“Thank you for meeting with us, Your Majesty,” Cortin said, his voice smooth and his accent clear, adding an odd lilt to his voice. The winter had done wonders for helping Cortin, Kassandra, and Nora to adapt to modern languages, but there were still the occasional moments of confusion over wordings. Nora curtsied beside him as the young man bowed, and Phynis studied them thoughtfully. Both were older than she was, and there was an odd gravity to their manners, likely due to losing almost their entire world in what had felt like an afternoon to them.
Cortin was a handsome young man with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, while Nora had a slightly crooked nose and walnut-brown hair and eyes. Both had pale skin like those elves from regions far from Sifaren, and they wore white-trimmed blue robes, the uniforms of students of the ancient Everium Academy of Magic.
“You’re most welcome, both of you. Please, rise,” she indicated with a gentle gesture of her hand. As they did so, Phynis asked them calmly, “You requested this meeting for a reason, I’m certain, not simply for pleasantries. May I ask why?”
“We… have two things to speak with you about, and I believe the more important one should come first,” Cortin said, exchanging glances with Nora nervously before he cleared his throat. “The Academy is the first of them, milady. Kassandra was one of the teachers there, and the two of us were merely adept-ranked magi. However, after our winter with you, we’ve come to realize that an immense amount of knowledge was lost, and that in modern times, each of us would be considered a rank higher than we were.”
“That’s hardly an unexpected development,” Phynis replied with a sigh, shaking her head. “After reading through much of the first volume of Marin’s Codex and comparing it to our own primers, I can say that I’m humbled by the difference in basic magical knowledge. We’ve recreated much of it by trial and error, but we’re still far from having the same degree of training you had. What does this have to do with the Academy, though?”
“Kassandra wishes for us to continue our studies, while opening the Everium Academy once more. She would ask the two of us to train students in the old ways, while she works to bring us up to her own standards,” Nora interjected softly, seeming nervous as she added, “We would also restrict texts to students and a few others, simply for safety. With the war and everything else, we don’t want to lose library books. However, Kassandra pointed out that it should be your decision, as Sistina is the one who rescued us.”
“That is an interesting thought. Who would you take as students?” Phynis asked, her thoughts racing. On the face of it, she didn’t have an issue with the suggested approach, but the details could cause problems.
“We would hold to the standards of old Everium, allowing any student who has sufficient talent to enroll, regardless of race,” Cortin told her with growing confidence. “After they make an oath before Fate to not betray the school or Everium, that is.”
“I see. But would this also apply to the current incarnation of Everium? Sistina did crown me Queen of Everium,” Phynis inquired, the thought making her slightly anxious.
“That’s actually the second thing we wished to speak with you about,” Nora spoke up, smiling as she did so. “A generation before our own, the third son of the royal family married into the Constella family of our time. After some research with Captain Desa and Farris, we’ve come to the determination that your family line appears to be unbroken by the intervening millennia, which makes your station legitimate in our eyes. Thus, we are confident in swearing the loyalty of the Everium Academy to the reborn Kingdom of Everium.”
“I… I’m startled to hear that, if I’m being honest with you,” Phynis replied, stunned by the sudden revelation. It took her a few moments to regain control of her emotions, a part of her reeling at the thought of one of her ancestors having married into the royal family of Everium, but then she frowned and asked, “Wait… doesn’t that mean my mother and siblings are in the line of succession?”
“It would have been murky before you were crowned, but now we have precedent. In our time, if a member of the royal family was born into any other line of succession, they were removed from Everium’s succession,” Nora explained. “Before Everium was re-founded, you removed yourself from the rolls of Sifaren, and thus made yourself eligible. I imagine a number of noble scholars from back then would disagree with us, but we’ve decided to keep it as simple as we can. Six millennia passed, after all.”
“I suppose that’s a fair point. We’ll just have to figure things out as we come to them,” Phynis murmured, then straightened and nodded. “That being said, I’ll grant your requests, both of you. I only ask that my personal guard and the priesthood of Medaea currently present in the city be allowed access to your archives.”
