by Cory Mccoy
“Incredible, they are my son.” The lord master said, speaking slowly and deliberately as he was wont to do. “I trust you know why we have come to the shore this day.”
“I believe so, Lord Master,” Roley said cautiously, then remembering the lord master's manner “No, I do know sir. I apologize for my hesistance. We've come to discuss the inquisitor, Bael. Why we've come to the shores, I have not devised.”
“It was here,” The Lord Master said, looking at the water almost as if he could see across the Great Ocean itself, “on these very shores, that the elder races left these lands many thousand years ago. It bears tremendous significance to our task, my son.”
“Had anyone but you told me that I would look upon the land of my birth, once more I would not have entertained the thought.” Roley replied, the shadow of a distant memory flashing across his face. “I almost don't remember it.”
“We never forget the lands which bore us,” The Lord Master continued, “Nor do our hearts forget the lands that bore our lineage. Even 4,000 years removed. My entire life, I felt this land in my blood. My presence here gives me strength, prolongs me with its nurturing winds.”
“I know what you would have me do, Master” Roley said, “It honors me that you've chosen me for this task.”
“This is not something I wish to do,” he said, moving his eyes from the waves toward Roley. “Unfortunately, it is pertinent. We would have to begin at once. The days draw near, fluttering away until we leave this land once more.”
“Lord Master,” Role said hesitantly, “Why is it that you have chosen me?”
“You have always been a strong willed boy. Cunning, fearless, and disobedient at times. All of the things I need you to be in order to help the others withstand the inquisitors. They will undoubtedly be the first line of defense when we attack.” With that, the lord master raised his twisted oaken cane and began to test the limits or Roley's willpower.
Screams rang out from the bowels of the castle fort of the Agmorian capital. It was common to hear such things under the rule of Karath. The screams were coming from random prisoners, all hapless victims of Rothgar Baen. He had spent nearly a century using the dungeons for his own twisted experiments. Baen had recently acquired a very special victim.
“Where did you find this little treat?” Baen asked with a twisted grin.
“We caught it on our camping trip.” Replied Rangiel, a mage who possessed a medium sized animal crystal and was of very little importance to anyone really.
“So the beasts have colonized the Murkian island chain after all?” Baen asked rhetorically. “Good, this should give us a pleasant number to experiment on. How many did you bring?”
“How, how many?” Rangiel stuttered. “Just the one sir. Lord Karath's orders were to be discreet you see-”
“I do not need explanations from the likes of you.” Baen snapped and glowered dangerously at his underling. Once satisfied with the man's fear, he continued “Can you control it?”
“Well umm, I hadn't really tried sir...”
“Of course not,” Baen seethed, “Surely, you knew i'd have killed you had I not been there to see the results.”
“Yes sir,” He stammered, “of course. Shall I?”
“Proceed.” He replied turning his gaze to the feline-man creature. “Please try not to disappoint me.”
“They don't seem to know the old language, sir” Rangiel told him as he began channeling his crystal at the beast, attempting to elicit a reaction. He was beginning to get frustrated, fearful with the results. He glanced nervously at the helmet tucked under Baen's arm, knowing what might happen if he failed. “It, it doesnt seem to be working.”
“Well then, Let me assist you.” Baen said, donning his helmet. As his gaze fixed upon Rangiel, the lesser mage flung his wand upward attempting to somehow block himself.
“You will not control me!” He yelped, naively attempting to forestall the inevitable. The faint light from Baen's crystal clashed with Rangiel's, its own light still flowing toward the Felinra prisoner. Its body began twisting, contorting in pain. It growled and yelled in pain, the words fading away into growling and yelping.
“Amazing,” Baen muttered. “Put your hands down, you cowardly fool!”
Rangiel lowered his wand, breaking the connection to the creature. It looked the same, yet much more feral and dangerous. Its gaze followed the men as it backed into the corner, moving awkwardly on all fours. Its evolved arms were clunky and useless for scuttering on. Its eyes belonged to a predator, not to a cognitive being.
“Send for the High King!” Baen bellowed to a nearby guard, “Go now! He said emitting a small blast at the man. He ran toward the stairs, no longer himself, but a reflection of Baen's own mind. Baen forced the man through the halls, relentlessly barreling toward the High King's chambers. He stopped for nothing, even as the man's breaths grew labored.
“I trust you are well, Rothgar.” The High King said, knowing it was he who was commanding the man by the hollow look in his eyes.
“Exquisite, my King.” Baen replied, his lips moving down in the dungeon as the words came from the guards mouth. “Please find your way to the dungeons as soon as you deem necessary, your grace.”
“Oh, we have a matter of importance in that dank cellar of yours, do we?”
