Knight: Tracks of Darkness

by Dave Devine

there watching all of it with the order of the Numerii beside me. Many of them watched in silence, but a few wept openly. We agreed to a momentary truce in order to witness history. These deadly, ancient Aegeans were, after all, Wizard Kind, and it pained them to see their own people come to such a terrible end.

  But somewhere on the battlefield, the baby who would someday be called Methègama, survived. I decided that the best way to draw the Numerii away from Methègama and destroy them was to continue my search for the original copy of Knight: Tracks of Darkness. This time I had fifteen more years to locate it. The designs they had for the book were still unknown to me and I had no idea who their master was. I had to learn more about the enemy—as much as I could gather.

  My goals for the next fifteen years were three fold: locate the book, destroy any others who wanted it, and protect the man who had the power to close the fringe for us.

  Thankfully, the King and Queen of Aegea erected a tower at Hope’s Point before they died and placed the baby in there, locking him away with powerful magic. I don’t know what sort of magic went into the tower’s construction, but the magic was undeniably powerful.

  I went there first and studied its walls. It was like a lighthouse made of alabaster and onyx and other metals. It was capped with a dome made of gold. The walls were carved with wondrous statues that I suspected would rise and attack if I drew any closer. The tower was nearly impenetrable but for a small balcony on the fifth story that moved, blurred and often disappeared.

  As I went about my business, the young boy and I made a habit of visiting the placid shores every year to watch the tower and study it. I noticed that there were others who did the same. Could these other visitors have been the remnant of the Aegean people? I never dared approach the other visitors. One summer, I thought I spotted a man who walked on his fours, but he left me alone with my thoughts. On the fifth year, I thought I heard a boy laughing inside. He was alive; he was safe, and nobody could harm him while he was in that tower.

  That night, the boy who rescued me from Zambaur recited the words of the prophecy concerning Methègama written in the Loreshare:

  ‘Fear the tower for in her womb, she raises the power who fashions our tomb, whose praises are sung in angelic tongues, his mercy prolonged where his justice belonged. And then shall it be that the end cometh nigh, end of man whets his sword that he raises on high, a beacon of light as a savior he’ll be, though a herald of woe unto thou, unto me.’’

  Content with the knowledge that the boy was fine (and we were all inevitably doomed), I set out to locate the book. Its last known location was in Aredea, but after the Great Eos War, the magical isles of Aegea drifted away and they were lost. I briefly entertained the idea of revisiting Zambaur to search for clues, but I did not like the idea of making the same mistake twice. I avoided our city of Weal for obvious reasons. I did not want to run into my younger self and interfere with the important work she was doing for both the university and for the city’s poor.

  With the Numerii on my heels, pursuing me at every turn, I decided to travel east to the Temple-Kingdom of Hildreth. My plan was to traverse the fringe and scour the dreams and nightmares of our people for some clue as to the book’s whereabouts. I fled from one small village or town to another along the way; the Numerii avoided large gatherings of people, so I was only in danger between towns.

  At Doehaven, I met an eccentric merchant named Lucre Pendragon who ran a small shop on the outskirts of town. He was struggling to make ends meet, selling charms and trinkets. I decided, on a whim, to sponsor and fund this man’s business. We became fast friends and after a year in town, he amassed a sizeable business. It did not occur to me that I should not have been able to interact with this man. Lucre and I bought a three story house in the center of Doehaven where he founded Lucre Pendragon’s Adventure Outfitters.

  Pendragon expanded his inventory to weapons, armor, and all manner of rings and necklaces that he claimed were enchanted. Children were fascinated with his store, and after enough pestering a parent will buy anything to keep their children momentarily subdued or distracted. Pendragon’s store provided an excellent cover for my work.

  I studied the enemy by reading and watching them from afar. There were seven of them in all. They were ranked in order of power, and also according to Esoteric Law. They adopted names from history and legend’s greatest enemies.

  They were skilled in infiltrating a country’s power structure, sowing intrigue and reaping treachery. But I sensed that the Numerii were growing impatient with me, and they were willing to resort to murder. Citizens of Doehaven were dying mysteriously. Every night, the Numerii conjured a thick mist in the town. One or two of them infiltrated Doehaven’s merchant government along with their city guard. I feared for Pendragon’s life and the livelihood of other townsfolk.

