Shifting his gaze from the dais, Dal glanced toward his peers standing beside him. The Masters displayed looks varying from awe to terror as they stared at Brock. Dal turned the other direction and Tennison leaned close to him.
“We must find a way to kill him and end the threat,” Tennison whispered.
Dalwin frowned. “Why kill him? He says we won’t be harmed if we just give him the chance to present his case,” Dal replied. “Allowing him to speak is hardly a threat.”
Tennison’s brow furrowed, the man frowning as he glared at Dalwin.
Movement drew Dal’s attention as the doors opened to reveal two men standing in the doorway. One was quite familiar, with a short build and a head of curly gray hair. The other was a student who stood a bit taller with a head of thick brown hair. Both men pushed their spectacles up and entered the room.
“What is the meaning of this charade?” Nindlerod demanded.
“This is none of your concern, Pherran,” Varius replied. “Just head back to the Foundry to tinker with your little inventions.”
Nindlerod snorted as he crossed the room. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” The Engineering Master neared Brock, looking up at him hovering above the room. “That’s a good trick, Mister Talenz. I’d love to learn how it works, but that’s for another time.”
“Hi, Brock,” Benny Hedgewick whispered, loud enough to hear throughout the quiet room.
Brock smiled. “Hi, Benny.” He nodded his head. “It looks like you found the pack I left for you.”
Benny grinned. “Yep. Thanks for that.”
Nindlerod spoke in a firm voice. “So, what’s this I hear about a trial? What are you trying to pull, Meryl?”
Varius appeared angry, but she kept her voice even as she spoke. “This young man and his friends are charged with treason. They used dark magic to create an evil army and sent that force out to destroy the eastern provinces.”
As soon as she said the words, an angry red aura appeared around Varius. Dal could feel the wrongness of her statement. Just hearing her say it made it feel as if he would retch from the distaste of the lie.
Nindlerod smiled. “Interesting. We can feel the lie, Meryl. You better be careful what you say.”
With a red face and a storm in her eyes, Varius glared at Nindlerod.
“I know something of your machinations, Meryl. I’m not the doddering old fool you think I am.” He pointed a finger at her before shifting it toward Vandermark. “I’m on to you, too, Walter.”
Vandermark’s brow furrowed again as he glanced toward Varius, then back to Nindlerod. “What are you going on about, Pherran?”
Nindlerod nodded. “About ten years ago, I found an interesting book in the Academy Knowledge Center. I approached you about the book with questions. Your response was that it was a fictional story, written by someone with a wild imagination. You kept the book, and I have never seen it since. Why would that be, Walter?”
Nindlerod turned toward the table where Dal and the other Masters stood watching. “That book was a journal from a former Academy Master, who died over a hundred years earlier. While much of it consisted of boring notes and memories of the man’s mundane existence, the final entry offered something more. Old and dying, the man felt compelled to write an interesting confession.”
Nindlerod cleared his throat and closed his eyes. “I have never forgiven myself for participating in the Cleansing. It pains me to this day to think upon the innocent men and women we killed, some of whom were my friends. If not for The Hand twisting the Ministry’s view on Chaos, driving them to fear it more than death itself, we may have found another path. Instead, we allowed our fear to become hatred and the hatred to become destruction just as horrible as the destruction they purported to avoid. I was a young man at the time and allowed the advice of my elders to guide me. Many decades have passed since the Cleansing, decades that cannot erase the guilt that clouds my soul. Chaos appears to have faded into history, and the books that recorded its amazing feats have been destroyed. It now only remains within the memory of an old man. Soon I will pass and those memories pass with me. May Issal have pity on me for what I have done. Perhaps in death I will find the forgiveness that I have not allowed myself in this life.”
Nindlerod looked toward the floor as a tear tracked down his cheek, leaving the room in stunned silence.
The Truth Dal felt in the words from Nindlerod was captivating, demanding him to believe the words.
Nindlerod lifted his head and turned toward Vandermark. “When I inquired about the disturbing journal entry, you stated that it was the words of a madman. When asked about Chaos, the Cleansing, and about this group called The Hand, you shrugged it off as nothing.” Nindlerod stepped closer to the dais, pointing toward Vandermark. “It’s time for the truth, Walter. What is Chaos? What was the Cleansing? Who is The Hand?”
Vandermark appeared angry. “I don’t have to answer your questions, Pherran. In fact, I want you thrown into a cell to await your trial. You abandoned the Academy and your obligations here without leave.” Turning toward the guards, Vandermark waved them over. “Arrest him and throw him into a cell.”
Dal couldn’t take it any longer. His glorious day had become a disaster. Worse, they were turning the sanctity of court into a travesty.
“Stop!” Dalwin shouted as he climbed over the table. The advancing guards stopped dead in their tracks. Pretencia pointed toward the dais. “Master Vandermark, you abuse your position by throwing a Master instructor into a cell. Yes, he must be held responsible for leaving the school in a lurch, but that does not make him a criminal.”
