by Brian Keller
What he saw nearly defied description; the first thing he noticed was Jarell’s pale corpse lying on the ground, partially obscured by a pile of rubble. His eyes were wide and staring, and his face was drained of all color. As he stepped around to get a clearer view he was stunned to see the bodies of Chesim, Eva and Remali, also pale, as if they’d been drained and then frozen. It was only after this sight registered in his brain that he saw the rest of the scene. Standing, or rather slightly floating, above them was a translucent figure of a man. The man was looking straight at him. This had to be a ghost. He appeared to be dressed in an ornate, flowing robe and he wasn’t corporeal, but neither could Kinsman see through him. Then the creature spoke, it’s voice like tearing cloth, “Almost done. Perhaps the power I feel coming from you will be enough.” Kinsman was shocked to hear any kind of sound come from this creature, nevermind intelligible speech. His only response was, “You killed them.” The ghost laughed. It sounded like pebbles being kicked across pavement, “Yes. Them and dozens more. Hundreds even. I’ll kill thousands more if that’s what it takes to free me of this place, but now I’m am very close to being free.” Kinsman circled to have the sun at his back, “Free? Free to pass on?” The spirit laughed again, “Pass on? I have no interest in passing on. No, I’ll be free of the tether that ties me to this place. And not like before, I am the only remaining true wizard. Today, there are no others who can bind me.” He made a wide sweeping gesture to indicate their surroundings, “This destruction was their doing, not mine. It’s been over a hundred years, but this one”, it indicated Jarell, “agreed to bring me souls in exchange for my insights. But today I learn of his plans to leave the city. That would deprive me of the souls I need. Of the power I have been denied for generations. I cannot allow this… not when I am so close. But now you… you may be enough. After all these years.”
Kinsman had certainly felt anger before, but nothing compared to the rage that welled up within him now. He thought of Chesim and his family, “They never hurt anyone. They never did anything but try to live and love each other as best they could. They had something I couldn’t have, and now that’s been taken from them too.” Part of the rage he felt was because he was sure they’d only been involved because of him. Instead he said, “You’re the one that history calls “The Mad Wizard”, aren’t you? The stories say you left entire villages of corpses behind you.” The spirit chuckled, the sound like a breeze blowing through dried leaves, “I suppose I am. But Life is power. You’ll learn this now, but only briefly.”
Kinsman felt a chill, and a gentle tug but the spirit was still twelve steps away. In a moment the sensation passed, then the Mad Wizard spoke, “We’ve met before? No, that would be impossible. It was someone else very much like you… I remember now, it did not go well for him. He lives in me now.” The Mad Wizard chuckled evilly to himself. “Even your eyes are the same.” The Mad Wizard peered deeply into Cooper, perhaps more deeply than anyone ever had. “Ahh. It was your Great-Grandfather! He was known as The Kinsman.” The spirit paused to consider, “Well, the original Kinsman, I suppose.” The spirit began to float and circle, scrutinizing Cooper as if he were a cook at the market inspecting a fatted calf. He spoke again in his rasping, shallow voice, “You realize that you cannot stop me don’t you? Your Great-Grandfather knew that as well. Though destroying me was within his reach, he was unwilling to take the risk. Instead, he tried other methods and failed. You might even say that it was due to his contribution I was able to withstand the combined efforts of the University’s mages. I doubt I could’ve survived their onslaught if I hadn’t met your ancestor earlier.” Cooper watched as the spirit seemed to focus, then he immediately felt the Wizard “reach out” for him. He felt a chill all around him and through him. Cooper reached out to find a source of power strong enough to push the spirit away and felt that the entire space around him had been drained. As if everything within his reach had already been used up. There was nothing living nearby. The Mad Wizard felt his pain as well as his efforts to find a source of power and laughed out loud, “Yes. The only remaining sources of power here are the sun and the wind… and you.” Cooper immediately felt the chill intensify. Not a chill like one would feel if a winter gust finds its way under your clothes; this chill was accompanied by an ache and fatigue that Cooper couldn’t identify. He could sense the connection the wizard had created between them and he could feel the spirit’s presence in his mind. Cooper reached with his own mind and began drawing energy through that connection, converting that energy to heat. He could feel it working but though the ache diminished, the chill never evaporated. He could feel the wizard pause and heard his voice in his head, “You would risk drawing energy from me?!? You would risk drawing my hunger into yourself?” Cooper drew more energy, he could feel the wizard resisting, almost like a mental tug-of-war as the wizard increased his efforts. He could feel the cold again. His vision started to dim around the edges. He knew that once he was enclosed in darkness, it would all be over. That darkness reminded Cooper of how easy it had been to sense the presence of others that had