by N. Saraven
“How can you sure, that nobody cheating?” Rita asked Veilon beside her, as she watched the new match.
“Every piece of the board is made from a special wood, what cannot be affected by magic, nor can be made magical,” replied the paragon as he hissed when two of Neila’s pieces got knocked out. He was the one who challenged the next victor, and he would rather not play against the soldier.
“How can be?” gasped Rita, but the kobold only shrugged.
“Nobody knows. Many tried to learn the secret of this tree, but none could.”
Rita watched as Neila stood up from her bench, swinging her head and murmuring something about dumb luck. It seemed that she was right, and Talek only won because he had the better hand in throwing the dice.
“Nothing personal, you know that, Neila, it’s just I was always the better player,” teased the soldier with a sly grin. The Master shrugged and said she would have her revenge.
“Yes, maybe you can defeat her, but I can show you how a real player wins.” Veilon sighed as he thudded on the bench.
“We’ll see.” Talek narrowed his eyes.
After an incredibly short and painful defeat, the soldier only snorted as he walked away, seemingly not minding the Ruler’s content smile.
“So, who’s next?” Veilon glanced around; he looked like a predator who had just eaten.
“I am,” sounded a voice somewhere from the back, which cut all conversation in an instant.
The paragon’s smile melted as the air froze around the table. The apprentices gave way for the next opponent, who sat down calmly. Everybody regarded Halgor, who caught his rival’s gaze and did not let go.
“Shall we?” the elven asked. He seemed calm. Too calm.
The dice were cast.
The crowd watched with their breath held back. The mirth and joy disappeared from the air, letting in fear and uncertainty. All became tense; nobody dared to whisper, or even sigh.
The players too seemed incredibly serious, as if they had just gone to war, and only one little mistake or wrong move was enough for death. Both of them thought through their next move carefully, planning and trying to find out what their opponent could roll next. The air almost shivered between them.
Everybody knew that even though they technically played a game, nothing fun or ease remained in it. It meant way more, although nobody could foretell what could happen in the end, when one of them won …
The first two rounds turned out to be long and incredibly close. The first one was won by Veilon, but then he lost the next because of a few bad rolls. The paragon growled as he reset the board, obviously trying hard not to let the other one’s wry smile get to him. The next round would decide everything. They both must have promised not to lose, no matter what.
The tenseness became almost touchable in the air. Both players knocked out several of the other’s pieces. Yet every time one seemed to be in the lead, something happened and the other would catch up again. Finally, it came down to the last round—only the dice decided. And luck. Everybody watched with held-back breaths.
Then chaos struck.
Suddenly a huge body crashed into the table from the side, tipping it over. The board flew off it as the mages jumped to their feet, hardly avoiding the table itself. The crowd scattered, then eyed the one who caused the accident. Just as the rivals.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING, ENARGIT?!” shouted Veilon furiously when he saw the Leader slowly getting up.
“Oh, my. I am terribly sorry, boys. Just had a little accident, you know, bad landing and all.” He glanced at the others innocently. “I hope I was not interrupting anything?” he added, looking around as if he were not aware what was happening in the garden all afternoon. His acting seemed very convincing, although nobody bought it.
The two men looked as if they could burst in any moment, so before any of them had a chance to say anything, Neila cut in.
“We all had our fun, but sadly, the day is ending. I ask everybody to get ready for dinner, then continue with their jobs. We need to get to work again.” Neila shooed everybody away, although she eyed the rivals firmly for a few moments. The apprentices, mages, and dragons scattered, chatting, although some gave a disappointed rumble.
Halgor and Veilon stared at each other as if they could jump on the other in any moment, yet they satisfied their honour with a few insults.
“Thank you.” The Master smiled sadly at Enargit as they saw the mages part fairly peacefully. Suddenly the air felt much lighter.
“What are friends for …?” replied the dragon unusually warmly, which only made the mage sigh. But she could not say another word because Eryn caught their attention, trotting towards them.
“Master!” he panted, when he got close enough. “Carus has accepted the meeting. Elnor and he will wait for our emissary at a specific meeting point. They await us at sunrise tomorrow.”
After his Master did not want anything else from him, he left to make preparations.
“This means that they will arrive very early here,” muttered Neila. “Although I cannot stop thinking about with what reason the second-in-command scÿta could get away …?”
“You can ask him on the morrow,” growled Enargit. “Whom do you want to send?”
“There is not much of a choice in that regard. The Mist only obeys me or Halgor, so the elven will go.”
“Are you certain that this is a good idea? Halgor has been … less of a leader nowadays,” argued the dragon, which made his friend’s eyes flare up. Facts stayed facts, no matter how much one would have wanted to change them. Even if Halgor became ‘dethroned’ in Varomor, the Mist still accepted his word. Only his and Neila’s.
“Good idea or not, it will be so. But I’m starting to get hungry, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get something to eat,” she said grimly, then walked away, leaving the dragon, who just swayed his head.
