Storm of Prophecy: Book 1, Dark Awakening

by Von Werner, Michael

  “Watch your tone!” Magnus scolded irately.

  “That is their cause,” Vincent stated plainly. “They believe that their god, Kargoth, has finally risen and that they serve his will. There is no way to know yet if they are merely mad, delusional, or if there really is someone posing as The Lord of Death.”

  Treyfon’s pointy ancient eyes continued to fix themselves on Vincent. “You believe then that their backing is immaterial?”

  “I would like to since that would make them nothing more than an isolated group of deranged lunatics that we need only find and destroy, but I have to consider the other possibility. And based on this deviation from their usual cautious and secretive behavior”-he glanced at Stacy-“as well as the…curious astrological alignment that my friend has shown me…well, I just hope that I’m wrong.” Master Anthony looked on with only a hint of disapproval, much less than when Vincent had first told the masters what she had shown them.

  Grandmaster Treyfon slowly and unexpectedly leaned forward and buried his face in his right hand. “Kargoth is the fabled bringer of the dead. His insatiable hunger to devour all life is the reason the other gods turned against him in the first place.” The other masters looked his way but said nothing.

  A moment passed. “Perhaps we shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” Master Anthony put in stoically. “The timing of events does not always match up correctly with the stars.” The dean of atmomancy then glanced over at Stacy. Vincent had no way to know if this was right.

  Treyfon kept his face in his hand, muttering at a level meant only for Anthony to hear or perhaps just himself. “‘The death plague has seven arms,’” he quoted. “‘They will strike when the storm covers the eye.’” Master Anthony looked his way once but remained quiet.

  “Sir?”

  “Please go on,” he replied without looking up.

  Vincent continued, telling them the rest of the conversation before they were attacked. He told them about the liquid inside the cauldron which Clyde claimed not to be the source of the undeath spell, and they were in agreement that it was probably something else. Treyfon also commented on how the vial of plant extract stolen that night couldn’t be used for anything related to undeath. In addition to this, they claimed that every source known to them made no indication that necromancy required any potions. No one could tell Vincent what the liquid inside was and voiced that it could be just about anything else.

  He recounted the battle, as much of it as he could remember, his memory not perfect due to the quick pace of events during the heat of combat. As he told the tale, something happened that Vincent did not foresee. A few of the masters raised eyebrows at what he recalled and were silently impressed by his valor and efficiency. Master Magnus was not. Apparently they had a much lower estimation of what Vincent was capable of than he thought they did and were therefore surprised.

  When he got to the part when the cult unleashed the black wyvern, the master pyromancer was not only unimpressed but was becoming increasingly incredulous. “No one can control that flame on a whim; it contains a power from the world beyond. And reconciling it with our own is not something I have deemed necessary to teach my students, since it is so rare.”

  Rick put a fist over his mouth and coughed, clearing his throat before speaking up. He treaded cautiously. “Yes, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that,” he started. “I didn’t like the feel of that green flame coming from its mouth. It felt tainted somehow. Wrong. I had a hard time controlling it.”

  “That’s because part of its essence doesn’t belong in our plane of existence,” Magnus explained. “Its fire was mixed with that from the underworld. And you’ve had plenty of chances before now to ask me about it, why didn’t you?”

  “Because I didn’t think that you would believe me.”

  “Well at least you’ve gotten one thing right.”

  Vincent was bothered by this and spoke up in his defense. “If I had to, I would stake my life on him being able to do it again.”

  Magnus regarded him with a sneer, unconvinced by his remark. “I don’t think you had to do it the first time.” He then sat back and mocked him. “But please, don’t let me stop you. Go on. I like listening to fanciful stories.”

  Vincent began to lose his temper. “We’re telling you the truth!”

  Treyfon interposed himself before Magnus could say more, striking the metal ball on its plate several times with a deep, thick clank while holding up his hand. When the other two were silent, he asked Vincent to continue, and he did. At the part when he had sealed Stacy’s wounds shut with his heated knife, he heard her whisper a ‘thank you’ at his side. He glanced her way once to acknowledge it and kept speaking. It didn’t take long after he began to tell them about the madness he had endured in getting her out of there before Master Magnus once again started raising objections.

  “Wait a minute. You mean to say that you fought against a black wyvern, a creature thirty times your size, by yourself, with only a sword, and lived to tell about it?”

  “Well, master, like I was about to say I was not alone. My cousin Karl aided me in the fight…”

  “I thought you said you had become separated.”

  Magnus was probing for any inconsistencies that might reveal lies, but Vincent had nothing to hide. “It was right at that point when he managed to rejoin Stacy and I, aiding me in combat.”

  “How lucky for you,” Magnus remarked doubtfully, “go on.”

  Vincent sighed in annoyance and then continued to tell the tale of his frightening battle with the wyvern that nearly resulted in his death and how with his cousin’s help he was able to at last injure the beast enough to drive it away. After that, there wasn’t much left, only how Karl helped cauterize his wounds with the heated knife that he handed to him and how the three of them limped back to the keep.

