“I am High Priestess Hy’ria of the Holy Elven Empire … I would say it is a pleasure, but I expected to see the faces of my own people standing before me,” Hy’ria greeted calmly.
“Why would you expect to see your own people?” Valon asked with great curiosity.
Hy’ria took a deep breath and glanced back at the hourglass. Barely a tenth of it had fallen below so far. It was apparent the timer meant something to her.
“They were supposed to come get me after the city fell … Tell me, what year is it to your people? Have you any idea?” Hy’ria asked.
The six humans looked at each other, not knowing what to say. None of the clans had kept time in any true way. They hadn’t had a real point to, and Valon had no response for the elf besides an excuse.
“We haven’t quite kept time in the way you would. It has been probably close to two hundred years since our Great Clan fell. As for your people, we only just found out you even existed within the past week. Your city above has begun to be reclaimed by the land itself…” Valon answered, knowing she wouldn’t want to hear it.
“Great Clan? Your people … unified?” Hy’ria asked with surprise.
“They did for over a hundred years, until the Shadowalkers fragmented them apart,” Seer Mordou answered with equal surprise.
“Shadowalkers? Do you perhaps mean them?” Hy’ria asked, pointing towards the black armored warriors painted on the ceiling.
“That we do not know. They disappeared around the same time the Great Clan fell apart. We only have record that they could disappear into the shadows and were a cruel foe,” Valon cut in.
“Then it seems we fought the same enemy. I only wonder why they let you live, or what drew their attention away…” Hy’ria replied.
Valon watched as Hy’ria glanced back at the ever-moving hourglass. Her long ears flinched as she watched the sand pour down. It bothered her greatly.
“What is that hourglass, er, ma’am?” Goreth fumbled.
“That is the timer until my death,” Hy’ria replied with a grim, partially defeated smile.
“Your death? But how?” Valon asked startled by the news.
“You see, it started with the elves you call Shadowalkers. I do not have time to explain our past, but they attacked this city with the intent to slay us all. I was the High Priestess of this city, which we called Ruol. An assassin plunged his blade into me, but my dutiful priests managed to find a way to save me. They sealed me in here, the Mausoleum of Saints, with magic keeping my body alive until our people returned with someone strong enough to save me,” Hy’ria explained, revealing a magically sealed wound in her chest.
“No … You mean, by opening your casket we have doomed you?” Seer Mordou asked, looking sick.
“Theoretically, yes. You do not have the magic to save me. However, based on how much time has passed I do not believe anyone was ever going to come for me. If anything, you have done me a favor, and now my spirit may pass onto the next life instead of remaining here in limbo for as long as magic flows,” Hy’ria explained, coming to the realization.
There was an awkward silence, and nobody spoke. Valon felt his heart drop as he realized the old elf would soon perish. He could tell that Hy’ria hadn’t fully come to terms with her fate and was disappointed her people had never come. Now it wouldn’t be long until she faded away.
“Regardless, I am sorry Hy’ria … We all are. We had no idea. We are only here for magic to help us,” Seer Mordou apologized.
“In your fight against the Shadowalkers?” Hy’ria asked.
“No. In our fight against the Horrors, against Xerannu,” Seer Mordou answered.
“Xerannu? I have never heard that name before. What sort of being is he?” Hy’ria asked, again glancing at the hourglass.
“We have not yet seen him, only his spawned Horrors. They infest our land, taking over all life and binding it to his will. We believe he controls them all, and comes from a portal from another realm,” Seer Mordou explained.
As he mentioned the portal, Valon noticed the elf’s eyes go wide. In fact, she looked horrified at the description. She quickly recovered and tried to compose herself.
“That worries me greatly. Is the portal west? What sort of magic does this Xerannu use?” Hy’ria questioned.
“Yes, it is. But what do you mean sort of magic?” Seer Mordou asked, not understanding the question.
“Sort of magic?” Valon asked aloud.
“Yes! What … essence of magic? Primordial? Holy? Unholy? Biotic? Which of the four is predominantly his style?” Hy’ria asked impatiently, knowing her time was nearing.
