by P. Tempest
Walking through this ghost town filled me with dread, the magic here felt wrong, not like the foundry twisted, this was different. I couldn't tell what made it different, but it felt dangerous. A sense of something, an echo, there was something just not right here. The unnatural darkness, the lack of people. The death marks. The air of abandonment that pervaded everything.
“What happened here?” I whispered under my breath.
“Many things happened, not all of them in the distant past,” Brendon answered.
“You know? Why didn't you tell me?”
“Knowledge shouldn't be a gift, it needs to be won. You know that. The beatings you received at the academy should have taught you that. Everything must be earned. Give power for free and this is what happens, you end up with mad fools that have no respect for what they call. You paid for your tutelage with blood and pain. Did it teach you to respect for your abilities?”
“I guess it did. They are mine, I paid for them. I worked for them. I might not be the best but it’s all on me.”
“There we go. Give a man something for free and he squanders and abuses it. Make him work hard for it and he will value it.”
“Like the nobles, they were given power by the mage-king, and they abused it and the people in their care,” I mused softly.
“That is one example. This place is another, it has paid the price for others. You can feel it, debts and oaths were broken here. The very birthplace of the oaths.”
Our softly spoken discussion had distracted me and our feet had taken us to the door of the building. Its door way was missing its door, a collection of rotted planks replaced it haphazardly arranged to block the way. I ducked my head under one and twisted my body to pull myself through.
The entry hall was once beautiful, remnants of it remained. The high arches and clean lines of the design bespoke of a great deal of care and effort, and it was reduced to this. A shabby relic of a bygone age. One of the staircases rose up the wall, its treads missing. The other looked intact.
My foot touched the bottom step, it creaked ominously, but held. I laid one hand on the ornate rail, which had seen better days it was scratched, the varnish peeling in places. And the other hand on the hilt of my sword. Each step up increased my sense that something was waiting.
The small balcony that I exited onto was in as bad a shape as everything else. Its ornamental rails looked as if they had been ripped off. The doors leading further into the building was intact, although scarred.
I pulled my sword from the straps I'd fashioned to hold it, I’d best get a scabbard for it soon, it wasn't good to carry a bared blade everywhere even if it was stone.
I stepped over the remains of the rails that had been discarded on the floor and went through the door.
“Who comes baring weapons in my court?” A loud voice called from the gloom.
Light flared.
Torches along the walls sprung to life, casting uncertain illumination over the bare hall. Shadows slithered around the corners of the room Columns of the same grim rock supported the ceiling, made of the same. A large throne dominated the far end of the room, in it was sat a man, wrapped in shadows. I couldn't see any features. Just a blot of shadow on the throne.
“Answer me. You stand before the king of Nelar, holding a weapon, who are you?” Madness danced in his voice, its erratic rhythm disorientating. The shadows swelled as his voice rose.
“I'm Mage Tristan Sodden, Representative of the Wizard's Council. I have come to make an offer to this city.”
The king laughed. Pain and detachment from reality lingered in his laugh, it set my teeth on edge.
“A Mage has come to Nelar. Of course, the eyes should have told me. Your kind have no place here.”
“I've been ordered to serve as an envoy, to court you to join the council. The duchies stand united once more, would you not wish for your people to be part of that?”
“We have no desire to be part of your council. Where were the wizards all these years? My people have bled and died here. It's ours, go back to your masters’ boy, it’s too late. We are dead. This is just the fading memory of a city. The final days of the birth place of the Mage King.” A deep despair filled his words as if all hope was gone and my arrival was some form of cruel joke.
What is going on here, what have they sent me into?
“I'm sorry, I can’t change what has gone before but I will do all I can to help now.”
The king's shadows dispersed granting me sight of a young man. His clothes were rugged leather, no courtly silks for this king. His face was lined, very lined for one so young. He couldn't have been much older than me. He was tall but slim, almost wasted away. He turned his dark eyes on me. A weight settled over me as I stared back into these eyes. So deep, so old.
“You offer aid now? I see you are in earnest, but what is to be done? We stand in the twilight of the city. Its people are but a handful. We can't survive here. I've sent all that can go over the mountains. Magic is a curse here. It does what it will, there is no controlling it.” This time it wasn’t the madness that set me on edge but the heavy desperate hope as if he actually sought aid. There was something very very wrong here. A king that is mad one moment and desperately sane the next. What had happened?
“I don't know what I can do, but I was sent to help. That's what I will do.”
“Ha. A mage's duty. We heard tales of your kind, once you all came here. The mage king’s awakening, he was the first of you. Did you know? You used to come here, a pilgrimage of sorts. There is nothing you can do. Go look, see the city with your blazing eyes. Maybe you will realise the futility of coming here. Leave me.” The King, who I had no name for turned his eyes from me then, his gaze rested on nothing.
I left him to his thoughts. There was nothing for me to do in here.
Brendon waited for me outside the building, his burning eyes seeking something in the city as his sight roved the buildings.