  The masters were nothing if not thorough. In the same meticulous manner as on the other occasion that Vincent had come to stand before them, they had Karl go through everything that he experienced that night. They wanted to gather anything and everything that could be gleaned from hearing his perspective, considering no detail unimportant. As Karl progressed through a story that Vincent had more or less already told, he echoed points of contention in Vincent’s account that the masters had been trying to find slip-ups in. His cousin verified what had happened with the wyvern, deviating only during the period of time when they were not together.

  Rick told a similar story when it was his turn, though with little concerning the wyvern after he steered away the flames and they all made their escape. Much of what he remembered after that point was being tirelessly hunted by zombies until finally losing them and then becoming lost himself in the forest. Stacy’s account was even shorter since she was unconscious for much of the time when they were fleeing the wyvern, yet she confirmed nearly everything else.

  Occasionally Vincent caught some of the masters whispering to each other while staring at him. At first he thought they were speaking of things that incriminated him or were passing judgments between themselves, but it looked less harsh than that, as if they were seeing him in some new light. Perhaps it was something about having all three of his friends speak of his fighting prowess and integral part of their joint strategy to stay alive that was giving them something to think about. The decapitated corpses and the arrangement of bodies that the search team would have reported to them certainly would have verified his friends’ claims. It also would have been easy to discern those that Vincent had slain from theirs.

  After Stacy had finished giving her testimony, looking almost ready to faint, Treyfon once again turned his attention to Vincent. “What else can you tell us about this cult that you haven’t already? If the four of you are to have any hope of being forgiven for your offense, you must disclose all that you have learned, no matter how insignificant it might seem.”

  Vincent’s mind grabbed at anything it could find. “Well, this is probably already a moot point…”


  “Voice it anyway,” Treyfon insisted.

  “I believe that the cult is in fact responsible for all the deaths and disappearances that I was looking into. Many of the corpses attacking us bore a resemblance to some of the missing persons I sought.”

  “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

  “I know, but their sheer numbers do. I’m sure that once all the bodies are identified, if they can be, you’ll see that I’m right.”

  The gruff voice of Master Gautrek, who normally kept silent, joined in. “But what of all the missing children on that list?” The green-robed Dwarf asked. “From your own recollection, you were swarmed mainly by deceased adults.”

  “I think that their wyvern is the answer to that,” Vincent replied sadly. “They used children for their Seal of Cheated Light and probably fed what was left to it. The crumpled up bone remains might be the result of…”

  Magnus, who sat leaning the side of his head on his hand with the same elbow resting on the table cut him off rudely, his tone quick and impatient. “Yes, yes, we are all aware of how wyverns consume their prey whole, digest them, and then without having any further use of the bones, regurgitate the pellets to excrete them orally. Get on with it.”

  Vincent silently glared in his direction, thinking to himself that if Master Magnus were so knowledgeable, maybe he should have done something about it. He then returned his gaze to Treyfon and did as told. “I don’t know if the Kargoth they fight for is a man, truly a god, or just an idea, but if there is one congregation of his followers, there might be more.”

  “Of the ones that you battled, how many do you think are left?” The ancient Elf asked next.

  Though Vincent thought it a very pertinent question, he had trouble coming up with an answer. He took a deep breath and scratched his head while letting it out. “The villagers and other victims who were slain and resurrected as zombies were plentiful enough…I didn’t get a precise count. As for the ones wearing black hoods and robes, I wasn’t really in a position to…” Stacy murmured something at his side but he didn’t hear it because it was too quiet.

  Treyfon leaned forward, his eyes fixed on her. “I’m sorry, what?”

  Everyone was quiet and listened to her intently, and there was no doubt that the black eyes of the rune-covered, savage-looking summoner were gazing upon her even though this was not readily visible. Her voice when it came was soft, and she took slow breaths while she took her time with it, looking too weakened to do more. “…it was dark and there were quite a few in the surrounding trees…I would guess that they still had over half their number when they retreated…They could have killed us…I’m sure of it…They just didn’t want to risk any more of their flock to do it…They weren’t willing to accept the losses.”

  “Makes sense,” Master Clemens commented from Anthony’s right.

  A great deal of time had been spent reviewing all the information the four of them provided, and the council had asked so many questions that Treyfon accidentally repeated one already asked. “And what do you make of the green flame they used against you?” Out of respect, or fear, none of them were eager to voice right away that it was redundant.

  Karl stood waiting with his green-sleeved arms folded, looking off to the side disinterestedly, and became irreverent. “Maybe you should ask Master Magnus to add it to the curriculum.”

  Magnus’ face turned red and he leaned forward, looking as though he would have strangled Karl if the large table and the distance hadn’t been between them. “You insolent little whelp!”

  Treyfon put a hand on his shoulder to ease him back. “Oh yes, I can see that we have already covered that.” He looked to the row of his colleagues on one side and then on the other. “Unless someone has any other questions left, I think it is time we proceeded with the next stage of this inquiry.”