“That’s entirely fair, Your Majesty. Thank you very much,” Cortin replied, bowing again. Nora curtseyed beside him, and Phynis smiled at them again.
“You are most welcome. Was there anything else?” the elven monarch asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable.
“No, Your Majesty,” they demurred, and Phynis dismissed them with a gentle wave.
She was just turning to look out the window when a sensation of intense shock rushed down her connection to Sistina, making her stiffen. Only when the shock didn’t turn to pain or fear did Phynis relax, letting out a soft breath as she murmured, “What did you find, Sistina?”
After reaching her cavern, Sistina had threaded her way through a narrow tunnel that would be easy for her to close if needed. The lesson with the ghouls had taught her caution when exploring areas she couldn’t examine without a body. The last thing she wanted was a horde of undead crawling through her caverns.
No, that was wrong, the last thing she wanted was for Phynis and the others to be hurt. That was part of why Sistina was down here. The potential of the aetheric condensers to add to her mana was a possibility she was seriously considering, especially with the hot spring she’d set up to heat the public baths of Beacon, but she hoped to find something more, and she didn’t have the designs for a condenser just yet. That was why she was truly down here, looking for something which would help Phynis and the others.
Reaching the end of the area she could see through her other senses, Sistina found a wall of rubble blocking her path. The rubble was ancient and loose, so she frowned at it for a moment. Part of her was tempted to try saving the mana, but in the end she decided that speed was more important than the mana it would take to clear her path.
Weaving the spell carefully, she slowly shoved the rubble to the side, fusing it into the wall. As it shifted, she saw a few ancient, yellowed bones among the dirt and stone, their appearance making her flinch. After a minute the rubble was out of her path, and she stepped into a broad chamber, anticipation warring with anxiety in her stomach as she raised her glowing light above her head.
Once upon a time, the area in front of her must have been an elaborate, manicured garden. All that was left of the garden were a few twisted branches, dead millennia before, and in the midst of the horribly scarred grounds were the scattered, ravaged bones of men and women. Most of them weren’t whole, as if they’d been torn apart by explosions, and Sistina’s stomach twisted as she looked at the palace itself.
She remembered a gleaming edifice of white marble, the spires a hundred feet tall. The remains of a spire now lay across the landscape before her, and most of the wings of the palace were caved in by unimaginable violence, one even seeming to have been melted by immense heat. Directly ahead of her, there was a hole in the side of the palace thirty feet across, more bones scattered in front of it. There were mostly feet and legs, Sistina noticed grimly, as if everything else of the deceased had been destroyed.
Taking a step forward, Sistina abruptly stopped as she felt waves of magic hit her, oppressive and dense, making it difficult for her to breathe for a moment. The dryad blinked in shock, wondering what kind of power could have survived for millennia and still possess such violence. One step at a time, she slowly trudg
ed toward the entrance, and the waves intensified as she moved closer.
The magic wasn’t just one type, she realized. It was a mixture of two clashing magics. One surged with light and heat, while the other was dark and possessed the emptiness of the void. Each was an inseparable part of the whole, and she shuddered, a faint suspicion blooming in her mind. Before her was darkness, but instinct told Sistina that if she wished to see the truth, she had to take another step. So she did, disregarding Phynis’ request about her safety… and when she did, shock overwhelmed her.
It was as though she’d stepped into the past, as if time had come to a stop. A dozen elves in the robes of magi were half-collapsed behind a golden throne, black lightning spiking through the air and into each of them, one of the women literally igniting in that frozen moment of time. Almost cut in two were dozens more elves in black armor, a seething fan of pure white flame blasting into them. Falling before a demon was an elven man in full armor wearing a golden crown set with a single immense emerald, its light guttering as though it were fading even as she watched. The huge demon whose spear was impaling the ancient king had been shot with dozens of arrows, and had just started collapsing. Dozens of others were around the room, and a pang of recognition and horror spiked through Sistina as she saw a trident near a gaping hole in the floor, the haft of the weapon destroyed by flame, its twisted mithral tines still shimmering with rainbow hues.
