I felt a hand on my shoulder and I flinched, my arm raised, the light flowing towards my fist. then I saw her - the girl on fire. She was smiling sadly. The smile broke me and the tears flowed.
She patted my shoulder softly and watched me as I let my emotions break free. My body shook violently as my emotions warred and crashed against me. Sadness, anger, hate, pity, shame. For the longest time, I kneeled there with the girl on fire comforting me as I drowned.
I didn't know how much time had passed. I heard footsteps. I heard a voice.
"Thomas... come. The battle is won, we must report to Horal." a female voice. I looked over my shoulder. The last of the El-Assum. I recognised her instantly. Aubrey Hatherthorn. My first girlfriend. The first girl I had ever loved. We had dated for over a year before she broke my heart. I nodded and stood. I turned to the girl on fire, a smile playing at the corner of my lips. She smiled back. I noticed she was shaking, I could see the sadness in her eyes. It has been a terrible night for all of us.
We made our way through the sanctuary. The bodies were all gone now. The dead taken to the morgue and the wounded to the medical wing. We passed people in the corridors. Shook and terrified. The evidence of battle etched into their faces, their new scars, missing limbs, the tears in their eyes. I saw friends, loved ones, I saw people I didn't know, people I disliked. We had all suffered as one. I remembered the faces of those that had been lost, smiles that I would never see again, laughs I would never hear, lives that were ended too soon.
We reached the council room. We were the last to arrive. Everyone was seated, Horal stood at the end of the table. I had seen Horal occasionally throughout my studies, a tall man, broad shouldered, bald head, a cloak of magnificent gold, thin lips and a stony expression. The students feared him and admired him in equal measure.
He stood now, that same stony expression - but slightly different. His eyes were sad. His face pale. A tiredness I had never seen on his face before.
The room went silent, everyone staring at me. They could see the light surrounding me, and perhaps the fire on the girl. I thought. The stares made me nervous. I looked down at my feet as I shuffled past, I could feel the eyes burning into me, following me.
"What's your name son?" the deep voice belonged to Horal.
"Thomas, General" I replied shakily. My voice cracking. He nodded.
"Welcome Thomas, please, take a seat. Aubrey, we need a report from the event hall." I nodded, choosing two empty seats towards the corner of the room, the girl on fire beside me. Aubrey went to the empty seat next to Horal, crashing into it. Breathing heavily, she nodded.
"There were eighteen of us and we faced fourty two traitors. We fought for the longest time. But we were losing, and we knew it. We were communicating mentally as we fought, co-ordinating strikes against them. We made an agreement, when we felt an unavoidable attack coming at us, we would expel all of the light we had stored and take as many of the traitors with us. And it worked, for a time. We killed more of them than them us." her voice broke her, no doubt remembering as her friends and her comrades fell around her. She steadied herself, "it was bad General. We were dying. And then it was just me and Pater left. We threw up a heat shield and hoped for a miracle. We poured every ounce of light we could muster into the shield, but it shattered. Pater was killed. The shield had taken it out of me, I had no fight left. I remember falling to my knees." she stopped, looking at me. Her eyes wide. Did she fear me too?
"The battle was lost, sir," she continued, her eyes returning to Horal, "and then he came, Thomas." she nodded towards me, all eyes were on me again, taking in my expression, my stature. I looked up, meeting their eyes.
"He was shrouded in light; his eyes were shining. I felt them throw a fireball at me. I saw it coming at me. I couldn't shield or dodge. And then... " her voice abandoning her again. She swallowed, "and then he pointed at the fireball. He just pointed. And it was gone."
Shocked gasps, shuffling feet and again all eyes were on me. Shock and disbelief.
"Preposterous! Castings cannot be undone. Our scholars have spent thousands of years exploring this!" a high pitched male voice, it came from Scholar Donal. A thin, lanky man with a permanent snarl and wispy white hair.
"Enough. Aubrey, please continue." Horal again, throwing a dirty look at Donal and nodding at Aubrey.
"The fireball was gone. He turned on the traitors then. Storming towards them. They were attacking him with dragons’ breath and fireballs. Some of them hit him. Most of them disappearing. and then I noticed something. Two of the traitors were trying to cast, I could hear their chants, I could see their light. But it refused to obey. General, he had taken control of their light."
More gasps, Donal slammed his fist into the table. "Enough! Enough of this fantasy. None of this is possible. It's ludicrous."
"SILENCE!" the room shook, I could feel the power Horal had infused into his words. "We will let her finish with no more interruptions. Donal if you speak again before she is finished, I will have you removed."
"The rest was a blur. I remember parts. He moved so fast. He was fighting with a huge two handed swords. The sword was made of light. His aura of light grew tentacles and attacked. His aura turned to flame. The battle was quick. He killed the traitors. All of them. Alone."
"Thank you, Aubrey." Horal, his gaze turning upon me, "Thomas. I know you've been through a lot, can you confirm Aubrey's report? Is that how you remember it?".
All eyes were on me again. Aubrey's report had brought flesh flashbacks of the battle. The smell still in my nose. "Yes, General." I replied, nodding.
