The Legacy of the Ten: Book 01 - Eyes of the Keep

by Scott D. Muller

  Not seeing any other practical option, Zedd’aki nodded. “Agreed, but you must promise me that you’ll reseal the Cave when you are finished, replace every ward. No one must ever suspect.”

  Ja’tar’s expression softened.

  “Don’t worry my old friend. I will take care.”

  Zedd’aki whispered half to himself. “I will miss you when you are dead.”

  “Dead?” Ja’tar exclaimed, overhearing the unintended comment.

  “There will be wards. Potent, dangerous wards set by battle wizards. By the Ten, yes! I’m sure there will be evil wards, and beasts… horrible beasts.”

  “There probably are — But I am the Keeper. There are things that I know that are not known —”

  “Not what?”

  “Not known to —” Ja’tar cut himself off, but it was too late.

  “To who?” Zedd’aki spat.

  Ja’tar swallowed hard, “Not known to you — or anybody else here in the Keep.”

  “So you are the Chosen?”

  “Yes, and let’s leave it at that.”

  “You seem to know a lot about the cave …” Zedd’aki shot back in an accusatory tone.

  “I’m the Keeper!”

  “I’m just saying —” Zedd’aki stammered, lowering his glance. He had not meant to accuse his friend.

  Ja’tar emphasized, “I should know more!”

  “But these protections were set by the Ten, the Ten! Get yourself killed you will, and I’ll be stuck wiping your gore off of the rocks if you aren’t careful.”

  “Point well taken.” Ja’tar had not missing the not-so subtle reference to the watcher.

  Zedd’aki spat on the ground. “I think I will leave you on the rock as a warning to others!”

  “Zedd’aki,” Ja’tar said, raising his voice. “Enough! I hear your arguments.”

  “Bah!” said Zedd’aki bitterly.

  “Even if I find nothing in the Cave, we still need to find out what exactly happened. I fear we will be forced to deal with this one way or another. I would much rather control the circumstances, choose the time and place than have my hand forced.”

  “Why?” Zedd’aki demanded. “We don’t know for sure that this event isn’t a singular tragedy. Why can’t we just leave things alone?”

  “Alone? By the deities, the power it takes to control so much of the flow…. at a minimum, we have a new foe — a very mighty foe.” Ja’tar slammed his fist into the palm of his hand. His eyes shot wide before he spoke sharply and, leaning over close, he shook his finger in front of Zedd’aki’s nose. “We need to take action.”

  Zedd’aki pushed the finger out of his face and grabbed his friend’s shoulder, rubbing gently. “Calm down Ja’tar. I’m sure that not all is as dire as you imagine it to be. You are still in shock my friend.”

  “You are wrong!” Ja’tar replied, pushing his friend’s hand from his shoulder forcefully and staring him in the eyes.

  “This power — I remember the last war between planes — I remember the horrible power we had to wield, the painful joining. I saw the results of the battle, the earth scarred, minds destroyed.” Ja’tar shivered as the thoughts he had pushed aside for centuries returned.

  “The work it took to rebuild not to mention the lost lives! Think of the lives that were destroyed! My father suffered the sickness until he ascended. I had to watch him retch and quiver as the dark magic sapped his vitality and crippled his body. My older brother was killed in the early battles, and there were countless wizards and sorceresses who died, or were maimed to rectify the wrong we had perpetuated through our arrogance.”

  Zedd’aki shook his head, “I remember too my friend. I was there by your side the whole time. I also lost my father, and an uncle. I too lost dear, dear friends. We were so young back in the day. We knew so little.”

  “But I am two hundred years older than you are…”

  “So, you are saying?”

  “I saw more of the war …,” Ja’tar said, as his voice trailed off. “I fought in the earlier battles, when hundreds of wizards lined the banks of the Forlorn River and made it boil.”

  “Maybe you did, but I feel the pain too,” said Zedd’aki indignantly.

