by Jon Bender
Jaxom took a risk, releasing his off-hand to cast the coil at the feet of one. The magic wrapped around the shade’s ankles and sent it tumbling to the ground. The move cost him only a second, but it was enough for the shade Jaxom faced to draw blood on his arm.
Warin was still holding his attacker at bay with more of the bone daggers, which the shade was happy to evade as long as Warin never turned from him. When the shade gave the other death mage an opening, Warin cast the veil, obscuring the shade’s view before skewering him with several more bone daggers.
Still defending against a hail of attacks, Jaxom watched as the last shade moved toward Lexa. Redoubling his effort, Jaxom accepted a deep gash to his flank while driving his own sword into his opponent’s chest. Wrenching the blade free of the shade’s ribs in spray of blood, he turned, knowing he would never reach the apprentice in time. As the shade brought his blade up to slash at her, she brought her own hands up in what Jaxom thought was a futile attempt at defending herself. The blight flowed from her hands in a cloud, enveloping the attacker. Jaxom had no choice but to stop short or stumble into her cast. When the magic dissipated, it left behind an unmoving, half-decayed man on the ground. Taking only a moment to marvel at the strength of her cast, Jaxom turned to help Warin, who had created a bone made staff to block the curved blade’s strike. The shade now attacked with all its abilities, shifting back and forth to avoid Warin’s casts while trying to land a blow.
Jaxom thrust his sword toward the dark servant’s midsection, forcing the shade to parry the strike. The masked figure tried to back away into the dark, but Jaxom kept the pressure on, denying him any retreat. Several bone daggers found his flesh, which caused him to stagger and left an opening that Jaxom quickly exploited. He slashed downward, opening a rent in the shade’s chest from shoulder to opposite hip. Entrails spilled out to flop wetly on the ground. The shade made no sound, only staring hard into Jaxom’s eyes with hate before collapsing.
With the fight over, Jaxom cleaned his blade on the cloak of one of the dead men, feeling a sharp twinge of pain from his side. Sheathing his sword, he looked at both Warin and Lexa, searching them for wounds and finding none. He pulled clean bandages from the bags to bind the injuries on his arm and side.
“Lexa, would you please move these…” Warin said, his words trailing off.
“Shades,” Jaxom offered.
“Please move the bodies a good distance away from the camp,” he said finishing.
“Yes, Magus,” she replied calmly.
“Lexa,” Warin said, stopping her, “you did well tonight.”
The young woman nodded and gave him a small smile before reanimating the dead bodies. As the apprentice directed them away, having two stop to retrieve the decapitated body, Warin helped Jaxom secure the bandages, pulling them tight and causing Jaxom to wince in pain. The bleeding from his side had slowed considerably but not stopped.
“These shades, I take it you have run into them before?” Warin asked.
“A few times. It has not always ended so well,” Jaxom said looking at the bandages pointedly.
“What are they?” Warin asked, watching Lexa follow the shades away from their camp.
“They were men before Or’Keer gave them their abilities. In a way, they were created as the first mages were, with the power of a god infused into human bodies,” Jaxom said. “Or’Keer is young though. We don’t think he is capable of creating actual mages yet. From what I understand, few men can survive being imbued with the power of a mage, even when an older god does it. So Or’Keer found an alternative. He gives these people only a small amount of power, which allows many to survive the change. They are more deadly than normal men, especially at night, but one on one they are no match for us,” Jaxom finished.
“Or’Keer gives them the facility to move like they do and blend into the dark?” Warin asked.
“Yes, as well as increased speed. Shades are especially lethal when they catch you unaware. The first time we encountered them, they killed dozens of people before we were able to drive them out of the palace,” Jaxom said.
“It seems that I have joined your war sooner than I expected, as has Lexa,” he said watching as the apprentice returned to the camp.
Jaxom nodded. “I had hoped to keep her from it a bit longer.”
“We still have a few more hours before sunrise. If you want to get some more rest, I will take the watch.”
“No, you and Lexa go ahead. I will stay awake,” Jaxom said. The fresh pain in his side would prevent him from sleeping even if he could close his eyes after the fight. He had forgotten what it felt like to ride the edge between life and death, when one wrong move could mean slipping over the lip into darkness. He had not realized how much he missed fighting until just now. Jaxom wondered what that feeling said about him. After banking the fire once more, they covered themselves back up in their blankets while he sat down to stare into the night. In a short time, he had become the lord of a city and founder of a school of magic, but those were not the changes that worried him. He had actually enjoyed the brief but bloody fight. Looking back at the stars, he waited for the sun.
Chapter 4
Laiden wandered through an empty hall, avoiding his daily class with Master Battin. The older man was teaching him about the history of the kingdoms, a waste of time as far as Laiden was concerned. There were more important things going on in the world. He did not understand why Magus Jaxom and Magus Alimar insisted on him learning from books when casting magic was so much more fun.
A rat scurried away from the light of his candle lamp. On a whim, Laiden raised his hand to kill the pest. Pulling the energy of death into himself as he had been taught, he willed it to his purpose. The blight crept toward the small animal, grazing its flank. The touch was light and quick, but the rat was small. It dropped dead mid-stride.
