Blood-Stained Heir (Ascent Archives Book 1)

by T. Norman

  They formed a circle, eight of them with four chains whipping through the air. The lion, after he was finished with his second course, began stalking around the men, watching their every move.

  The slave to Rysh’s left, growing impatient, lunged forward, trying to swing at the lion. His chain hit the ground hard and was immediately grabbed by the lion. The slave was ripped from the group and into the lion’s hungry grasp.

  Rysh watched as the lion stepped on the man’s head, killing him instantly, then continued to stalk around the group. He wasn’t hungry anymore; now he wanted to kill.

  The lion continued to prowl as Rysh and the other slaves whipped the chains through the air. He could feel his arms getting tired. “We need to switch who is whipping, but do it one at a time. Don’t give him an opening.”

  When the lion was directly in front of him, Rysh called out to the slave on the opposite side of the circle, “Switch, now!”

  The man let his arms fall and passed the chain to the man next to him. The new slave quickly picked up the chain and after a few spins, got it working in motion with the others. The lion continued to prowl and when he was on Rysh’s left, he called to the man to his right, “Switch.”

  As the slave dropped his arms and passed the chain, the lion launched himself around the circle, lunging in at the two men doing the trade. Rysh had no time to react as the circle broke apart and the lion went on the hunt.

  Rysh ran, knowing the lion could be on his heels at any moment. He found the boundary of the arena and put his back to the wall. He turned and saw mass confusion. The other slaves had fled, as well, and the lion lunged from one to the other, enjoying the sport of the kill.

  Rysh could only see three other slaves standing in the arena, all of whom had made it to a side. One had a chain, as did Rysh. The other two were unarmed, and cowered against the wall. The lion stalked around the circle, taking out the two unarmed men first. Rysh frantically looked around for a way out when he saw Two Foot still standing in the arena where they had first gathered. His eyes were closed, but there wasn’t a scratch on him.

  The other slave with a chain looked at Rysh, expecting him to give him an order. Rysh hadn’t noticed how large the man was. From his build, he knew he was a soldier and would go down putting up a fight. Rysh gave a nod toward Two Foot and began to run.

  The lion, seeing their movement, looked to the center of the circle at Two Foot standing still. He licked his lips as he bent his hind legs and lunged forward.

  Rysh had no time to think as he charged toward Two Foot. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the lion charging as well. He had no idea if he would make it in time, or when he did, what he was going to do.

  Only twenty feet separated Rysh and Two Foot when he saw the lion leap forward and land in front of Two Foot, roaring at his blank face. Two Foot’s eyes remained closed, and the lion seemed to be struggling against something.

  Rysh acted quickly. He whipped his chain at the lion, wrapping it around his neck. The other slave followed suit, and soon they had the lion trapped between the two chains. The animal began fighting and pulling, trying to force one of them to lose their grip.

  Rysh felt his grip start to fail as his skin was ripped apart by the hard metal. He wrapped the chain around his waist, trying to hold on with all his might. He saw the slave across from him do the same.

  Two Foot continued to stand in front of the lion with his eyes closed, some invisible barrier preventing the lion from attacking him.

  Rysh closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pulled with all his might. Rysh was leaning back with his whole body when he felt the pressure of the chain release, causing him to fall on his back. He quickly shot up and saw the limp body of the lion lying in front of Two Foot.

  He took a step toward the body when Two Foot collapsed, blood dripping from his nose.

  44

  Everything was a blur. Julia watched in shock as an unconscious Two Foot was brought into the healers, along with Rysh and another slave, whose hands and torsos were raw and bloody. In addition, the bodies of nine slaves, unrecognizable due to their injuries, came in to be cleaned.

  All Julia could do was watch the healers as they cleaned the wounds and gave the men herbs for their pain. She had nothing to offer her hurt friends, no comfort to give.

  Julia found herself sneaking off to the latrine to vomit She would never adjust to seeing so much blood and gore.