“What? Essence? I am not sure what you mean,” Seer Mordou replied, flabbergasted.
“You use farsight to look forward in time but do not know of the basic essences of the flows of magic? You humans always fascinated me. Such primal, yet complex beings,” Hy’ria chuckled grimly as she shook her head. “Seer, the flows of magic around us consist of those four kinds of essence.”
“I-I … I’ve never heard such a thing,” Seer Mordou choked, looking defeated.
“None of us have,” Valon added, putting a hand on his master’s shoulder.
“My, my … Fresh slates. I wish I had the time to teach you, but alas I do not. You people have been using primordial magic, the most basic yet still very useful magic of the flows. We mainly use holy magic, the most powerful and useful magic that exists. The Shadowalkers disagree and use a wretched form of magic we only call unholy. Then, there exists biotic magic, that is the magic of life, nature, and druids that spend far too much time in the forests,” Hy’ria explained as if speaking to children. “The colors are usually a dead giveaway.”
“Colors? Like how magic is blue?” Valon asked, trying hard to follow.
“Correct. Holy appears gold, unholy red, and biotic green. Of course, that can vary, and they can overlap, but typically that is what you see when magic interacts with the world around it,” Hy’ria explained.
Valon was beginning to understand, but it was unlike anything had ever learned. None of his texts had mentioned anything beyond colors of magic, but he had assumed that existed for detailing purposes only. He stared at her. Hy’ria noticed the group’s confusion and rubbed her temple as if she had a headache.
“Okay, well, er, Xerannu and the Horror magic appears red, although there is some green too. Mainly red, however,” Seer Mordou rambled, trying to make sense of it all.
“Unholy and biotic? How disturbing. You may have primordial magic, but you will need holy magic if you are to save your people,” Hy’ria replied, staring off into the distance again.
“So how do we get holy magic, High Priestess? How do we use it?” Valon asked.
“Through years and years of dedicated training under a priestess,” Hy’ria chuckled darkly, shaking her head.
“But we don’t have time,” Garon said from behind Valon.
“No, there must be some other way,” Seer Mordou agreed, looking at Hy’ria for answers.
Anna watched as the elf stared at the hourglass, now half of it gone. She seemed visibly more fatigued than when she had emerged, as if her body was fading. As Hy’ria turned back, she had a look of satisfaction, fear, and accomplishment on her face.
“There is. I can imbue my power into all of you and give you the holy strength needed to cleanse your land of this pestilence,” Hy’ria murmured, knowing what it meant.
“Then I must ask this of you, Hy’ria, otherwise our people will all die!” Seer Mordou urged, taking a step toward the elf.
“I will not survive the ritual, but perhaps it is the best use of my power in my final moments. Please, give me a moment, and ready yourselves for a great change,” Hy’ria said quietly, turning and walking toward the statue holding the hourglass.
Hy’ria’s words made Valon feel almost guilty, noting the acceptance of death in the old elf’s words. Whether she gave them all her power or not, she was still going to die. Regardless, he knew
it wasn’t an easy thing to accept. Her death was imminent.
“Valon,” Seer Mordou began, placing his hands on his apprentice’s shoulders and staring into his eyes.
“Master?” Valon asked, ever at the ready.
“It is time,” Seer Mordou uttered with confidence.
“So it finally is…” Valon began, his eyes shifting from intrigue to focus. “What must I do, Master?”
“Simply prepare yourself. I do not know what her holy magic will do to us, so I must give you farsight now. It is a simple and quick process but will likely leave you stunned momentarily. After this, you will lead the Ancient Clan, and I will no longer be your master,” Seer Mordou answered with a satisfied smile. “After this, you will likely be the most powerful human mage alive.”
Valon nodded, wondering what the process would entail. He knew there was no way to really prepare, to imagine what he would experience. However, his nature was to try to ready himself for whatever came. As he looked at his master, Valon knew he would have to trust him.
“Then I am ready, Master,” Valon answered confidently.
