The battle was over and Headmaster Florent could not imagine a more bitter victory. Large sections of The Academy were destroyed. The losses at the Scholars’ Academy were too horrible to contemplate. With no way of defending themselves, a small group of ravagers had decimated the scholars. Once numbering just over a thousand students and faculty, fewer than four hundred managed to reach and lock themselves within the expansive vaults protecting the most cherished archives in the kingdom.
Tears flowed freely down Headmaster Florent’s face as she stood at the entrance to the novice dorms, absorbing the horror that had occurred there. Although all of the student houses suffered terrible losses, the bulk of them had occurred here. The ravagers struck the hardest at those least able to defend themselves.
She continued to stare down the hall as an icy chill crept up her spine. “Did you do this?”
“No,” the voice behind her answered.
She stroked the Source, prepared to tear at it with every ounce of her being and unleash it upon the sorcerer. “On your mother’s soul!”
“I did not cause this,” Azerick said.
Maureen choked on a sob and faced the emotionless sorcerer. “Could you have prevented it?” Azerick inclined his head ever so slightly. “Was it easy? Was it easy to make the choice of letting these children die to teach us a lesson?”
“When I compare it to the number who would die if you continued to ignore my warnings and chose to not prepare, yes, it was easy. My people are prepared, The Martial Academy is prepared, or at least preparing, and armies throughout the kingdom and beyond are preparing, but it is not enough. Without The Magus Academy, we will all die.”
Maureen shuddered. He was right. Never in their history had The Academy been attacked. She and her people had been confident, arrogantly so, that such a thing could never happen. Despite Lord Giles practically begging them, in his way, to prepare, they chose to ignore his warnings and suffered for their hubris.
“Damn you to the abyss!”
“I have been damned once. I would be surprised if it was the last time.”
“Does it at least hurt? Are you even capable of feeling pain or remorse for your choice?”
“Giving in to sentimentality and guilt will kill as surely as the ravagers and the host of other creatures clawing to get at our throats. But yes, it hurts. It was as painful a lesson to teach as to learn, but one none of us can ignore.”
“Good, I am glad it hurts. I hope you take the pain to your next grave and, this time, you stay in it! If you were not part of this, how is it you are here already? Did you fly in on your dragon?”
Azerick handed her a thin, leather-bound book. “This is something I have been working on. It explains how to create a stable gateway capable of transporting people hundreds, even thousands of miles. I saw one when I was taken captive by psylings. It transported the entire ship and crew to their city. I made a small one just outside the walls. When I sensed the breach in the barrier, I used it to carry me to Southport. You will erect one at each of the city’s main gates. My people are already constructing similar gates in North Haven. Yours will take the people to Brightridge, mine to Brelland so we can evacuate the cities.”
“You believe Southport and North Haven might fall?”
“There is no might; they will fall. You saw what just a couple thousand ravagers did to the most concentrated and powerful forces in Valeria. Imagine a thousand times that number assaulting our cities. I believe they will come from the sea, ferrying the initial assault force in their flying ships. Once they have secured a beachhead, they will erect gates similar to these to bring the rest through.”
Headmaster Florent looked at the book in her hand and to Magus Armand and Magus Sorenson. “Have the artifact vault unsealed. I want every artifact we can use to help defend ourselves distributed into the hands of the staff and every wizard-level talent available to us.”
“Headmaster, the council must discuss all of this before we act rashly,” Magus Armand replied.
“Look around you! We are the council! The rest are dead along with hundreds of our students! I am declaring martial law and taking command of The Academy.”
“Martial Law? Headmaster, such a declaration is reserved for the most desperate times of war!”
“We are at war, Magus,” Headmaster Florent stressed. “We have squandered a year of preparation and I will not let another minute pass. Coordinate with Commandant Reese to begin combined training exercises. I want a copy of Lord Giles’ training doctrine in the hands of every staff member by tomorrow. I want two dozen adepts from the most influential families to scour the cities in search of anyone with the propensity for wielding magic. If we can construct these gates quickly, we should be able to find most of them within a few months.”
“Headmaster,” Magus Armand said, “if you insist upon this overzealous, overreaching demand for power without first gaining the consensus of the staff, I must oppose you on this.”
“If you oppose her, you oppose me, Magus,” Azerick said simply, but the threat was evident in his voice.
Magus Armand looked to Magus Sorenson but found no support there. “Very well, Headmaster. But when this is through, there will be an inquiry, I promise you.”
“If we are alive when this is over, I will welcome it.”
“It appears you have things in hand, Headmaster,’ Azerick said. “I shall you leave you to your creation.”
As Azerick walked away, Maureen wondered if his last comment was directed at her efforts to prepare or a final barb for the massacre she allowed to happen this night.
Azerick stumbled through the gate, dropped to his knees, and sicked up the contents of his stomach. His entire body shuddered as he tried to wall off the pain of what he allowed to happen this night. He gasped in several deep breaths before getting to his feet and making his way home.