“There is something different about this place. Something.... new.”
“I don't know about that. Did you know this place had a king?”
“I didn't but I'm not surprised, kings rise to fill a need. Someone to look to for guidance and someone to blame when things go wrong.”
“Well, there is a king, I just spoke to him. He wants no part of the duchies. I'm at a loss of how to proceed here.”
“Do what you think is best. If the king wants no part, maybe the people do.”
“What people? Have you seen anyone since we landed?”
“A few. Slinking in the shadows. They will not approach. Fear stalks these streets. They have been taught caution.”
“We need somewhere to set up, if we are going to be working to persuade these people, then we must have a base.”
“How are you planning to persuade them? All the duchies offer is magic, which is poison here.”
“Is it poison? I can tell there is something wrong here, but poison seems harsh. The magic feels… twisted, corrupted.”
(Beat)
“There it is again, what is that?” I turned my head at the noise/feel. It wasn't here I could tell, but it travelled through the magic. My link thrummed in response. There was nothing to see, I resisted the urge to open my othersense, the earlier sights made me reluctance.
“Nothing for you Mage.” The weight in his voice made me turn my head to look at him.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You have a task already, don't take on more than you can handle.”
“I didn't take this on, but it already feels like more than I can handle.”
“Best to get started then.”
I looked over the buildings nearest us. Most were in various states of decay. A few looked intact if scarred. I raised my arm to point at a small but once stately building.
“There. We should check it out. If it’s uninhabited, we can make it safe. Set up a headquarters. We need to work out some communication with Orb. He will be able to advise us.”
“
If that is what you think is the best idea,” Brendon replied non-committally. His gaze never left off examining the city.
“What are you looking for?” I asked.
“I don't know, but I will know it when I see it.”
“That’s vague and unhelpful.”
“It was supposed to be. It’s none of your concern Tristan.”
“Vesic mentioned that I should get you a gift for your intervention, you haven't been overly talkative, I didn't want to intrude or bring it to mind, I didn't know how you felt about what happened.”
“All is well Tristan. What happened has been meant to happen for longer than you have been alive. It is as it is meant to be. I require nothing from you.”
“Well that's just wonderful. Getting told by a God that I have a debt kinda makes me want to fulfil it as soon as I can.”
“Let us move past this. That building you pointed out, you think it will serve us well?”
“I don't know, let’s find out.”
Chapter 37
The inside of the building wasn't very promising, I found myself looking upon it with an eye to demolition. It was that bad.
The door was intact although no functional. It sat next to the door frame it was supposed to fill.
I couldn't even determine what the building had been used for. Dust lined every surface and the few remaining windows were grimy and black, hardly distinguishable from the walls except for streaks of light peering through.
“Looks good,” Brendon commented from just inside the door. I didn’t need magic to detect the sarcasm dripping from those two words. It must be a god thing bleeding over.
“The structure seems sound. We can work with this.”
“Any thoughts on how to do anything without magic?”
“Um, not really. I’d planned on using magic to get it back to rights.”
“Magic doesn't work right here. You know that.”
“What's actually wrong with it?”
“Not wrong exactly, but it leaves a mark. And that mark is not easily dismissed. The price is higher here.”
“That doesn't explain anything, what price?”
“You should know the price. I'm not going to hold your hand Tristan Just be careful how much and what magic you do.”
“That is very clear. What magic should I avoid?”
“I don't know, I don't do magic like you, but Vesic's memories say to avoid wizard magic. No sigils. The magic doesn't like wizards here.”
“Why?”
“That's not for me to say.”
Why are you bound to silence on so much?
“A god's knowledge isn't for men, there is so much that you must find out for yourself.”
I racked my brain for a few moments, thoughts flickering and dying until one struck me like lightning.
“Does this affect Vesic's ability to appear here?” The words just fell out of my mouth as soon as the idea hit.
“Very good Tristan. Yes, he can't come here. I'm on my own for the first time since I was a child.” His earlier confidence drained away, and he trembled slightly.
“That's what I can do for you.” I walked over to Brendon and placed my hand on his shoulder. “You won't be alone, I will be here for you.”
“Thank you Tristan. I'm not a child, but I’ll admit it is unnerving to be alone in my head. Vesic has been with me for so long. It’s so quiet in here.”
“Let's do something useful then to take your mind off it. We need to make this place habitable then set up shop. If we want to be helpful to the people, we need to make them see that joining the wizards is the right thing for them.” I stepped away to contemplate where to start. The sheer amount of work to do was daunting.
“Why did an army not get sent? It could have conquered them and been done with it.”
“I don't know but I get the sense that all is not well. I'm here to gather trade and manpower. That sounds like a war is brewing to me.”
“It might not be a war, but it does seem likely. As a mage, you are a soldier in the wizard's army. It the call goes out you will serve.”
“Who would we be fighting?”
“Last I heard tensions were mounting on the northern border.”