“A most incredible discovery, my King.”
“As you wish,” Karath said impatiently, already bored with whatever was awaiting him. He stood sharply, lightly tapping his staff into the ground. A quick blast emitted, killing the guard, “Woops.”
Karath entertained a quick smirk as he made his way through the halls. No one was to know where he slept. No one except for Baen, whose puppets guarded his slumber.
“Your Grace,” Baen said, bowing lightly. “The scouting trips to the Murkian islands has been fruitful.”
“It seems rather stupid for a race that drive our people from the old lands.” Karath observed.
“Only a moment ago, it was just as cognitive as any of us my leige.” Baen said. “We seem to have stumbled upon some rather unexpected results when attempting to gain control of it.”
“Ire the results reproducible?” The High King asked
“I believe so, my lord.” Baen replied “All we need is my crystal, one with which we can control beasts, and the beasts themselves.”
“Good,” He replied turning to Rangiel. “We are going to need many more, be sure to send the scouts back Baen. You, give me your wand.”
“Of course, my liege.” Rangiel said, bowing slowly.
“Stand by the creature.” Karath ordered the mage.
“But, but your liege...”
“You dare question my ability to use this mediocre stone?” Karath asked softly.
“Of course not, my lord.” He replied, inching toward the cat. A soft twisting light was now emitting from his wand in Karath's hands. The creature stood, presenting a hand to shake. He shook it obiedently. It then bowed, Rangiel followed. Next, it pounced.
Chapter Four
Upon Distant Shores
“Your mind wanders.” The Lord Master noted. He had been training with Roley on the beach every day for nearly three months. His lack of concentration was odd.
“Yes, Master” Roley replied, “I apologize. I hadnt realized you were still reading my mind.”
“No, not at all.” He replied with a smile, missing very few teeth for a man nearly a millenia old. “I simply followed your gaze. What is it that so intrigues you?”
“There, just a few yards away.” Roley told him, pointing to some odd rocks. “One of the ships was anchored on that spot a few days ago. Now it looks as if the rocks are refusing to settle into the ground.”
“I can sense no other being's presence,” The Lord Master said “Perhaps you should see what is waiting to be found.”
“Thank you, master.” Roley said, coming to his feet.
He walked slowly toward the rocks, his heart pounding harder with every step. As he drew near, he noticed the rocks were not only unsettled but moving slightly, slowly in a circle. Roley took a deep breath and plunged his into the central point of the circle. He gasped as he pulled out a bright blue pulsing crystal, nearly as big as an chicken's egg.
“You've found a channeling stone” The Lord Master said cackling gleefully. “And a right big one, my son.”
“Master, I’ve never seen a stone of this color before.”
“All stones have different personalities Roley.” he said “That one imbues its wielder with the power to move objects with a mere thought. A fitting stone for you.”
“Simply amazing,” Roley said, moving the stone around as it floated just slightly above his,moving with his gestures.
“A stubborn crystal, of course.” The Lord Master noted, “Not one to be held back.”
“Will you teach me to channel its power Lord Master?” Roley asked, cluthing the stone hard in his hands. To his dismay it cracked, shattering into five uneven pieces, all trying to circle each other. “Oh bother.”
“Do not be so quick to discard a gift,” the Lord Master said as Roley reeled his arm back, ready to throw away the useless fragments. They were all too small to be of any real use. “Let us see what the Metal Lord has to say about your crumbs before you let them slip away.”
“Of course, master.” Roley said feeling incredibly disappointed with his rotten luck. He imagined that Oggren, the resident blacksmith of incredible esteem, would simply laugh at him and throw the pieces out the window. They were rubbish after all.
“Roley, my young friend.” Oggren said grasping his arm and drawing him near. His massive hand covered the entirety of Roley's forearm. “I trust our young warriors are showing you the proper respect?”
“Not really,” Roley said with a chuckle. “They're brash, arrogant, and ridiculously strong. A lot like myself I suppose.”
“The ridiculously strong part withstanding.” Oggren replied. He stood over thirteen feet tall. A massive brute, with the intelligence of the elder races in his blood. Oggren was perhaps average sized for an Urg, but he was only half. His mother had been from one of the northern tribes. Nearby was a massive anvil, as big as a bull and the largest smithy hammer Roley, or anyone else for that matter, had ever seen. In any other hands, it would have been impossible to use. Oggren handled it with the precision of a surgeon.
“Well, I am at least more handsome than most of them.” Roley replied.
“Myself withstanding.” Oggren laughed. “The Lord Master has sent you with a request, let's see it.”
“Well, try not to laugh too much.” Roley said pouring the fragments from a small satchel onto a nearby table.
