Welcome To The Age of Magic

by C M Raymond et al.

  “Since nothing found us after that yell,” Donnon said, finally breaking the silence, “I think that means we’re in the clear, for now. It’s best if we get some sleep.”

  Alastar opened his mouth to protest, but Rhona had nodded and started following Donnon to look for a place to lie down, so he figured he should keep his mouth shut for now. If there were any problems, they certainly would be better able to face them when rested.

  When they were lying down in a side chamber, well hidden from the main tunnels by staggered walls, Alastar found a spot closest to the entrance and turned to the others.

  “I’ll take the first watch.”

  Rhona pursed her lips and said, “Don’t trust me now that I’m one of them?”

  “Them?”

  “You know, an evil witch.” Rhona smirked, but leaned back and let him take the watch.

  Alastar stared after her and then made eye contact with Donnon before returning to his spot. He stared at the carved-out walls, contemplating this whole argument of good versus evil. What was evil, anyway? The Age of Madness had certainly brought a whole new kind of evil upon the world, one that hadn’t existed before. How could it have? The entire world would have been consumed if that hadn’t been put down. No one knew exactly what had happened. They knew that Saint Rodrick, though he hadn’t been a saint at the time, had led the charge, securing old keeps and buildings from the time before for everyone to hunker down in. Then he had led a great charge against the men and women who had become monsters in the Age of Madness.

  Out west, to Sair Talem.

  If he had succeeded but fallen along the way, that’s where his sword, the Sword of Light, would be. Everyone had thought him lost for some time. Then the Age of Madness had come to an end, and they all knew in their heart of hearts that it had been Rodrick’s doing. He was named a saint, and the Order of Rodrick had been founded.

  With so many years having passed between Rodrick setting off on his quest and the completion of the Age of Madness, could it be possible that he actually had nothing to do with it at all? That his sainthood was falsely awarded?

  Such thoughts were strictly punished back under the rule of the High Paladin. Blasphemy, they would say. But now that Alastar was out here, giving his mind free reign, he had to wonder if it all didn’t add up.

  Even the argument about what he did, with the light and the blessings, made him wonder. If his blessings really were magic, then he was no better than all those men and women the Order of Rodrick had fought to persecute.

  The idea that he had supported a system so wrong and corrupt made believing this could be possible incredibly difficult.

  However, when he considered the fact that he, too, lost energy after a blessing, just like the others with their magic, he had to wonder.

  He felt his head rolling and caught himself, eyes half-closed. Damn, he hadn’t counted on being this tired. It was strange, he had to admit, how his healing could heal his physical body, but would always leave some amount of exhaustion behind. It was a different kind of exhaustion, too. His body and mind could be totally healthy and alert, while a part of him felt completely drained. His soul, maybe?

  Again, his eyes closed. This time, he pushed himself up and shook out his limbs to get the blood flowing.

  He yawned and turned back to the other two, then froze. Rhona slept beside Donnon, but had just rolled over and put her arm over his chest. Was it a conscious act? He couldn’t be sure.

  Cautiously, so as not to wake them, he tiptoed over and knelt beside the two, reaching out gingerly to lift her arm and put it back at her side.

  A grunt came from her, and then she put her arm back around him and even cozied up to him this time.

  Alastar frowned. He was about to intervene again when he looked up and saw Donnon’s eyes open. The man took in the situation, saw Alastar kneeling there, and then smiled and raised an eyebrow. It was like he was daring Alastar to do something about it!

  Frustration caused Alastar to instinctively clench his fists, but it wasn’t like he could really start a fight over something his sister had started in her sleep. This guy was being an arse, but otherwise, he was likely to be their only help going forward.

  So instead, Alastar said, “Your watch.”

  “So soon?” Donnon asked, but was already moving Rhona’s arm and sitting up to take the watch.

  As he went over to the entrance, Alastar said, “I’m watching you, just remember that.”

  “Odd, considering the fact that we’re supposed to be watching for intruders.”

  “Maybe that’s exactly what you are.” The words came out before Alastar had time to think about them, but he stared, not backing down.

  Donnon laughed with a shake of his head. “Your sister hasn’t taken the same oaths you have, paladin. It would do her some good if you were to remember this.”

  “And you think she would settle for a clansman?”

  “I think she’ll do as she pleases, regardless of your own prejudices.”

  There wasn’t much he could say to that, so Alastar took a spot beside his sister. He made sure he was far enough away that her arm couldn’t find him if it had a life of its own, and then allowed his eyes to close.

  While he hadn’t ever really cared for the idea of romance, he found his sleep-filled mind fogging over with thoughts he had never had before. Whether she was joking or not, Estair had gotten under his skin with her comments. But it was more than that. She had also pulled at his interest with side glances, the hint of a smile, and simply the way she walked.

  Everything within told Alastar to pay the price for these thoughts, to focus on his duty to the Order. The skin was a distraction, nothing more.

  Well, everything except a very logical part of his brain that started as a hushed pulse somewhere in the darkness and grew louder and louder, and soon seemed to be screaming at him—those days are gone!

