The class stood up and when all of them left, he approached Winthrop.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Bullies, the lot. I can see the resolve inside of you, Winthrop. I can feel an untold power emanating from you. When you learn to tap into that well of power, you’ll be unstoppable.”
“Really?” Winthrop smiled.
“Yes. Now, I want to warn you. There is a wielder here that I think has turned traitor to the Decayed. Even though people can’t seem to get it out of their head that magic isn’t inherited, I think he’ll try to bring you to his side.”
“What’s his name?”
“Mort.”
Day 8 — Morning
Linette entered the library and walked over to Viola’s desk and grabbed the set of keys she needed to access the Decayed section. The woman gave her a curt nod and went back to work. Linette’s footsteps punctuated the silence of the grand room. She’d grown used to the lack of noise when her shoes weren’t slapping on the stone. She loved the smell of the books and scrolls.
She reached the Decayed area and began to unlock the gate that led inside when she heard footsteps on the next aisle. Linette pulled out the key, tugged on the door, confirming it remained secure, and crept over to see who made the noise. She peaked her head around the corner and a young man in a blue cloak stood a dozen feet up the aisle. His back faced toward her and an unmistakable blue light outlined his body.
“What are you doing?” Linette asked.
He jumped and yelped at the same time. His blue sphere shrank to nothing as he turned around.
“Sorry, I rarely run into many people when I’m here,” he said.
Linette smiled and saw he held a book in his hands. Blue magic coated the binding.
“You’re reinforcing the spine of the book,” Linette stated.
He smiled. He looked about five years older than Linette and had thick brown hair that matched his eyes and two-day-old facial hair.
“Yes, anytime I travel through Claybury, I help with book maintenance.”
“That’s ummm… nice of you.”
He laughed. “No, it’s not glamorous, but someone has to do it.”
“Have you noticed anything odd about any of the books you’ve fixed?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Odd? What do you mean?”
Linette didn’t want to give away anything to someone else about her mission. She’d already slipped up and admitted to Viola her goal. She eyed the man and became suspicious of him because of his Order. She kept her explanation vague and potentially ominous.
“You’d know if you saw it. If you find something, please let me know. Lives are at stake.”
Linette spun on her heel and walked back the way she had come. She unlocked the gate, opened it and walked inside. She began her search for the book or scroll that would provide her a clue on discovering the Decayed’s final power.
“Excuse me?”
Linette jumped and squealed like she hadn’t since she was a little girl. She looked up at the man and almost grabbed a book and threw it at him. She stopped herself, realizing the caged room made it difficult to injure someone on the other side.
“What?” Linette asked.
He smiled. “I don’t know your name. If I discover something, who should I tell?”
“Linette, of the Order of the Eagle.”
“Hello, Linette. It’s a pleasure meeting you.” He nodded his head and started to walk away.
“What’s your name?” Linette yelled over to him.
He turned and said, “Falen.”
He left and Linette got back to searching. The section was small—only three shelves. She scanned the titles row by row and section by section. Any book that seemed a likely candidate, she pulled out a few inches so she could find it again. Some books had no title or at least an unreadable one. Linette finished her initial scan of the section and then pulled out a volume called The Masters of the Order of Man.
Her arms strained from holding its weight, a symbol of their ego. She opened it to find only ten names listed in its table of contents. Each master had at least a hundred pages dedicated to their story. Linette noticed dates below each name. Scrolling down to the end, the entry for the last master had died five years before the Night of Sorrows.
She rested the book on the ground and sat cross-legged before it. After flipping over the doorstop size stack of pages, she found the chapter on Master Fowley. The chapter started with a depiction of the man. He was tall, had dark hair, and a stern jawline. Next to him stood a shorter man, about average height. She began to read his story, hoping to discover something about how a Decayed truly became a master of their Order.
Fowley enjoyed a pleasant childhood with good parents and a community that cared for one another. His parents were thrilled at him having an ability and supported him in his career. He was a proponent for a more authoritarian ruler and thought the Order of the Lion lacked discipline, leaving the Kingdom without true leadership. His biggest claim to fame was when he caught and killed a serial killer that haunted the city of Mor. The murderer lacked any magical talent, but excelled in disguises and con-artistry. After reading about his success in finding the criminal, another picture showed him standing outside of the man’s prison cell along with the same man from the first picture.
On top of that, Fowley reached the fifth level in his Order younger than anyone else. It was noted that his mother suffered from an unknown illness that no one could heal. Fowley desired to progress in his powers quickly so he might heal her. He failed to save her, which spoiled his achievement. No one blamed him, considering that the other Masters couldn’t save her either. It took a few more years, but Fowley found someone else with similar symptoms and cured him. From then on, Fowley regularly traveled the known world, using his magic to help others. The picture after this story showed a woman sitting up in a sickbed with a smile on her face. Once again, the man of below average height stood on the other side of the bed.
