by N. Saraven
Overall, Nar suffered silently.
Nobody liked the circumstances, albeit nobody dared to speak up. If somebody raised their voice, they vanished without a trace, or a fire started ‘miraculously’ in their home or shop. Thus after a while everybody learned to be silent and drowned their sorrows in work. Beyond a certain point, they simply did not want their homes and shops to become dust, or to have one of their family members taken ‘under protection’. The citizens had built a new life after the first Dragonwar, as good a life as it was. They had something to lose if they did not behave—many things, as it turned out, because for some reason Nar’s economy flourished …
On the other hand, as if the situation was not complicated enough, one day, a Tower appeared a few miles from the city.
Nobody knew exactly when and how the peculiar building had appeared. One hazy morning, not long before the second Dragonwar, without any sign, it just stood there. Since then, Nar’s inhabitants tried to find out the Tower’s purpose or intentions, with no luck. That was why everybody started to fear the building. Not many tried to visit the Tower, yet a huge number of stories were created about it. Somebody heard something, which they told to somebody else, and so on. In the end, ‘my brother’s daughter’s friend’s cousin’ was the hero of these tales.
The fear of the unknown slowly bore deeper terror in their hearts than knowing the truth.
The uninvited black Tower could be seen perfectly from the Ruler of Nar’s, Indrek’s, residence. And he hated it. He tried everything to find out something about that pesky neighbour of his. Especially since he was a great mage himself, yet he did not feel anything out of the ordinary when it appeared. That meant that the Tower was brought there by magic. With strong magic at that too, meaning that the masters of that building were also great mages. Who needed to be under close observation. Indrek thought the unknown mages were there to remove him as ruler.
As a result, Indrek paid a lot of anything to a lot of people to go by the Tower and find out something useful. These people then either came back or did not. And usually did not …
If somebody returned, they mumbled about a Black Mist that surrounded the Tower like a fence. It was not clear, however, because somehow these spies became useless. Something shocked them into madness.
After a few such incidents, nobody dared to go near the Tower and its Black Mist. Gathering had lessened as well in that area, although nothing went berserk or turned into monsters, like some claimed. The Mist did its job so perfectly that in the passing ten circles nobody could slip behind it. This, of course, annoyed Indrek more than anything. He would have rather preferred enemy armies marching around his city.
Only those who lived in the Tower knew the truth about it.
Probably nobody could ever guess that one of the Tower’s founders was Neila, a heroine in every species’ eyes, who called her Sunleader. Under her leadership, the hordes of demons, undead, then werewolf-armies were defeated. Only the kobolds spoke about her like every other halfling. They never let their gratitude above their pride; at least, that is what they showed to outsiders.
However, after the third, also the last, Great Victory, Neila had disappeared. The End happened chaotically, so even those who fought at that very day and place could not comprehend it fully. Some spoke about Gods, while others told stories of a never-seen-before magic. As a result, nobody knew what had happened to the Sunleader. Not even her closest friends.
Neila stood absently at the window of her room. She often mused upon her decision to stay hidden—what was the point? What should have been the point …? Especially after she chose to show herself to some. Those people were equally surprised and happy to see Neila in front of them. As she found out, however, they also got over their amazement a bit too quickly. The whole situation had ‘Neila’ written all over it, as they put it, yet she would not mind a little bit more surprise. She did come back from the Land of Death, as far as they knew …
The mage sighed.
Of course, there was an ‘on the other hand’. There always was. At the moment, she could not decide whether her reappearance was worth it or not. She had never, ever wanted to be such an ‘important person’, as she jeered at herself. She could not even guess how she had become this … ‘Sunleader’. The whole thing sounded so … cocky to her, as if she single-handedly defeated every enemy with her strong magic and uncanny tactics.
In her eyes, nothing was further from the truth, yet nobody seemed to remember the actual facts. She could have never done anything without her friends, albeit this little bit of information somehow became negligible. So after the first Dragonwar people started to call her this Sunleader-hero-something, which belief then meant that every time after if some ‘evil force’ appeared again, the attacked side expected her to come and rescue the day.
At the End, Neila truly had had enough of everything. So she decided on another route to take …
Sometimes she wondered how everything would have turned out if she would have stayed hidden. She feared that this Sunleader-heroine belief came to life too alongside her, which would mean more battles. Which she loathed.
On the other hand, there would be no Big Secret in Life, which would not be revealed in time …
And she had secrets, too many for comfort—supremely, if they got discovered. It had happened before, and Neila ended up hurting the people close to her.
For starters, she had chosen a dark elven named Halgor as a mate, a creature that should be under the never-ever-existed description. Neila would never forget those side looks when this came to light. So she just could not imagine what her friends would think about her past issues, like the creation of a dark mage caste, Varomor, which later became legendary. Literally …
Not even Neila knew who started those stories about ‘the dream of every dark mage’ caste, which the Tower of Varomor apparently meant. Yes, she and Halgor chose only the best of the best, whom they then invited in person. After they became convinced of the candidate’s suitability, of course, which always proved to be tiresome and long work. If the candidate accepted, they became bound to the Tower and ought to keep the existence of the caste in utter silence. The heads of the caste, the Masters, trusted their chosen ones, so Neila could never find out how those ‘myths’ about Varomor were created.
