by Shanon Chong
“Do you dare kill us, Andreas Arcanas?” an amalgamation of voices echoed out of his mouth, from a low tenor to high treble. My father’s name rang in my ears for a few seconds. Not knowing yet what my life really had to offer…I decided that finding my father should be one of my primary objectives.
“Help!” Several screams jarred me from my slumber, and I awakened to see Rachel had also been aroused by the commotion.
“What was that?” I asked, seeing if Rachel had an explanation before we went to investigate the situation. The carriage had come to a full halt, the convoy of carriages didn’t seem to be moving anymore as I thought to the possibilities.
“No idea,” Rachel muttered under her breath. She unlocked the carriage door. “Let’s have a look…” The door swung wide, sucked open by the sheer amount of air being dragged away from us.
A rift in space had formed, a hole ripped from the very fabric of reality. Wisps of dark energy ejected from the void that had opened, and cracks formed around the laceration in the world. Two figures, a third carried within their arms, disappeared into the void. Then the hole sewed itself together, small cracks remained as the hole continued to fix itself as we continued to marvel at its sheer size.
“We’re dealing with another level of mage here…” I whispered under my breath, realising the sheer force of the transportation magic they had used.
“Tier-nine magic…” Rachel replied quietly, in equal awe and fear of the situation we had found ourselves in. “There hasn’t been any Vindicators or Adjudicators marked as going rogue…” She was using the official terms for a mage of such class and vigour: “Vindicator” described tier ten, and “Adjudicator” tier nine.
“An Executor?” I asked, wondering if we had stumbled upon a tier-eight mage whilst travelling to the Capital. “Would someone of that strength even want to leave the Association?”
“I doubt it. There are too many privileges that come with being a part of the Association,” Rachel replied swiftly. “Probably another exile… Do me a favour and get a passenger list from one of the drivers.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked as I turned to look at the line of carriages, which resembled a snake.
“Contact the Academy. They’ll send someone of appropriate strength.”
“Great…” I muttered.
I walked to the first carriage in the long line of coaches. I noticed a coach driver looking to the sky where the hole had appeared a second ago. Spatial magic was rare, and something of that sheer size could only be considered the work of a Vindicator or an Adjudicator. However, the occasional Executor could perform a feat of similar proportions. The Mage Association worked together with the council to ensure magical well-being within the nation. Despite this, plenty of smaller mages and some of the stronger mages went rogue. This wasn’t rare; however, someone of that level of strength going rogue was uncommon.
“Are you looking for someone?” the driver asked me, dazed. “I can see your friend over there trying to get some help.” The driver pointed at Rachel, who was shouting at a small rune on a scrap of paper.
“Yeah, about that…would it be possible if we could have a copy of the passenger list?” I asked, relaying Rachel’s orders to the driver.
He pulled out a scroll, slipped it into my grasp, and smiled. “Take it. There isn’t much I can do… I hope it helps,” he said, a sad smile on his face. “However, carriage eight doesn’t have any names.”
“Thank you,” I replied, taking my leave as he waved me goodbye.
When I got back to Rachel, she lifted the scroll from my hands, opening as she began relaying a string of information to the communication rune.
“Passenger Richard Yaru has been kidnapped by two unknown perpetrators.” Rachel looked at me as she erased the rune. Then she stared me down. “You say anything excessive?”
“How so?” I asked. “I only talked to one driver.”
Rachel sighed. “Honestly, the scroll could have been embedded with a runic explosion, for all we knew.” Her response seemed unnatural and strange. Finishing her excessively long sigh, she took a breath and continued. “Anyway, the Academy have decided to get the Mage Association involved… They’re sending a titled mage.”
“A little excessive,” I remarked, “don’t you think?”
“Better to be on the safe side,” Rachel justified. “It would look bad on their record if a student disappeared and was never retrieved.”
“A student was taken?” I asked, remembering the name Richard Yaru. Knowing the circumstances, I decided to ask, “Was the student strong?”