  He waited. None of the masters on either side of him voiced anything. “Very well then, we shall move on to the disciplinary actions.” He unfurled the scroll once again. “Of the first charge, you are all guilty. There can be no doubt of this. You did withhold vital information from us. However, we have no reason to believe that it was done as a malicious and deliberate act of betrayal, and since you were all forthcoming today, your sentences for this charge will be reduced. Stacy Clark, Karl Faren, and Erick Miller, as punishment, the three of you will perform menial duties as decided by each of your department heads for no less than one week.” If not for his worry over his own worse fate, Vincent would have felt more sorry for Rick than he did since he knew who was going to be deciding his tasks. “Vincent Faren, since you face three additional charges, your penalty will be assessed separately.

  “The second charge leveled against you is regarding your extra-jurisdictional activities. We have, by your own admission and from evidence that we have received, reason to believe that you did willfully carry out interrogations and interviews on behalf of Gadrale Keep when not authorized by us to do so in any official capacity. How do you plead?”

  “Guilty,” Vincent answered, his mood sinking while he looked down.

  “Of the third charge, criminal negligence resulting in the death of two junior members of the Academy Guard, how do you plead?”

  Vincent lifted his head and fixed a firm glare on Grandmaster Treyfon and the rest of the council, steeling himself to his defense. “Not guilty,” he answered in a loud clear voice.

  They all seemed shocked by this, but to Vincent it was nothing new. He had already made up his mind about it a long time ago. Silence resounded in the chamber for only a moment even though it felt much longer.

  Grandmaster Treyfon regarded him coolly with his Elfin gaze. “From your own testimony, you did knowingly allow these two young men to travel into danger and unescorted. What do you have to say in your defense?”

  “First of all,” Vincent began, having had plenty of time in his cell to think of what he would say, “that is a specious allegation. The only reason why it exists is because Stanley and Craig were only a few years too young to be considered adults. They were junior members of the Academy Guard. That means they were training for the very purpose of one day defending the keep.” Vincent was becoming especially frustrated with the council and he could feel it being reflected in his voice and shaping his gaze as it passed over them. “It makes no difference, no difference whatsoever that they were two, maybe three years each shy of being considered adults.” His eyes began to glisten when he thought of their sacrifice. “They were guards, and they did what we guards do best: place ourselves and our lives between the enemy and the people we try to protect. If they were too young to be considered combatants, why did you risk their lives by having them guard the vault?” He flicked his eyes at Clemens and noticed other masters doing it too. “They were doing what I myself have already done twice now, and would like to go on doing. Or have you forgotten?”

  Master Magnus guffawed and looked to the side before returning his eyes to Vincent, clearly feeling as though this were a melodramatic act he was putting on. “That’s how you defend yourself?” He then lowered his voice in a drawn out tone used when trying to mimic someone in a way to make them sound stupid. “‘Oh, well if they had been a couple years older…’” He shook his head at Vincent with a look of disgust.

  He was certainly the master of fire, Vincent thought, he had definitely succeeded at setting Vincent’s anger aflame. “I remember well one of Stan’s last words to me before we left. He asked me: ‘sir, as members of the Academy Guard, is it not our first sworn duty to defend the academy from outside threats?’ If I had answered ‘no,’ I wouldn’t be standing here before you today.”

  Magnus’ disdain was unfettered. “How dare you invoke the last words of a foolish boy to try to hide your own crimes. It doesn’t change the fact that they looked up to you, and you failed them in the worst way possible. Your recklessness cost them their lives and caused a lot of damage.”

  With smoldering wrath burning within him, Vincent took in a deep b
reath to keep himself under control. The old pyromancer seemed to always want to get the last word in. For the moment, Vincent ignored what he said and pointed at the rolled up parchment sitting on the table before Grandmaster Treyfon, hoping he could get through to the others. Even though his eyes glistened, his anger remained hot. “I already know what the fourth charge against me is. Next you’re going to accuse me of treason for abandoning my post, and I tell you that I did no such thing! I may have left the vault behind, but I never betrayed my post or my sworn duty!”

  A moment or two passed, and once again Master Magnus had to play the chief advocate in condemning him. His head jostled slightly, accentuating each disapproving utterance. “You just want everything forgiven then, is that it?” He surmised in a fashion meant to be to Vincent’s detriment. “How can we trust someone who goes behind our backs, someone who keeps things from us and takes actions without our approval?”

  A vicious retort immediately sprang forth. “If you had been fulfilling your obligations in the best interests of this keep and the people beyond it, I wouldn’t have had to!”

  Magnus’ anger and his voice seemed to only escalate further. “When you sit behind this table,”-he pointed a finger down toward it to make his point-“then and only then will you get to decide what is in the best interest of this keep and the people beyond it!”

  Grandmaster Treyfon held up a hand once more and with the other slammed the metal ball repeatedly, calling for silence. The chamber remained quiet for at least a full minute while the Elf kept staring at Vincent with an inquisitive yet perhaps incriminating gaze. It was hard to tell which, though it was clear that he was considering what had been said.

  Finally, he spoke. “Vincent Faren, your intentions are not on trial. Your actions are. You are clearly a headstrong individual who does not want to wait for permission while something goes unresolved. This can be a great asset, but it can also become a severe liability. Especially to our purposes here. Currently your ambition excludes care and finesse. You have potential, but you lack discipline.”