Wolf watched Azerick from the inky recesses of a tree. He did not know what terrible thing Azerick had done or witnessed, but he was grateful to not have the responsibilities placed upon Azerick’s shoulders.
Azerick climbed the stairs to his room that may as well have been a mountain. He had not been in his bedroom for weeks since he felt little of the effects of physical fatigue; this pain, though, was emotional and it was crushing him beneath its weight. He feared he would collapse at any moment.
He stood for several minutes and watched Miranda as she slept. Her lone form was a testament to one of the many sacrifices he and his family had made, and one of his greatest failures. He needed to reach out to Daebian before he became so lost he might never find his way, but there never seemed to be the time. Both his sons grew so fast. It was all out of control. Daebian was a man in mind and rapidly approaching adulthood in body as well, Raijaun even more so. His rapid growth, due to his demonic and draconic natures, had him standing a few inches taller than his brother and almost as mature in appearance. How could he possibly manage the defense of an entire kingdom when he had no control over his own family?
Miranda stirred as Azerick conjured a light. “Azerick, what’s wrong?” she asked as she blinked against the soft light and saw the remorse carved on his face.
“I murdered a thousand people today, hundreds of them children.”
“What?” Miranda exclaimed as she threw her legs over the side of the bed and rushed to Azerick’s side.
“Ravagers attacked The Academy tonight. They penetrated the wards around it and caught them unprepared.”
“Azerick, you cannot blame yourself.”
“Yes I can. I let it happen. I saw the weakening. I knew where it was going. I chose to ignore it and repaired others of lesser threat instead. I told myself it had to be done.”
“Could you not have warned them?”
“No. They would not have believed me, or worse, accused me of masterminding the attack. Even if I had warned them and they prepared for the attack, they would have made excuses afterward, taken half steps, not thinking beyond what they saw tonight. They
had to experience the full horror of what we face.”
“Then this is what needed to happen. I trust you.”
Azerick shuddered. “I wish I could trust myself. I kept telling myself this was the only way, but part of me wanted to punish them, wanted to make them hurt for not listening to me. I am the man who returned from the dead, who spoke to the gods. I am a hero many times over. Who are they to ignore me? I fear there is a tyrant in me, Miranda. There is a tyrant who preaches benevolence until he does not get his due and I hate him. I am terrified at becoming what I most abhor.”
Miranda held him tightly. “I do not think you ever have to fear becoming a tyrant. A true tyrant never doubts himself, never questions his actions or rights. You will always question yourself and do what you know is proper no matter how hard the choices you face. It is why the gods chose you save us above all others. The gods could have given power to anyone. It is your morality and conviction that cannot be duplicated.”
For the first time in months, Azerick lay beside his wife and took comfort in her arms.
***
Daebian defeated his fourth opponent today, the best the school had to offer. He could even beat Alex two out of five times without using Klaraxis’ power. Only Jansen remained as an insurmountable opponent. Even when heightening his physical and mental acuity with the demon’s dark power, he barely held his own for the majority of a match.
The day of sparring was over and it was time to feed his demon. Klaraxis whined incessantly if he went long without consuming the life of another creature. He still complained since Daebian would feed him nothing other than the life force of animals he caught in the woods despite the demon’s constant insistence of going into the city and relieving the occasional vagrant of their wasted life.
That was something neither of his fathers understood about him. Everything he did had a purpose. Azerick droned on and on about choosing the right path, considering the welfare of others. Not putting himself first seemed like the shortest path to failure. Killing people in the streets who had not offended him would draw too much attention, especially when the task could be accomplished just as easily with animals.
Carl the blacksmith watched Daebian depart the sparring field and head toward the gates to go run around in the woods as he often did. The boy was a natural with the blade; it was about the only thing natural about him. He had spent the past several months memorizing the moves and routines of the major players on this gigantic chessboard. The mundane days of playing the blacksmith were nearly at an end. Finally, the king was soon to depart the field. That would be when the Rook made his move, taking first the prince, followed by the queen, and when the king finally reached the apex of his grief and failure…checkmate.
“Carl!” Ken shouted at the man’s back. “We have too much work in here for you to be taking extended breaks.”
The Rook turned toward the source of the castigation. “Yes, sir.”
The Rook looked back for a moment and found himself locking eyes with Daebian. The boy stood near a postern gate staring right at him. Daebian smiled, waved, and exited through the gate. The Rook stood a moment, dumbfounded. Could the boy know what he was, what he intended? No, that was impossible. He had probably just spotted him watching the sparring matches as he often did and waved to a familiar face.
“Carl, let’s go!”
It was a good thing this charade would soon be at an end. If he had to take orders from Ken much longer, he might let slip his character and feed the man’s body to one of his forges. After consuming his soul, of course.
Daebian jogged across the open field and into the forest. He had several traps and snares set within the woods. The live animals he caught he fed to Klaraxis to shut him up for a time. The first trap was not far into the training field and was set along a rabbit trail running from the field into the forest. Something had tripped the spring snare, but no animal was present.