Rachel gave me a single look of confusion before raising her hands. Pointing both at me, she said, “How am I meant to know that? I had a list, not a ranking!”
“Calm down. Just asking…” I responded quickly. “Sorry, okay?”
“Don’t worry about it… Our titled mage should be here any second now…” Rachel said impatiently.
“Any information on this mage?” I asked, looking to the horizon like Rachel was. The rain had stopped halfway through the night, and the stars twinkled in the sky, the pinpricks scattered randomly around the black abyss, showering light on us. Rachel returned my glance as I sat on the lip of the carriage, which was still slightly damp with the rainwater.
“He’s infamous among the military types… Last I checked, his title was Master of Crimson. I personally don’t like him much. However, I think he’s usually a kind person…” Rachel’s opinion rarely ever made it into the conversation, so I found it truly strange for her to state that.
“Can’t be too bad,” I replied.
A hand ruffled Rachel’s hair, and she recoiled.
Behind her stood a slightly above-average-height lean figure. His skin, a pale shade of olive, contrasted with his blood-red eyes and long, dark hair. Not wanting to sound offensive, I asked, “Who-who are you?”
“Huh?” The fact that I didn’t recognise him the moment I saw him seemed to stun him. “I’m Harrold Bloodwind, Master of Crimson.”
Chapter 3: The Limits of Strength
“You’re late,” Rachel said sharply. “Will you even be able to trace the spatial footprint?” She sighed and looked at Harrold for a response. However, he paid no heed to what she had said, replying only after he realised she was speaking to him.
“Huh?” He exhaled, confused. “Oh, it’s Steph’s little girl.” His surprise was obviously a façade; his expression remained unchanged, and he had already approached her earlier. “Am I late?” he asked. The small grin on his face declared that he was playing around with Rachel.
She exploded, as she began berating the titled mage at full volume. “What do you mean by ‘Am I late?’ Are you joking? Of course, you’re late! Your improperness killed your squad back in the anti-magic skirmishes! How do you expect to save a student when you’re ten minutes late?” she continued, revealing several facts I hadn’t known before. Rachel, having worked in the military as a strategist, must’ve seen reports or articles related to Harrold in the past and decided to use the stories as ammunition to insult him.
“That’s a little harsh…” he replied. “I was just joking…” he added, attempting to soften the insults that Rachel had laid in full against him.
Her frustration subsiding, she looked like she’d decided to forgive him. However, before she could say anything, Harrold gave her an apologetic look. “I’ll get to work. Want to join me when I go to retrieve the academy’s lost property?”
“You’ll get us killed,” she muttered. Despite this, she still looked at me, seeking my input on the situation.
Nodding my head, I signalled that I wanted to experience the search and rescue mission.
“Are you crazy?” Rachel asked incredulously, tilting her head to look at me closer like I was a caged animal, and I knew she wouldn’t let up until I had shaken my head and denied my own truth.
However, deciding against that, I replied, “Calm down. We should have a look before jumping to an
y conclusions.”
“Are you saying we can escape two mages who are decades ahead of us?” she proposed sarcastically to counter my argument. Shaking her head, she looked me in the eye. “Please reconsider,” she snapped at me, denying my right to an opinion.
“Look, Rachel, I just want to have an experience,” I declared, not letting her nagging get to me. “Worst-case scenario, we throw Harrold away as a sacrifice to keep ourselves safe,” I joked, patting her on the back before Harrold left a deep state of concentration to stare me down.
“What about sacrificing me?” he asked, now genuinely shocked.
“See, he’s fine with it!” I concluded illogically.
Rachel, now giggling slightly, seemed to decide that maybe I could be correct. “Okay, on the condition that Harrold will escape and return us to the academy in one piece,” she replied. “Show us what you’ve got, Harrold.” She tossed me a small shoulder cape. “Late present. Happy birthday for a week ago.” She smiled at me as she entered the carriage.
