by JD Franx
“What?” Ember asked, but was hushed by Saleece.
Salabriel chuckled. “Watch and learn, child.” Giddeon touched Ember’s arm, guiding her back away from the table. Saleece followed as Salabriel closed her eyes, raising her arms to encompass the tablets and the table. Several seconds passed before her eyes snapped open. “Hlif Hata,” she barked, as a shimmering globe of pale green enveloped the marble table and the stone tablets. The Elvehn scholar faltered for a second as the spell completed its formation.
Ember leapt to support her, taking her arm and steadying her around the waist. “Are you okay? What was that spell for?”
Taking a deep breath, Salabriel seemed to quickly recover. “It’s a protective spell. Tomorrow, everyone here will get a control word for the spell. It’ll allow you access to the tablets. We can’t have them stolen until we are sure they’re not spell Cenotaphs.”
“What happens if someone doesn’t have the control word?” Ember asked.
Salabriel placed a gentle hand on Ember’s shoulder, guiding her towards the door. “Artifacts like these are not a game, my dear. If someone were to try to steal them, they would die and the tablets would be destroyed. Now come. How about we get some food and drink brought down and you can fill me in on your story instead?” She looked back over her shoulder at Giddeon and Saleece. “Then we can get to work, or do you still have a prior commitment to attend to?”
The ArchWizard frowned, chewing his bottom lip with indecision. “We’ll stay. Our prior commitment is too closely related to what we may find here, at least from what you’ve just said anyway. We’d better find out as much as we can.”
They left the room and headed for the living quarters Salabriel had found days earlier. They ran into Toman and six of the town guard on their way. Giddeon explained everything and asked Toman to have the inn send some food and drink down to the living quarters. Two guards were asked to keep watch at the entrance with strict orders to stop curious people from entering and accidentally triggering Salabriel’s spell that protected the tablets. The remaining guards were released to return to their normal duties.
Salabriel led Giddeon and the rest of his group down a small flight of stone stairs to a large communal area with small, two-bed sleeping quarters down the halls off to the sides. Once they were all comfortable, Giddeon recalled the events of the past two weeks, telling Salabriel everything. She was already well aware of the events from twenty years ago. It was she who nearly sat with the other Elvehn sorcerers to supply power to the bridge’s glyph during Kael’s banishment. A pirate attack against her ship had delayed her arrival. Being too late to help had inadvertently saved her life. Unable to wait, the ritual went on without her. The explosive force of the dimensional gate closing claimed all the lives of those who had volunteered. Giddeon’s life long friend, Oripar Lightfoot, sat in her place, and died in her stead.
Toman arrived an hour later with two of the inn’s serving girls to help with their supper. Once the food was served, Giddeon let Toman head home for the night, but made sure he understood that he was welcome to return in the morning if he wanted to remain acting as their liaison with the town. He agreed, and headed home for some much-needed rest.
No one said anything for the longest time after Giddeon had recalled all that had happened. They ate in silence. But always the open-minded scholar, Salabriel was soon the first to break the uneasy quiet.
Clearing her throat, she asked, “Giddeon? Are you interested in a debate on your convictions about DeathWizards?”
Yrlissa jumped into the conversation, clearly worried about the effect it would have on Ember. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Kael is Ember’s husband and Max’s best friend. This will only cause to hurt them.”
Ember smiled as she put her hand on Yrlissa’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Lissa, I don’t mind. Nothing they can say or show me will change what we know about Kael.”
Max wasn’t so forgiving. “Sure, as long as they don’t mind the flat of my sword upside their heads, everything will be just fine.” Kasik grunted at the threat but said nothing directly.
Salabriel did her best to keep the situation light-hearted. “How about just a simple discussion? I want Giddeon’s and Seleece’s outlook on some things that I’ve found over the last decade since I last had time to really talk with them. Nothing more, trust me. I’m too old to be ducking the flat edge of a sword. Especially from one his size,” she joked.