He followed the path another quarter mile into the forest and located his second trap. It too was sprung but empty. When his third snare showed the same results, he began searching the area and found what he expected, a large wolf print. Wolf never left a sign of his presence unless he wanted to, but Ghost was not as concerned apparently. Wolf was obviously aware of his predation and was not pleased with it. Daebian could care less what the wildling thought. Everything needed to eat, including demons.
Daebian had set some new snares farther from his usual hunting grounds the last time he came out. With any luck, Wolf had not found those yet. It added an hour to his circuit, but his investment paid off when he found the rabbit struggling against the cord cinched tight around its rear leg. He grabbed a fistful of fur and skin behind the rabbit’s shoulders and neck. The unfortunate creature made an awful keening as Daebian slid his blade beneath the animal’s skin without touching any of the vital organs. Klaraxis grudgingly accepted his tribute and drank in the rabbit’s life essence. Klaraxis whispered a warning through the gem.
“You know, it’s rude to spy on people,” Daebian said without looking up.
Wolf and Ghost separated from the shadows of the dense shrubbery. “It is more detestable to needlessly torture an animal. If you think yourself a hunter, then have the decency to kill it swiftly and eat it.”
Daebian threw the carcass at Wolf’s feet. “You eat it if you are so concerned about it. I eat from a plate prepared by cooks like a civilized being.”
Ghost stepped back from the rabbit and growled. Wolf gripped his bow tighter and fought back his mounting anger. “You are far from civilized. There is something very wrong with you.”
Daebian shrugged. “I prefer to think there is something wrong with everyone else.”
“You’re insane.”
“Probably, but can you blame me? My father is a demon and the gods know what my little brother is. They both think some ancient gods are coming to wipe us all out, including your precious rabbits probably, and spend all their time turning my home into a huge military camp where they indoctrinate everyone into training so fiercely they practically kill themselves. Hell, some have already died, and you’re worried about a few rabbits and squirrels.”
“Stay out of my woods,” Wolf warned.
“Your woods? My father owns all of this. He might entertain your insistence on squatter’s rights, but I do not. I will go where I wish and do what I please. Now, unless you truly want to try and stop me,” Daebian said as he shifted his grip on his dagger, “I have more traps to check.”
“I won’t let you keep torturing these animals!”
“Then go tell my father on me and see if he cares any more than I do. He probably will, but don’t expect him to take the time from his busy schedule to actually do anything about it. He has too many other concerns to worry about what his son is doing to a few vermin out in the forest.”
Daebian turned his back on Wolf but used Klaraxis’ presence to keep a wary eye on him. He doubted the half-elf would attack him, but he was not foolish enough to leave himself unguarded to anyone. Daebian was many things, but foolish was not one of them.
You should kill them. The animal in particular has a powerful spirit and will satiate me for a long while. Far better than the rodents you feed me.
“I told you before; I kill only when doing so furthers my own goals. Wolf and his dog play no part in those goals, at least not yet. Should they begin to interfere beyond being inconvenient to you, then I will revisit my options.”
Wolf and Ghost shadowed him through the forest as he went in search of his other trap. Daebian wondered if he could use Klaraxis’ power to lose his spy, but he doubted it. The two forest dwellers were acutely aware of just about everything in these woods. Let him enjoy his pathetic voyeurism. It would not deter him from doing what he needed to do.
The thrashing of wings and the noisy cawing of a crow alerted Daebian to another successful trapping. He pushed through the thick foliage and found a large crow beating at the brush with its free wing and noisily vocalizing i
ts displeasure. It looked at Daebian with those intelligent black eyes that were so much like his own. It ceased its squawking and thrashing and studied the human with more curiosity than fear.
“Hello there,” Daebian called out to the crow as he approached. “You are not what I was looking for.”
He bent down and saw that the crow’s wing had been damaged by the snare. The bird squawked a loud accusation for its plight and demanded to be freed. Daebian slipped a finger beneath the wire noose and worked enough slack in it to slide it over the bird’s wing.
“There we go. We’ll have to splint that wing, but I’m sure you will be right as rain soon enough.”
“You slaughter rabbits and other animals without remorse,” Wolf said from the cover of the brush. “Why is the crow’s life more valuable to you than that of the other animals?”
“Because I find myself fond of the crow. I could not care one whit about the other animals. Their deaths served my purpose. The crow shall serve another purpose.”
“I cannot understand what purpose the sadistic slaughter of those animals could serve.”
“Of course you can’t. No one understands. It is beyond the limit of their feeble minds, their inability to see beyond their reach. They will understand one day, and they will all regret their shortsightedness.”
“You really are insane.”
“You are redundant, and I find redundancy tedious.” Daebian looked at the crow sitting quietly in his hands. “I shall call you Gloom. Let me take you to your new home and patch up that wing of yours.”
***
“Have you seen Daebian with that bird of his?” Miranda asked while she and Azerick ate their breakfast together.
“I have. I think it is good he found something to care for. Perhaps it will help him build a little more empathy for others.”
The Sorcerer's Return (The Sorcerer's Path) Page 26