“Thanks!” I shouted after her, desperate to express my gratitude. Sliding the small cape over my shoulders, I felt a flow of magic enter me, and then I noticed the runes and markings stitched into the material. My robes looked perfect with the cape; the grey material comfortably rested against my shoulders, and the fur trim on the edge fit the deep grey of the cape itself. Smiling, I went to follow Rachel into the carriage. Twisting the handle, I felt the resistance of the locked door. “Rachel?” I called quietly.
“What?” she replied, aggravated. “I’m changing. Go talk to Harrold or something.”
I went over to Harrold, who was sitting cross-legged on the roof of the missing student’s carriage. Filaments of magical thread floated towards the sky, tracing the path the captors had taken during their escape. The crimson from Harrold’s eyes stained the threads as they pierced through space and tracked the kidnappers’ location. A burst of energy, invisible to the naked eye, exploded, knocking me off my feet, and I landed uncomfortably in the dirt. I looked at Harrold, who stood triumphantly.
As he stared down at me, an evil grin plagued his face. His laughter echoed around the surrounding plains.
“I found them!” he shouted triumphantly. Rachel, emerging from the carriage, looked at him strangely. Her own smile was plastered to her face. They looked each other in the eye as they seemed to reach similar conclusions, myself far from having the same sort of epiphany. I waited as both Rachel and Harrold began a mad dash toward the plains. Realising my own stamina was nowhere near sufficient to compete with Rachel and Harrold, I slowed my pace, barely keeping up with them.
Reaching my peak speed, our footsteps began making prints on the damp grass plains we ran across. However, Harrold and Rachel remained vigilant. I didn’t have the luxury of thought… My entire body struggled to keep up with the extreme pace I ran at to stay with them. Both Rachel and Harrold had gone through similar training to reach a point where several hours of running would be difficult but doable. However, not knowing their limits, I had only made an estimate of their speed and stamina.
“This guy knows what he’s doing…” Harrold muttered, retrieving a tool from his pocket, which slowly extended into a sharp, hollow metal pole. “I actually have to pay attention.” Harrold stabbed his finger with his weapon of choice. Blood flowed, coagulating at the end of the tube, which sharpened into a stake. Harrold stabbed the ground before him as he ran, revealing a small runic explosive that turned to dust when Harrold touched it with his rapier-like weapon.
“What was that?” Rachel asked, concerned for our safety.
“A trap,” Harrold replied, his focus dedicated to working on the traps. His response seemed to annoy Rachel until he stabbed below her feet, disarming the explosive before she landed on it with her next step. “Take care.”
“How am I meant to spot something I can’t see!” she retorted. Annoyed, she started to place concentration into where Harrold had already disarmed the multitude of traps around the entire plain.
As we ran, an entire town’s worth of houses and buildings appeared. A single dirt track led to an obsidian tower surrounded by burnt and charred houses. The tower itself had lost its top with time; however, the obsidian had remained intact in its gabbled roofs and overhangs that were bent down to deflect the rain.
“Is that our place?” I asked quickly, placing some of my energy into speaking. Transitioning back into an all-out sprint, Harrold didn’t bother replying as he held his weapon pointed at the tower and flashed a single thumbs-up behind him to signify that my assumption was correct. “Do we know who our kidnappers are?” I asked.
“Two tier-eight mages. The first is Hans Ghil. He’s the ringleader.” Reaching the tower, he turned to fully fill me in on the details. “The other is Maxi Ranus, and both are dangerous, so take care.”
“What do they look like?” I replied, hoping to get a little more information.
“Maxi Ranus is 5 feet and 7 inches tall, with long black hair and stubble across his face.” He opened the door to the tower, letting us through before following us inside. “See? That’s him right there.”
He pointed at the relatively normal person who stood between us and the final prize. The man’s long dark hair must have been given a trim, since the stubble that Maxi had previously worn had been shaved clean with a razor. A single pink eye stood out from the rest of his face, and a lone rune floated slightly in front of it…symbolising death. The archaic rune danced around his vision before settling within the pink iris within his right eye. Focusing on Harrold, he greeted us.
“Harrold Bloodwind…aren’t you a famous one?” he taunted, the wide smile plaguing his face taking the place of any other expression.
