by Dan Zangari
The mechanics of this telekinetic spell was similar to Gladis’s transmutation. The kineticists were simply holding their magic in place. Telekinetic spells pushed an object one way or another. In this case, three of the mages were pushing down, and the others were pushing up, thus creating the hovering effect. The spell they were using was a multi-directional one, at least ten directions.
All the elves gathered at the center, except for those levitating the dais.
The elves maintaining the telekinetic spells resumed their incantations, and the dais steadily climbed into the air. It was slow at first, but increased in speed as it rose.
Thirteen, Solidin thought in despair, thirteen of you. I will ensure your deaths were not in vain. He took in a deep breath, staring at the circular walls of the chamber. Detailed stonework flashed before his eyes. They were climbing quickly now. It would be only a matter of seconds before they reached the surface.
“Only one of the Three shall remain. He will deal justly with his adversary.”
- Prophecy of Soron Thahan
Kaescis stalked through the halls of the Keepers’ Temple. It was empty. Where were those accursed elves? Surely the Swift-Dagger had brought his entire company with him. At least two hundred of those vile elves were in their last encounter.
He turned a corner and was met by a wall of barsion. Angered, Kaescis sliced his blade through the magic; it broke like glass.
“This must be the right way,” he said beneath his breath. Several more barsion barriers blocked his path, but Kaescis destroyed them as easily as the first. Soon, he entered a round chamber that rose seven stories.
“Prince Kaescis!”
He knew that voice… one of the Sorothians, Kalder. Kaescis turned to see three of the Sorothian warriors with their barsionist. Anger boiled within him. Had he made the—no! They’re not my enemy. Kaescis shook off the hostility.
Another wall of barsion blocked another hallway; there were seven connected to this chamber. A good number. Kaescis dashed straight for the barsion, slicing his sword through it. He heard the others chasing after him. Kaescis led them through the halls, breaking barrier after barrier of barsion magic. Did the Sapphire Guard deliberately want him to follow?
Soon, they came to a corridor blocked by a wall of rock. It looked raw, like the caverns outside the temple.
“Where to now?” Gregan asked.
“There’s no other barsion,” Aron remarked.
The Sorothians debated which way to go next. Kaescis heard them say that this didn’t look like any other hall they had seen in the temple. That gave him an idea.
Kaescis shoved his Ko’delish blade into the rock, carving a circular opening. He slammed his fist into the rock and spread his gauntleted fingers, pulling the chunk he had cut from the rest of the wall. His armor afforded him greater strength, as did the enhancing spell he had cast upon himself before donning the suit.
The hewn rock fell to the ground and revealed more of the corridor, but it was barred by another earthen wall. A transmutative spell?
Kaescis cast a dispel. Off-white dispelling magic formed beyond his freehand and he slammed it into the stone. The rock turned to sand, spilling across the corridors.
“What kind of incantation was that?” the old mage demanded. “It was too short and choppy to be a real incantation… Do you know some kind of ancient magical tongue?”
Kaescis ignored him and continued to the next wall. He cast the same spell, turning the rock to sand. A barsion barrier was behind this one, and Kaescis sliced through it, shattering the magic. He destroyed two more barriers and found a doorway leading to a circular chamber.
Cautious, Kaescis stepped inside. He wondered if it was a trap, that perhaps—
Seven pillars caught his eye, each with transparent globes sitting atop them.
A transportium? Kaescis wondered, entering the chamber. A chest-high pedestal stood at the far end of the room. Yes, this was a transportium chamber. But where was the platform? He searched the ground, but was drawn to a noise coming from above, like something falling from the sky.
Kaescis looked up along the towering room. It rose hundreds, if not thousands, of phineals. Its ceiling looked like it was descending… No. The platform! It was falling toward him.
Kaescis leapt backwards, narrowly evading the massive stone platform as it crashed into the floor. The platform shattered, making a shallow crater on impact.
“By all that’s magical!” the old mage shouted, stepping beside Kaescis. “You could have been crushed.”
