The Ways of Mages: Two Worlds

by Catherine Beery

  On the opposite wall from her chair she had hung a huge plaque of Kales Amei, timeless glass. Engraved upon it for all time were the names of the hundreds of people she had indirectly murdered. She couldn’t dishonor them by forgetting them.

  “Mommy should know who I am.”The child’s voice brought her out of dark memories.

  “Why is that?”A pause then“And how are you here?” Aritéasked. On this occasion, Aritéhad not opened any pass that a person on foot could traverse.

  The child only whimpered.“How can mommy not know me? We have been together for a long, long time. How can mommy not know me?”

  Aritélooked at the child with more than her eyes; she looked with telecy. To her eyes there was a dirty child. To her mind there was…nothing. This could only mean one thing. The child was an illusion, but how could that be? Long ago, Aritéhad warded her home against such things. The wards were not light things either; they were strong enough to keep a whole nation of telecersat bay. They didn’t even know of the wards existence. Instinctively, Aritéchecked her wards and found them well. How was the child here?

  “It hurts, mommy, it hurts.”The illusion child moaned.

  “What hurts?”Aritéasked as she surrounded the child with mental walls. No ordinary telecer could force an illusion through such things. Only the strong ones could and even they would have problems getting though her walls.

  “The fires of the past.”The child stated, wiping eyes on a dirty sleeve.“Why do they hate themselves? Don’t they know they make themselves bleed?”The child pouted.

  “Who?”Aritéasked, keeping the child talking so she could find the mind that was behind it. Since the illusion got past her wards, then there must be a great mind, or many behind it. The thought concerned her. How could anyone know she was here?

  The child cocked its head as if wondering how slow Aritémust be.“The Brothers, mommy. The Brothers. The ones who were split by fire and earth. The ones who forgot themselves and met again in deceit. Mommy should know of them.”The child accused.

  There was no trace of where the illusion came from. No string that tied it to its origin. That could only happen if the illusion touched its origin. But there was no one there to touch the child…no one…unless…

  The illusion frowned for a second at Arité. Then to Arité’s great shock, took a step forward. Aritégasped as she felt the walls shatter. She backed from the child. This could not be. It was not possible.

  “Mommy! Why do you retreat from me?!”The child demanded. “I must tell you something!”

  “What?”Aritéstopped backing a yard from the child.

  “I have a secret.”

  After a pause Aritéasked.“Well?”

  “Secret.”The child repeated.“I can only whisper it or others will hear.”

  “There are no others here.”Aritégestured about her home.“There haven’t been for many, many years. What is it your master wants to tell me?”

  The child looked confused.“Master? I have no master but you. You wanted to know if…”It blinked and looked around with a scared expression.“I can tell only you.”its voice had turned plaintive, then outright anxious. “The raging will hear it and will strike me! Please let me whisper it in your ear?!”Before Aritécould respond the child was before her on tiptoes. The illusion’s voice whispered into old Arité’s ear.“The Sword of Tiva was awakened when the Star of Mar was born.”The whispered voice slipped into Arité’s mind. A sword is double edged so to cut both ways. One way to destruction; the other to Salvation.” Arité’s eyes widened at the line of the verse.“ The Sword rests in Night; teeters upon its own edge. It needs the Star’s fire to light its path. This is the last chance to heal tortured wounds… The illusion backed away, a smile spreading on its face.“Mommy, a Brother goes to see his sibling in the south.”In Arité’s mind she heard the voice whisper. The sword flies.Aloud, the child continued. “He flies now. You should recognize him.”And as Aritéwatched, the child dissolved into a glowing nimbus that shattered into many ribbons that snaked to spots of bare mountain. There, it vanished.

  ***

  Aritéstared. She had never seen such a thing in her many, many long years living here. The illusion came from no living mind. The child had come from the Nirami’s Grave itself. The mountain chain itself…

  After a relatively short time, Aritéwas able to wade out of her shock. She could have kicked herself. She should have kicked herself. If Jewel were here, she would have provided the butt kicking. Jewel may have even suspected that the child was the Nirami’s new way of communicating. But Jewel had left for the Golden Coast a week ago on one of her usual trips. Aritédidn’t like leaving the mountains. She couldn’t take the pain of how things had changed. So she stayed with her mountains.

  Speaking of which, she should have remembered that the Nirami had a kind of‘mind’. How often had she directed what it did? How could she forget? Old age must be getting to me.She thought sullenly. No wonder the child said the things it did. She was its master and she had told it to alert her if anyone tried crossing the Nirami. Now someone was attempting to. Someone who, according the illusion’s phrasing, was heading south. A Sheyestivan.