  How could they really be, though? Duty and honor had always been a part of him, for as far back as he could remember. As he thought about it, his mind swirling with the night and pulling him out of consciousness, he considered that maybe his duty was just being redirected. Duty to the land, duty to its people.

  Duty to his sister, and any magic user out there who might be wrongly accused.

  He would put a stop to those sorcerers, as that was an immediate peril. And then? Well, then he would have to confront the Order of Rodrick and any others in the lowlands who held similar beliefs about magic users.

  Then, and only then, he told himself, would he be allowed to consider a woman in the way he had been considering Estair.

  With that thought, finally, sleep took him.

  13

  Rhona awoke to hushed whispers between the two men, but they stopped talking as soon as they noticed that she was awake. The first emotion she felt was annoyance that they had apparently let her sleep the longest and not given her a chance to stand watch. Second, in spite of the worry in Donnon’s eyes, he seemed to have a hidden smile in there, as if he knew of some deep secret she didn’t.

  Her mind rushed back to the evening before, to falling asleep at his side, each sharing a comforting look and a nod that seemed to convey they both agreed that her brother could be a pain.

  And yeah, she’d felt a flutter in her chest, but she hadn’t told him about it or accepted the kiss she suspected he wanted to give her, based on the look in his eyes as they moved to her lips.

  What had him all worked up?

  She stood and smoothed out her clothes. The strong scent of sweat and dried blood was strong in the room, and her balance was off due to a slight ache in one ear. She reached up to smooth out her hair, only to find it in complete disarray.

  “What is it?” she asked the two as she approached, blinking and doing her best not to wobble.

  “Maybe nothing, maybe something,” Donnon whispered.

  “What Mr. Cryptic here means,” Alastar said, also keeping his voice low, “is that we heard scuffling, like fe
et on dirt, and thought we might have even heard whispers.”

  “Maybe you need more sleep,” she hissed, not addressing her comment specifically to either one of them.

  Alastar shrugged, then motioned for silence with a finger to his lips.

  Slightly annoyed that they couldn’t address her complaints at the moment, but even more pissed at the fact that she wanted a nice bath and knew that she wasn’t likely to get it in the near future, she closed her eyes to connect with the shadows.

  There was indeed something out there.

  “I sense them,” she said, eyes still closed. It wasn’t like she could see them, but she felt the shadows moving around her like a great lake of darkness. Something was definitely causing a ripple.

  “How many?” Alastar asked.

  “Not enough to piss your pants over,” she replied, then opened her eyes to see him glaring. “Sorry, still waking up. I’m not used to this, so can’t be sure. If I had to guess, I’d say a handful.”

  “Five or six we can take,” Donnon said. “As long as they aren’t the sorcerers, that is.”

  Alastar nodded and reached over to smooth out his sister’s hair. “Let’s get moving, but be at the ready.”

  She swatted his hand away, smoothed out her hair herself, and said, “I’m not sure how my appearance changes the fight at all.”

  “Actually…” Alastar pulled back, assessing her with a smirk. “We might want to keep the crazy witch look. Could scare them off.”

  “Personally, I like it,” Donnon offered. “Makes you look…”

  “Intimidating?” She teased her hair, so it stood out even more.

  “I was going to say wild.”

  The look of annoyance that flashed across Alastar’s face was hard to miss, but she ignored it. “Clansmen like their women wild, do they?”

  “Aye. We want women that can keep up with us or lead the way. Not subservient cows like in the lowlands.”

  “Our women are not cows,” Alastar said, his frustration growing.

  “Clearly,” Donnon replied with a wink Rhona’s way.

  She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help blushing. Hopefully, it wasn’t noticeable in the dark tunnels.

  “If this little flirt session is over, maybe we can get moving before whatever’s out there catches us off-guard?” Alastar leaned out into the passage, glancing both ways, and then motioned for them to follow. “Quickly and quietly.”

  “I wouldn’t know how to do either,” Donnon said with a chuckle.

  “You test me, warlock.” Alastar turned, finger in the man’s face. “Continue to do so, and we’ll have a problem.”

  Donnon sneered as if he’d like to see that happen, but nodded and walked past Alastar, taking the lead.

  “He’s just having a bit of fun,” Rhona hissed as she passed.

  “That man has his eyes on you.”

  “And as I’ve said before, that’s none of your business.”

  She could tell the words got to him, but that had been her intent. While he had helped raise her and had always been there for her, it was time he learned that she was a grown woman, even if just barely. She could make her own decisions, and accept a little flirting from an attractive man with a beard if she damn well pleased.

  Plus, she found herself wondering about Donnon’s comment now, and what it would actually be like to be with a clansman. Her whole life she had been told they were evil, capable of unspeakable things if they found a woman alone at night. Donnon didn’t seem so bad, and definitely didn’t live up to the horror stories. She wondered if his beard would tickle her inner thighs, and what his gruff voice would sound like when he moaned.

  Her one experience with a man had been quite the odd one, she thought as the three made their way down dark tunnels, only lit by a faint glow from her brother. One night in the castle, she had been finishing her bath when Sir Taland had entered. He wasn’t supposed to be in the women’s bathing chambers, but he stood there, leaning against the doorway, simply watching her.