The others each took a few steps back from the mages, having no idea what was going to happen. Anna and Garon spoke quietly amongst themselves, neither taking their eyes off the master and apprentice. Becca and Goreth did the same, but their hands had bumped into each other and they now loosely held each other’s fingers.
“Then let us not delay. Keep your eyes open for a moment,” Seer Mordou grinned, ignoring the rest of the group.
Valon watched as his master’s glowing left eye stared into him, as if reaching into his soul. Then, suddenly, he watched the magic within his master burst forth and strike his eyes. It wasn’t a painful thing, but it did contain a magic power that was rivaled by nothing Valon had ever encountered.
Time warped as a powerful, ancient magic flowed through Valon’s entire being. His normal vision disappeared, and he found visions of his life flowing before him, all around him. He did not panic as his entire reality cracked and reformed around him, seeing familiar things flashing before him—spraining his ankle as a young boy, being selected to train under Seer Mordou, accidentally blowing a hole in his home practicing magic, his first kiss with Lora Fenn, his final birthday as he reached adulthood, so many memories flashed before his eyes. He smiled at the memories, both good and bad, gaining an innate understanding of how time and magic reacted with each other. He was magically and spiritually no longer in the mausoleum.
As his memories continued, he noticed they increased in speed, almost becoming a blur. He tried to maintain his mental acuity, to not panic, but as the blur increased, he did find the overwhelming visions much to handle. He began to breath quicker, having to kneel on the unseen ground to stabilize himself.
He briefly saw the portal, then the Narsho village, his father, a strange land made of sand and odd-looking mountains, short men, green creatures, destruction, reconstruction, and a sprawling city of stone and metal. Then the future before him increased to an incomprehensible speed, and he was unable to distinguish anything.
Valon held his head, feeling as though reality itself was trying to expel him from existence, as if he were an unwelcome guest. Just before he reached a point of panic, he heard his master’s voice from somewhere far away; he remembered his training, his master’s confidence in him, and the future that still needed him. Valon gritted his teeth and slowly stood back up, filled with determination and purpose. As the magic flowed through his entire being, Valon stood fast. He did not waver as cosmic forces beyond his true understanding imbued themselves within him.
Then, without warning, the visions stopped, and nothing but darkness followed. He looked all around, seeing nothing but an absolute void. He then realized it was cold, far colder than anything he had ever felt. He shivered, freezing, but did not give up. As the darkness engulfed him, Valon stayed strong, ready for whatever came next. For the briefest of moments, he thought he felt a presence with them. Then, as fast as it had begun, it faded away.
The world around him slowly reappeared in a haze of color and light. The first thing he noticed was Seer Mordou standing before him, having not moved the entire time. As his former master removed his hands from Valon’s shoulders, the flaming blue light in his eye dwindled, leaving nothing but a thin layer of blue.
Valon immediately noticed he felt stronger in all aspects, feeling an even more powerful connection with magic. He felt the presence of magic with him, and he could sense nearby sources with absolute ease. He had never felt so sharp in his entire life.
As he looked around at his companions, he saw they were staring at him with great curiosity. In fact, he noticed Goreth’s mouth was almost wide open in surprise. It took a moment before he found the words to speak.
“Master? Is it finished?” Seer Valon slowly asked.
“It is, but I am no longer your master. You are now the Seer of the Ancient Clan. I may still be a Seer, however you are The Seer. But, Valon, something has gone rather … differently from when I was given the ability,” Seer Mordou began, more intrigued than worried.
“His eye…” Anna mumbled from behind Seer Mordou.
“My eye? Does it glow blue now?” Valon asked, holding out his hand in front of him but not seeing anything.
“Er, it glows, but it glows gold like this supposed holy magic, not blue,” Seer Mordou answered, scratching his chin as he stared at his former apprentice.
Hy’ria laughed from behind Valon as she walked back to the humans. He turned to see her with a tall, silver staff. She shook her head, seeming to laugh directly at them.