  By nightfall, the healing chambers were calm and the only healer left was Gloria, the old woman Julia was assisting. Julia watched as Gloria examined a sleeping Rysh, looking at his hands and side. His skin was bright red and warm. Julia knew he risked an infection.

  “Is he going to be okay?” Julia asked. She knew she would get reprimanded for speaking later, but she had to know.

  Gloria, her face worn from years of working in the slave pits, turned to look at Julia, who stood a few feet from the bed.

  “I believe his wounds are infected. The other man is the same.” Gloria turned back to Rysh to continue washing his wounds.

  Julia stood and watched, worried. She felt her arms and legs begin to tremble as tears rolled down her cheeks. Julia shut her eyes, trying to fight back her tears, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped back, opening her eyes to see Gloria standing facing her.

  “How do you know him?”

  Julia couldn’t figure out what it was, but the woman in front of her made her feel safe and comforted. She opened up and told their whole story. The only detail she left out was about who she really was. When she finished she was fully crying, choking on the words. “Please, I can’t lose him.”

  Gloria cocked her head, examining the young girl curiously. “I can save him, and the soldier, but it will come at a cost.”

  Julia’s eyes lit up with hope. “Whatever it is, you need to do it!”

  Gloria nodded slowly, closing her eyes. “I need you to go lock the door, and then help me move the crippled man closer to us.” Julia nodded quickly, her thoughts in a daze with the possibility of Rysh’s survival.

  She quickly latched the door, running back to Two Foot and helping Gloria carry him to a bed near Rysh and the other slave.

  Gloria pulled her stool next to Two Foot, and holding her hands slightly above his chest, she began to chant.

  Julia was paralyzed with fear, and couldn’t move from where she stood. She saw Two Foot’s body start to tremble. “What are you doing to him?” she managed to cry out. Tears started flowing down her cheeks again.

  “You asked me to save your friend, which is what I am doing. Now be quiet.” The tone in Gloria’s voice sent chills down Julia’s spine.

  Two Foot gave a frantic shake, followed by stillness. Gloria stopped chanting and moved her hands to Rysh, holding them slightly above him. She began a new chant, which to Julia’s surprise, made her feel warm inside.

  Julia watched as Rysh’s hands slowly began to heal right before her eyes. Gloria quickly turned to the other man and continued the same chant. In what seemed like hours, but was only a few minutes, Gloria stopped chanting and slouched her shoulders in exhaustion.

  “They will both live,” she breathed, her energy gone.

  Julia sat in silence, staring at the old woman. She couldn’t believe what she had just witnessed. Gloria used magic; even worse, blood magic. She knew the stories, knew the terrible things that could be done with that power. She couldn’t control her stomach as she turned away from the tables and threw up once more.

  “I know you probably have many questions, and I will answer all of them.” Julia looked up to see Gloria staring at her, her face renewed with color and energy.

  “Did you kill him?” Julia knew the answer, but had to hear the words.

  Gloria let out a laugh. “Yes, and no.” Julia’s head spun as she tottered to a nearby stool; she didn’t know what the woman was trying to say. “What do you know of magic?” the woman asked.

  Julia struggled to find words. She never dr
eamed she would be discussing magic. “I know that witches and wizards have to kill people to use their magic.” Gloria laughed, sending Julia reeling off her stool in surprise and to the floor.

  “I’m sorry, my dear, but you’re greatly mistaken. I know you’re scared right now, but if you give me a chance to explain what magic really is, I think you will understand.” She reached forward, offering Julia a hand off the floor.

  Hesitantly, Julia reached her hand out, grasping the woman’s thin, pale hands.

  “Where to begin,” Gloria smiled at Julia as she took her seat. “Anyone can only run so long without getting tired, or work so long without losing energy. For those of us with magic, it works in the same way. Each of us has a certain amount that we can use, some more than others and some less.” Gloria paused.

  “That makes sense, I guess.”