"Very well. Is everyone here familiar with the prophecy?" nods and murmurs, more gasps. I shook my head.
"No, sir." shaking my head at Horal.
"Okay Thomas. Fifteen hundred years ago, at this very sanctuary, a woman lived that was born of the dragon. She was the last of the dragon born. Her name was Gandrea and on her deathbed, she had a vision, she called to her aide and asked him to fetch pen and parchment. These words were her last, her aide recorded them and it was written into our history. The Inferno Prophecy."
Ten – The Prophecy
She was nervous, she sat in a room full of sorcerers that she had never met. Just hours before she had no idea that they existed. She was surprised that she had accepted it so well, so quickly. But she remembered things from her past. The fire. Her parents. Talk of sanctuaries. And her dragon, always warm and comforting.
Thomas sat next to her, eyes straight ahead as the other woman had given a report to the council. Sometimes he would look at his feet, his expression changing. She saw fear and sadness more than anything else. The man was scared, confused. Like her.
Now they were talking about a prophecy, fortunately Thomas had not heard of it before and they were going to explain it to him - giving her a chance to hear it.
The large man with the hard expression moved to the back of the room, there was a desk and behind the desk a large wooden cabinet with glass doors. He whispered and guided the light into the cabinet, with a click the doors popped open.
There was one shelf, in the middle of a shelf side by side were two scrolls, the big man, Horal, picked out these scrolls and returned to the table. He placed the scrolls down and looked over at Thomas.
"One scroll is the original, wrote down by Gandrea's aide, the prophecy as she saw it in her vision. The second scroll is the work of El-Assum scholars, they have spent generations studying the prophecy and based on their knowledge of the magi and the light they have made notes on what they believe certain parts of the prophecy means. Each of their studies was rigorous and underwent long hours of debate before being added. I will begin with the prophecy." Horal picked up the old scroll, the first thing she noticed about the scroll was the rip. The scroll was torn at the bottom.
"Cities will burn and nations will fall, darkness will reign and the light will turn to fire. The candle of war is burning, the sanctuaries are under siege. A scholar of war will bring the lig
ht, a dragon without the knowledge will bring the flame. The darkest void will consume light and flame alike, at the entrance to the beginning a battle will be won or lost and the fate of the world will be decided. A love that is fated by the gods will force a choice. That choice will save the light or burn the world."
Thomas was pale, his hands gripping the arm rests on his chair. His face in deep concentration.
"Now I will read the second scroll." Horal spoke, placing the first scroll down and lifting the second, much newer paper.
"Cities will burn and nations will fall - the obvious conclusion is the war, it will most likely be hardest fought in London close to the Red House of the El-Assum and will wreak havoc on the city.
Darkness will reign and the light will turn to fire - considerably vaguer, we have come to the conclusion that this is talk of the Al-Guul's unspoken God, the darkness that was banished by the light at the beginning, and the return of this darkness. We believe the "light turning to the fire" is talk of the lightbringer and the dragon.
The candle of war is burning, the sanctuaries are under siege - we again believe this is obviously in relation to the war with the Al-Guul, we believe a time will come when they have the strength to wage war on all of the sanctuaries.
A scholar of war will bring the light - we believe this means that a student trained as a scholar with the light well of a warrior class magi will master his ethereal and prove to be the most important piece in the war.
A dragon of no knowledge will bring the flame - we believe this relates to a new dragon born sorcerer or sorceress, raised in the same generation as the light bringer and perhaps with no knowledge of being dragon born.
The darkest void will consume light and flame alike - we have decided the meaning to this line is the rising darkness discussed before, it would appear that the lightbringer, dragon born and the darkness will all rise during the same generation. We are unsure if these are in direct response to each other or not.
At the entrance to the beginning a battle will be won or lost and the fate of the world will be decided - we believe this returns to the war with the Al-Guul, and not a battle with the darkness. We have come to the conclusion, as earlier stated, that this battle will be hardest fought in London with the El-Assum, first sanctuary and the beginning of the magi."
Horal placed the scroll back onto the table, his hands resting either side of the scrolls and his eyes darting around the room, making eye contact with every person present before finally coming to rest on Thomas.
It took her a moment to take all of this in, lightbringer, the darkness - and the dragon.
She held her dragon charm in her hand now, it was heating again, glowing. She could feel its energy spreading through her and she wondered.
"Madness, complete madness. This child is the lightbringer? Preposterous. He falsely claims to be a prophet. He should be detained and his motives questioned." The ugly man that Horal had called Donal, finger pointing at Thomas and his face bright red with anger.
Horal was shaking his head, "Be calm Donal, you will not raise your voice in the council room again."
But Donal was shaking his head right back, his fast slammed into the table again. Spittle flying from his mouth as he screeched at Horal, "You will not tell me what to do Horal! You are General of the warriors, you are not General of the scholars. We are not your pets or your subordinates. We are the knowledge, WE ARE THE POWER HERE. DETAIN HIM."
In a heartbeat everyone was on their feet. Donal facing down Horal as magi all around the table unleashed their light. People fell all around the table. She noticed a pattern quickly, the falling sorcerers wore the same cloaks as the woman from the hall. The warriors. She could see their chests rising and falling and realised they were only unconscious. She breathed a sigh of relief.