concealed themselves in the shadows. He simply reached out with a mental flick and sifted through the spaces nearby that were bereft of sunlight. Shadows were a form of Nature energy, after all. They were more than just the absence of light. Cooper drew from the surrounding shadows and felt the cold recede again. The Mad Wizard’s presence in his mind seemed to falter. “What’s this? I can feel that you’re drawing power. But from where?!” As he felt the balance of power shift, the Kinsman smiled and as he pushed outward he could sense the core of the spirit’s power; he could feel the effort the spirit was exerting to keep him from it. It felt like a tiny sphere of ice surrounded by a dense, chilling mist. Cooper reached out to grasp it. He stripped away the mist and tried to convert as much of it to heat as he could, but the chill of it still permeated his mind. He could feel the cold creep down his spine. The Mad Wizard laughed, “You realize by pulling my energy into yourself, you’re bringing the rest of me in as well, don’t you?” Kinsman smiled, what the spirit had said wasn’t entirely true and the connection between the two of them was too intimate to allow either of them to lie. The wizard frowned as he realized this fact. Kinsman could feel the spirit’s resistance, but he was unrelenting in his efforts to rip away the spirit’s life force. Manipulating this energy was as simple as an experienced potter working his clay. He pressed on despite the biting, aching chill. The power began coming much faster than he could convert it to heat. The Mad Wizard could feel his grip slipping away and knew he was weakening past the point of resistance. He cried out in desperation, “Your grandfather knew the risks of this and feared what it could do to him. He feared destroying me this way, and he feared what he might become.” Cooper could sense the truth of this but his only reply was, “My Great-grandfather must have been a better man than me. Give him my regards.” And with that Kinsman shattered the Mad Wizard’s essence. He felt the sudden, overwhelming burst of cold and energy flood into him but before he slipped into unconsciousness he felt the wizard spend the last of his energy in some way that he couldn’t identify. And then everything went dark.
~~~~~
Iona was reading through one of the tomes that Yoren had requested for her from the University. The old scholar had suggested that Iona was bright enough to conduct some research on her own. How better to understand her Talent, and document her findings for the benefit of the University library? She stopped midway through turning a page. She felt a surge wash over her. It was like ocean waves thundering against rocks. There was nothing subtle about it, the boy had accessed his Gift. Everything else she’d felt before paled in comparison to this. The fact that it was happening nearby didn’t even play into it. She felt like she almost needed to mentally avert her gaze, like staring at the sun. There was no mistaking that it was the boy, but there was something else. There was another participant, and that one was Gifted too. In the passage of two or three minutes she felt the powers surge and escalate
to establish dominance. Suddenly there was a tremendous expenditure of power, both heat and cold, but also something else… something unique. The sheer volume of power seemed more than she could’ve thought possible. It could be magic of this magnitude that the old scholar had spoken of. This might be the kind of power that had created the Ruins. She sensed the magical signature in the direction of the Waterfront and the Wharf City, but closer. There could be no mistaking the location. It was in the Ruins. The sheer power of it washed out her vision for several minutes. She knew she needed to alert Yoren, but by the time she felt she could trust her eyes the event had been finished for a few minutes. She could still feel the residual aura as Yoren answered his door with a questioning expression. She answered his unasked question, “In the Ruins, sir. It will be unmistakable. With power of this magnitude, the very stones on the spot will be imprinted.”
~~~~~
When Cooper opened his eyes, he was face down on the ground. His head was swimming and felt as if an entire caravan had chosen his brain for a roadway. As he rolled onto his back, he wondered how much time had passed; the sun had shifted noticeably from where it had been the last time he’d looked. He remembered how he’d come to be here and abruptly rolled onto his side and raised himself to a half seated position. He quickly scanned his surroundings. His eyes fell onto the bodies of Chesim, Eva and Remali. He knew there was nothing he could do for them. He wondered whether he needed to claim some form of evidence to confirm Jarell’s death. By the time he’d managed to stand, he’d decided that the Master’s Council would just have to accept his word. Still, he stood above him and sank a blade into the traitor’s heart. The blade came out bloodless. If the Masters needed further confirmation, they could just send someone else to verify it. He turned to face south and took a few faltering steps and his legs failed him, dropping him clumsily onto his backside. He gathered his strength as he considered what Jarell’s long range plans might have been and whether he’d hidden the wealth of the Guild somewhere within the Ruins. On the one hand, it would make sense but on the other, it seemed an unnecessary risk to enter the Ruins every time he wanted to make a deposit or withdrawal.
