Death Mages Ascent

by Jon Bender

  Through all the shouts and sounds of battle he heard a roar come from the other side of the King’s chamber door. “As your King I command you to stand aside.” Within seconds the double doors swung open wide revealing the King and four guardsmen. Brandishing his falcon pommeled short sword and a round shield he strode forward. Seeing their target before them, the shades surged forward pushing the Guard aside by weight of numbers and aggression. Their charge was short lived as Corin met the first with a shield slam and a slash of the sword, tearing a bloody furrow down the shades chest. The line solidified once again with Corin at its center, almost seeming to hold them back by sheer force of presence.

  Gathering the power of death into himself, Jaxom looked over his shoulder to ensure Celia was still behind him. She gave him a grim nod and adjusted her double handed grip on the recovered shade’s sword. Raising his hand, Jaxom channeled his magic to the many dead lying about the large hall and twenty began to rise, three of which were dead Shades. He could feel his strength draining quickly from animating so many at once. It was chaos after that, Jaxom’s newly animated shades led the attack as they slashed at their former comrades confusing them. One of his Shades getting to close to a living guard who hacked an arm off with an axe. His risen throughout the hall fought without mercy in cutting the enemy down. A risen Shade shifted suddenly using the powers it had utilized during life. Even through the strain of maintaining the magic to keep them all fighting, Jaxom was shocked to see a shade had kept its abilities and the memory of how to use them. It was something to think on if he survived the night.

  One of the invaders must have figured out that the man standing completely still in the mayhem must be responsible for the turn in the battle. The Shade rushed forward at Jaxom who did not have the time to raise his own sword. The shade’s attack was met by Celia blocking the strike and the next which quickly followed. Taking direct control of a risen guard nearby Jaxom saw through the dead man’s eyes. As if it were his own body Jaxom charged the shade, tackling him to ground and holding him on his back as the shade swung at his face and neck. Celia appeared next to his head slashing down to cut the enemy’s throat. Releasing his control of the guard Jaxom came back to his own body, finding that the enemy was retreating through doors and down adjoining halls. Soon all that were left was Jaxom, Celia, and Corin with the remaining guard who had not set off in pursuit.

  Ten of his risen still remained capable of fighting and stood awaiting further commands. Seeing that the threat had passed Jaxom released the flow of magic, causing them to fall to the ground like puppets with their strings cut. Collapsing to a knee himself, he panted from the amount of energy he had used. Celia was there instantly trying to support him but he did not have the strength to stand. He had never channeled so much in such a short time before and was feeling unsteady from the effort. Corin came to his other side pulling Jaxom’s arm over his shoulder and lifting him up. He was vaguely aware of being carried into Corin’s chambers and being laid down on one of the couches. Jaxom tried to keep his eyes open but he felt so tired.

  “His leg, it’s still bleeding,” he heard Celia say. “It is deeper than I thought.”

  “Send to the temple for a priest and tell them to come at once,” Corin said probably to one of his men. “Stay with us Jaxom, I cannot reward you properly if you are dead.” Jaxom thought to say something witty in return, but all that came out was an incomprehensible mumble before exhaustion finally overtook him.

  Chapter 4

  He found himself staring up at an ornately decorated ceiling from a very large and comfortable bed. Light coming in through a large window indicated it was just past mid-morning. His entire body ached from the battle last night and his head throbbed like a drum. Looking down at himself he found that his bloody clothes had been removed and replaced with soft white cotton pants. A long cut in his chest that he did not remember receiving had been sutured, and reaching down to his leg he felt the raised skin of a scar that was weeks old but still tender to the touch.

  Throwing his legs over the side of the bed he stood slowly the leg supporting him with little discomfort. Food and water had been left on a nearby table, the sight of which instigated a growl from his stomach. Hobbling over to the table he sat down and began to devour the meal of roasted chicken and bread. There was a bottle of wine next to the pitcher of water, and after downing a cup of water he refilled it with the wine. Within minutes he had cleaned the plate and a satisfying feeling of fullness enveloped him. Standing from the chair to look for his clothes the door to the room opened and a young man in light blue robes entered. The man was shorter than Jaxom with dark brown eyes that matched his shoulder length hair. His mouth was upturned in a grin, as if he was constantly amused at something others could not understand.

  “Ah you are awake, and I am glad to see you are standing. The goddesses granted me the power to heal your wound, but I was unsure as to how soon you would be able to walk,” he said.

  The man was a priest of Sarinsha, a goddess who was widely worshiped throughout the city. Jaxom had never felt the need to pray to any god since he had first discovered he could channel magical energy. Many mages did not worship for much the same reason, why pray to a being of great power when you already possessed great power yourself. Even with their many abilities however, none had the ability to heal as the servants of the gods did. That gift seemed to have been denied from every school of magic including Jaxom’s own.

  “My name is Da’san,” the priest said offering his hand. Jaxom took it up shaking with as much strength as he could muster in his weakened state.

  “Thank you Da’san, I guess I owe you my life,” Jaxom said.

  “Not me, you owe your thanks to Sarinsha. She is the one who heard my prayers and gifted me with the power to heal you,” Da’san replied.