Idiot, Kaescis thought and pushed himself up. He dismissed his blade, and it turned to mist and evaporated.
Had the Sapphire Guard escaped through the transportium? They would have had to leave a mage behind to hurl the platform through the chamber. Granted, the mage could be up top.
Kaescis sauntered through the chamber, eyeing every detail. One of the globes was damaged. Why damage a globe and the platform? It didn’t make any sense. He made his way to the pedestal. The words upon its angled top weren’t glowing. That could mean a variety of things. Perhaps this transportium wasn’t functioning like the others he had discovered. But then why flee to this room?
“Odd room,” Aron remarked.
The other Sorothians picked their way through the transportium chamber, stepping over the broken platform.
That’s it! Kaescis thought, watching the Sorothians gather atop the platform. Accursed elves used it like a lift… clever bastards.
“Where did they all go?” Kalder asked.
“I don’t smell the after effects of a teleportation spell,” Gregan said.
Kaescis ignored them and stalked to the transportium chamber’s entrance.
“Your Imperial Highness?” Aron asked.
Kaescis stopped at the doorway. “The temple is ours. The Sapphire Guard has fled.” That statement made his blood boil. He yearned for their deaths. His bloodlust smothered him. The Sorothians were asking something, but Kaescis couldn’t hear them. The voices drowned them out, demanding death and destruction.
Taking a deep breath, Kaescis stalked back through the sand covering the corridor, attempting to quell the voices in his mind.
* * * * *
Solidin stood upon a mountain peak along the ruins of Klindil, looking down the long shaft belonging to the transportium chamber of the Keepers’ Temple. It was a long drop, probably several hundred stories. The last couple hundred phineals of the shaft lacked any of the stonework present in the temple and looked like a roughly hewn hole.
“Do you suppose that hit him?” Kaldarin asked.
“I doubt it,” Solidin said with a sigh and walked away from the hole. Gladis and the barsionist who had erected the barricades to the transportium chamber had told Solidin that their spells had been destroyed. Solidin figured it was that half-breed prince, so he ordered the kineticists to drop the dais.
Solidin shielded his eyes from the sun, climbing a short ridge where the other members of the Sapphire Guard were gathered. They wore their packs upon their backs, stuffed with provisions and tents.
“Solidin,” said an elf approaching hastily. He was one of the scouts. “The terrain is steep. We spotted—”
“Transmute a path,” Solidin interrupted, pushing past the scout. “Gladis!”
Gladis stepped around several elves, stopping in front of Solidin as he approached. “What is it?”
“Make a ramp down the mountain.”
Gladis studied Solidin, then nodded to the scout. What was his problem?
“Uh, sir,” the scout cleared his throat. “As I was about to say, there is a Wildmen village below us.”
“So?” Solidin looked blankly at the scout. What did it matter if a bunch of primitives lived along the mountains?
“They have a sizeable number, about four thousand according to a rough count.”
“Then we go down another side,” Solidin said briskly.
“The village wraps around the entire mountain, sir,�
� the scout said, sounding flustered.
That didn’t bode well. Solidin sighed. The only way to get off this mountain was to cut through that village. They’d be facing odds of twenty to one. Solidin didn’t like those odds.
Kaldarin and some of the others began talking strategy. The scouts argued with them. The nearby mages, including Gladis, turned up their noses at the idea of invading the village. One of them said it was foolish.
It was foolish. There has to be another way, Solidin thought.
The debate continued and Solidin did his best to ignore it. Then it hit him. “I have it!” Solidin said, snapping his fingers. “Gather all of our illusionists, Kaldarin.”
“But, sir, I—”
“What crazy scheme are you concocting now, Solidin?” Gladis asked.
Solidin smiled wryly. “Those Mindolarnians have Wildmen among them, do they not?” He let that sink in for a moment before continuing. “We simply become our enemy.”
Kaldarin hurried off. He probably understood the plan just by those two sentences. Kaldarin returned shortly with a couple of the Sapphire Guard’s illusionists.