In a matter of seconds the fight was over. Five scholars were left standing, including Donal who was still facing down Horal. Horal looked tired, his face was straining, his shield being kept alive with sheer determination.
Donal pointed to Thomas now, "detain him. Take him to the throne room", he nodded to the scholars at the end of the table. They moved towards Thomas. And her.
Eleven – Lightbringer
I couldn't believe what I had just seen. The scholars had attacked the warriors - and won! It was crazy, the scholars were peaceful. They spent their time studying the ethereal, not practicing it, not fighting with it. And they wanted to arrest me. I didn't understand. I saved Aubrey and defeated the traitors, and they wanted to arrest me.
I didn't know how to take the prophecy, was I the lightbringer? If I was, did that make the girl next to me the dragon born? She was coated in flame, a glowing dragon in her hand. And the voice. The clouds of darkness and the rumbling and thundering voice. Was that the darkness? It said it was awake now.
I didn't have time to process any of this, take it in and consider everything. The warriors were unconscious, scattered on the floor around the table. The scholars were moving towards me, commanded to detain me. They approached without caution, completely confident that they were my superior. A student. A scholar student. Against four scholars, scholars who had obviously trained for battle, completely unbelieving of Aubrey's story.
I looked to Horal, he was watching me closely, straining to keep his shield alive as Donal's unrelenting attack continued.
"I reject the scholars, I give myself to you Horal. I have taken the mark of warrior and will obey your commands. Command me to fight the scholars and I will." I vowed. Offering my loyalties to the leader of the warrior magi. A decision I had been contemplating throughout the entire council meeting. A life trained to be a scholar. It was never what I wanted. Never what I dreamed of as a boy.
Horal was still watching me carefully, unsure perhaps. His warriors under attack by scholars, being offered the loyalty of a very powerful young man that had trained to be a scholar. I understood his hesitation. The scholars were closing on me now. The fire girl had her arm on my shoulder, a look of fear on her face.
Horal made his decision. He nodded. "Fight", he commanded. I nodded back and stood. The scholars smiled at me. Arrogant bastards, I thought to myself. They were close, spreading out around me. I began my dive into my well, but realised it was unnecessary.
The light was still covering me, pouring through me. All those years of training, the fight to dive into the well, the task of pulling the light out, shaping it, guiding it - and now it was there, always, ready to be used and willing to obey instantly. But more than that. It helped me. We worked together, guiding each other.
A simple thought and the light was moving, obeying. Instantly it reached out, long smoky tendrils searching for the enemy. And it found them. The light closed in as the scholars began to shape their ethereal. But the fight was already over. Their light refused to obey. I was in control.
A new thought presented itself to me. What if I could shape their light... instead of just asking it to stop, what if I could shape it, make castings using the light of others? a dangerous thought perhaps, uncharted territory. And where could it lead? Could I take their light? Could I take light from other magi and store it in my well?
The thought made me shiver. It was unnatural, taking a person’s light. How would it feel for them? For me? Alien. I pushed the latter thoughts aside and concentrated. I guided my light into theirs, it morphed. The ethereal knew what I wanted and it obeyed, reaching into the light of the scholars.
One by one the light of the scholars obeyed, each scholar collapsing to their knees, their knees locked and their arms restrained behind their backs by their own power.
The looks on their faces shook me. Terror. Their light had betrayed them.
"What the hell is going on here? I said detain him!", Donal, screaming at his men.
"Sir. Sir... we can't. We can't." the scholar to the right, breathing heavily, his voice soft and cracking.
"Sir, our light. He is controlling our light. It won’t obey. We can't cast. Our own light i
s attacking us, sir." the scholar directly to his left. More steady than the first. But his voice also cracked. A sob escaping.
"Impossible. I... I don't believe it. He is tricking you. Stand and detain him now!" Donal, again, screaming at his followers, his supporters. Donal was angry, angrier than I have ever seen him, and he is always angry. He hates the warriors, everything they stand for.
He believes that knowledge is power complete.
Donal started moving towards me, his light flowing through his arm. I stopped it instantly, a single thought. He froze. Reaching for his power. Disbelief on his face. His mouth was hanging open, his usual snarl replaced by a look of pure horror. He reached for his light, again and again. He dived into his well, pulling and pulling. Screaming and shouting.
I pointed to each of the kneeling scholars, a single thought sleep. Their light obeyed, flowing back through their arms and legs and into their wells, they crumpled.
I looked back at Donal, his fear gone, more anger. He was shouting at me now. I ignored it, walking to Horal. His shield was still under attack, Donal had left a casting in place. A globe of flame and a torrent of fire raining down on Horal's shield. I pointed to the globe, I guided the light - a thin tendril snapped out and the globe was gone. Horal's shield disappeared. He walked to his desk on shaky legs, collapsing into his chair. A heavy sigh. He opened his drawer and pulled out a bottle, a glass flipped over on the lid. He pulled the glass off and poured himself a whiskey.
The Darkest Light: Book 1 of The Inferno Prophecy Page 4
