The Bearer of Secrets (Dark Legacy)

by Kyle Belote

  “You seem familiar to me,” the young man spoke up before he could stop himself, “but I don’t recall you off the top of my head. And I haven’t been in school for at least a half-score of years.”

  “A half-score of years?” Judas smiled a gentle, patronizing grin, more to himself than at Sam. Even his tone carried a mild edge of mockery. “I should seem familiar to you,” he tutted. “The Transference of Essence works on a different thread of physics. If I were to do the Transfer to this very old volume, full of knowledge and history, we would lose it forever. This volume is bound by different laws of magic than those governing the Transference. In short, I would destroy it trying to implement it. Now, would you still like me to try?”

  Sam shook his head, dumbfounded.

  “The thought of the Essence of Transference is an intriguing one, I must admit.” The older man tapped his finger on the table absentmindedly, his eyes going to the mahogany.

  “How so?”

  The blue eyes slid back to the librarian. “The applications for Transference are near-limitless. It could revolutionize the way we learn, for example. In theory, you could transfer the contents of a book to your mind, learning everything within in a matter of minutes. While this would be excessive but necessary for education and matters of law, it would not hone someone’s skill with a sword. The only way to learn to fight is to practice, like the Krey in Outpost Dire. They train day in and day out no matter the weather, politics, or season. There are also limitations to it, such as the old volume.” Judas patted the tome affectionately.

  Sam was silent for a few heartbeats before rising from his seat. “Would you like some more ink?”

  “Thank you, but not necessary. They are coming for me.” Judas began to collect his things.

  A flutter of magic ushered Judas out of the recollection, his hand reaching for his wand. He pulled his essence around him, shrouding himself, dampening his presence. Whoever came into the library wouldn’t know what hit them until too late.

  A delicate whistling sound filtered through, accompanied by faint chimes. Judas paused, making certain what he heard before lowering his wand. He hurried down the aisle and turned the corner, coming face to face with an effulgent ball of light.

  A smile came to his face. “Fiosana! What brings an Elder fairy here?”

  The fairy returned his smile. “Warlock Lakayre. I came to see her, the mage you brought back.”

  Suspicion lanced through him. What did she say? “How did you find out about her arrival?”

  Fiosana gave him an admonishing look. “Don’t be coy, young Judas. We fairies have our ways. It’s not a secret.”

  The word secret triggered his memories, his master coming back to the forefront of his mind.

  “This book is for the Bearer of Secrets only, okay?” the gnomling instructed. The language of the Wizards, Myshku, foreign to his tongue, and he only spoke with questions or cutting and crass statements. Politeness and rules of etiquette remained a lost mystery to him. On occasion, he would use the wrong type of word when speaking. A smile came to Judas’ face as he recalled his last and greatest master. “You shall never glimpse the pages, but can you understand the Bearer of Secrets is not a foe? You are entrusted with a special task—my greatest pupil—will you search out the Bearer for the rest of your life? You will do this! My faith is placed correctly, yes?”

  “Yes, Master,” Judas’s young voice sounded hollow in the reflection, but he endured his promise to the gnomling.

  That had been the last time Judas ever saw his teacher, three Ages ago, over three thousand years in the past.

  I need to get his book before I set out with the girl. But it’s at home. Damn!

  The fairy’s words quickly guided him back to the moment at hand.

  “I have come to witness her, and you wouldn’t let her out of your sight. Where is she?”

  Judas warred with himself, between being polite and complying or standing his ground, expecting more. He decided to stand. “What do you want with her?”

  “That is my business.”

  “Mine as well. I brought her back, I am responsible for her well-being.”

  “Do you think I would harm an innocent child? She is defenseless.”

  “Child? She’s well over the Age of Maturity. She has me to protect her.”

  The fairy paused, her head tilting to the side. “You are acquainted as to why I am here, aren’t you?”

  Judas snorted in derision. “The fairy Prophecy? Prophecies aren’t real. Superstitious words by addled minds of wise men and women from long ago.”