All things considered, he could hardly wait for tomorrow, when he would have the chance to actually talk to Carus.
40. Elnor and Carus
Halgor stood from one foot to the other, pouting under a tree on Nimron. It was raining heavily, which made his mood terrible on its own, but with the cold it became just insulting. He shivered, which he found annoying, since he was used to be able to bear cold with ease. Yet after a few seasons in that strange land on Caracen, he almost forgot how cold cold could be. In that rainforest, or whatever it was, only warm, or even warmer existed, compared to the place from where they came. As a result, the elven now tried to warm himself up as he waited. He hated to be defeated by nature like that.
“I hope they get here soon, otherwise I will skin them alive and make coats from their skins,” he growled as he glanced around at the unfriendly trees. He started to pace, holding his cloak tight around his body. As his eyes looked for anything unusual, he also pricked his ears to hear something other than the rain tapping on his hood.
Halgor could not hide the thought from himself how bad an idea it was that he had to come. Even though Neila had her reasons, so he did not argue too much. It was true that the Mist only obeyed him and her, so if they wanted their little visitors to actually get into Varomor, one of them ought to go out. No other way existed to make the Mist part from inside. Furthermore, it had to sense the Masters’ energy on the visitors, which meant that they actually had to spend a little time with them before they tried to make the Mist let them in.
Overall, one of them had to go out and meet the guests.
Looking back now, the elven found these criteria ridiculous, but he could do nothing about them at the moment. So he tried not to pout any more about the facts or to think about how cold he was. Even though the latter started to really annoy him, not to mention made him uneasy.
If something was about to happen, normally he would be able to defend himself easily since he was one of the strongest mages in the world. It would take a lot of effort from Indrek if he wanted to catch the dark elven. However, the cold made him miserable, and his body stif
f, which might prove to be a disadvantage in a fight. Especially if he faced scÿta and other mages from the Order.
Halgor paced impatiently, growing more and more angry and nervous. He would rather not use magic to keep himself warm because the spell would radiate too much energy. Hiding it would take even more power, which he did not want to give in the current circumstance. So he ought to bear the cold, even if it did make him irked.
Furthermore, he had a hunch that this meeting would actually mean a lot in the long run. He even hoped that it could somehow prevent Neila from doing something even crazier.
The elven truly found himself between a rock and a hard place. At one point, he understood Neila—he too wanted to rip out Indrek’s heart for what he had done to Cameron and to them. But he also saw the other side of things. Namely, if the bright dragon wanted to get back above anything else, he probably could have. Furthermore, tyrant or no tyrant, the Empire actually was built on solid grounds, which made the inhabitants get used to things.
The dark mage shivered even more as he became even colder. He could not really do anything but stay in one place, which was the worst thing in that situation.
“I will skin them alive and make coats from them,” rumbled Halgor with chattering teeth. He still stood completely alone in the rain. He was sure that he waited in the right place. Eryn gave him a very thorough description where he and his cousin met sometimes. So his precious used-to-be companions either made him wait on purpose, or something came up.
If it was the former, the elven seriously considered different methods of punishments for them when they arrived. If the latter … He eyed the thickets even more firmly as he listened intently, recalling some spells to get away quickly.
“There is no need for such hostility, Halgor.” Carus stepped from behind a tree, which made the elven swirl on his heels. Even though he did not show it, he was caught completely by surprise, which baffled and made him very nervous at the same time. He twisted his mouth as he regarded the other inquiringly.
The wraith looked around as if he were used to measuring the terrain thoroughly, looking for signs of betrayal. His walk and motions showed that he owned the place, so he could act with a cool head if needed. He seemed indestructible, not just because of the many blades hanging from his wide belt.
Halgor reminded himself to act further with caution. The fact that the wraith could approach him without him sensing anything meant grave danger. The elven knew a few things about scÿta, yet he had never actually met any. Facing their abilities somehow put everything in a different lighting. Overall, he tried to hide how nervous, cold, and miserable he felt.
Elnor followed Carus and also looked around; however, he seemed rather bored than anything else.
“I’d never thought that we were so important that you had to come and greet us.” The kobold broke the momentary silence, which made the elven raise a brow.
He had not met with the young paragon since the Dragonwars, so now he was astonished to see that that mischievous and hasty boy existed no longer. The man who now looked at him was somebody who had complete control and knowledge of himself. He became a person against whom the mage needed to proceed with caution.
However, at the moment he felt too anguished to keep his cool.
“What took you so long? I don’t like to be treated this way,” snapped the mage with smouldering eyes. But the friends just looked at him as if they were expecting something like this from him and considered it a nuisance. The elven’s anger rose, bubbling up like pressure in a heated kettle. He would not take much more of this condescending situation.
“We don’t have to explain ourselves to you,” muttered Carus quietly, eyeing the other with such a gaze as if he were demanding respect even from him. As if he wanted that just because of whom he was.
