all of the magic out with ease. And when they're done, all they have to do is re-lock the gem, and the process reverses.”
“Wow,” Kyle replied, shaking his head slowly. “How did anyone come up with this stuff?”
“Well, I'll give you a hint.” Master Banar replied with a wink. “It sure wasn't a Weaver that figured it all out.” Kyle couldn't help but smile. Still, he felt a bit overwhelmed by it all.
“Yeah, I don't think I'll be coming up with anything so creative,” he muttered. “I'll be lucky just to carve a rune,” he added glumly. Master Banar laughed, clapping Kyle on the shoulder with one hand.
“Oh, don't you worry,” he replied with his characteristic grin. “Have a little faith in yourself, Kyle...you'll be doing far more than that, and sooner than you think!”
* * *
Kyle and Master Banar zipped forward over the treetops, the Tower behind them growing ever smaller in the distance. The Gate Shield glimmered in the distance, rising up in a massive dome over the three-story tall black fence surrounding the Secula Magna, now only a quarter mile away. Kyle glanced down, spotting two figures dressed in black walking on the grass far below. It was Ariana and Master Owens, already preparing for their morning lesson. Master Banar called out after the two, descending smoothly toward them.
“Master Owens!” Banar greeted, landing gently on the grass beside the Weaver. Master Owens grinned, embracing the younger Runic and clapping him on the back.
“Master Banar,” Owens replied. Then he glanced at Kyle, who had halted in mid-air above them. “Kyle,” he added with a nod. Ariana stared up at Kyle, a huge smile on her face.
“You're flying!” she blurted out, rather enviously. “How are you doing that?” Kyle shrugged, unable to hold back a smile of his own. He descended through the air gracefully, landing beside Ariana.
“Oh, just tinkering,” he replied casually. But he beamed at her, and even gave her a wink. Ariana shook her head, her jealousy plain to see.
“Are those Gravity boots?” she pressed. Master Banar nodded.
“A miracle of runic technology,” he answered, extending a hand for Ariana to shake. “Master Banar,” he stated, introducing himself. “I'm Kyle's Runic instructor. And you must be Ariana, Master Owens' prized student.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ariana replied, shaking Banar's hand. She stepped back then, admiring Kyle's boots once more. “Can I try them?” she asked. Master Owens frowned.
“Perhaps later,” he stated. “We have a lot of ground to cover today.”
“Yes Master Owens,” Ariana murmured. But she turned to give Kyle a peculiar look, and he knew what that meant...he was going to teach her how to use the boots later that night, whether he wanted to or not. He certainly didn't mind; any excuse to spend time with her was more than welcome. She had a peculiar power over him, such that any time he was around her, he felt a marvelous giddiness come over him.
He sighed then, suddenly gripped with an anxious desire to be alone with her. If only there was a magical pattern for speeding up time, so he could fast-forward to tonight! Unfortunately, no new patterns had been discovered since Ancient times, so Kyle w
ould have to wait.
“Hey Master Banar,” he asked suddenly. “Why hasn't anyone discovered any new patterns?” The fact that people had been using the same patterns for centuries, never daring to experiment to find new patterns, baffled Kyle.
“Well, it's dangerous to try new patterns,” Master Banar began. “More than a few Weavers and Runics have died...or suffered terrible injuries...attempting it. There's no way to predict what a particular pattern will do until it's woven. A few brave scholars have tried it, and none have lived long enough to produce more than a pattern or two.” He smiled ruefully. “It's a pretty messy way to get into the history books.”
“What about magical animals and plants?” Kyle pressed. “They must weave patterns to make their magic, right?”
“True,” his instructor conceded. “Nature employs a remarkable variety of patterns,” he added. “The Ancients knew of some of them, but unfortunately, most magical patterns have been lost to history.” Kyle frowned.
“How did they figure out all these patterns?” he pressed. Master Banar glanced at Master Owens, who shrugged.
“No one knows, Kyle,” he answered. “We may never know.”
Kyle lowered his gaze to the grass below, continuing to frown. Then an idea struck him.
“Wait,” he exclaimed. “Couldn't you figure out what animals and plants were doing by making sensory runes?”
“What do you mean?” Banar asked.
“Well,” Kyle explained, “...Kalibar had glasses that lit up whenever a particular pattern was woven. What if you made a bunch of random patterns – as sensory runes – and made a plant weave a pattern...if you had hundreds of random sensory runes, maybe one particular rune would be triggered, and light up. That way, you could figure out what pattern the plant was weaving.”