Soul of Light (The Hidden Wizard Book 4)

by Vaughan W. Smith

“No point being there without Alrion. You also can’t ignore Aydan, that other wizard. Whatever his game is, he’s interfering. I fear that if we don’t do something, he may cause problems at the end.”

  “You think he’s waiting for Alrion to do the spell?”

  “Why else would a wizard help, hover, yet refuse to make himself known? He has an agenda and until we know what it is, it is a huge risk to allow Alrion to complete his quest.” Falric looked quite concerned.

  “Sounds like a bit of a wild goose chase to me. If this wizard is really up to something, then we just need to prepare and head him off when he arrives. What do you think?” Vincent looked to his wife.

  “I’m more inclined to find and confront this wizard sooner rather than later. Then we can focus on ensuring Alrion has what he needs.”

  “Your wife is quite wise.” Falric smiled and Celes batted her eyelashes at Vincent.

  “I see that I’m outnumbered. Where do we go from here then?” Vincent sighed.

  “You’ll need help to continue following the trail.” Falric rose and started pacing around the room.

  “Trail?” Celes said.

  “Well, you’d want to investigate other Wizard Stores. They will paint a picture of his movements, and you may find other clues.”

  “The trail might not lead anywhere. What if he only visited this one?” Celes said.

  “If this wizard is interested in Alrion’s quest, then he would definitely have visited the Wizard Store at Valrytir.” Falric stopped pacing.

  “Why is that?”

  “It’s at the heart of this. And near Alrion’s destination.”

  “Ah-hah!” Vincent pointed at Falric. “That’s what I needed to know.”

  “Oh, but it’s not the final destination. And I haven’t told you where the Wizard Store is.”

  “You’re going to guide us then? That’s a good plan.” Celes looked like she was working through some ideas.

  “No, I cannot. I must wait here for Alrion. Plus, I can further my knowledge at the same time.”

  “Can’t Caleb do that? Help Alrion retrieve the knowledge he needs?” Vincent looked over at the scholar.

  “It is true that I may be able to help Alrion,” Caleb began to explain.

  “But as he’s not a wizard he can’t learn all the details that Alrion needs. He will likely want another wizard to talk it through,” Falric said.

  “If you’re staying here, how do we visit Wizard Stores?” Celes said.

  “Excellent question. For that, we will need to return to my quarters.” Falric paused for a moment then strode off to the door. Vincent gave Celes a questioning look and she shrugged.

  “Let’s see what he has,” she said softly. Vincent nodded, and they followed Falric out of the room.

  Falric led them back to Paperton, and they retraced their steps to the room where they had found him. He asked them to wait a moment and started looking through a dusty wooden chest.

  “Ah-hah!” Falric dusted something off with his robe then presented it to Celes.

  “What’s this?” Celes turned the object around in her hands. It was a metallic disc with some inscriptions on it.

  “It’s a Wizard’s Marker. One that I made. It’s infused with my Spark and can be used to open Wizard Stores.”

  “How do we use it?” Vincent said.

  “Instead of knocking with your hand, use that. If the door doesn’t open, then state your name. The door will do the rest.” Falric grinned, looking quite pleased with himself.

  “This solves our problem then.” Celes looked to Vincent.

  “True, we just need to know the location of the Wizard Store we are supposed to visit.”

  “Yes, yes. I should write that down for you.” Falric sat down at his desk, pulling out a sheet of parchment and a pen. He wrote copious notes and even scrawled a small drawing.

  “This will make sense once you reach Valrytir.” Falric handed the paper to Celes who studied it.

  “Are you sure about that?” Celes handed it to Vincent.

  “Trust me, you’ll find what you need. I can’t explain it better without making it usable by anyone. It’s imperative that we keep this location secret.” Falric gave Celes a serious look. Vincent handed her back the page.

  “I think we can work with this. We need to trust Falric.”