  “To you, perhaps. While I agree with your sentiments, this particular one is ours. Do you know the words?”

  Judas shook his head. “It wouldn’t matter, even if I did.”

  “Would it not? How old do you think our prophecy is?”

  “Very.”

  “It came to pass because of you, Judas Lakayre.” The words gave him pause, his eyes widened, waiting. “Do you not know? Your lack of awareness only further proves the truth. The first line of the prophecy dictated your actions Legends before your birth.” She chuckled at him, serene. “‘Beyond the pall that rend the Realms, one of balance shall supervene.’ Don’t you understand? We predicted the separation of the Realms.”

  Judas gestured over his shoulder, towards the unconscious girl beyond their line of sight. “She is not the first to cross over, to come back!”

  Fiosana smiled, nodding. “You are correct, but she will be the first one to live. I shall make sure.”

  A dark glimmer crossed the warlock’s face. “You mean you had the ability to save all the other Wcics that came back, and you did nothing?”

  The fairy fluttered closer. “No, just this one. I sensed her all the way from here. Her arrival called to me.”

  Judas’ initial suspicion of her arrival flared to life again. “Called to you? Did you tell anyone you were coming here? Anyone else know?”

  “Other than you?” she shrugged.

  “How do you propose to save her?”

  “A way that only fairies can,” Fiosana reminded him. “Let me gaze upon her, please.”

  Judas sighed and stepped to the side, allowing her to float past him. He followed in her wake, less than three paces. The fairy landed on the floor, the light fading enough for Judas to glimpse her wings, crystalline with faint, gilded veins running throughout. Head to foot, she managed to reach nine inches tall. Tentatively, Fiosana reached out, a hand touching the girl’s forehead.

  “What is her name?” she inquired, an almost-whisper.

  “Julie.”

  She smiled. “A peculiar name.”

  “She could say the same of us.”

  “She would if she remembered.” The fairy directed her gaze up to Judas before surveying the room. “All this knowledge, wasted until someone comes searching. A shame.”

  Judas’ eyes narrowed, but he took in the room. “What?” he puzzled.

  “You are a clever man, even if you are a warlock,” she smiled. “She will be like the rest, without awareness of the past. You will be lucky if she can even talk. Use the Essence of Transference to her mind.”

  Judas’ face fell. He sputtered. “There are things in here she shouldn’t be acquainted with, not yet.”

  “I agree, you must be selective in what you give to her.”

  “It could damage her.”

  “And yet she would die without my intervention,” she reminded him, her tone tart.

  “It’s a gamble.”

  “A gamble you started when you brought her here,” Fiosana reminded him.

  “That—,” he started, but fell silent.

  “—is entirely accurate,” she finished. Her eyes came to rest on his and she spoke measured words. “She will fulfill the prophecy. Use the Essence of Transference but keep out certain aspects, volumes of knowledge. Remove anything about magic, the Wizard’s War. Let her learn from you, protect her, and present all things in an unbiased manner. You
’re good at that. There will be a time when we come to her. She will be bonded to us.”

  “Bonded?” His brows rose, a flicker of uncertainty on his face.

  “Yes, through me. My wing.”

  Judas understood what she meant. “No, you can’t! You’ll die.”

  She held up a hand, stopping him. “Some chose to forget, others turned their backs, but a few of us still believe. It is my honor to do this for her and is my dying wish. If she is not the one, another will rise to take my place. Use my wing in the core of her wand, the bond will serve for all time. Keep my other wing safe, my people will return for it so I can be one of them again.”

  Judas lips parted to speak but the fairy flared, fulgid, her head tilting to the sky, eyes closed. Serenity settled over her face, the last image Judas glimpsed before the light extinguished. Fiosana’s two wings fell to the floor, spinning as if caught in an unseen current.