  Jaxom was not sure how to reply to that. He had never given much thought to the gods, and he was not sure how he felt about being in debt to one. Deciding that perhaps a monetary donation to her temple might suffice to repay. “I would be more than happy to send a gift to Sarinsha’s temple. To show my appreciation to your goddess.”

  “Any donation of course is appreciated but what our goddess truly desires is prayer,” Da’san said. “If you wish I can help lead you in devotion.”

  “Ah… thank you, but that will not be necessary. I think I will just make a contribution to your goddess.”

  The young priest gave a small smile. “Of course, if that is what you feel you owe for your life…” Well that stung a bit but not enough for him to fall for the compelled guilt. Clearing his throat Jaxom continued hunting for his clothes. “Your leg may be healed but with so many wounded last night I could not expend the goddess’s gift on non-life threatening injuries. Your other injuries had to be tended with more mundane measures,” Da’san said, gesturing to the chair near the now empty plate.

  Sitting back down Jaxom allowed the priest to look at his chest and place a palm over the closed wound. Da’san then moved behind him do the same to his back on another cut he had not been aware of. “There is no infection, and if it has not set in yet I doubt it will,” Da’san said. Moving to a trunk at the foot of the bed he opened it. Pulling out clothes and a set of boots he offered them to Jaxom. “The King wished you to visit him in the council room when you were able.”

  Da’san turned away while Jaxom dressed. Being careful of the sutures he pulled the white shirt over his head, the tightness in his muscles a reminder to go slowly. Once dressed he realized that his sword was missing and a small thread of panic crept into him. Searching about frantically he could not see his treasured weapon anywhere in the room. Da’san once again reached into the trunk retrieving his coveted blade. Holding the blade horizontally the priest drew the sword a few inches from the scabbard and examined the shining metal. “It is a marvelous piece of work. I can feel the power that was imbued within it, though I could not discern the nature of the enchantment.” Taking the blade from the man, Jaxom sheathed
it before buckling the belt around his waist. He knew that the added wright on his injured leg was not going to be comfortable but he had no intention of leaving the sword behind for the priest to examine further. Thanking the priest again the young man gave a slight bow in recognition.

  Once in the hall Jaxom realized he had been placed in one of the rooms close to Corin’s own, perhaps his injury had been too severe to allow him to be moved. Making his way down the large hall there was no sign of the bloodshed and death that had occurred only hours before. The castle staff had obviously been hard at work returning the place to order. Passing a pair of Corin’s personal guards, one whose arm was wrapped in bandages, the two men brought there right hand to the center of their chest in salute. The gesture of respect gave Jaxom pause as none had ever done that for him before. Not knowing how to respond Jaxom took a page out of Corin’s book, giving them a firm nod in recognition that seemed to satisfy them as they went back to a more relaxed position.

  The council room was thankfully not far, taking him only five minutes to arrive. Finding two more guards outside the doors, they saluted as well before opening the doors and allowing him entry. He only had a moment to wonder what was going on with them before walking in. Corin and Celia were standing on opposite sides of the large map table. They appeared to be in a staring contest with neither willing to blink first. Between them the large square table painted with a map of Ale’adaria held blocks showing friendly and enemy positions. From what he could discern much of their army was still gathering, thankfully none of invading force had yet to cross their borders. Around the room were men of the Guard and the army including General Blackburn who all seemed to be looking anywhere but at the King and his cousin.

  Three mages were also present, the oldest among them was Serin Valsch, a fire mage and leader of the hundred or so mages loyal to Corin. The mages themselves did not reside in the castle, having their own smaller castle within the city. Jaxom had never been inside that building as the mages and their families were the only one allowed entry. He had never received an invitation to join them within the castle, most choosing to ignore that he even existed.

  Everyone besides Corin and Celia had taken notice of his arrival, one of the younger mages giving Jaxom a look of disgust. All looked decidedly uncomfortable in the silence of room, standing quietly as his friends had a battle of wills. “I can come back later if this is a bad time your majesty,” Jaxom said trying to break the awkward silence.

  Breaking her glare, Celia lifted her chin slightly as if to indicate she had won by taking the higher road. “Jaxom I am so glad that you are awake, you had us worried for most of the night,” she said. Corin continued to stare at her but for her part she appeared to have forgotten he was there.

  “Yes I am feeling much better now, and I think I have you to thank for that your majesty,” Jaxom said to Corin. The King finally looked to him and his glare melted to his usual stern demeanor. “If you had not called for the priest I doubt I would be here right now.”

  “What a shame that would have been,” the younger mage who had given him the disgusted look said quietly. Serin glared at the younger man his eyes commanding silence.

  “Yes, well I could not very well let my savior die after such a valiant effort could I,” Corin said, a small smile coming to his face.

  “And my Savior as well,” Celia said. Walking over to him, she gave him a small kiss on the cheek. Two kisses in as many days, the guards saluting him, Corin calling him his savior, had the world been turned upside down while he was out?

  Clearing his throat Jaxom tried to shake off all the uncomfortable attention. “You wished to see me about something your majesty?”