  “You want to trust him now? You didn’t seem too happy with his behaviour earlier?” Celes gave Vincent a pointed look. The blacksmith raised his hands in a surrender gesture.

  “We’re at his mercy on this. As much as I don’t agree with some of his decisions, his knowledge about Wizards and related matters can’t be argued with. If we’re on this path, then we can trust his information.” Falric gave them a satisfied smile.

  “I suppose you’re right on that. This better work.” Celes shook the medallion at Falric.

  “Go try it now, I’ll wait here.” Falric pulled out a book and started reading it immediately.

  “After you.” Vincent gestured to the door. Celes sighed and started walking. They kept a quick pace through the town.

  “I just feel like we’re missing something. I can’t explain it,” Celes said.

  “I know what you mean. I think Falric knows something but he’s not telling us. He wants us to discover it ourselves.” Celes stopped abruptly.

  “You’re right. That’s it. It makes sense now.” Celes shook her head. “Now I know what you mean about wizards. You just feel like they’re manipulating you.”

  “For your own good, they’ll say.” Vincent chuckled.

  “Maybe so. But I have to agree with it. We need to deal with this wizard that is shadowing Alrion. It’ll be catastrophic if we don’t. I’m not going to interfere with his quest, but I am going to make sure nobody else can.”

  “That I can agree with. Let’s test out this trinket.” Vincent started walking and Celes rushed ahead.

  They arrived at the dusty shed quickly. Celes retrieved the medallion from her jacket and knocked it on the door three times. Nothing happened. Vincent nudged her and pointed to her mouth.

  “Celes,” she said. The door opened a crack, and Celes smiled at Vincent. She pushed the door open and entered the room.

  “Let’s check out the ledger,” Vincent said. Celes headed straight for it and flipped it open. It didn’t take long to find the right page.

  “Here it is.” Celes pointed to the newly added entry.

  “There’s your name. Oh, and it says, ‘on behalf of Falric’. Very clever.” Vincent chuckled.

  “Yes, I can see why Falric was so pleased with this. I’m glad it works.” Celes looked around, “do you think we can find something of use in here before we go?”

  “Perhaps. You start looking around, I have a hunch I’d like to investigate.” Vincent returned to the book and flipped through the pages. He was looking at all the entries. Apart from the recent activity, there was very little. Soon it became years between entries. Finally, he stopped flipping pages and tapped on the page with his index finger.

  “Celes, come look at this.” Vincent waited for her to join him and stepped back.

  “Aydan. He’s been here before? When?”

  “It looks like it’s almost twenty years. A long time.”

  “How interesting. So, that would suggest that he is older.”

  “Indeed. That helps narrow it down, doesn’t it?” Vincent looked at Celes and she smiled.

  “Fine, yes you’re not too bad an investigator yourself. That was a very helpful discovery.” Celes looked back to the room. “What else could we find here?”

  “I’m not sure, but let’s see what kind of information is here. We might find something to help Alrion.” Vincent started on the nearest bookshelf, his wife started at the opposite corner of the room.

  Vincent noticed that the tomes seemed to be organised by wizard. The volumes corresponding to the same author were all clustered together. Many didn’t involve dates, but with a bit of reading between the li
nes, you could spot something which aged the information. By sampling from different books, he started to notice a trend.

  “They’re grouped by author, but also chronologically.” Vincent stepped back and mentally traced the timeline through the shelves.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Books by my father.”

  “I see. Where do you think they will be?”

  “That corner most likely.” Vincent pointed then joined Celes. They looked through the books, carefully looking for information about the authors and the contents.

  “So much of this is unreadable,” Celes sighed.

  “Yes, it must be about spells. But surely there is other information too.” Vincent pulled out a book and recognised the handwriting. He excitedly turned through the pages.

  “Look at this.” Vincent offered the book to his wife. Celes took the book and examined it.

  “I can read this. Who wrote this? I don’t see any signatures.”

  “My father, I recognise the handwriting.”