A few more minutes passed and Cooper raised himself up from the dust again. He regained his feet and took a few halting steps southward. He stumbled from boulder to boulder, like a toddler learning to walk by stepping from one piece of furniture to the next. Minutes passed and his strength gradually returned. He was walking unassisted by the time he reached the road that divided the Ruins from the Waterfront. Faril was waiting for him at the edge of the Ruins. As soon as Cooper emerged, Faril stood. He had a faint glimmer of hope in his red-rimmed eyes. Cooper’s eyes were filled with a combination of victory, regret and loss. As he saw Faril, Cooper lowered his eyes and shook his head. When he looked back up, Faril’s eyes held only loss. It was a depth of loss that Cooper couldn’t fathom, even having lost his own parents years ago.
It took the better part of an hour for them to retrieve the bodies of Chesim, Eva, and Remali; but they deserved better than to simply be left lying in the dust of the Ruins. Whether Faril was grateful for his assistance or not, they didn’t exchange a single word between them. Cooper thought that was for the best; especially considering the fact that he felt more than a little responsible for their deaths.
Epilogue:
Cooper crossed the Whitefoam and saw smoke to the southwest. As he walked through the Trade Quarter he came to realize that the smoke was coming from the Guild or very near it. He was still a few blocks away when he noticed Rukle waving at him. Cooper walked over to him and Rukle slipped into a gap between two buildings. When Cooper had joined him, Rukle spoke quickly but in hushed tones, “The Guild has been raided! Two hours ago, soldiers burst into the storefront, battered through the back wall and stormed through the halls. It looks like they captured everyone they could and killed any that resisted. I don’t know how many might have escaped but they’ve loaded more than a dozen carts and cages during the last hour.” He paused for a breath but then continued before Cooper could ask any questions, “I was out last night with Master Brais and Evan and we stopped for breakfast in the Waterfront district, so we could sit and observe movement patterns. When we got back here, they both entered to see if there were any inside that could be rescued. They left me out here to warn away anyone else who was returning.”
After learning the degree to which the Guild had been betrayed, Cooper was suspicious of everyone, even Rukle, “How do you know when the soldiers struck if you were out in the city?” Rukle looked sidelong at Cooper, realizing he was being questioned, “Because Dailen escaped with several bonded ingots and an armload of smithing tools. He told me. He said he would be seeking work with one of the local swordsmiths. The Guild is part owner of that man’s smithy anyway, so Dailen will kinda be keeping an eye on that investment while we learn what it’ll take to rebuild.” Cooper’s eyebrows pulled tight, “Rebuild? I’m not sure how to go about trying to rebuild. Do we even know if there’s a “we” that is capable of managing that? Do you know if any Masters survived? Have you recognized anyone loaded onto the carts? Living or dead?”
Rukle let his head sag, “I recognized several. Some thrown onto the carts, some pushed into cages. Most of the dead were older than us, so I figure them to be Adepts and Masters. The carts for the dead were loaded down so heavily the axles were creaking. It was so hard to see for sure, and I dared not get too close, but I might’ve seen Mister Skran’s body loaded onto a cart. It was either him or someone with a build like his, wearing armor like his. You know there’s several that wear that kind of armor, it’s just that he wears his all the time.” Rukle stopped to swallow. He didn’t want to say more, but he knew Cooper would ask him if he didn’t, “Most that were taken away in cages were kids, our age or younger. I can’t be sure, but I thought that maybe Aden was loaded on a prison cart. There’s a few boys our age who look a bit like him so it coulda been one of them. Other than that, I haven’t recognized anyone that I know very well, except for Dailen.”