  Judas sighed and closed his eyes. Kneeling, he plucked the delicate wings from the floor. His gaze focused on the small, crystalline objects while his mind replayed the last few moments. The Elder fairy bonded to the girl, and now she would have to accept her gift. But the fairy did impart wisdom to him before she faded from existence. He set to the task she left for him, attempting the Transference of Essence to a living person. To his knowledge, no one had tried before. Judas held reservations regarding the daunting task and the moral dilemma. He had an inkling of what Meristal would say when she found out: His actions rash and reckless, a trait he left behind in his youth.

  Desperate times and all that…. He needed answers. The bitterness between Judas and Daylynn notwithstanding, she witnessed their attack firsthand, and he hoped it would be enough for her to cast aside their differences. Hopefully, she would listen to reason and sway the council to help.

  What in the Shades of the Underworld is keeping her? He should have heard something by now.

  He cast the thoughts aside and pulled his wand out. Commanding his essence, he started the Transference.

  ***

  Chapter 2 : Daylynn

  Her breath came in ragged gasps as sweat gleamed over her body and smeared the polished mahogany. Her robes lay on the floor, her back against the desktop as she bit her lower lip while Kayis pleased her. Her long legs wrapped around him as moans escaped her soft, parted lips. This part of the castle was vacant, the last of the workers had gone home hours before with night beginning to fall in earnest. Kayis waited for Daylynn when she came back through the Mirror.

  She came back to give her report in person, as she always did with her assignments, and this time was no different. The first dozen times she gave her report, her lust could take the blame for her promiscuous nature. Daylynn never kept away from men with power, an arousal for her. Later, she realized she was the Consul’s personal whore. Two problems arose: one; she received no pay for her services and two, she liked sex. Kayis’ attractiveness played a factor, but she entertained far better-looking men in the past as their peculiar and delicate toy. To her, sex was not sacred, but a tool, as well as entertainment, always enjoyed. Her view immensely promiscuous and un-Rallocan, the way the world was meant to be.

  Kayis’ skills aside, she relished the gratification of climaxing on the desk of the most powerful person in Ralloc—if not in magical power, but in titles—and she only let him take her there. He tried to maneuver her to the private bed or a chair, but she preferred the desk.

  He used her, and she used him, too. The way of politics. Daylynn never passed up an opportunity for pleasure.

  “So, what else happened?” Kayis asked, his breath ragged between thrusts.

  “He brought her back,” she confessed, a moan escaped her.

  “What?” He stopped.

  “He brought her back with us,” she clarified. A frown flickered across her face, wanting him to continue.

  “What the damnable hell is he thinking?” He pulled away from Daylynn. She hid her displeasure and sat up.

  “Who cares. You can tell him to send her back. And if he refuses…”

  “I can kill him on grounds of disobeying the leaders of the Realm.” Kayis sneered. Daylynn witnessed a smile spread across his face, a smile saying the warlock’s actions worked out in Kayis’ favor far better than he hoped.

  “He’ll be back soon. You’ll need to recall the Council.” Eyes tracked down to his manhood and the distance between them. She leaned forward and kissed him. “You want to finish?”

  “Yes, but I want to try the Forgotten Islander’s way. Who knows? I might enjoy it,” he said. His hands touched her hips, turning her around. Daylynn suppressed a sigh and lowered her chest to the desk.

  ***

  Chapter 3 : The Kothlere Council

  “So good of you to join us,” Poplu whispered into the Consul’s ear. Dathyr shut the door behind him, a hallway connecting the Council Chambers to his personal office. Tapestries of the Houses lined the walls, their rods made of precious metals and gems. The Dathyr tapestry adorned the wall beside the door he exited. The fine cloth kicked up at his sudden arrival. His hands fidgeted, fixing his sash that kept his outer robes closed. “I take it the briefing was good?” A sly smile spread wide on Poplu’s face.

  Kayis regarded him, his brow frowning, lips tightening. “How long have you known?”

  “Please,” Poplu admonished him. “The only woman on the Council, gorgeous, ambitious.” He shrugged. “Pity it isn’t me.”

  “How many others know?”

  Vamor snorted. “Everyone.”