“Make the troops look like the Mindolarnians,” Solidin told the mages. “Be sure to make a few of those Crimson Praetorians.” He turned to one of the illusionists and sternly asked, “Can you recall the details of the prince’s armor?” The elf nodded. “Good, make me look like him. By nightfall we will be off this mountain without subjecting our forces to heavy casualties.”
* * * * *
Krindal approached the bridge leading to the Temple of Truth and Might. The chasm housing the temple was beautiful. It was ingenious that this place was built beneath the world.
He walked with the rest of the scholars from the Order of Histories. They had all stayed behind after the rest of the expedition charged after the prince. Kaescis had gone running off, ready to avenge the men he had lost in the Igeacean Sea. The prince was a brave man, facing all those elves…
Krindal hadn’t dared venture forth to the temple until it was clear. Kaescis had sent a runner back to Krindal and the other scholars, informing them that the temple was theirs. Chatter reached his ears as Krindal neared the end of the bridge, but he couldn’t tell who was speaking. Those barricades were obstructing the voices. He stepped into a courtyard with the dead strewn across it, Mindolarnian and elf alike. Now that Krindal was in the courtyard the voices were clearer.
“Well, we’re glad you’re safe,” Nordal said.
Krindal turned to see Cornar surrounded by his men. He’s alive! Krindal blinked several times in disbelief. The Sapphire Guard hadn’t killed him. But they were so vicious, so violent. They had had no mercy for the men and women of Krindal’s first party. If he hadn’t escaped, they would have killed him too. Such relentless butchers…
Cornar turned toward Krindal, a scowl forming upon his face. The warrior pushed through the crowd, glaring at Krindal.
Oh no… Krindal groaned, side-stepping toward the temple. The other scholars were already partway to the temple’s massive doors.
“Krindal,” Cornar called, his tone firm.
Krindal sucked in a deep breath. Perhaps he should have told Cornar of the Sapphire Guard earlier. He felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Heart thumping in his chest, Krindal turned, facing the notorious warrior. “Cornar…” he said, forcing a smile, “it’s good you’re—”
“Save the pleasantries,” Cornar growled, and Krindal shied away. “Tell me, why didn’t you tell us about the Sapphire Guard?”
Krindal didn’t know what to say… he couldn’t tell Cornar the truth. That would be disastrous. “There was no good time,” Krindal lied. Would that satisfy him?
Cornar sighed. “You endangered my life and the lives of my men,” the warrior said.
“I’m sorry,” Krindal spat the apology, spinning away from Cornar. “But you’re all alive and unharmed, right?” He glanced over his shoulder. Krindal hadn’t seen the other missing warriors or Vargos.
“Yes.”
“Uh, good.” Krindal hurried across the courtyard. He stepped around the remains of an adolescent-sized magma elemental while eyeing the temple’s towering doors. The symbols of each of the Keeper Orders were on its surface, as well as a foreign one. The unfamiliar symbol had seven sharp points protruding from a ten-sided mark, all arrayed above three claws clutching a circle. He hadn’t come across that symbol in any of the temples, or his research. Hopefully one of the scholars would sketch it.
Krindal hurried into the ten-sided foyer, some of the scholars were examining the statues.
“Krindal,” Jahevial called, standing beside the left hallway. There was another corridor to the right. “Where do you think the tevisrals will be located?”
How should I know? Krindal wondered. It wasn’t like he knew the layout of this place. It was already different from the other Keeper temples he visited across Kalda.
“I don’t know, Jahevial,” Krindal said with a shrug. “Why don’t you take some of Cornar’s men and start looking?” Jahevial raised a brow at the suggestion. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must find something,” Krindal said, stepping past the scholar.
Krindal caught a glimpse of Jahevial scowling at him. Nordal had mentioned that Cornar had been following Jahevial when the earthquake hit. For some reason, Cornar didn’t trust Jahevial.
Well, Cornar probably doesn’t trust me either, he sighed.
Krindal stopped at a four-way intersection, but heard voices coming from the right. He walked down that branch, up a short flight of stairs and entered an enormous chamber. It was seven stories tall, and that same strange symbol was on the ceiling within a stained glass window.