Despite these glitches, Neila loved living in Varomor, albeit she often mused on its rightfulness. Sometimes she managed to convince herself that she made a mistake, in other moments the contrary. Now, as she stood at the window, she just sighed and put the thought out of her head. She felt tired since she took her students on a little trip to the nearby hills yesterday. But rest had to wait because she had responsibilities. Neila would have had many things in order: go to class, speak over their work of some apprentices, and so on.
On the other hand, Neila decided, she could allow herself to give these responsibilities to another for the day. So she sent out a mental impulse to an apprentice, meaning that she would like to talk to him. She could have just entered his mind and ‘talked’, but nobody liked these methods. It was a voluntary rule as a show of respect to another’s personal life. They only broke this ‘guideline’ in the case of an emergency. It usually did not matter between close friends or mates though.
A silent knock broke Neila’s train of thoughts.
“Come in,” she said, so the summoned apprentice entered. He bowed to his Master, despite the fact she could not see him, then silently waited his turn. The door closed, obeying his will.
Neila still winced when a wraith was around her, even though she had known them for a long time now. She purposefully did not turn around just yet; she needed to dismiss the tingling of her skin as every little hair stood erect.
Wraiths had earned their human-given name perfectly. In their original form they looked like nothing more than white, foggy creatures. They never seemed solid; their ‘body’ billowed just like real clouds. Their gaze was the only colour in their appearance; it gleamed deeper blac
k than the soul of the Goddess of Darkness. They could also take a ‘solid form’, in which case they were not much different from a human. Only that their form always had snow-white hair, pale skin, and their eyes turned fully white with round pupils.
The apprentice appeared in a solid form this time, as was customary for wraiths when they did business with other species. He stood silently in the room until he was spoken to. His see-through gaze disturbed Neila, who could feel it perfectly between her shoulder blades. She always got a little skittish around wraiths.
She cleared her throat and began.
“I would like you, Eryn, to take over my class in the afternoon. You have to teach Intuit Magic, so it shouldn’t be a problem for you.” Neila turned to the wraith, who just slowly nodded, trying to hide his excitement.
He was a fairly new apprentice in Varomor, yet gained knowledge so fast like nobody else. Furthermore, he showed great potential in leading and organising others, so even the fully acknowledged mages in the Tower started to whisper that he would be the next in rank after the Masters soon. The only one then who could overlook Varomor in their absence. So far nobody else had earned this privilege, mostly because the Masters had never left the caste unattended.
“I thank you for your trust, Master,” hissed the student respectfully, so Neila motioned him to leave. But she did not even wait for him to go when she had already said a word and disappeared.
Neila opened her eyes again in the library, standing alone. She could assume that this condition would continue as so because Halgor had to teach Gained Magic at the moment, and that was always more complicated than the Intuit.
At the dawn of sorcery, the late Masters named the two distinguished sides of magic Intuit and Gained Magic. The former could be used by anybody who had patience and time to learn it. Save for the werewolves, of course, who could not associate themselves with magic by almost any mean.
The latter could be taught only by a qualified mage.
Learning Intuit Magic was always considered the easier one. The student had to sense the power around and within themselves. One needed to recognise and work out how they could construct the magic, which words or chants would help them in creating the spell. As a result, all spells became individual. Some rules and guidelines existed, but mostly everybody made up their own language to construct the same magic.
As opposed to this, Gained Magic needed very specific conditions to be learned and taught in, with strict rules. Because it usually meant shape-shifting, a qualified mage’s guide was utterly necessary.
Which meant that the elven simply could not leave his students alone.
Neila was perfectly satisfied with being alone, especially with the no-interruption part from Halgor. He had a tendency to show up and decide to join whatever the other was working on at the most inconvenient moment possible. His help could be very useful, yet Neila wanted nobody else in the room for what she was about to do.
The Master sensed unusual things, which bothered her more than anything else at the moment.
Mages were connected to the planet on which they lived, to their unique energy-flow that surrounded and interlaced them like a net. It was always there, and every worth-something mage ought to learn to sense its soft buzz—a little tingling on the skin that could be easily forgotten. Every planet had its unique sensation, but it did not take two breaths to get used to it, if one travelled between worlds.
These energy-rivers and the sensation they created was called the World’s Power.
The mages basically gained their power from it. When they wanted to create magic, they tapped into the World’s Power, slightly diverting the energies from their original ‘bank’ into their body. From this power one could form the actual spell, releasing the unused forces back.
The World’s Power also indicated every little change that disturbed its flows. Normally nothing happened, so the tingly feeling remained the same. But as soon as something tampered with the World’s Power, it immediately changed its emission that could be picked up by the mages. Just as if somebody twanged a stretched string, the vibration could be sensed at its other end.