“Interesting.” Oggren said, carefully pushing the shards around. “Normally, I would say these were not even fit for a child's toy and just grind them up for use in reinforcing some armor.”
“What's so different about these then?” Roley said, slight frustrated that every one saw their worth but him.
“Look.” Oggren said, he placed the largest shard in the middle of the table and the four smaller pieces on each corner. Roley stood by, shocked as the pieces began to converge on the central stone, until they were all within hands reach of each other once more.
“Oggren,” Roley said, “Would you honor me by finding a way to harness these crystals?”
“Of course young master,” Oggren said placing them back into the pouch. “You'll need to find me the star ore, you know.”
“Right,” Roley said hesitantly. “How exactly do I find that?”
“The Lord Master has already granted you a month's leave on your journey. You're to take two companions, for safety of course. Not as though you'd need them with the way you handle a blade.”
“I'll be honest Ogg,” He replied “I never paid much attention to that part of the stories. All I recall is that it somehow lets you know that when it finds attunable ore.”
“Indeed, the stone will steadily grow more intense until it is either blazing or an unfathomable void.” Oggren replied. “I'd suggest Malcrian trails. I find most of my best ore there. The calling pools are especially rich, but it is against Felinra law to mine it. You must be able to remove it with your own hands.”
“I'd imagine you tend to test the limits of that law.”
“It's quite funny, little one.” Oggren said grinning “I tend to attract a crowd when I pull a small boulder out of the earth.”
“Well, i'll soon be late for my lessons.” Roley said, excited that he could take a break from training for just a while. “May your crystal guide you my friend.”
“And you as well,” Oggren said handing him the pouch of shards.
Sinnelia was a tall raven haired girl in her mid twenties, she had been rescued from the inquisitors by the Lord Commander just days after her birth. Her family, like many of the templars, had all been killed attempting to secure her passage to the Coasts of No Departure. It was there that Lord Commander Mikkel Le Ronea would teleport daily to look for signs of new templars. Most departures were uneventful and Le Ronea would bring entire families back with him, so great was his control over the dark purple crystal in his breastplate.
In the case of Sinnelia's he had seen the signal fire the night before from one of many vantage points he frequented. Unfortunately he had also seen the horde of Agmorian soldiers descending upon them as soon as the fire went up. Every few years he would have to shift to a new location because of nights like these. Some 300 soldiers descended upon the girl's family, attempting, and mostly succeeding, in slaughtering them all. Le Ronea had teleported in just in time to open a void in front of the girl's mother, who was dieing from an arrow wound to her throat. He opened more wide portals around him, letting the hapless soldiers fall into these temporary voids. They would dissipate, throwing the soldiers back unto the beach once he released command or moved too far out to sense them.
Sinnelia had always looked to him as her father and he to her as if she were his own child. She was fearless and aggressive, qualities he had long since mastered. His stories of the wars were the only things that could get the child to sleep most nights.
When she was about five years old the Lord Commander appeared one night in his chamber, where she would always await his safe return. This time however, he had an injured boy with him. The boy was around ten or eleven with shaggy light brown hair and almond colored eyes. He was bleeding profusely. Le Ronea had sent Sinnelia to fetch the medic immediately, he knew she would be there to aid him. The boy hadn't much time left, he had managed to battle and kill more than a dozen soldiers himself when his family was ambushed.
“Lord Commander,” Anglusk the Healer addressed Le Ronea as he came breathlessly into the room. “You know there is nothing I can do for this child. My stone only allows me to help men like us, the templars receive no benefit from it. Unless of course theyre already dead, somehow I doubt that would be your intention.”
“No Anglusk,” Le Ronea said as he wiped the boy's brow. “This one, he is not a templar. One of his clan was, but they have all perished except for him.”
“Thank the gods,” Anglusk said, sighing in relief. This was always the worst part, having to watch the children die. “Let me see him. Ill do what I can, but im not sure if it's too late for this one.”
“To bed girl,” Le Ronea said guiding Sinnelia out of the room.
“Is he going to die papa?” she asked
“No darling,” He said pensively, “I should think not. He has too much tenacity to simply perish after what just happened.”
“Did he kill an inquisitor?” She squeaked with excitement.
“Heavens no, dear.” he replied. “I threw the slug into a void as soon as I picked him out of the pack. No, this boy killed quite a few full grown men.”
“Is he like me?” She asked,
skipping down the hallway
“No dear,” he said “Amazing as that is. This boy isn't special. Well he is, but in a much different way.”
“Can Mr Anglusk really make ghosts papa?”
“Yes dear, but he uses his stone to help not to hurt.”
“Could he let me see my mama and daddy?”