  “I just. I just remember my father telling me of his days as a young wizard, when the Ten were still around. And if those times return…”

  “They cannot return. That knowledge was destroyed. The war was won, the Ten are dead and long gone,” said Zedd’aki hastily.

  Ja’tar raised a brow, “So we are led to believe. Did you personally witness the destruction of the tomes? Eh? Do you really think that the Ten would destroy all those spells, artifacts and incantations not knowing whether they had truly sent the demons back to whence they came?”

  Zedd’aki raised a brow, knowing where his friend was leading the conversation. “Surely they would… it would have been pure folly not to.”

  “Indeed. But I repeat. Did you witness? Would you be willing to bet your life on it?”

  Zedd’aki shuddered. “Are you suggesting that they saved all the old magic, all those evil, vile spells? Spells that create abominations, suck the souls, and control lower plane warriors?”

  Ja’tar guffawed, “All? No, I don’t think even they could have gotten away with that, but we have never been able to gain access to their private rooms and it was well known that they all kept diaries of their greatest achievements. “

  “We’d better hope not.”

  “I’m merely saying that I don’t believe it would have been in the best interest of the Guild to destroy all that knowledge.”

  “Because?”

  “Because there is a chance that someday, the Guild may need that knowledge to defeat an unexpected return of the dark times.”

  “So, you think the Cave still has hidden secrets, unknown to any living mage?” Zedd’aki fearfully queried.

  “Absolutely yes, I think the Cave has many secrets. Most of which even I have no desire to learn.”

  “Pray to the gods you don’t!”

  “However, I also believe that some of the lesser artifacts could help us now,” Ja’tar said with confidence.

  Zedd’aki was puzzled, “If the Guild hid the artifacts in the cave, who would know about them? If you are the Keeper and you do not know, who would they trust with such dangerous knowledge?”

  “I … do not know. That is a conundrum. Maybe the Cave has an enchantment of need and all will become apparent if the need arises.”

  “By that line of reasoning… this must not be the time,” Zedd’aki followed the reasoning to its logical conclusion.

  Ja’tar took another big sip from his glass and swirled its contents around slowly, taking a big whiff from the goblet, “Until we check, we will not know.”

  “I sense that nothing has changed,” said Zedd’aki, after searching his feelings.

  “Magic isn’t exact. Maybe the wards were ill constructed. Or maybe we cannot feel the change from here.”

  “By the Ten, you jest!” Zedd’aki laughed out loud finding humor even in this dire conversation.

  Ja’tar just shrugged. “Everyone makes mistakes… however; I tend to believe that the shortcoming is on our side. Not theirs.”

  Zedd’aki commented wryly, “Myself, I don’t believe for a second that Duvall ever made a mistake in her life.”

  Ja’tar reasoned aloud, “Let’s say for sake of argument that we do find what we need in the Cave, what’s next?”

  “What do you mean?” Zedd’aki asked, not following where his friend was leading.

  “Would it be worth it, worth the risk?”

  “I suppose, but where do you draw the line? How do you choose when to stop?” Zedd’aki was seriously concerned about their will power when faced with a life and death decision, or even worse, when temped with powers better left alone.

  “We’ll know,” Ja’tar insisted.

  Zedd’aki cautioned, “Remember, the stories of the temptations of pure power? It co
rrupts and was at the root of all that went awry in the days of Ror.”

  “But we know better.”

  Zedd’aki guffawed. “If they couldn’t resist the powers that made men as gods, if they yearned for more and lost their humanity, what will become of us, for we have neither the mastery nor knowledge that they possessed?”

  “You really believe we can’t learn from their failures?”

  Zedd’aki leaned closer to his friend and whispered in his ear. “Anything is possible, but think carefully on this; what if we liberate something that is better left dormant or start another Time of Woe in our haste? Where would that leave us?”

  “We have no way of knowing in advance what may or may not happen. But what choice do we really have? Inaction isn’t a viable plan,” said Ja’tar, fully understanding what his friend was implying and knowing that his friend was right.