Pretencia felt a driving need to seek out the Truth. Vandermark’s avoidance of the questions posed could not be allowed.
“The Headmaster has been posed questions by a member of the faculty in an official courtroom.” Dal looked toward his peers and found nods of agreement among them. “I would also like to know how you respond to the questions, Vandermark. What is Chaos? What was the Cleansing about? Who is The Hand?”
Vandermark stared at the room, his eyes shifting from Dalwin, to Brock, to the Prelates, and back. After a moment, he answered. “Chaos is a destructive magic that was buried away centuries ago.”
Dalwin nodded, feeling the Truth of the words.
Vandermark swallowed hard. “The Cleansing was what the Ministry termed for the process of erasing Chaos.”
Again, the rightness of the words resonated within Dalwin. More Truth.
Vandermark looked nervous, hesitating before responding. “The Hand is a secret sect within the Ministry, formed to ensure a better future for the Ministry and the Empire.”
CHAPTER 41
Brock was shocked. He had expected lies from Vandermark, but each statement rang with Truth. The man truly believed that The Hand existed to make things better or, perhaps, that was the intent of the group.
Benny’s voice interrupted the brief silence. “Impressive, Headmaster Vandermark. You constructed your answers such that the truth appears innocent.” He stepped beside Nindlerod. “You’ve explained what Chaos is, but how did you bury it away? What did The Cleansing involve?”
Everyone stared at Vandermark as they waited for a response. The man appeared nervous, shooting a pleading glance toward Varius.
The woman snorted and shook her head. “Come on, Walter. Things get tough and you lock up. We’re still the ones in control here, regardless of what Brock thinks.” Her gaze scanned the room before it landed on Benny. “Mister Hedgewick was always too bright for his own good. How’s your father feeling, Benny?” she asked as Benny’s face clouded over. “Feeling guilty, Benny? Do you want to tell everyone what happened to him, what happened to your mother an
d best friend?”
When Brock noticed Benny withdrawing, he grew angry and turned toward Varius.
Brock shouted. “Leave him be, Varius. Benny’s not on trial and his personal life is not important here. However, he posed some very good questions. Do you care to respond?”
Varius smirked. “Fine. It won’t change anything anyway. I’ll still see you hanged.” She faced the Academy Masters. “When it became clear that Chaos was too powerful and destructive, the Ministry decided to bury it away forever and end the threat that it presented. Our wise ancestors took steps to eliminate anyone who knew how to wield Chaos. They then destroyed every book on the subject and erased it from the histories. The Ministry then enacted the Choosing ceremony, allowing us to weed out potential Chaos users shortly after birth by not giving them runes. They decided that having those individuals live as outcasts was a more humane alternative to killing them. As you can guess, these dangerous individuals were allowed to exist as Unchosen.” She nodded. “Yes, The Hand guided them to this decision and The Hand continued to ensure a Chaos-free existence for more than two hundred years. That is, until Brock and his friends chose to defile themselves and disobey their god in their own greedy pursuit of power.”
Brock was incredulous. “You continue to label the power of Chaos as evil, that using it is wrong. What proof do you have? Even if it were evil, how would I or anyone else know that it’s wrong to use it if there is no law against it, if we aren’t taught to avoid it?”
Varius appeared frustrated. “We couldn’t allow public knowledge of its existence because the lure of its power is too strong. If people like you knew of its existence, you would surely pursue it. Therefore, we kept any knowledge of it hidden away in hopes that it would never return.”
Hearing the door open behind him, Brock spun about to find Ashland helping a man into the room. At about fifty years of age, the man had long dark hair tied in a tail. His brown cloak swayed with each careful step as he entered the room. His footsteps came in spurts, separated by the tap of his cane on the stone floor. The whole room watched the strange procession in rapt silence. As the man neared the middle of the room, Brock smiled. Ashland’s eyes caught his and his smile grew larger.
I’m glad you’re safe, she sent. Is everything okay?
It is, now that you’re here, Brock replied.
How are you floating in the air like that anyway? She asked.
It’s the rune. I can manipulate Chaos itself right now, at least until the charge wears off.
Ashland escorted the man until he was beside Benny and Nindlerod, who both examined him with curious expressions. He gave them a nod before looking up at Brock.
“That’s a good trick, Brock,” the man noted. “It appears you’ve discovered something new.”
“Yes, Elias,” Brock replied. “I hoped it might work, but it required a leap of faith and only when I had no other option.”
Elias nodded as his brown eyes locked with Brock’s. “Sometimes we must trust our own intuition, for that’s how discoveries are made. However, risking your life to do so does take some courage.”
“What is this?” Varius demanded.
With a thought, Brock manipulated the Chaos supporting him to spin about, facing Varius.
“Master Varius, I would like you to meet Elias Firellus.” Brock gestured to the man below. “I believe that you will find his story quite interesting.”
Brock looked at Elias. “Elias, the floor is yours.”
The man nodded, and his head lowered until he was facing the floor. The room fell silent, the sense of anticipation palpable. Elias raised his head and began his tale.