That isn’t a Keepers’ symbol, is it? he wondered, gawking at the ceiling while crossing the room. He bumped into a soldier and quickly apologized, but returned his gaze to the unfamiliar symbol. Why seven points? And what is the significance of the claw? Is that circle the world?
More questions filled his mind, but Krindal shook them off, glancing to the other scholars in the room. His associates had set up portable desks throughout this big room. They were taking notes or sketching.
Krindal noted balconies all along the upper levels of the room. Where is the attunement chamber? he wondered. It had always been in the room opposite the entrance. Well, there was a hallway in that direction, and Krindal could see a flight of stairs at its end.
“Master Krindal!” Krindal turned, seeing Prince Kaescis striding toward him, helmet under one arm. He looked furious. “Yes, Your Imperial Highness?” Krindal asked.
“Have you seen Mister Dol’shir?”
“He’s in the courtyard, Your Imperial Highness.”
Prince Kaescis set his jaw, walking the way Krindal had come. Was the prince angry at Cornar? Well, that was his problem.
A sense of triumph swelled within Krindal. He was free to explore the temple. He could prove once and for all that his theories of Cultural Regression and the Lost World were true. Hopefully they’d find tevisrals capable of doing things beyond their wildest dreams.
* * * * *
“So they faked my death, huh?” Cornar sighed. Solidin had been so deceptive. Heleron damn that elf!
“The body looked just like you,” Nordal said. “We thought we’d lost you. At least, until Kaescis arrived and used his magic to dissolve your short-sword. He was using Master Iltar’s magic.”
My short-sword? Cornar thought. One of Solidin’s mages must have created a likeness of it after he let Solidin borrow the blade. The fact that it dissolved upon Kaescis mustering the Darkness magic was a testament that Cornar’s weapons were not something one could duplicate. That made him wonder about what the projections had said about his weapons.
“Cor,” Grensil said, drawing Cornar from his thoughts, “what’s the plan now?”
Cornar hadn’t considered their next course of action. He’d been so wrapped up in the battle that he hadn’t thought of planning ahead. “We should search this place,”
Cornar said. “See if there are any tevisrals or other artifacts.” After all, the Sapphire Guard hadn’t stayed long enough to plunder the temple.
“Should we make camp?” Cordel asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “We should check with Kaescis and the other leaders. If we do end up staying, find us a place away from the others. I’d like some peace and quiet for a change.”
“We’ll find a spot,” Cordel said with a nod, heading toward the temple with Markin and Brendar.
“Mister Dol’shir!” That could only be Kaescis. Cornar turned to see the prince approaching, helmet under one arm.
“Yes, Your Imperial Highness?”
Kaescis narrowed his eyes at Cornar. He looked displeased. Well, so was Cornar. The prince could have mentioned Solidin. Why hadn’t he?
“I want to know what happened,” the prince demanded.
“What do you mean?” Cornar asked.
Kaescis sighed. “How did you encounter the Sapphire Guard? Why were you with them?”
Was this an interrogation?
“Why didn’t you join the fight against those vile elves when we assaulted the courtyard? You were just standing there.”
Had Kaescis just accused him of collusion with Solidin? That made Cornar’s blood boil. Some of the men shifted uneasily. Nordal hovered his hand above his weapon’s hilt.
“Solidin found me,” Cornar said. “I didn’t know who he was when we met.” Kaescis scowled disapprovingly. He obviously didn’t believe Cornar. “You think I wanted to help them?” Cornar asked preemptively.
“I don’t know,” Kaescis shrugged. “The Elven Aristocracy is wealthy. They could have promised you anything to aid them.”
Who do you think I am? he wondered, biting his tongue.
“Did they promise you something?”
“No!”
“Cor isn’t a traitor,” Nordal said firmly. “He’s the most honest man I know.”
Kaescis glanced to Nordal. There seemed to be a fire in the prince’s eyes, a seething bloodlust. It was a look that said he wanted to kill Nordal. Solidin’s warning about Kaescis rang in Cornar’s mind.