“What has happened, High Priestess?” Seer Mordou asked firmly yet respectfully.
“Oh, you humans never cease to surprise me. Seers, the holy magic that emanates here is immense. Not only is my power radiating to you, but this entire city was constructed on a flowline. Holy magic is strong here, the strongest of this continent. Farsight, as you have just given it, draws from whatever magic is nearby. Yes, it is primordial in nature, but can and has been imbued with holy as well. That is why your eye now glows gold, for holy magic has been mixed into the power Seer Mordou has given you, which if anything is beneficial,” Hy’ria explained almost mockingly.
“I-I see,” Valon said, staring down at his empty hands, unsure of what this new information meant.
“I will acknowledge the quality of training you must have been given in order to achieve farsight at such a young age and not instantly fall to the flows of magic,” Hy’ria admitted with a small smile. “You humans do surprise me.”
“Young age? He is over thirty years old!” Seer Mordou scoffed.
“Yes, and had I pursued farsight in my long life, I would have not done so before my one hundred and twentieth birthday. Succumbing to that sort of insanity is one of the worst ways to go. Now speaking of time, I am running short of it. If you humans are ready, I will give you all the last of my power. I cannot quite control how much goes to whom given the time, but you will all have the holy strength you will need to fight your new enemy. Now, shall we begin?” Hy’ria asked, hitting her silver staff on the ground.
The humans looked at each other, some more nervous than others. Anna hesitantly rubbed her stomach, looking concerned for obvious reasons. However, none of them stepped back or turned away, all ready to fulfill their roles.
“I believe we are,” Seer Mordou responded, briefly looking at everyone else.
“Good. I want you, Seer Valon, to have my staff after I pass on,” Hy’ria explained.
“Your staff? I would be honored,” Valon nodded respectfully.
“It will enhance your magic greatly. Not only that, but it has enough power to fracture the flows of magic and create a portal one last time. Use it wisely,” Hy’ria insisted, practically pushing the silver staff into Valon’s hands.
“Incredible … We shall be in your debt, High Priestess,” Valon thanked.
“As long as you embrace all that the holy flow of magi
c has to offer, you need not be indebted. Now come, all of you hold hands and form a circle,” Hy’ria urged, holding out her withered hands.
Valon set the staff gently on the ground and took her hand. Seer Mordou took the other of the old elf’s hands, and the other humans stepped in and completed the circle. Before anyone could speak, holy magic began to radiate from the high priestess.
The powerful, ancient magic surged through the arms and bodies of the new Champions, each of them reacting to the efflux of power differently. As it continued, a gold pool of magic formed between them, the source being the fading elf.
Valon could feel his great power continue to grow, and the knowledge of new spells flowed into his mind. He looked over to see his master keeping a monotonous face, his blue eye pulsating gold. The other humans looked stunned, feeling a sensation they had never remotely felt before. Valon only hoped their lack of training wouldn’t cause them to suffer, though he doubted it, as the embrace of the holy magic felt warm, understanding, and almost a sentient force on its own.
Valon felt Hy’ria’s grip loosening, and he looked over to see her eyes had closed. As if fate itself suddenly converged, the hourglass had emptied the moment she completed her ritual, and Hy’ria left their realm. As her body went limp, Valon kneeled to catch her.
She felt light in his arms, and her look of disappointment and confusion had been replaced by one of peace. He stood, carrying her lifeless, light body in his hands and looked to the coffin nearby. He didn’t want to leave someone as powerful as her lying on the floor.
As he walked over, small strands of holy magic began to travel out of Hy’ria’s body. He stopped, feeling her body becoming lighter. More golden pillars of holy light left her, and moments later Valon felt no more of her weight.
He slowly let go as her body drifted upwards, slowly unraveling into a golden, glistening thread. He smiled at the breathtaking sight, Hy’ria’s entire body finally disappearing into floating magic. Then, without warning, the magic merged into one large pillar, traveled upwards a few feet and imploded in on itself, disappearing from the mausoleum completely.
Rise of the Champions Page 24