  It was time to flee again.

  After spending a year in Doehaven, I said farewell to Lucre Pendragon and sped north to the town of Widows. Widows, as we know, was founded by the families of those who were incarcerated at the Prison Kingdom of Zambaur. It is a sprawling, prosperous town sitting on the outskirts of the Warden King’s country. I settled in as a merchant and purchased a license to set up another Lucre Pendragon’s Adventure Outfitters store. I staffed my shop with the poorest of the poor in Widows, and for that reason alone, I was accepted and greatly admired. I organized and trained the town guard.

  Again, how was I able to do any of this? I thought I could only interact with other spectators. I began to wonder if, perhaps this was all part of the grand design, and I was truly given a second chance to do all the things I left undone.

  But the Numerii followed.

  One night at Widows, while I sat in fear of the Numerii, several members of my staff visited me and asked me to follow them to a cave outside of town. There were people there squatting in cots. One torch was lit after another, and in that cave I counted over one hundred people. I looked into their eyes and saw that they were wizards. Aegeans!

  I inquired after the original copy of Knight: Tracks of Darkness, and to my delight, they claimed to know where it was hidden! But they needed me to do something for them. I followed them deeper into the cave. I heard a child squealing in the dark. That night, I met the last surviving minnietaur conjuror, the last lord of Engodde. His name was Edguard Salvathor. I held the boy in my arms and, to my surprise, he stopped crying. “You need to keep him safe,” their leader said. “The book is with—“

  Then, the Numerii attacked. They summoned a thick mist and fought with fire and guile and the sword. Every Aegean in that cave died in order to ensure my escape with Edguard. I was on the run again, crossing the bridge over the river Epstet. I raced into Hildreth country, where the reality of the fringe was a daily affair. I hid for years along a string of small fishing villages along the Epstet. In Hildreth country, walking around with a minnietaur was no stranger than the nightmares that walked the land; nobody gave us so much as a passing glance. Edguard and I lived for a while as mother and son, and for a time, we were glad.

  But with the last lord of Engodde under my care, I inherited new enemies. They were wealthy, noble and influential. Unlike the Numerii, they lived and thrived in the public sphere, among the people. They basked in their self importance. The Numerii contacted these nobles and arranged to have a bounty set up for my capture. All the great houses of Weal sent their best to seek me and capture me. But few were courageous enough to pursue me into the fringe. Every week, we ventured deeper into Nür to search for the book. We left empty handed, but the many dangers and the constant threat of death made us stronger.

  After years of evading assassins and searching for the book, I finally gave up and took Edguard to the gates of the Temple-Kingdom of Hildreth. We met a priestess warrior named Cesylvia and her sister, Nichloe. They offered to take Edguard in to protect him. I stood there and despaired. I realized that I could not protect this child on my own. Who better to keep him safe than these capable w
omen who were born with swords in their hands? Edguard struggled and wept when I reluctantly handed him over to Cesylvia.

  I realized too late that I made yet another mistake. Cesylvia turned aside, and a large man named Elder Commander Pau took the young lord of Engodde and clasped him in chains. “He will make an excellent slave,” the man said, rubbing his hands. I rushed forward and attacked, but Cesylvia and Nichloe drew their swords, defended the bloated noble, and left me for dead in front of their gates. With half-lidded eyes, I saw the Numerii moving swiftly like dark shadows, advancing toward me with sinister glee.

  Fruitless Success.

  What happened next is still difficult for me to understand. The Numerii surrounded me in a wide arc; it began to rain. I watched them stand there in their dark robes; their faces were obscured and difficult to make out. They were like wolves closing in on an easy kill.

  “Who will do the honors?” A man asked.

  A woman said, “Let Jerzrahm have her.”

  A shorter member of the Numerii with horns protruding from his hood rubbed his hands together. “Give her to me, master! I can pair her with a fine wine.”

  “No, Drawd-ur! She will not be eaten. We need to