Master Fowley died at a relatively young age when he hanged himself. Some speculated that he lost his gift of healing and he succumbed to depression. This last picture showed Master Fowley hanging from a tree. Alone. Linette finished reading his section. A tear rolled down her cheek.
Who was the man always with Master Fowley, except in the last depiction? She flipped to another chapter and noticed that this Master also had someone with them in each picture. She confirmed the same was true for all ten masters. She stuck her finger in the last spot and exited the Decayed section, locking it behind her. She walked over to the front of the library and found Viola logging a stack of books.
“Viola?”
The woman finishing marking her sheet and looked up. “Yes, dear?”
Linette plopped the book down in front of her and turned it around so Viola could see. “I was reading about Master Fowley and was wondering if you might answer a question.”
“And what is that?”
Linette flipped through the pages of Master Fowley’s chapter and she pointed out the pictures showing that each had another person along with the Master.
“Do you know why each Master always has another person with them? The only exception I found was when they showed Master Fowley’s death.”
Viola smiled. “Have you ever heard of a Keeper?”
“No.”
“Protect your Keeper, to keep your life. Never have children, to maintain your focus.”
“What’s that?” Linette asked.
“It’s the two rules. The Order of Man lived by them, at least until recently.”
“How do you know about this?”
Viola turned around and grabbed a book. She faced back to Linette and handed it to her.
The cover read: The Order of Man by Higel Jameston.
“This book just arrived. Higel died six months ago. It was his life’s work. You should read it. When you’re not, please keep it locked in the Decayed section.”
Linette held the book in her hand
s, hoping, almost willing, this book to give her the answers she needed.
“Did Aurora have access to this?”
“No, it came the day of the murders but didn’t make it to the library until after she left.”
Linette slumped her shoulders. Although this new revelation excited her, she needed to get back to her Order. She locked the books back in the Decayed section and exited the library.
She left the castle and took off on her nightly run back to the Order of the Eagle. She noticed Joshua waiting near a tree up ahead. She smiled at him.
“Waiting for me?” She asked.
“Maybe. Is that okay?”
She smiled again. They ran side by side, a light wind blowing against them. A full moon hung in the sky, lighting the path. The grass swayed, and she forgot about the sadness that Fowley’s death had brought her.
21 years ago…
Thomas grew frustrated with their search for the “four rules” that Master Fiona led them on so many years ago. A part of him feared his father would die prior to discovering them. Worse, they’d find them and it’d fail to show them the final progression. Yet, Higel reminded Thomas frequently that he suspected when they learned the truth behind the Order of Man, it’d become their job to protect the secret rather than gain acclaim for its discovery.
Thomas ignored that part. At least, he expected to use the knowledge for himself and keep it from everyone else. He’d reached the fifth progression quickly. They’d found the details in an obscure scroll a few years after Thomas stole that keg of magic in Mapleglen which he’d used to progress in his abilities. To reach the level, one had to seriously injure someone defenseless. The man in the vineyard had served that purpose but Thomas didn’t know what ability it provided him. When they’d found the scroll and interpreted the details, he learned that it allowed him to age someone.
After that, Higel made them take a break from their search. It only lasted a year. His father brought him into his study and declared that he’d start again. That the burden belonged to him and Thomas could pursue other topics of research. Thomas declined. Pleased, Higel made him promise that he’d keep all their findings a secret. Thomas accepted.
They continued their search, hearing from Master Fiona occasionally. She desired answers but also knew that the secrets of her Order were buried deep. Higel argued with her about the process by which they attained their powers but she reminded him that their abilities healed people. His father didn’t like that type of morality but he also continued his search. Higel and Thomas spent many years in Thurus at the Order of Man’s headquarters. They’d been given special access to their archives. After cataloging and reading through dozens of bookshelves over the past couple decades, they’d found no solid leads for details on the “four rules” or anything about a seventh progression. Fiona purposely kept the details on the first six progressions to herself. She insisted that Higel discover them for himself, hoping the act of learning them from his research would show him the path to learning all of them. That and Thomas believed she’d rather not face Higel when he first discovered their ugliness. Each time she visited Higel for updates, she expected him to relay what he’d learned about whichever level of magic he’d found in his research.
It took them the better part of twenty years to find the sixth level with no help from someone from the Order. They’d both guessed that to reach it, one had to murder someone.
They were right.
On the west coast of Thurus, they had found the ruins of an ancient city. One scroll mentioned a place called Senar. The author of the scroll frequently commented on the smell of salt in the air and his memories of watching the sunset over the ocean. When they first arrived, it appeared like land littered with big stones, but on closer inspection it was laid out like a small town. It had a perimeter fence and the remnants of square-shaped dwellings made of stone. The two of them, determined to find answers, started to dig out the city. In short Order, and lots of sweat, they found an underground cavern. After exploring it by candlelight for several hours, they found a gap in a wall. They pried it open, revealing a room full of dusty scrolls. Higel commissioned a boat to bring them and all the ‘treasure’ back to Kirean. More accustomed to sea travel, Thomas managed much better than his first trip to Thurus. On the way back home, he’d read the scrolls. Thomas hid nothing from his father—anything other than his ability in magic.