Cooper suddenly felt fully drained. After the last several days, everything he’d come to understand had not only been challenged, it had been torn apart and the fragments left scattered in the wind. He needed more answers, and at this moment he needed someone to blame. He turned to Rukle, “I’m going in.” Rukle shook his head, “Nope. No way you’re getting in there. Look.” He pointed in the direction of the Guild, “There’s three soldiers for every citizen on every block surrounding the shop! Even if I thought you might slip past them, I’m supposed to stop anyone from trying to go in.” Cooper was working his fingers as he turned to face Rukle, “You don’t mean to say that you’re going to try to stop me…?” Rukle started to adopt a defiant stance but abruptly deflated, “I suppose that would be pointless, wouldn’t it?” He let out a long breath before he continued speaking, “When I saw you walking up, I had real hopes for getting the Guild established again. But if you’re settled on going in and getting killed, we both know that I can’t stop you.” Cooper shook his head, “I’m going in. Where will I find you when I come back out?” Rukle grunted, “If you come back out, you mean… I know a few families that live in the Wharf City that’ll take me in. Look for me there.” Cooper nodded, “Tell Mardon, the First Merchant, who you’re staying with. Tell him I’ll be coming to find you. It might be a month, maybe two, or even longer. Once I get some answers, there’ll be a few things that need to be done.” Rukle looked confused, “Where are you going?” Cooper gave him a long look before answering, “I know where there’s at least one Master Assassin still alive. Maybe he’ll know what to do now.” Rukle shrugged, “Well, I’ll stay around here for a couple more hours. It’s easy enough to blend in since all the activity has drawn quite a crowd. But once the gathering starts to dwindle, or if the soldiers start making them all disperse, I’m leaving.” Cooper nodded, “I know other ways in. Wish me luck.” Rukle held out a hand, “Luck.” The boys grasped hands before Cooper left th
e tight alley and walked northwest, away from the Guild.
Other than the Scribes storefront and the hatch above the Arena, the only other entrance to the Guild that he knew of was the tunnel Rayna had shown him the day he had fought Jarell. That seemed years ago now. He had just used it to leave the Guild, so he felt fairly certain that the soldiers were still unaware of it. He took a few moments to observe the streets before he entered the Potter’s shop again. Several minutes later, Cooper was stalking through the smoke-filled halls of the Guild, listening for the clomping sound of booted feet. There were a few stops he felt compelled to make, but as much as he wanted to look into Master Worthan’s classroom he knew that would be where the concentration of soldiers would be greatest. He wondered if Guildmaster Worthan had survived. The old man was certainly more than he seemed, but he likely would’ve been the first Master the soldiers would’ve encountered. Cooper admitted to himself that the greatest likelihood was that the old man was dead.
He crept through the halls leading to his sleeping bay. He felt the way the air flowed through the hall and noted how the smoke lay heavily in the air. His movements disrupted the currents and the smoke swirled as he passed but other than that there was no sign where he had been. When he reached his room, there was a single soldier searching the space. He was upending beds in his search for anyone hiding underneath. Cooper could see from the insignia on the man’s shoulders that he was a lower ranking leader, a corporal or a sergeant, perhaps. That, coupled with the fact that he was here alone, led Cooper to wonder whether he was here officially, or if he was looting more than searching for guildmembers. The man was in Kolrem/Osrim’s space in the back of the room. It appeared that he’d started with Aden’s spot and proceeded along one wall. “How systematic of him”, Cooper thought as he slipped into his own sleeping space. Cooper reached behind him for an arrow, nocked it, and drew the fletching to his ear as he stood. As soon as the soldier turned to observe the sudden movement Cooper released the arrow. The arrow pierced the soldier’s cheek and it ‘clanged’ lightly on the inside of the soldier’s helmet as it exited out the back of his neck. The arrow had struck the man’s brainstem and he ‘dropped like a sack of potatoes’. “Hmm, just like Mister Skran described”, Cooper observed. He felt a slight pang as he recalled Rukle’s latest words regarding his Combat instructor, but “perhaps it wasn’t him”, he thought. Cooper looked through his collection of worldly belongings, it didn’t take long. He decided to leave the collapsible ladder behind. He had little use for it now. He pulled out his pack and thrust his textbook into it, thinking, “Rebuilding the Guild will have to start somewhere. Education is going to be necessary.” He stepped over to Kolrem’s bed and retrieved his arrow. He had to step on the dead man’s head in order to pull it free. A cursory search of the soldier revealed a few coins, a decent leather belt and a dagger that looked like it was made from good quality steel. Kolrem’s bow had been cracked but his arrows were undamaged. Cooper added them to his collection. Before Cooper left the room he glanced through Trea’s spot for some kind of memento. It would still be a couple of weeks before she was due to return. He wondered what thoughts would go through her mind as she approached the remains of the Guildhouse. He supposed she’d simply stay with the merchant caravan. It would likely be the best way for her to support herself. He considered one of her shirts but decided that space in his pack would be better spent on practical items and instead selected a ribbon that she occasionally used to tie back her hair. Before he left the room, he spotted the copy Aden had made of Miss Camilla’s herb encyclopedia. “This is practical”, Cooper decided, and added it to his pack.