  At the time, she had been more curious than offended, and had simply turned and stood, facing him as the water dripped from her nude form. He had licked his lips and brushed his long, blond hair behind his ear as he approached, then guided her to sit at the edge of the bath. Before she knew it, he was kneeling before her, and his tongue was giving her unknown pleasures.

  It had been a brief encounter, one she had never experienced before nor since, and never discussed with anyone. When it was over, he had simply turned away, ashamed, and asked that she never let word of that escape, or he would lose his seat as a paladin.

  How many nights had she lain awake in her night robes, staring at the door and wondering, no, hoping he would return?

  But it never happened again, and he purposefully avoided her gaze at all dinners and elsewhere.

  Now, she found those same urges returning as she watched the dark form of Donnon walking ahead. His broad shoulders took up most of the hall, and she wondered if, somehow the two of them were ever to be interlocked in ecstasy, would their magic burst forth as they lost control?

  It was almost a humorous thought, and she couldn’t help but snicker silently. Apparently, Donnon heard because he slowed enough to glance back at her with a raised eyebrow.

  “Everything good?” he asked.

  She just bit her lip and walked past him, taking the lead. Instantly, she regretted the action, because now she kept imagining he was staring at her rear as she walked.

  Then again, maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

  A swoosh sounded, and the shadows seemed to sway in warning, a subconscious call upon her magic, she imagined, and ducked. With a clatter, an arrow hit the wall nearby.

  “There!” she said, pointing in the direction it had come from.

  Before either of the others could react, a piercing shout rang through the tunnels, and a second later a spear glinted in Alastar’s glow. Donnon appeared, knocking the spear aside and then kicking at a remnant’s knee so that it busted. He spun and elbowed the remnant in the head before wrapping his arm around its neck and throwing it over his hip. When it thudded to the ground, he was quick to maneuver around it and snap the bastard’s neck.

  Alastar’s sword clanged against that of another, and then two more remnant were on top of them as Donnon snatched up the spear and joined the fight to push them back.

  While Alastar was fast with his sword, more than once the tight confines of the tunnel worked against him.

  One of the remnant nearly landed a blow to his head with its battleax, but Donnon was at his side a moment later, skewering the remnant and snatching the ax out of the air as it fell.

  “Now, this is more like it!” he bellowed, and turned back to press the attack.

  Rhona closed her eyes, considering the risk of letting the darkness in, letting it carry her forward to join in the fight.

  She opened her eyes to see Alastar there, shaking his head.

  “Save your energy, we’ve got this.”

  He turned to join the fight and, sure enough, within seconds they had taken out the remnant, and the way was clear.

  Their heavy breathing filled the darkness and Alastar turned with a smile. Except, another ripple came from the shadows. Something moving away, and fast.

  “A scout,” she said, pointing. “He’s gone to warn the others.”

  “Well, spirits curse them!” Donnon shouted, tightly gripping his new ax and preparing to run.

  Alastar held up a hand, stopping him, and then motioned to Rhona. “Now would be an okay time to pull on those powers of yours… if you think you can handle it?”

  Her chest felt heavy with worry, but she closed her eyes and focused.

  The ripples became a wave, and then it was like she was at one with the shadows. A form was moving, his breaths raspy and heavy, his stench thick and putrid, so that when she engulfed him, and he fell to the floor, suffocating, it was almost too much for her to keep the connection. Shadows twisted and tur
ned around the man, pressing in on him. Then, with a shout mixed with anger and excitement, she pushed so that the shadows simply took him.

  He was gone.

  She returned to see her brother and stumbled, but it was Donnon who caught her.

  “Is he…?”

  She blinked, trying to figure out what had just happened, but then nodded. “Gone.” Donnon’s arms felt comforting, and she was glad he didn’t let go, as her head was spinning.

  Still, she found herself feeling better quickly, and wondered if maybe focusing her energy on one person like that instead of multiple took less out of her. Alastar held up his hands and looked about to pray for a blessing of healing, but she shook her head. “Save your energy.”

  He was surprised, but nodded and was about to lead the way onwards when he looked back at Donnon and frowned.

  “Right,” Donnon said with a laugh as he stepped back, and only then did Rhona realize that the man still had his arm around her. “Just being cautious.”

  “Sure you are.” Alastar took off without another look back.

  Rhona followed close behind, not wanting Donnon to see her smile. If she was being honest with herself, she liked the attention. That didn’t mean she needed to let him know that.

  While she was admitting stuff to herself, she realized she actually liked this shadow magic. This power was unlike anything she had ever felt in life. So many days growing up had been spent looking out from the castle ramparts at the paladins training below, admiring the blessings they were able to pull down with their so-called prayers.

  Now she knew that it had all just been magic, even if her brother wasn’t ready to admit it. His light magic combined with her shadow magic. It got her thinking, wondering how powerful the two could be if they set their minds to it—well, if Alastar ever accepted his powers for what they were.

  A howl sounded in the tunnels behind them, and Alastar turned, casting a soft glow back that way. His sword lit up as he prayed, and he said, “More scouts, likely. They won’t know which way we went, so we might luck out. But we’d best hurry.”