His interest piqued by her question, Giddeon asked, “What exactly did you have in mind?”
Rubbing the knuckles of her left hand, deep in thought, she finally answered. “All right. Giddeon, Saleece, have you ever given any thought as to how or why these DeathWizards came to be?”
In all his years of studying them Giddeon had never once thought about their origins. They were evil and incredibly dangerous, nothing else had ever seemed to matter. A little shocked, he wasn’t sure what to say.
“Ah… I never really thought about how they came to be,” he explained. “It never seemed to matter. The Blood Kingdom’s and Talohna’s doctrine has always been to destroy them, hoping to avoid another disaster like the one with Jasala Vyshaan. Prior to that, there’s virtually no information on them.”
Smiling, Salabriel nodded. “I know. Just think about it for a minute. Where do you think they came from? Do you think they are a natural evolution? Or maybe a mutation? Perhaps they were made? By the gods, or by one of the old factions devoted to evil? By demons even? Personally, I’m curious. We intelligent beings begin to wonder about such things the closer we get to the end of our lives. I have studied them my entire life, you know that. I think their existence is a mystery worth investigating, Giddeon. If for no other reason than to help us fight them. I’m willing to bet that there is a lot we don’t know.”
Yrlissa cleared her throat and leaned forward, her eyes locked on the female scholar’s. “And just what is your opinion, Salabriel?” she asked. Her voice was tight and cold. The danger of the situation added a chill to the air. As the others watched, Ember shivered with unease and Kasik’s hand slowly dropped to his sword.
The Elven scholar held the young assassin’s stare, never shifting her eyes or bowing under the intimidating pressure for a single second. “I think they were created by someone for a reason, using incredibly powerful but volatile magic. Whether for good or evil, I am sure only the gods know now. Power like that granted to the DeathWizards is far beyond what we can do today. As far as some stories go, it is far beyond the level of normal magic even before the damage caused by the Cataclysm. That doesn’t seem to be a natural evolution or a mutation, but more like something created for a specific purpose. A weapon.” Yrlissa offered a crooked smile and sat back, her eyes dancing with a strange light. Salabriel was the only one to see it.
The scholar’s thoughts and the implications of them caused a silence to permeate through the halls of the ruins. Gods created new life, no one else. The weight of such a reality made Giddeon turn a shade of green, as if his stomach twisted like a knot. With no one offering to comment, Salabriel took a deep breath and added. “But what do I know? I’m just an old woman who has spent too many long years in ruins like these. How about you, Giddeon?” she finally asked.
“I have no idea. I wouldn’t even hazard a guess. Is that what you really think, though? That’s a thought that scares the crap out of me. It means the gods created them. Why in Perdition’s Nine Hells would the gods create such a thing for?”
With a warm smile that could only come from years of knowledge and lessons learned, Salabriel shrugged her shoulders. “That is the question to be answered, isn’t it? I do believe they were created for a specific reason, Giddeon, and I would not be surprised to find the hands of several gods involved. Such incredible power never manifests naturally. You know that. Something happened many thousands of years ago that brought about what we call a DeathWizard. The real question is… why? Were they made for the purpose of evil? Was it a mistake? Or a rogu
e god? Is it a corruption? That’s how we treat them after all. Does such corruption come from outside entities, or the magic they have access to, that which comes from the underworld? Does the power of death corrupt them? Answers worth finding I think, ArchWizard. Too much of our history was lost during the Cataclysm, and it’s possible those answers are here in this dusty ruin. There is mention of them in the writings. More importantly, Ember is right; whoever carved those tablets wanted them to last forever. Cenotaph or not, there must be a reason why.”
With the direction of the conversation beginning to upset Ember, Yrlissa spoke up. “I believe that without all the facts sitting right in front of them, people should not jump to conclusions. Every race in the last several thousand years seems to act without all the facts being present or without thinking things through. The Wildland Wars is a damn good example. Our race, Salabriel, the Elvehn? We never used to do things like that and neither did the Humans. So many things have changed, and most are not for the better.”