  “Wow, this is quite a find. Maybe we will learn something from this. Do you think we can take it with us? It looks quite dense.” Celes flipped through the book and sampled different pages.

  “Why don’t you try, you have the medallion.”

  “Good idea.” Celes closed the book and strode over to the door. She opened the door, paused then walked outside. Vincent rushed over to the ledger and flipped to the most recent page.

  A treatise on the Pool of Knowledge and information transfer, by Granthion. Borrowed by Celes on behalf of Falric.

  “So far so good.” Vincent closed the book and left the room, joining his wife.

  “Looks like it worked?” she said as he approached.

  “Yes, I even saw a line in the ledger. Falric will know that we have taken it.”

  “Fine by me.”

  “Likewise. Why don’t we call it a day then? We have a long journey ahead of us.” Vincent started off towards Falric’s lodgings and Celes kept pace.

  “I’m excited. It feels like we have something we can help with.” Celes was positively beaming.

  “Me too. It’s a good feeling.” Vincent put his arm around his wife and they kept walking.

  23

  The Ancient Trial

  Certan struck out his palm, feeling the force of the strike then holding his position. After a few moments, he relaxed and bowed. The monk opposite him bowed too and quickly retreated.

  “They’ll trust you more if you actually hit them,” Graem said.

  “It’s a matter of respect. I am restraining myself.”

  “It looks like disrespect, you assume that they can’t take a hit.” Graem shook his head and started leaving the room. The rest had already left, and the giant stone room seemed unnaturally still. Certan rushed off to catch up with his fellow monk.

  “I feel like I brought destruction here,” Certan said.

  “That creature? It would find its way here eventually anyway. You brought the wizard, that was helpful. And he did marvellously. Helped me out too.”

  “You as well?”

  “Yes, he cleared out some Blighters trying to scale the walls. In return, I led him down to the Vault of Silence.”

  “Have you done the trial?” Upon Certan’s words, Graem stopped dead still and turned around.

  “That’s not something you can ask a fellow monk. It’s not respectful.”

  “It’s a simple question.”

  “No, not really. Perhaps I have not reached that level of seniority, and as I am your senior that questions my ability. Perhaps I tried and failed and carry that wound with me. Or perhaps I have succeeded, yet you haven’t recognised my mastery despite my success. Which of those options seems respectful to you?” Graem gave Certan a stern look.

  “I’m sorry, I hadn’t thought it through like that. Perhaps I’ve been away too long.”

  “No, you’re just clutching at anything because you have no purpose.” Graem started walking. “Although, now I bet you’re wondering whether I’ve actually done the trial in the Vault of Silence.”

  “I think I’ve worked it out.”

  “And your answer?”

  “Will not be revealed.” Certan grinned and Graem laughed out loud.

  “Now you’re thinking like a monk. There’s hope for you yet.” Graem stopped suddenly. He looked back at Certan with curiosity. Certan joined Graem, wondering what had given the monk pause.

  An elder monk stood before them. They almost never left the Vault of Silence, even now that the extensive repair work on the temple had turned everyone’s routines upside down.

  “Certan, you have not accepted our summons,” the elder monk said in a low monotonous voice.

  “Summons? There’s been no summons.”

  “Directly? No, we don’t work like that. But you have been shown the signs, you’ve had the Trial mentioned to you. Even by this one.” The elder pointed to Graem.

  “Perhaps you’re right.”

  “Perhaps?”

  “Yes, you’re right.”

  “Why have you ignored us?”

  “I don’t know.” Certan looked at Graem, the monk was staring at Certan with no emotion.

  “Don’t look at him for help, tell us the truth.” The elder’s voice had a tinge of annoyance in it.

  “I don’t deserve to take the Trial. I failed the order once and acted poorly. Even by attempting to redeem myself I brought ruin and death to this sacred place. It is enough that you suffer my presence so that I might earn my place among you.” Certan bowed deep. The elder stood perfectly still, not reacting. After a long pause, he spoke.