Everything about the diorama paled beside the center of the room, though. Rolling off the two figures was the immense magic that Sistina had felt, and from them came the wave of white flame and the black lightning. A man and woman stood there, just as when they’d slain one another so many years ago.
The goddess Demasa was a beautiful woman, her eyes like stars, her hair like woven moonlight, and her armor crafted of silver wood. In her hand she held a broadsword of light, which she’d brought down on her opponent’s head, her other hand casting out the fan of flames, leaving her open to the attack which had slain her.
Just as Demasa was a being of light, Kylrius was of darkness. He was also elven, and though his skin was almost as pale as Demasa’s, his eyes were black as pitch and his back-length hair midnight blue. His armor was beautiful, made of some midnight blue metal that radiated shadow around him, and he held a rapier made of black lightning that had pierced Demasa’s chest, having left himself open in the same moment.
Both deities were long dead, yet their power still warred with one another, time itself frozen around them as in the end, neither god had proven the victor in their battle. The rampaging strength of it made Sistina shudder internally, backing up slowly. This was more than she could handle, not without proper preparations, and even then… even if she prepared, if she didn’t expend an immense amount of magic quickly, there was little doubt in her mind as to what would happen to her. No mortal could absorb the power of a god unaided, and for all her power, Sistina was still mortal.
So Sistina turned away and left the ancient halls of Everium’s throne room, shivering as she felt the heartbeat of power echoing silently behind her.
“Almost there, Slaid. What do you want to do?” Umar asked quietly, sitting in front of the fire and looking at his commander expectantly.
“Hmm… well, the rumors have been right so far, at least according to our contacts, and that Kelvanis patrol out here supports our information too,” Slaid replied slowly, considering the matter as he stirred the pot of beans. They didn’t have an enormous amount of food, and the group they’d traveled with had been dozens of times larger than any he’d accompanied before. Looking up at Umar, Slaid raised an eyebrow. “That being said, there’s no reason to jump all the way in without thinking. Are you willing to go scout out Beacon and sound out the locals?”
“I thought you’d ask,” Umar replied with a slight smile, glancing at the horizon, where they could see the crimson glow of the city’s tower ahead. “To be honest, I’m a little worried, but even more curious about this place. I’ll head out in the morning, if you don’t mind?”
“Good. Be careful, Umar. I don’t want to lose you,” Slaid replied softly, smiling as he added, “Take a couple of men with you. I’ll ask for a volunteer from the former slaves, too.”
“Sounds like a plan, boss. I don’t want to die any more than you do,” Umar chuckled, grinning. “How’re the beans?”
Testing one, Slaid grimaced and shook his head, murmuring, “Depends on how hungry you are, I think. Me, I’m waiting a bit more.”
Umar and a couple of the others chuckled in agreement and settled in to wait, watching the crimson beacon on the horizon.
Chapter 10
“Captain? We have a few human men who want to speak to someone who’s in charge.” Linda Skylark, now a sergeant, poked her head into the office, and Desa looked up with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh? Why is that, and who are they?” the Captain asked, shuffling the papers she had to the side.
“It’s another of the small bands of people we’ve seen trickling in, though there’s something odd about this group. One of them is a slave, and the others are armed. The man in charge called himself Umar, and he strikes me as more of a bandit or such,” Skylark explained, shrugging slightly. “Wish I could tell you more, but I’m not sure of anything else. They’re a bit suspicious, but not quite as much as some of the others who’ve shown up.”
“I wish we had a better way of figuring out who to let in than looking for command sigils,” Desa muttered, frowning deeply. “Still, we let in the adventurers, and we need to help slaves. I really doubt Kelvanis would have many volunteers who’d be willing to be branded in order to infiltrate the city.”