“One fewer vermin,” he said, wishing that it had been a shade. The cast had just been under the furthest he had ever been able to reach, and he felt a sense of pride at how quickly he had reacted and formed the magic.
Walking over to the carcass, he could see that the small animal’s front leg had been partially rotted away. Placing his hand just over the area the blight had touched, he concentrated on willing the dead flesh to knit itself back together, feeling the sinew and muscle closing up the hole he had created. He could not grow back the parts that had been completely destroyed, not even Magus Alimar could do that, but he was able to get the rodent walking again. The rat would have a slight limp, but nothing that would stop it from functioning as it had in life. Once finished, he moved his hand away to admire his work. The rat now had a bald spot just above its leg where the blight had destroyed the fur away. Channeling again, he sent power into the creature. Its nose twitched, and both of its eyes began to glow a soft white. Laiden instructed the rodent to climb up his arm to his shoulder. Magus Alimar had told him that he must learn to supply the power that reanimated a risen without thought, and the only way to do that was with practice. The rat would serve that purpose well enough while he explored.
Holding the lantern out to light his way, he found himself in the lower levels of the palace. He could almost feel the tons of rock and dirt pressing down on him. For a moment, he considered turning back, but forced aside the uncomfortable feeling, knowing it to be foolish. The ceiling was not about to come crashing to the floor after hundreds of years. Pushing onward, he turned down a hall lined with small doors on both sides. He had already explored many similar doors, finding only empty crates and barrels, or the occasional pile of rotted clothing. The door at the end of the hall, however, was different, wider and taller.
There was no knob, only a key hole in an iron plate where the knob should have been. Setting the lantern down on the ground, he laid both hands against the old wood and pushed with all his strength. The door did not even creak. Stepping back, Laiden stared at the obstacle. Then an idea occurred to him. The blight could decay almost everything except stone, and the wo
od of this door had once been a living tree. Raising his hand, Laiden called on his magic to destroy the offensive door. The magic did what it was supposed to do. The wood turned black and crumbled to the floor in chunks, followed by the clang of the plate hitting the stone floor. Where the door had been, Laiden found only a solid wall with a square hole no bigger than his hand near the floor.
Placing the lantern near the hole, he commanded the risen rat to enter the opening. Using the flow of magic connecting him to it, Laiden took control of its body to see for himself if there was anything of worth on the other side. Through the rat’s eyes, he saw a large block of wood embedded in the floor with a heavy chain bolted to the top. He began to chew on the block but realized he would wear the rat’s teeth to nubs before he got through. Pulling back into himself, Laiden released the flow of magic reanimating the small animal, letting it fall dead once more. Placing a hand over the hole, he cast the blight, filling the small space with his magic. A loud cracking sound was followed by a pop like the snapping of bone.
Jumping back, Laiden watched as the stone wall began to rise into the ceiling above, revealing a very large room lined with tables and shelves. The air inside the room was stale, and near the door were the skeletons of four men who seemed to have died holding onto two chains that ran into holes above either side of the door. Laiden spared only a moment to wonder who the men were and how they had died. He walked deeper into the room inspecting a variety of dusty objects arranged on a nearby shelf-- on which was a mixture of many different objects sat. There was jewelry, buckles, cloak clasps, and even a pen. Picking up one of the rings, he cleaned it on the front of his shirt and brought it closer to his lantern to get a better look. It was silver, formed into the head of a wolf with a diamond set between its teeth. He slipped the ring over the middle finger of his right hand.
Satisfied the ring would not slip off, he moved onto a row of swords and axes hanging from a rack. Magus Jaxom carried an enchanted sword, and Laiden imagined himself fighting beside the man with a sword of his own. He lifted one from the rack. The weight of the blade was unfamiliar to him, and he knew he would require years of training to become an expert. Deciding that walking around the palace with a sword might not be the best idea, he placed the weapon back where he had found it. Moving on to one of the smaller tables, he found ten more rings neatly placed in two rows. These were not made of silver but some kind of stone, and every set of two was a different color. Picking up one of the red ones, he looked more closely. The ring was smooth around the edges and weighed more than he thought it should.
“Who wore you?” he asked aloud and was startled when he heard another voice in the room. Stepping away from the table and brining his lantern up to peer into the gloom, he saw nothing. “Who’s there?” he called out. Again, he heard the voice, and located the source as the table where he had found the ring.
Bringing the stone ring up to his lips, he watched the table. “Hello,” he said, hearing his voice repeat from the table. Understanding now that the rings were enchanted, he set his lantern down on the wooden surface before picking up the twin of the ring he held. Bringing the second ring to his ear, he repeated the process, hearing his own voice emanating from the second.
“Wait till Magus Alimar finds out about you,” he said. The mention of the mage sent a surge of apprehension through his body. After Master Battin’s class, he was to meet Magus Alimar in the training yard. Laiden was sure he was already late. Missing one of the kindly old teacher’s lessons would only earn him a stern talking to from the man, but Magus Alimar was far more intimidating. He did not want to find out what would happen if he was late for training. Putting the rings back where he found them, he snatched up the lantern and ran out of the room.