  “Are you done?”

  “Speaking?

  “Yes.”

  “I am done.”

  “Good. Follow me now.” The elder dismissed Graem with a gesture and turned the corner. Certan followed closely behind.

  What’s going on? Is he taking me to the trial? I’m not prepared. This is not the right time.

  Certan recognised the route they were taking. All the monks knew the way, even though many would never be asked to join the elders in that place. With each step, he felt a pit in his stomach. Fighting evil, dying if need be, did not concern him. He had already thrown his life away when he turned to drinking. But this, this was terrifying. His life would be examined by the monks, and if he was to do the trial, then that would be something else.

  Every whispered tale of horror concerning the trial flooded back to Certan’s memory. He was more anxious by the moment, the intense shame of his behaviour when he had been banished came back even stronger.

  “Enter.” The elder stood by the door and ushered Certan in. He entered the room and saw the three other elders all sitting. The last elder took his place with them.

  “Why do you approach us, Certan,” one elder said.

  “Because you summoned me.”

  “Why did we summon you?”

  “To do the trial and enter the Vault of Silence.”

  “You are not ready,” another elder said. Certan was taken aback by the comment. He thought about it for a moment.

  “You’re right, I should come back another time.”

  “Refusal of the trial is the same as failure. Only, with failure, you are sometimes given another chance.”

  “Why summon me if I’m not ready and I cannot refuse without forfeiting my chance forever?”

  “You should be asking yourself that. Why have you forced us to act this way?” Certan felt like he had been given a gut punch. He felt faint.

  I’m set up to fail. They’re punishing me for what I’ve done.

  “The Vault of Silence is the catalyst that removes doubt. You will move forward, stronger, or you will be broken. It is the next step that you must take.”

  “Why? I’ve done everything I can to keep my place here. Can I stay if I pass the trial?”

  “No,” another elder shouted, his voice ringing through the space.

  “I don’t unde
rstand.”

  “Your place is not here. Your place is with him.”

  Alrion.

  “The wizard?”

  “You should never have left his side. He has suffered much but continues to gain in strength. Yet, he cannot succeed alone.”

  “There are others to support him. Let me prove myself here first.”

  “Pass the trial. Go aid your friend. Only then will you be worthy of a place here.”

  “There is always a choice. But if you wish to remain a monk, then you must accept our price,” another elder said. In unison, they bowed their heads.

  Maybe I made a mistake, and Alrion is in more trouble. I thought I could fix my situation. This feels so rushed, but perhaps it’s as it should be.

  “Very well. I accept your terms.” Certan stood forward with confidence. There was nothing to lose. If he refused, everything was lost anyway. He had gone down that road, and it had ruined him. It was time to stand up, whatever the cost. Certan saw a doorway opening in the distance, white and shimmering. He walked towards it, slowly but carefully. He tried as much as he could to peer in, but he couldn’t see anything.

  Here goes.

  Certan stepped into the light and in a flash, he was somewhere else. It looked like a bar. Wooden floors with a thick wooden bar, with only one table and chair. The walls were lined with shelves, and each shelf was crammed full of alcohol.

  No, no, no.

  Certan spun around, taking the room in. He could smell it, the intoxicating mix of vapours that hung in the air. He thought he might get drunk from the smell itself.

  This is just a test. I can do this.

  Certan strode over to the nearest shelf and grabbed a bottle. He opened it, looking inside. Certan dropped the bottle in shock and it smashed soundlessly on the floor, the contents oozing out. The smell was stronger now.

  They’re not empty or fake. It feels real.

  Certan realised something was wrong though. He kicked the biggest piece of the bottle to the corner. The bottle spun and ricocheted off the table legs on its way over. All without making a sound.

  The Vault of Silence? It’s not all for dramatic effect.

  There was definitely no exit, just bottles upon bottles of different drinks. Spirits, wines, ale, it was all there.