  Poplu moved away and took his customary seat. The Consul regarded the retreating figure for a few moments before following. Normally, he’d be resentful towards the Poplu, but he found a staunch supporter in Vamor. The House of Dathyr and Poplu allied in regards the exiled warlock. Kayis, Poplu, and his other supporter on the Council, Capraro, were enough to overturn the Council on most decisions, but even the three of them didn’t have enough sway to kill him outright. Others were at play, and Daylynn was never a sure vote, but a swing. He hoped, after her report, enough of the Council would realize the need to hunt down Judas Lakayre and end him.

  Kayis eased into the chamber, now conscious everyone knew what transpired behind closed doors a few moments earlier. The charade Daylynn and he played, arriving separate and through different doors was asinine. Crimson reached his cheeks before he smothered the embarrassment. He took his seat at the center of the panel, flanked by the races, both male and female. No elyfian graced their presence, the reclusive race withdrawing from wizardkind’s world of political machinations. The elyves viewed wizardkind as a pretentious and barbarous society.

  The double doors at the top of the chambers opened, and Daylynn wandered through, her clothes still ripped and tattered, a testament to the battle that transpired less than an hour ago. She walked down deep phthalo-blue carpets gracing the aisle between observation benches made of cypress with a gloss-black finish. Stunning curtains of a gossamer material decorated the windows while scenic tapestries hung between the windows. Black walnut paneling formed the ceiling above in the shape of a shallow cone. Diamonds studded the public benches and aligned with the tile on the floor below the Council’s dais. A silver ceremonial gong imbued with enchantments sat on the Council’s podium, its matching hammer with a ruby head nearby. Lanterns and candle sconces of silver lined the walls. If the treasury went bankrupt, the government could sell everything in this room and still keep the Domain running for another few years, perhaps half a score, and if frugal enough, a score even.

  Her movements stiff, halting as if aware everyone scrutinized her. She climbed on the dais where the Council table sat and stood behind her seat.

  Once everyone settled, Kayis rang the gong. The sound carried and echoed, the chambers devoid of all attendants, scribes, and aides, which would normally help mute the noise. Tonight’s late meeting was closed to the public due to the nature of their business and the haste in which assembled. Kayis spoke. “This session is called
to order. Forgive the late hour but Madam Reese just returned from the Other Side. Given her preliminary report, I thought it warranted a special session. Madam Reese? Your report please.”

  Daylynn cleared her throat, her hands smoothing her garments. “Earlier this morning, we requested Warlock Lakayre’s help regarding the Mirror of Imation. Once through the gateway, we followed the source of otherworldly presence. It was not, however, the Kothlus Trilogy as we originally speculated. Well, it was, but there were two sources.”

  “The Kothlus Trilogy?” Kayis interrupted. “I don’t remember that being part of this morning’s meeting.”

  “That’s because you stormed out of here in one of your tantrums,” said Kellis, one of two goblins on the Council. Kayis shot him a withering glance but said nothing.

  “How did you know it was the Kothlus Trilogy?” Capraro inquired.

  “All magical objects created carry the essence of their maker. Judas Lakayre made the Kothlus Trilogy, so he can sense when it is near. The befoulment trapped inside the text also gives off a unique signature. Both were suffered immediately upon arrival.”

  “But that’s what he said, right? He says he sensed the books. He could be lying!” Poplu broke in.

  Daylynn nodded. “True, except I felt it, too.”

  “What do you mean you felt it, too?” Sedrus queried. Sedrus, the only centaur on the Council, and neutral, if not touch reserved and xenophobic.

  “The power was strong, vile, and clung to my insides, making me nauseous.”

  “How sure are you of what you sensed?” Kayis asked.

  Daylynn’s eyes narrowed. “I am attentive to what I perceived, an evilness.”

  “Warlock Lakayre created the Kothlus Trilogy, right? If what you are saying is true, the malevolence you sensed was part of him.”

  Poplu, sensing the direction the Consul headed, added, “Are you sure Warlock Lakayre didn’t influence you by using his magic on you?”

  “Warlock Lakayre is a self-righteous ass, but that doesn’t make him evil.”