  Zedd’aki’s eyes narrowed, “So you trust them and you’re willing to wager your life on this, and all of our lives, along with the future of the realms?”

  “No, I didn’t say that. I don’t trust them, that is why I feel we are better equipped than they were. If we were to fail…” Ja’tar shook his head. He could see how uneasy his friend was, almost to the point of rage.

  Zedd’aki stood up and paced in front of the window, nervously fidgeting.

  “We need to remember how we got here in the first place. There were damn good reasons the Guild locked everything away never to be used. There were good reasons for the races to decide that the time of the ancients and powerful magi had come to an end. We are reclusive because of these reasons. We should not forget… those reasons,” said Zedd’aki harshly, scolding his old friend like a small child.

  “Do not think for a second that I am naive and that I only seek the adventure of the unknown,” Ja’tar fired back as he chided his friend, shaking a crooked finger in his face.

  “You seem to me to be overly eager to pursue this madness, Ja’tar. It deeply concerns me,” said Zedd’aki, matter-of-factly, raising the tone of his voice, “I don’t trust them, the Ten. No I don’t, not one bit. They were devious, scheming and single-minded in their pursuit.”

  “I agree.”

  “As I understand history, it was only the combined efforts of the other races which held them in check.”

  Ja’tar nodded his acknowledgment of what Zedd’aki had said.

  “Although I greatly respect their achievements, nothing I have read of their history leads me to believe they were honorable people. They were ruthless and greedy; they lusted for power and ruled by fear.”

  Ja’tar searched his friend in the eyes. “I agree. I don’t trust them either, but who is to say that none of those ancient demons survived… or recovered. Those were desperate times. We cannot sit and judge their actions. By all accounts, they single-handedly saved the realms.”

  Zedd’aki just nodded, knowing it was true.

  “And…we can’t just sit back waiting for the next disaster to strike!” Ja’tar yelled back red faced. “We are too few.”

  “We were damn lucky to survive the last time they attacked. This time…?” Zedd’aki voice faltered, as he knew he wasn’t going to win this argument.

  “I want you to see something,” Ja’tar said. “We need to go back down to the library.”

  “Now?”

  “Now!” Ja’tar demanded as he stood and placed his empty goblet on the desk. Zedd’aki quickly drained his and followed Ja’tar out of the room.

  Duvall felt them leave. Actually, she more sensed that they had left. She sighed heavily. For a second, she thought she had reached the man in the next room. She had been unsuccessful again. The wards on her room were just too strong for her to break through. She had tried to dispel them, but she didn’t have enough power from within the bal’achar. She stared out the window and watched the clouds roll past. May be today another bird would visit and sing to her.

  It didn’t take long before they were standing in front of the giant oak table. The mess had been cleaned and the room had been put back into order. The orb still sat on the table, covered with its protective cloth. The tattered pieces of the flags and maps had been removed and the pool of molten metal had been scraped free of the rock and disposed of. Even the remains of the Dragonbone chair were gone.

  “I need you to look into the orb. Prepare yourself!” Ja’tar demanded.

  Zedd’aki sighed. He supposed there was just no use in arguing with Ja’tar when he got into one of his moods.

  “I presume I don’t have a choice?” Zedd’aki grumbled. “If you are this worried, I guess I can take a look for the sake of the Guild.”

  Ja’tar tossed the covering aside and set his wards in place. He grasped the orb and pulled up the last of the viewings. He set it up to repeat the last five minutes or so of the events that had played out earlier in the day. When he finished, he released the orb and pushed it in front of his friend.

  Ja’tar nodded forcefully, motioned for his friend to gaze into the orb, and said in all earnestness, “Indeed! We are small in number, a shadow of who we were. Now… you need to look into the orb for yourself… You need to understand my suspicions, but I warn you, prepare your guards well. Danger may still lurk.”

  “Very well, Ja’tar. If that will ease your pain, I will look into El’batar, but I am no watcher.” Zedd’aki frowned as he began his preparation, expecting the worst.