Salabriel stared intently at Yrlissa before she answered. “Well, girl, on that much we certainly agree.”
Yrlissa got up and took Ember’s hand. “Come, vehr nahlla. You need to rest and I need my medicine for the evening.” Salabriel raised her eyebrow at the Elvehn term Yrlissa used with Ember but said nothing. They left the common room and entered the bedchambers just down the hall to one side.
“We didn’t have to leave, Lissa, if you wanted to stay,” Ember said, as she sat on one of the beds.
“There was no reason to stay, nahlla. Their opinions will never change, those bred on fear never do. It is sad that Human and Elvehn-kind must always destroy what they don’t understand.”
“I know what you mean.” Ember smiled. “We have that exact saying back home. What man does not understand or what he fears, he tries to destroy. I guess humans are the same no matter what plane of existence they’re from.” She laughed, but it carried a sadness.
“Yes, I suppose it does not bode well for future generations when children are exposed to such fear and ignorance does it?” Yrlissa speculated. “But how about we speak of lighter things? You and Kael had no plans for children yet, before this all happened?” she asked, as she removed her cloak and black leather clothing in preparation of a rare, safe night’s sleep.
“No, we hadn’t really thought about it yet. You have to remember that after the night Kael was shot, I spent most of my time just trying to help him recover. He lost the use of his arm because of it, and he suffered with incredible pain from the nerve damage. It just wasn’t a priority at the time, I guess. How about you? All those years and no husband or children?” The dark shadow of memory ghosted across Yrlissa’s features.
“There were two men I loved. Many, many years apart. The second, he was Human, strangely enough. And a very good man, too good for me. We had a child. I kept them both secret from the guild; it was not difficult to do as some contracts took years to complete. It was while on one of those that I met him and we had Cassandra, Cassie we called her. But it didn’t last. I came home after being gone for a few hours—I had just completed a contract and I was going to tell him everything so that we could disappear together. I could stay ahead of the guild forever with the knowledge I have. But upon my return, I found the house had been burnt to the ground with both of them inside. My baby girl was only just past her first year of life. I lifted her charred bones from the ashes of her bed.” She stopped, her lips quivering with the pain of the past.
Ember stared in horror.
“I don’t know for sure what happened, not to this day. I suspect that the sins of my past contributed to their deaths. Witches, possibly Dead Sisters, committed the act and tried to frame my guild, but I don’t know who ordered it, if anyone. Witches just do these things…” Tears welled in her eyes, but none ran down her cheeks.
“Oh, my god. I’m so sorry,” Ember sighed, full of grief. She crossed over to Yrlissa’s bed and sat down, hugging her for support. “I didn’t know. I feel terrible. I’m so sorry for asking.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. I have this to remember them by,” she smiled, while showing Ember an exquisite charm made from polished purple stones that hung from her neck. “He was a farmer and a stone carver, one of the best the Blood Kingdoms had, or so I thought. I found out later that there was more to him as well, secrets he had kept from me that were just as deadly as the ones I kept. I don’t believe I will ever find out what really happened that night but it matters little now. It was more than eleven years ago. They’re gone, but will always be in my heart.”
An uneasy silence hung in the stale air of the ruins for several minutes before Ember worked up the nerve to ask about Yrlissa’s first love. “I hope the first time around turned out better?” Ember smiled and gently bumped Yrlissa’s shoulder as a way of lightening the mood.
It worked. Yrlissa’s light chuckle making Ember’s smile turn to laughter. “The first man I loved? Yes, somewhat. It was during a time of war. Max reminds me of him. They don’t look the same but he had that same incredible strength and way they look at the world. Everything the two of you have been through and Max hasn’t batted an eye or complained.”
“That’s just Max,” Ember continued laughing, as she wiped her eyes. “I think he’s enjoying himself.” She took a quick peek over her shoulder to make sure they were still alone, and lowered her voice. “At least a little anyway. Kael used to call him a pragmatic fool.” Both women burst out laughing at her words.