Halgor could not take any more of this. He launched forwards as anger completely took over his mind. He usually never let his feelings gain control like this; however, he had lived through too much in such little time.
Neila had cut him out from her life completely; she was not even talking to him anymore. He had lost his Master position in Varomor, although everybody still wanted to remain on his good side because of his power. But only because of that; in every other way, they kept their distance.
As a result, he had only as much control of himself as a kinwa could stay silent. He had had more than enough of this, especially since he had to bear everything without a word. If he could, he would show everybody precisely how powerful he could be, not to mention firm-handed. He would do anything to get back what he had lost.
On the other hand, he wanted to defy Lexénia even more. The Goddess probably planned for some resistance on his part. Perhaps she only waited for him to slip, or cross the line, or to say something bad at the wrong time. It took a lot of effort from Halgor’s part to actually prevent any of this from happening. He always was hot-headed in a way, wanting everything on which he laid his eyes. Regardless, he always used sophisticated methods, albeit in truth he played very big every time.
In this case, however, he had to carefully plan his every move, word, or thought. He had no illusion about Lexénia or of her ability to know if he made any mistakes. He would bet almost anything that the Goddess actually could hardly wait for him to do so, so she could punish him as she pleased.
Yet Halgor wanted nothing of a sort, so he always walked on the line, but never crossed it. He accepted the situation with a head held high instead of rampaging and behaved exceptionally good with everybody, dismissing the cold, hostile looks he got. Even though the Goddess took everything from him.
He tolerated everything just to prevent or interfere with Neila losing control.
Although he could not accept any of these behaviours towards him outside Varomor. He was the second greatest mage in the world, which he could not let anybody forget. Especially not a wraith, who should be thanking him for saving his life beforehand.
So the elven grabbed the scÿta by the collar and pinned him to a tree.
The wraith obviously was surprised by the attack, but could do nothing about it. He had a great disadvantage, of which only a few knew, although sadly for him, Halgor was one of them. Namely, that he was enormously sensitive to the energies around him, so he could hardly follow if they suddenly changed. The stronger the force that surrounded him, the more stunned he became.
On the other hand, this was also one of the reasons he could become the second-in-command. Every single mage, or other creature, had its unique energy, a signature, which surrounded them. If one could recognise and read them, they would be able to tell where that person was, even if they tried to hide. Furthermore, these energies could give a lot of information about the owner’s strength.
Carus’ sensitivity became a very big advantage and a disadvantage at the same time. He mostly had nothing to fear because only a few had that much power that could actually disable the wraith. Even fewer existed who could change this aura of theirs, deceiving the one who tried to measure them by their energies.
However, Halgor was one of the few who could do both. Because he wanted to elude the possibility of reading his powers, he always contained his true forces, hiding them. As a result, Carus made the terrible mistake of misjudging him, underestimating what he was up against. As a scÿta, a very strong one at that too, he had the idea that he had lived enough to manage anything with which he might cross paths. He obviously had no idea how much stronger the dark mage became after their last encounter. It turned out to be a mistake which he surely regretted later …
Carus tried to take control of his mind and body, which literally trembled under the huge amount of power. Halgor’s free-flowing forces now swirled around him, swallowing him whole, as it seemed. The wraith tried to wiggle free, but the elven also had a very firm grasp on his collar, which he could not force off. He hardly comprehended what he was doing or how he tried to break free. All of his senses seemed to have gone wild, giving him only morsels of reliab
le information about the happenings.
“I WILL NOT let anybody speak to me like that! Especially not a low-levelled wraith, who should be lucky that I even talk to him! One more disrespectful word from you, and I will erase you from existence!” hissed the dark mage with flaring eyes. “Do I make myself clear?” Halgor’s piercing gaze caught the wraith’s white eyes and did not let them go.
The scÿta obviously felt afraid, very much so. He still tried to break free, but could not.
Meanwhile, Elnor stood a few steps away from the pair, completely calm, watching what would come out of this whole situation. His expression still showed more boredom than anything else. Although probably if things got out of hand, he would interfere. But until then, he let the elven make his point.
Everybody who fought at Halgor’s side during the Wars knew that he loved to be feared, to be acknowledged as a strong opponent. He demanded respect and behaved condescendingly towards everybody else, yet he had a very solid reason to do so—he was an exceptionally good mage. With ego problems, yes, but who did not …
So he just needed to be treated as he liked and Carus could go free.
The kobold had to admit to himself that the wraith really needed a lesson like this. He had become very, very full of himself lately. He had turned into a powerful scÿta, but he seemed to forget in the process that others could still surprise him. Even Elnor himself could do so, which left Halgor …
“Do you understand?!” demanded the elven again, squeezing the other even more to the tree.
“Y … yes … sorry …” whispered Carus hoarsely.
Halgor released him, which made the scÿta fall to the ground, panting.
“Good. Learn your place!” the dark mage barked at him with pure anger, then he turned away. “Let’s go!”