  Gloria smiled again as she continued. “Good. Magic, like physical energy, needs time to be regained. Once you use up your magic, it will take time for it to recover. At least, this was how the world worked, until many years ago, when the Del Brotherhood found a way around our individual wells of magic. It is what we now call blood magic.” She paused again, making sure Julia was following her story.

  Julia didn’t know what to say, so she nodded as the woman continued.

  “Every individual has a certain amount of magical energy within them; the only difference is that we mages—yes, we are called mages, not witches or wizards—have the ability to harness that magic. The Del Brotherhood figured out that when someone dies, that magical energy is released and can be harnessed by any nearby mage. This was a useful tool for those individuals who only have a small well of magic, since they don’t have to use their own and thus never get exhausted. After time, the old way of using magic was lost and the world turned against mages.”

  Julia shook her head in disbelief. Gloria’s story made sense, but she still couldn’t wrap her mind around it. “Why did you kill Two Foot?” She had been aching to ask, but was also terrified to hear the answer.

  Gloria nodded, expecting the question. “If a mage uses all of their energy, and I mean all of it, they will die. There is a state of limbo where someone uses too much, but not enough to die, and they’re left helpless. This is what happened to your friend. He didn’t leave enough so that he could regain his energy, but he also didn’t use it all so that he would die. It is a difficult area to manage, and many individuals without proper training fall into this.”

  Julia clenched her fists, furious at the woman for taking the life of her friend. “Why did you have to kill him? Couldn’t you have healed him instead?”

  “My own well is too small; I can only heal minor injuries. I am of use here, though.” She let out a small whimper as she said, “When fighters come to me with wounds that are too severe, I make the choice of who lives and who dies. It isn’t a decision I enjoy making.”

  Julia stood from her stool, walking to Rysh, who was still unconscious on his bed. He stirred in his slumber as Julia placed her hand on his.

  “Why did you help him?” Julia believed the woman’s story, but her reasoning behind showing her magic left her suspicious.

  “I needed you to see, I needed you to trust me, and I needed you to believe.” Julia turned to see Gloria staring, not at her but almost through her.

  “Why?”

  Gloria continued to stare. “Very few mages are born with a second gift, but for those of us who are, we are able sense others who have the ability to wield magic.”

  Julia shook her head. She knew what the woman was going to say, but she didn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe it.

  “I have the gift, and I can see when someone has the potential to wield magic.” She shifted her gaze to look Julia directly in the eyes. “You have the gift of magic.”

  45

  Tyrell heard the news that scouts had arrived and Bravestone was under siege. King Stowen marched with the army, but Tyrell decided to stay behind with Lady Velmar and her host.

  He had continued his lessons with Allison. To his disappointment, they hadn’t used a human since the pale man. She had brought in a host of different animals, letting him kill them and use their energy as his own. He felt stronger, but he longed for the same rush he had felt when killing the man.

  Tyrell often found himself walking aimlessly around the halls of Daleon when he couldn’t sleep. He had discovered many hidden affairs and relationships, servants stealing, and other crimes of passion.

  Tyrell swept his hand along the wall as he walked, feeling the cold stone beneath his fingers. He focused on the cold, letting it enter his body, using it to try and cool the flame burning within him. His feet led him down winding paths, eventually leading him to his training room.

  Without having to knock, Tyrell entered the room. He wasn’t surprised when he entered to lit candles and Lady Velmar sitting at a table reading an old leather-bound book.

  “Tyrell, it’s good to see you, as always.” Allison looked up from her book with a cold smile. “We don’t have a lesson tonight. What brings you down here?”

  Tyrell stood in the doorway, shifting his weight. “I was walking, and just ended up here.”

  Allison gestured to the chair across from her. “Please, have a seat,” she said. Tyrell sat down without a second thought; now that he was in the room with Lady Velmar, he was hungry for knowledge.

  “I can see there is much on your mind. What would you like to know?” Allison set her book down, leaving it open.