“I grew up in Vingarri, the capital of Vinacci. I was always quick to learn and things came easy for me. My father held a high position on Queen Iglesias’s staff and he requested a tutor to instruct me, hoping I might someday grow to do something great. When the Ministry sent Master Chey as my instructor, my father never suspected that I might decide to follow in my mentor’s footsteps and join Issal’s flock. Within the first year that Master Chey was with us, he discovered my potential, although I was too young to harvest the abilities within. He and I grew close, and I learned all I could from him: reading, writing, history, math, theology, politics, philosophy, and more. Three years passed before I was first able to tap into Chaos. The moment I first touched the power, I knew where my future lay.”
“During my fifteenth summer, I told my father of my plan to join the Ministry. Within a month I departed with Master Chey and journeyed to Sol Polis.”
“At first, I was in awe of the Citadel and of the amazing presence that the Ministry had built there. It also became clear to me how much more I had to learn before I could become a Master. The path is meant to be a challenge, ensuring that only the best can become the embodiment of Issal to lead and instruct the people.”
“However, I was young and full of ambition. Thinking myself clever, I always looked for the fastest path to my goals. When I was approached by The Hand of Issal to join their sect, I leapt at the opportunity for they promised me a fast rise within the Ministry should I pledge myself to their cause.”
“I displayed more talent with Chaos than most of my peers. In less than three years, at the tender age of eighteen, I became the youngest to achieve the title of Master Arcanist. While not part of the ruling council, I found myself in a position of influence.”
“Meanwhile, the leaders of The Hand began pushing for expansion, expressing desire for the Ministry to extend their rule beyond the walls of Sol Polis. Rather than having Kings and Queens ruling the nations of Issalia, they believed that the Ministry, with Issal’s guidance, should govern the people. Others within the Ministry resisted and argued for a more peaceful existence. They believed that spreading the word of Issal, appealing to the spiritual side of mankind, was the path to take.”
“Four years passed under a constant, yet quiet, tension. Everything changed when The Hand recruited a man with extraordinary abilities. Somehow, this man was able to discover new Chaos runes, which led to new uses for the power. In addition, he discovered a means to apply a permanent effect, terming it Infusion.”
“The Hand saw the potential in the use of Infusion, but not the way this man had expected. They began by recruiting volunteers from within the Ministry. I was among the first.” Elias pulled his shirt up, revealing two runes, one that Brock knew well and another that was foreign to him. “With the use of Order, another Arcanist permanently infused me with Chaos-enhanced Power and Stamina. The result was amazing.”
“With my power augmented, I could do things with Chaos on a scale I’d never imagined. The added factor of my increased stamina all but erased the usual exhaustion one feels after using Chaos, enabling me to use it repeatedly. I felt like I was unstoppable.”
“Upon witnessing the effect that Infusion had on me and five fellow Arcanists, The Hand recruited every man they could to their cause. Within a short time, we built superior army. Unsatisfied and driven by the desire to rule the world, The Hand then hatched a plan to create an army that was unbeatable.”
“At just twenty-two summers, The Hand elevated me to the position of Grand Master Arcanist, leading the other Arcanists. We would be the key to fulfilling the promise of a future where the whole continent fell beneath the wisdom of the Ministry. All I had to do was follow the plan. I wasn’t ignorant to what they were doing or that it was wrong. Instead, I tried to convince myself that the end result justified the means.”
“When they began bringing in men, bound and gagged, rather than question it, I Infused those men as I had the other non-Arcanists. Over the next five weeks, men would appear before us against their will. We would infuse them and send them off to a secret location for training.”
“During this time, I found that the Chaos bound within me began to break loose, threatening to take control. If not for my ability to wield both Chaos and Order, I know it would have consumed me. I discussed this with the other Arcanists who had been infused, and they were enduring the same battle for control. Afraid of what it might mean, we agreed to keep the issue a secret, for we feared that the Ministry might destroy us if they knew of this threat.”
“When The Hand leaders revealed their plan to us and then sent us to join the army we had created, the three of us were relieved. We journeyed southward, traveling at night because the sun had begun to hurt our eyes, eyes that glowed red with the Chaos that lie within. A day and a half later, we found our destination in the heart of Kalimar. Hidden in a small valley among the unpopulated hills and forests, we found the Holy Army of Paladins training the force we had created.
He paused, staring off into space. “I’ll never forget the first time I saw them. Massive, powerful, and frightening, we knew that the armies of the kingdoms of Issalia would fold against our might.”
“We six Arcanists met with the Captain of the Holy Army and agreed on a plan. We would set off toward Sol Limar the subsequent evening, expecting to surprise King Tallinor and take the city with little trouble. During the meeting, a man entered the tent with a guard and a slight girl at his side. The man was the same man who had discovered Infusion and he had come to share a new discovery with our army.”
“He claimed to have perfected a rune that would create a portal from one place to another, enabling the travel of many miles instantly just by passing through a doorway.”
An Empire in Runes (The Runes of Issalia Book 3) Page 24