Everything made a mark in the energy-flows, although the smallest things could be felt only by the greatest mages. They knew it from the changes in the air. Literally. On the other hand, some of the disturbances were amiss because they happened too far from any mage, so the change in the flows could even up with distance. Like a stone thrown in the river only made waves in a certain area.
The latest changes were so big, however, that they could most certainly be picked up by many. So Neila just could not sit tight and do nothing about it. She had to look into it. The feeling was completely different from any she had encountered before. This meant that it was created by an unknown force of some kind. And that thought gave Neila the chills.
The changes appeared around seven days ago, and they disappeared sometimes. As a result, Neila had no luck at all in finding their source. She talked to Halgor about it, but the elven just shrugged and told her that there was probably nothing to worry about. Maybe an unusual Rim appeared somewhere, through which a new species would arrive. Just like last time with the wraiths, he explained. These things happened, although nobody knew why the Gods let them. Anyhow, the three known planets—Caracen, Nimron, and Trian—were famous for them. So Halgor thought this situation could be the same. Neila saw the utter excitement in his eyes, which made her sigh inside.
Neila was not convinced. At all.
But she now knew that she could not rely on Halgor in any way, so she left him in peace. On the other hand, the elven probably would want to join her research when she really did not want him to …
Neila sighed, then put these thoughts out of her head. She would cross that bridge when she came to it. Until then, she could do her work, looking for the source of the unknown force. For some reason, whenever she thought about it, she became very upset. She felt deep down that this situation would not be a simple one.
Her heart started to pound, her stomach quivered.
She tried to calm herself and her thoughts as she made a fire in the hearth. It seemed so silly to feel this way. Then she sat down in a comfortable armchair and concentrated on clearing her mind. She could sense the annoying tingling that made her shiver. When she had had enough of the chilly buzzing, she scrambled up and started to pace. She made a list in her head of what she had tried so far, and with what results.
As it turned out, it was a short, sad list …
Neila started by trying to at least identify the strange feeling. She looked up then gathered most of the books in the Tower’s library that mentioned the World’s Power. Then she tried to find the source of the feeling, unsuccessfully. After days of useless research, she gave up for the moment.
Right now the only thing that made Neila feel a little better was the fact that probably nobody else would find the answers if they wanted to. Somehow it gave her a little comfort that if Indrek or somebody else from the Order wanted to look into this, they would have the same luck. Hopefully …
Neila halted and stared into the fire. She still felt the continuous buzz in the air, as if somebody kept twanging the string over and over again. In her desperation, she decided to ask the God of Good and Plantlife, Setal. It was the last resort. If she could, Neila would really avoid the talk with one of the Four Creators.
Neila moaned in dismay, then clenched her jaws and mentally summoned one of the serving creatures. They all were made by Neila and Halgor themselves just to have mindless servants. She asked the creature to guard the door. Nobody was allowed in unless she said so.
Neila walked to the door, put her hand on it, then closed her eyes and concentrated. She could clearly feel the servant’s presence. She smiled, but it disappeared quickly. It was a sad story, how that particular servant became what it was …
Neila would never forget what happened. Shortly after Varomor’s creation, Neila and Halgor started to teach students of their own, and one o
f those proved to be an unusually mean and naughty wraith. He ruined Neila’s classes and had no respect for her as a Master whatsoever. He gave insulting comments on everything regarding her. He did not like that Neila never tied back or braided her long brown hair, just let it loose. He also openly stared at her body, especially her upper body … Furthermore, he never missed an opportunity to point out her half-human heritage, like rounded ears and less-than-perfect face.
One day, however, the Master had had enough. And the result stood in front of her door now …
At least nobody else tried to behave like that since then … Neila thought bitterly. Then she let it go.
She started to the wall at the opposite side of the room, the only part of the library where nothing stood. Varomor’s black stones sparkled in the dancing light of the fire. Neila stood in front of the wall, and with one index finger she drew a rune on the stones while she concentrated on Setal. The drawn line started to shine in bright red. When the God’s sign shone like flames, Neila stepped back, waiting.
She had spoken with him only once since the third Dragonwar ten circles ago. In that one time, he told Neila through a dream how she could summon him. Just in case, he said. Although Neila never found a ‘case’ that would need him …
Suddenly, the wall started to make waves, as if it had turned into some kind of fluid. Slowly a shape emerged as the red rune faded. The blob then started to take a form; it looked like a grown man standing at the wall. The appearing figure closed his eyes, then they turned to brown when he opened them. Slowly, every little detail appeared and became coloured. His ‘skin’ whitened, his face seemed calm with beyond-perfect features.
Neila waited patiently while the God took form. She did not let it show, but she was amazed by him. As every mortal should be. Setal had something in his presence, his moves, that was completely foreign to Neila’s eyes.
The God of Plantlife and the others represented Beauty itself, interestingly in every species’ eyes. His gaze held incomprehensible knowledge for a mere mortal. His soothing voice and moves emitted calmness, but behind it lay a terrible force which could make a mortal obey without questioning. He was truly a mighty God; no mortal would question that.