“What's to the north?” Geography wasn't my strong suit.
Brendon snorted. “From everything you have said, very little was your strong suit our northern border has been contested since the mage kings time, although it settled down while he ruled. The remains of the empire are to our north. Rashdan I think they call it now. They want their cities back. It’s been centuries and they haven't forgotten the insult.”
“Few survived the waves anyway. Our society was almost destroyed, just look at this place. What do you think it used to be?” I asked as I ran my hand over a large desk that had clearly seen better days.
“It could have been almost anything. It has a military feel to it.”
“In the middle of the city? Do you not think it more likely to be an administration centre? There are a lot of desks in here.”
“Does it really matter what it was? We will be changing it. What it was doesn't change what we will be doing.”
“It might change what we can do though. You know magic isn't tied to time all that well. If I go restructuring it may change more than I intended.”
“True, we don't want any ghosts here. It was probably military, maybe a quartermaster. All these desks, those filling cabinets.”
“There is a lack of anything enchanted, there don't even seem to be voided bases. Nor any degraded parts. Nothing seems to be giving off any signatures.”
“Enchantment wasn't as common before the wizards rose to power. It takes a mage to make a stable enchantment. Very few mages were outside of the noble’s control. Their fortresses we nigh impregnable, they were so laden with enchantment. This place has been neglected for a long time, even the nobles didn't fight over it, there was nothing here. A near empty city, even one on a possible trade route wasn't worth much, they had their wars to fight.”
I walked over to the corner of the room, there was a simple wooden chair, its four legs uneven but it was stable. I sat and looked over the room, taking and deep breath, closed my eyes and opened my other senses.
The room came alive with lights, streams and clusters like the stars had fallen all around me. Each line and flow was bright as if edged in moonlight, swimming here and there. The earlier darkness was gone, there were no death marks here. Brendon blazed, his eyes the brightest like miniature suns.
The magic that permeated the building, the very substance of brick and mortar was almost grey, faded and on the edge of failure. I summoned my power gently, it answered with a force I’d not expected. I gritted my teeth at the rush and pushed it out into the room. The flows already here started to gravitate towards me, the sheer amount of power calling them.
I turned my attention to the walls and floor, strengthening them. The grey rock that it had all been built from shifted, turning whiter. A humming sound filled my ears as the power flowed hotter, but I wasn't done. Each beam and brick got reinforced. Whispers of voices skittered around the room as the power grew. Shadows deepened and lights brightened. The scent of dust faded away overpowered by smells of fresh cut stone, turned earth and green wood think with resinous sap.
“Tristan hurry up, you can't hold it much longer.”
“Don’t you think I know that? I can feel my bones heating.”
With a final burst, the door flew back to its place, the wood regaining the lustre and shine that it must have had when it was first created.
I tried to sever the flow, but it wouldn't stop. My link shivered as the power grew. A strange creaking could be heard, I noticed all my muscles were tense, they had been the creaking sound. They were pulling at me, tighter, trying to separate from my burning bones.
My other sight started to flicker and pulse. Brightness and darkness. Blind spots crawling and the flows inching steadily closer, their moonlight sheen turning darker, a se
nse of hunger radiating from them.
“Cut it off Tristan.”
“I can't. It won't stop,” I whispered as the pain dug its claws further into my mind.
The blaze that was Brendon stepped closer, the hungry flows shying away from his brightness, a glowing hand, lit from within, touched my head and I knew no more.
(-----)
(Beat)
Traceries of light filled my vision, glimmers of something other. I couldn't feel my body, I could see it but there was a distance, a void, separating me from it. I floated without anchor in this place that wasn't a place.
Pulses run through the threads like blood through veins, a distant heart pumping that blood. I found myself following the pulses, seeking the heart.
Was I dead? Is this what happened at the end?
“Tristan,” a voice called.
The word sounded familiar, it meant something to me, to who I once was.
“Tristan is that you?” the voice called again.
I looked beyond the lights, away from the threads I was following. A huge stone edifice rose up, it floated. Parts of the world went by, each detached, unmoored from its place. Each in its own path, but this building stayed.
“Tristan my boy, what has happened to you?”
The 'me' that floated, looked down into a room, at a man with glowing eyes, like the ones my body had, far from here, or not. Distance was meaningless in this non place. I could look at my body and this room at the same time. I knew it was mine though all memory of owning it was gone. Maybe not gone but beyond reach.
I knew this man, his name eluded me, but I know him down to the core of my being.
“Tristan, what have you done? You can't be here like that. You will be shredded if you remain without a shell for too long. Go back.”
He was talking to me, did that mean I was Tristan?
“I can't,” I said, the words just appearing, without sound. I don't know how.
“You are lost, where is your body?”
Memories seemed to flow back into me with my name, it was mine.
“In Nelar? The place...? Called Nelar.”
“Go back, the shadows will consume you if you stay here. Your body is your home.”