  Ja’tar nodded and pulled out a chair for his friend. “That will not matter. Although I am not a true watcher, I used to teach and I’ve set up the viewing for you. All you need to do is ward yourself and ask El’batar to show you its last record. You know the words?”

  “I remember them.”

  Zedd’aki wove his spells and set his wards before leaning over the table and pulling the orb in front of himself. He beckoned it to show what was last observed.

  He set his hands on the orb, which was still almost too hot to touch and watched. At first, just the swirl of the ethereal mist was visible, and the view slowly expanded and came into focus, replaying the last few minutes.

  The scene was gruesome and Zedd’aki had to look away several times to quell his queasy stomach. Sweat dripped down his brow and his face was red with anger, as he came to realize the horror of which his friend had tried so ineffectively to explain.

  He cut his connection to the orb and gazed up, Zedd’aki’s jaw quivered as he whispered, “Ja’tar, you were right. We must find out what did this. I didn’t know ….”

  “Words cannot explain. This is what I fear.”

  He stammered, “Oh, by the Ten, I didn’t know!”

  “Indeed. However, just as important as finding the truth, I think we must also hold a Closing. Whatever did this must never escape. Never, do you hear me?”

  Zedd’aki turned away from the orb and raised his brows. “A Closing? Ja’tar, is that absolutely necessary? The wards are already in place, you yourself said the Life Towers had closed the realm.”

  “I don’t trust the wards,” Ja’tar mumbled.

  Because Closings were so difficult, intricately woven and incredibly powerful wards were put in place to automatically cordon off a realm if the guardian spires detected black magic use or even regular magic use at a level deemed to be of a threat to other realms.

  It wasn’t known exactly when the spires had come into being, or even who created them. Ja’tar suspected that the other races had joined to fashion them as a means of protecting themselves from rogue magi as well as from the demons, although much of the records from those days had been lost. For all Ja’tar knew, maybe they made the towers to protect themselves from the Ten.

  There had not been a Closing held in ages, and Ja’tar had never actually presided over one in all his years as a Keeper. They were dangerous to perform and required nine of the elders to assemble to hold one. It was difficult to control the Zylliac, the wraith-like being that existed in all realms and acted as a conduit between the one source, the gift, and those who
learn to command the magic through it. Only the Zylliac was strong enough to choke off an entire realm from the one source permanently.

  A Few Words

  Ja’tar casually threw a cloth over the orb and slammed the Book of Records closed, “We must hold council.”

  Zedd’aki’s had been examining the charred remains he had found in a tidy pile hidden off to the side of a bookcase and the loud noise startled him. His head snapped around to view his friend. He had been caught by surprise and quickly asked, “Wh-when?”

  “Soon…tonight if possible, I’m thinking after dinner. I feel we cannot afford to delay.” Ja’tar categorically scowled as he ran his hand over the intricately carved leather cover.

  “What do we tell them? Even we are not sure of the events that transpired.”

  “I suppose the truth, at least as we know it,” said Ja’tar calmly as he shrugged. “What else can we say?”

  Zedd’aki nodded although he wasn’t sure that the truth was the message they should hear, “All of the truth? Do you think they will believe?

  Ja’tar dusted off his hands and rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure it matters.”

  “You think it doesn’t matter? Why not?”

  “They’ll believe or not I expect. Nothing we can do about that.”

  “But what if they panic,” said Zedd’aki, pursuing a thought path that was pure conjecture. “Where does that leave us?”

  Ja’tar scrunched his brow as he looked up from the book. “Panic, how so?”

  “I mean, what if they agree and want to call back all the travelers,” Zedd’aki reasoned. “What then?”

  “Then we do as they ask.”

  “We’re already as removed from the world as we can afford, any more and we might as well completely pull back to the Keep.”

  “All we can do is our best to ease their minds,” said Ja’tar, resigning himself to the idea. “We’ll never please everyone.”

  “I suppose so —” Zedd’aki nodded in agreement. “It’s just —”