  Tyrell’s hands shook as he thought. He didn’t know what it was that he wanted. “I want to know more, anything you can teach me,” he finally said.

  Allison smiled and shook her head. “My dear Tyrell, you are so thirsty for knowledge. I have taught you so much in a short amount of time, and you need to process what you already know before we continue.”

  Tyrell sat on the edge of his chair. “I’ve processed everything you’ve taught me. It’s all I can think about. Please, teach me more.” He didn’t care that he was begging; he would do anything to quench his thirst.

  “Very well.” Allison picked up the book again. “Let’s talk about prophecies. Tell me what you know of them.”

  Tyrell scratched his head, thinking. “The only prophecy I know of is the Barrow Prophecy, but I assume that’s an old legend or mere folklore.”

  “It is an old legend, and nothing more than that, but it teaches us a lot about prophecies.” Allison flipped a couple pages in her book and scanned the text. Tyrell stared at her, waiting for her to continue. She promptly closed the book and set it back on the table, looking up to address Tyrell.

  “A prophecy is more than a prediction of the future, it is a binding contract between two or more parties. It isn’t random, but a spell placed by the most gifted mages.”

  “I don’t understand. How would someone know that they have this gift?”

  “Like I said, only the most gifted mages possess the gift, and there’s never been more than one at a time.” Allison saw the confusion on Tyrell’s face. “Let me give you an example. If I had the gift, I could use my magic and say that when the sun ceases to rise, you will bear a thousand heirs.” Allison smiled, while Tyrell sat staring blankly.

  “It needs to be cause and effect? When this happens, this separate and unrelated event will occur?” Tyrell had his doubts.

  “That’s exactly right. It’s a rare gift, but it holds immense power. There are no limits to what you can bind together.”

  “Then why aren’t there more prophecies? I’ve only ever heard of the one.”

  Allison switched her crossed legs. “That’s because, as with all magic, it comes with a cost. For a mage to cast a prophecy, they have to use all of their magic—in effect, lose their life. There is no way to survive the process.”

  Tyrell cackled. “Why would anyone choose to die for some dumb prophecy?”

  “They’re only made in the most desperate of circumstances, and not without a lot of prior thoug
ht.” Allison wasn’t smiling. She stared into Tyrell’s eyes as she spoke, the sternness in her words seeming to pierce his soul.

  Allison’s eyes shot to the door. Tyrell turned his gaze as well, unsure of what drew her attention. “There’s someone outside,” she said, pointing at the door. “Bring him in here.”

  Tyrell rose without question, moving to the large wooden door. As he opened the door, a man on the other side fell to the ground in surprise. Tyrell looked down as Tomir scrambled to his feet.

  “Tomir, what are you doing here?” Tyrell was furious. He knew better than to follow Tyrell around at night.

  “I . . .” Tomir struggled for words. “I saw you leave your room.” He shifted his gaze to the large room behind Tyrell and to Lady Velmar sitting at the table. Tomir’s eyes went wide with terror. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. You haven’t been yourself lately and I thought something was wrong.”

  Tyrell shook his head at his friend; he had a bad feeling of how this was going to end. “Get up,” he said as he reached out a hand to help his friend up. “Come inside.” He gestured for Tomir to enter the room.

  Hesitantly, Tomir walked inside, standing just inside the doorway. Tyrell shut the door behind him and returned to his seat.

  “Welcome, Tomir, I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.” Allison raised her hand for him to kiss. “I am Lady Velmar.”

  Tomir awkwardly stepped forward, then bent down and kissed her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, My Lady.” He immediately stepped back, closer to the door, on edge.

  “You were worried about your friend,” Allison said, looking from Tomir to Tyrell, a smile never leaving her face. “How noble of you.” She sat forward in her chair, a wide grin spreading across her face. “Do you know why your friend has been meeting me here?”

  Tomir shook his head quickly. “No, My Lady, I was simply looking out for him.” He stole a glance at Tyrell before turning back to Allison. “His sister asked me to. She was worried about him.”