  “Magus Serin here,” Corin said indicating the man. “Wished a more complete analysis of the shadow men’s abilities. Since you were the only mage present… an oversight we have just corrected. I thought you would be better able to explain their castings,” he said.

  Jaxom wondered what he had meant by an oversight being corrected, but decided to wait to ask about it. “Of course your majesty, though I do not believe the Shades were actually casting.”

  “Shades?” Corin asked.

  “Yes, that is what I thought to call them.”

  “I guess that is a bit better than shadow men,” he said.

  “Why do you think they were not casting?” Serin asked regarding Jaxom with serious light brown eyes. The man was considerably older than Jaxom with a full head of white hair and leathery skin. His thin frame closer to Corin’s height than his own making him appear skeleton like.

  “I never actually saw them cast. Their abilities seemed to be innate, like any man can jump or swing a sword.”

  “I can agree with that Serin,” Corin said dropping the honorary title. It was known that the two men had a dislike for each other and Jaxom feared that his lack of acceptance among the mages may have been at the root of that dislike. “I did not see any of them cast as I have seen it done. They simply seemed to do it.

  “So what do you think it was then Magus Jaxom?” Serin said ignoring the Kings statement.

  Jaxom had not actually had time to consider how they were doing it. He placed a hand on his sword while thinking on it and something clicked in his mind. “An enchantment of some sort. That is the only thing that makes sense.”

  Serin was obviously taken aback with that statement. No one in written history had ever been successful at enchanting a man. It was believed that it was impossible to imbue magic into a living creature. With the amount of shades that were present last night, the ramifications of such a concept was staggering. If men could be enchanted with those abilities what else could be done? The young mage scoffed at Jaxom’s statement which earned him another glare from Serin.

  “Well then I guess we will need to examine the bodies of these… Shades,” Serin said.

  That was exactly what Jaxom had been planning in any case. It was likely he could delve into the mind of one. Perhaps he could discover who had sent them.

  “We have the remains stored for now. Until they could be taken out and burned,” Corin said. “Jaxom you may look at them when you feel up to,” he continued, looking Jaxom directly in the eye indicating he had been thinking as Jaxom was.

  “If you wish you may have a look now Magus Serin,” the King said returning his attention back to the older mage.

  “Yes I think it will be best, but if Jaxom is correct in his assumption. Than like other enchantments it will have broken once the vessel was destroyed. Still it cannot hurt to inspect them anyway,” Serin said.

  “Very good, if you ask one of the men outside they will direct you to where the bodies are being kept,” Corin said gesturing towards the door. A dismissal if Jaxom had ever seen one.

  Serin and the two mages left the room without another word, pretending that everyone there had simply vanished into thin air.

  Corin looked about at the rest of the people still present. “That will be all for today. You have your duties to attend to in preparation and I suggest you get to it. General Blackburn and Jaxom please stay I have more to discuss with you,” he said. The men began to file out leaving them, but Celia had not moved from where she had been standing. The King gave her a hard stare but said nothing until the door was closed again.

  “I told you Celia that my answer was no,” Corin said.

  “I have every right to command. My father is not young enough to lead men into battle,” she said. Her voice rising as they picked up the argument where they had left off when Jaxom had arrived.

  “You have not had the proper training in combat and command. You would only be putting your life and the lives of others in unnecessary danger,” Corin said.

  “Of course I have had training. What do you think I have been doing at my father’s holding? Trying on pretty dresses?” she said. Her voice practically dripping with sarcasm and frustration.

  Corin spread his hands palms up indicating that was exactly what he thought. Celia took a st
ep towards him, perhaps to give a demonstration of how deadly trying on pretty dresses could be Jaxom thought. The General interrupted then by clearing his throat before things got out of hand. When the King argued with any of his family, Corin had made it clear for others to stay out of it unless directly told to take action.

  “Perhaps we can let Jaxom decide if Lady Celia can handle herself. He was with her last night, so he should have a good estimation of her capabilities,” Nelix said.

  Both Corin and Celia looked to the General. “That is a great idea,” Celia said. “Jaxom can tell you. I saved him last night.”

  “I thought you said he saved you,” Corin said.

  “We saved each other,” Celia replied easily avoiding the trap Corin had laid.

  “Very well, we will let Jaxom decide,” Corin said. His tone obvious in which way he thought Jaxom should fall on the matter.

  All three looked at him and he gave the general a withering glare to which the old man gave a mischievous smile in return, one that said better you than me. Celia looked at him with joy as if the issue had already been settled, while Corin simply waited expecting his oldest friend to side with him. Great, no matter what he said one of them was not going to be happy with him. Even though he was the King, Corin would not use his power to make him regret siding against him, as his friend however he could expect unpleasant repercussions. With Celia it could go either way, she would either shout and yell at him or not talk to him at all for however long she felt was an appropriate punishment. With no good option presenting itself Jaxom decided that the truth was probably the best way to go… he hoped.

  “Celia did save me last night, twice in fact. She seems to handle a blade well enough,” Jaxom said waiting to see what happened next.