After they regained control of themselves, Yrlissa couldn’t stop smiling. Ember noticed that it was becoming a regular habit, at least around her and Max.
Yrlissa sighed, weariness more than taking its toll. “I think I would like some sleep now, Ember. Rest well.”
As Giddeon readied himself for bed, the earlier conversation kept replaying in his head. Objections and arguments invaded every thought as the downside to a wizard’s busy mind took control. DeathWizards were dangerous. It didn’t matter why or how they came to be; their actions showed their true nature every single time. The public was unaware of the DeathWizards who had been killed during his reign as ArchWizard. Both King Joran Bale and his father before him had ordered their deaths to remain a secret in order to prevent public panic. Giddeon had witnessed the deaths of three such creatures in the last sixty years. The first was newborn, but didn’t die at Giddeon’s hands. His mentor, the ArchWizardess Calladia Veht, held that responsibility, the obligation granted by the official office of ArchWizard. Giddeon still had nightmares from having to stand idly by while a newborn child was executed.
The second death was forty years ago and the girl had lived to be nine. It had taken years to track her down because her family had kept her hidden, along with the help of Mydea Veht, his mentor’s sister. Though their protectiveness was understandable, it was a fatal mistake for the family. The nine-year-old girl butchered her birth mother, father, two brothers, and a toddler-aged sister. A mere child, years from being able to bond with the earth under normal circumstances, had nearly killed both Talohna’s ArchWizards with the simplest of ease. Mydea Veht, his mentor’s sister, had helped the girl, confirming their suspicions that Mydea was a Dead Sister. The ten master wizards accompanying Giddeon and Calladia were seriously injured as the young girl and Mydea stood their ground and fought. Only luck and the First Pillar’s lightening-quick reflexes were all that had saved Giddeon from harm before they managed to subdue the pair. Calladia Veht hadn’t been as lucky. She survived for three days. Long enough to sever both of the captured wizards’ crua after the DeathWizard’s short trial. Eventually, Calladia passed away. The dark magic racing through her blood couldn’t be healed even though two Pillars of Rule, the Wizard and the Priestess, had worked relentlessly to save her.
The final DeathWizard Giddeon had executed himself, though he barely survived the confrontation. If Kasik had not been at his side, Giddeon wouldn’t have survived. Giddeon still carried an eighteen-inch scar along his ribc
age on the left side, evidence of the mistake in thinking the ten-year-old-girl was scared and could be helped. The magical black blade had cut through Giddeon’s shield and then into his flesh as if both were made of air. Born during the same Black Sun that Kael was born under, the girl had been completely missed by every realm official. The small town located in southern Yusat had no idea the danger within their midst, until another family died when the girl lost control. Giddeon ached from what he had to do and the memories of the child’s death cries would haunt him forever.
Giddeon struggled for several seconds to reassert control over his wandering thoughts. Running his finger over the jagged scar along his ribs, he shook his head at the prideful error and his mind calmed. It was the last mistake he would make when it came to such creatures. There would be no more misunderstandings, no lapses of judgement, and certainly no pity-induced hesitation, even though this DeathWizard was his son.
Chapter Twenty-Two
We have been in these ruins for days now. The translation for the first tablet is nearly complete. Even though I have never laid eyes on this language before, it still seems so familiar. I’ve studied it every waking moment I’ve had. The more I do, the easier it becomes to understand. The complexities of this language are incredible; the pronunciation of a single syllable can change the entire meaning of a word. I have tried to show Giddeon but his knowledge is so much more extensive than mine that I can’t persuade him to see. I will continue studying as we travel, and when I have proof I will show him. Soon, I hope, because I think his translation is partially wrong.
I can’t believe he is Kael’s father. They are nothing alike. My God, I never thought I could miss someone this much. Please watch over Kael, Lord, and bring us together again.
EXCERPT FROM EMBER’S DIARY
END-WINTER, 5025 PC.