By the time he reached the training yard, the sun was well past its peak. Alimar stood in the center of the yard, looking displeased.
Hurrying out to join his mentor, he was about to explain what he had found when the man raised a hand, stopping him. “I do not want hear your excuses, Laiden,” Alimar said. “You knew when you were to be here. If you ever want to earn the title of magus, you will have to take this more seriously.”
“But, Magus--” Laiden began.
“I said I do not want to hear it. You are already cleaning out the horse stables after this lesson. If you disobey me again, I will find worse for you to do. Do you understand?” he asked.
Laiden nodded grimly. Cleaning out the stables was not something he dreaded, having done exactly that for many years of his young life. He would tell Alimar of his discovery when the mage was not so angry.
“Good. Now move away to the same distance as last time and cast the blight,” he said.
Laiden did as he was instructed, taking a spot about twelve feet away from the mage. The goal was to have him form the blight and reach the mage with it, a task he had yet to complete. Raising his left hand, he pulled the energy of death into himself, directing the power to the tips of his fingers. Once he was ready, the twisting columns flowed toward his mentor. When the magic reached almost ten feet, he lost control and the cast dissipated into the air. Redoubling his effort, he tried to push it farther but dropped his arm when he could no longer maintain the constant flow.
“Well done. You made it much farther than last time,” Alimar said. “Now, try with your other hand.”
“My other hand?” Laiden asked. Forgetting that he was not allowed to speak.
Alimar raised an eyebrow at the question. “Yes, your other hand. Every time we practice, you use your left. There may come a time when you have no choice but to use your right, and if you are to control two casts at once, you will need both.”
Laiden nodded and raised his right hand towards the mage, beginning the process again. He pulled the energy into himself, but something unexpected happened when he cast. Heat engulfed his hand, and a pillar of flame roared forth from the wolf ring straight at Alimar. Laiden only had enough time to see a look of surprise on his mentor’s face before the flame hit a barrier, spreading over the magical defense like spilled water over a floor. Pulling the power back and jerking his hand away, the flame stopped, revealing an angry Alimar behind a shimmering wall.
Releasing the shield, Alimar marched towards him, his look of anger changing to bewilderment. “How did you do that?”
“I think it was this,” Laiden said, raising his hand to show the mage the ring.
Pulling the ring from his hand, Alimar inspected it. Placing the ring on his smallest finger, he cast and a column of fire erupted from his outstretched hand. The flame burned for many minutes until it weakened and disappeared completely.
“So it has a limit, but will it recharge itself?” Alimar said to himself. “Where did you get this?” He asked looking back at Laiden.
“That was what I was trying to tell you, Magus. I was exploring the palace--” he began.
“You mean you were avoiding Master Battin,” Alimar said.
“I found a door,” Laiden continued not wanting to incriminate himself further. “I used the blight to destroy the door, but there was only a wall behind it with a hole and a wooden block attached to a chain. When I broke the block, a door in the wall opened to a room,” he finished.
“And that is where you found the ring?” Alimar asked.
“Yes, Magus,” he said.
“Show me.”
When they got to the door, Laiden was about to lead him in when Alimar placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him, then going first himself. The mage moved his torch about, searching the entirety of the room before waving Laiden in.
“What else did you touch?” he asked.
Laiden pointed at the swords. “The smallest one there,” he said.
“Did it do anything?” Alimar asked.
“No, Magus, but those rings did,” Laiden said.
“What rings?”
Walking over to the small table, Laiden reached out his hand to pick up the red ring when Alimar grabbed his wrist. “Do not to
uch anything. We do not know what these items can do,” Alimar said.
“I know what these do,” he replied. “If you speak into one, you can hear your voice in the other,” he said raising his chin.
Alimar gave a short laugh and let go of his wrist. “Well then, go on. Show me.”
Grabbing the two red rings again, Laiden handed one to the mage before moving back to the door. “Can you hear me, Magus?” Laiden asked into the ring.
Holding his own ring to his lips, Alimar, spoke quietly so that Laiden could not hear him across the room. “Yes, I hear you,” the ring whispered to him. “What about them?” Alimar asked in a normal voice, indicating the four skeletons.
“I don’t know, Magus,” Laiden replied.
“Who ruled this city before we came?” Alimar said.
Laiden almost rolled his eyes at the history question, but stopped himself before the mage could see. “The city was ruled by the death mages who lived here before they were destroyed by the other schools,” he wisely replied.
“I am glad to see you are not missing all of your appointments with Master Battin,” he said smiling again. “Knowing that they were about to lose the city, what do you think they did with their most valuable possessions?” he said waving his hand at the room.
“They hid all their enchanted items in this room?” Laiden asked in awe.
“Those men on the floor were probably risen used to seal it from the inside,” he said. “You may have found the most important treasure in the world, here.” Laiden lit up at the praise. “Do not think this gets you out of cleaning the stables. You still failed in your duty as an apprentice.”
Laiden hung his head and sighed loudly.
Chapter 5