“I agree with you there, Captain.” Skylark nodded quickly, before pausing and asking, “What do you want me to do?”
“Show them in, and I want you to stay here as well. No more than two of them inside, though,” Desa cautioned, frowning as she added, “We don’t want to give them a chance to attack if they aren’t friendly.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Skylark nodded and quickly slipped out of the room to retrieve Desa’s visitors.
While the younger woman was gone, Desa quickly put away her documents. None of them were very important, but it was best not to have anything that a spy might be able to use out and available. A minute later Skylark returned with two human men, and the Captain found herself studying them closely.
The man in front moved with a grace that spoke to her of familiarity with forests, as well as the stride of a trained warrior. He was stocky and well-muscled, if on the thin side, and his eyes and hair were both pale brown. Two empty sheaths hung from his belt, each for long, curved daggers, and his swarthy skin was weathered from a great deal of time outdoors. His worn leather armor and clothing spoke of a great deal of time as a woodsman. The odd combination of weaponry and outfit intrigued Desa.
At his side was a clumsier-looking man, tall and with a large nose. The man was even thinner and didn’t move like a warrior, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. The man had thin red hair and blue eyes, and also sunburned sometime recently, from the flakes of skin on his face.
“This is Captain Desa Iceheart,” Skylark told them, stepping to the side as she closed the door. The two men were studying Desa as she looked them over.
“May I ask what your position in Beacon is, Captain?” the first man asked calmly, his eyes intent.
“I command the city defenses, and answer only to Her Majesty,” Desa replied shortly, leaning back and steepling her hands in front of her. “Who are you?”
“I see. I’m Umar Sharptongue, and this is Adrian Chandler,” the man replied. “I’m here to ask a few questions. Mostly I’m wondering what your intentions toward Kelvanis are.”
Irritation rushed through Desa at his tone, but she suppressed it quickly, taking a breath before replying flatly. “Kelvanis won’t rest until we’re destroyed, so they’re an enemy that must be defeated utterly.”
“But what of the common folk of Kelvanis?
” Umar asked, almost challenging her. “Most of them haven’t had anything to do with attacking you, or the nations of Sifaren or Yisara. What about them? Are you going to slaughter them wholesale?”
“Of course not!” Desa spat, standing up in outrage. “Oh, they aren’t innocent, since they’ve allowed the rulers of Kelvanis to get away with enslaving thousands of others for decades, but we would never do something like that! It’s the rulers of Kelvanis that have to be eliminated, not every man, woman, and child.”
“Is that the opinion of your Queen as well?” Umar asked, his manner softening as he continued, holding up a hand to forestall her angry retort. “I’m asking for a good reason, Captain Iceheart. Please?”
“If anything, Her Majesty has been a moderating influence on the rest of us,” Desa replied, harshly stepping on her urge to speak more vehemently. “What are you doing here?”
“Most of Kelvanis considers me a bandit, Captain, but I’m glad to hear that your Queen feels similarly to you. To answer your question, I’m a representative of the much-diminished Crown Loyalists of Kelvanis,” Umar replied, smiling slightly as he explained further. “While we don’t have immense resources, there’s more of us than I think the Archon believes, and we would love nothing more than to take down the current leadership. Tell me, would your Queen be interested in an alliance?”
“What’s the holdup, Ed?” Rene asked, the portly, plain woman shaving a stick impatiently as they waited for the fire to get warmer. She was eminently forgettable, with brown hair and eyes, and just plain enough to not be memorable.
Edward was similar in a lot of ways, though his hair was almost black and he had a wiry body instead. He shook his head, murmuring, “Trouble. We’ll have to tell Kevin when we get back, but I spotted a large group a bit to the southwest. They’re mostly slaves, but I recognized a few of the abolitionists that were supposed to be dead. Including Slaid Damrung.”
Halls of Power (Ancient Dreams Book 3) Page 6