Harrold tilted his head, laughing as he stared Maxi Ranus down. “More like infamous… Maxi Ranus, I’m under orders to retrieve you unharmed and return you to the Capital.” Harrold took a step toward Maxi, and his sharp stick glistened with his own blood as he held it at his side. Not making any sudden movements, Harrold and Maxi didn’t speak a word.
“Isn’t a capture order a little dangerous?” I whispered to Rachel, returning the gaze that came from Maxi’s eyes.
“Presumptuous, possibly. However, danger is relative to the strength of the mage,” Rachel replied. Her lack of extra comment surprised me. Waiting for the fight that could occur at any moment, Rachel’s eyes remained peeled, constantly ready to gain insight from a fight between two formidable mages.
“Isn’t bringing two children…a tad arrogant?” Maxi asked, smiling as he took a step forward.
In a single swift movement, Harrold moved the sharp tip of the pole to point at Maxi’s neck. “Is it wise to talk to your opponent?” he replied, similarly taunting Maxi into making the first move on the battlefield.
Getting a safe distance away became a priority as Rachel and I hopped back several steps to watch the fight from afar. Once we’d retreated an adequate distance, Harrold engaged Maxi in melee, his metal stick striking Maxi’s shoulder. Blood splattered across the floor. Maxi winced, his smile leaving his face.
Taking the fight more seriously, he retrieved his tome from the depths of his robes. Sparks floated around him, and a cloud formed above Harrold. The lack of an actual effect that came with the spell left the two of us cautious as to what was to come. Electricity dashed around in sharp, jagged beams of energy, joining the cloud above Harrold.
Still attacking Maxi, Harrold had inflicted several major wounds with his rapier-like weapon. Gashes appeared across Maxi’s arms. However, his legs weren’t immune to the same wounds he had sustained on the upper body. The metal spire that Harrold held high above his head entered into the misty cloud above him, and static energy rushed into his body, stunning him for a brief moment. A single swift movement left a solitary blade stuck in Harrold’s gut. Maxi stumbled back and sat himself down on the floor.
“Not so strong, eh?” Maxi laughed, his chuckle echoing in the hall. The golden trims and red walls stood ou
t as I noticed Harrold’s blood drip to the floor. No longer standing, Harrold looked Maxi in the eye. He raised his right arm, his index finger outstretched.
“I live, you die,” Harrold declared, disregarding his orders. Multiple needles of blood formed in the air as they seemed to mingle for a hesitant moment before they pierced Maxi’s skin, and fountains of blood appeared across his body. Rachel realised that Maxi’s current chances of death exceeded his chances of living; I decided to follow Rachel’s lead and staunch the gallons of blood that poured out of his body.
“You have orders!” Rachel hissed, tightening the multiple gauzes she had whipped from a small medical kit at her waist. Harrold’s own wounds needing attention, he took a single roll of gauze.
“I know my orders…but currently my life is more important,” he declared. Blood floated into the air, pooling before returning to Harrold’s system via the very wound that could have proved fatal. “You think he’ll live?” he said, pointing his ring finger nonchalantly at the barely breathing Maxi, who lay motionless on the floor.
“He’ll live long enough to be interrogated, and then maybe he’ll die,” Rachel replied. “The other target?”
“The roof,” Harrold muttered. “He’s been building strength for a while now.”
“Couldn’t you have dealt with Maxi quicker?” I asked, wondering why the entire situation had seemed to have spiraled sideways and gone crazy.
“We needed him alive,” Harrold muttered as he staggered towards the stairs that led up to the roof. “Dead? I could’ve gotten both of them easily.”
“It’s too late…” Maxi chuckled from his cocoon of bandages. His eyes gleamed as he sat against the wall. “I’ll be down here when the association sends the hounds to collect me.”
“What about Hans?” Harrold commented as he motioned for the two of us to begin up the stairs. Following his orders, we made our way towards them. The response from Maxi surprised us a little as we progressed slowly up the first few steps.