His readings led him to the sixth progression. Higel and Thomas scoured every detail, interpreting the words and concluding that a member of the Order of Man had to murder someone to reach said level. It spoke of the power to kill someone with magic. The implications of this weren’t lost on Thomas and his father. It meant that every member with the label of master in the Order of Man had committed murder. It also meant they could kill someone as easily as throwing a small rock.
It meant Fiona was a murderer, and she desired an unknown ability stronger than life itself.
Armed with this new information and with Higel’s command he make himself absent when Master Fiona came to visit, that Thomas decided to make his way to Mor. A city in Kebril and close to The Order of the Lion, Mor’s claim to fame lay in its rich ore. A mining town, it attracted and produced men of good stock—many of their children found their way into the Order of the Lion or as soldiers.
His mother continued to pester him about finding a wife. Truthfully, he enjoyed remaining single. Committing to another person for life didn’t appeal to him which was why he put it off. The women in Kirean fell short of his expectations in a woman. He’d once met a woman from Mor when he was much, much younger. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Her dark skin, combined with deep brown eyes were novel to him. Her wit and intelligence bespoke of a beauty inside that matched the outside. He didn’t intend to find her but hoped that he might stumble upon someone like her.
He reached the city near sunset and sought a place to stay for the night. After arranging lodgings at a place called, “The Pick Axe” he settled himself at a table in the corner of the main floor. A waitress brought him a mug of ale and a roasted chicken. Thomas savored every bite, surprised by the new flavors and spices he’d never tried before. His tongue tingled and his mouth watered with every taste. Miners filled the main floor, leaving Thomas with a ratio of men to women of about forty to zero. That is, until a pale-skinned woman with light brown hair entered. She grabbed the attention of every man in the place, each appraising her for a moment before returning to their brew and dinner. She approached the man serving drinks and spoke to him. She waited patiently, ignoring the continual glances in her direction from the group of men. After sometime, Thomas observed a tall, lanky man approach the woman.
“Looking for some company?” he spoke with a loud, drunk voice.
“No, thank you. I’ll be on my way shortly.”
“I’m heading to Gluon; I’d be happy to make you my wife and bring you along.”
She slapped him.
He raised his hand to beat her. Thomas reached the man in a few quick strides, grabbing his wrist. “I wouldn’t if I were you,” Thomas said, gesturing to the sword at his side.
It’s Vil. The older kid that Thomas had looked up to as a young kid. The one that made him feel like he’d need to steal an Kithnop egg to fit in.
Unfortunately, Vil backed down at the sight of the weapon. Thomas wanted to slit his throat. The woman stepped aside and found a seat at the bar. She nodded in his direction, a non-verbal thank you and Thomas found his seat.
Old feelings of anger surged inside of him. He hated Vil with every fiber of his being. Hated who he had been. Hated who he was now. It disgusted Thomas that his thoughts went directly toward his new knowledge about the sixth progression. Why am I so bothered by this? It was his father. Thomas loved his father; wished he had the same demeanor as him. When it came down to it, Thomas felt nothing of killing another person but it sickened him that his father might learn that truth at some point.
After learning about th
e Order of Man’s second deepest secret, he started to carry rat poison with him. It proved the easiest way to kill someone defenselessly. Thomas called the waitress and asked for another mug of ale. She brought it and he searched the room for prying eyes. When no one looked, he pulled out a vial of magic and one of the poison. He formed a sphere the size of a walnut and pushed it into the beer. It left a little room, allowing Thomas to add a few pinches of the rat poison.
Thomas walked over to where Vil sat and offered it as a peace offering. He ripped it from Thomas’s hand and gulped it down. Thomas left without a word.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Day 8 — Afternoon
Markus left Darfield without any resistance. He found a horse tied near the city gate. It had a shiny coat of fur and was saddled with the finest gear Markus had ever seen. He led the steed a little outside the city proper and climbed on. He continued south, hoping to reach the coast by dawn. He’d have to ride this horse harder than the one to Pinemere, but he feared news of the incident in Darfield would attract attention. Better to be in Thurus than on the mainland.
He let the horse warm up its muscles before progressing into a full gallop. His guilt started to settle in. Those men in Darfield only wanted to protect their town. I won’t blame them for doing what I would have done. The leader of the town only tried to rid him of his dark magic. He stopped the others from ending his life. They’d all live, thankfully, but it’d be some time before they worked again. His attempts to justify his actions didn’t assuage his shame. This task involved hurting people. How long before he’d need to kill someone? There were always casualties in war, but that didn’t make killing easier. It just let you tell yourself it was okay.
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