  And the prophecy…the Nirami’s Grave was a tortured scar upon the land; it would know when there was a hope it could be healed…

  Aritéturned from her door to the basin of water. It was a large thing that rose from the floor to her waist and was wide and deep enough to be a bath tub. Although, no one would want to bathe in it because of its wild waters. She had gathered the water from the rain outside centuries and centuries ago when she had first arrived in the Nirami’s Grave. Never in all that time had the water stilled on its own. Constantly it churned, the wild magic within it knowing no rest. Wild, fighting, restless magic was what formed the Nirami’s mountains all those long years ago. And for some reason beyond knowledge, remained trapped within the boundaries of those same mountains. The wild magics were what drove the storms and heated the rain water. It was those same magics that made‘ghosts’to those who knew not of illusions. Many people to the south considered the Nirami’s Grave to be the land of the dead. Aritécouldn’t necessarily disagree with the consideration. The Nirami was a dead, barren place. She was the only living thing who couldlive here. Aritécould control the purposeless energies.

  Her basin gave her easy access to these magics. It was how she was able to observe and control everything in her domain. Now she stood before the churning waters. Aritédipped a solitary finger into them. The magic within recognized that within her blood. It knew she wanted something and magic longs for something to direct it. It wanted a purpose. The water stilled as it waited for her purpose. Aritésmiled slightly. Then she focused upon a single thought; to find.

  The magic started the waters to slowly circle her finger, like a dog promised a treat. Eagerly it waited for the scent of what it was to find. Aritéwetted it with the telecymagics at her command. With a jolt, Arité’s consciousness was pulled in the wake of the magic as it hunted. A fair distance from her body passed before it showed her its prey. A great eagle with feathers made of the very absence of light soared between two mountains. With a length of seven feet and a wingspan of eleven,‘great’was an accurate description. For all his size, the eagle’s movements were smooth with not an ounce of energy wasted. Calculating, intense, black-veined blue eyes watched everything.

  Her illusion visitor had been correct. She recognized him alright. Not just his kind, but him. In an age past, Kaishan had led his country’s troops south to begin that bloody, wasteful war called The Shadow War. There was no quarter given, nor mercy to ordinary folk. It took precious time for the people of the south to realize that they were suddenly in a conflict for their very existence. Just in the end, when it looked like the conquerors were to win, the southern king with nothing to lose and everything to gain, cast a spell. A spell the likes of which had never been seen in ages ended the Shadow War with a stalemate…

  He looks just as he di
d when last I saw him.Aritéthought. Perhaps a little older… She reconsidered. The only difference was the silver flashes along his wings. Focusing on those flashes, Aritécould feel the warmth of marana. A small smile touched her lips. The southern king’s spell had marked the High Prince. I wonder where the scoundrel thinks he is off to? She thought. Coming to a decision quickly, Aritéordered the magic into a very, very fine tether that she stuck to the eagle Kaishan. She blessed the buzz of the wild magic all around for it hid what she did from him. His kind, especially him, were sensitive to workings of telecy. They had to be if they wanted to live. Kaishan, the High Prince, was very sensitive and strong in telecy. Aritéfound just how sensitive. Even with the veil of wild magics, Kaishan still tensed when she hooked the tether. After a tense moment it seemed like Kaishan decided that Arité’s light touch was nothing more than some brush of wild power. He relaxed.

  Kaishan was Emperor Shantév’s sword.‘The Sword flies’ A sword that was probably the greatest weapon Sheyestiva owned.’ A sword is double edged so to cut both ways…’ None dared challenge the High Prince. Not only was he a strong telecer, he was also the Winged Dagger. A formidable figure that Aritéfelt would cut into the very flow of history. ‘One way to destruction; the other to hope’.He had to be the sword mentioned in her verse… ‘Hope lies it the Sword.’She intended to guide him.

  The eagle prince winged into the higher atmosphere. No other birds could fly as high as he and still the Nirami’s peaks rose above him. Soon Kaishan broke from the mountains. He remained high to avoid detection. The distance probably made him appear to be a small bird to those below. Something far from a threat. A Sheyestivan was nothing without his illusions.

  They now flew over Marlhema. These lands were the exact opposite of the Nirami. Where the Nirami were barren, these lands were full of life; rolling grass lands, great forests, hill lands and mountains. Human civilization was scattered everywhere like bread crumbs. Bread crumbs without their dragon guardians. If Kaishan was scouting, as she assumed he was, then he knew that Marlhema was more than vulnerable. If his people wanted victory, this was his chance.

  Flying over the northern plains of Marlhema, Aritéwondered how long Kaishan would fly over this land before heading back. Hopefully not too long…She knew where her southern kin sheltered, plus there was something that had appeared nineteen years ago; a dome formed out of marana. The dragons were up to something, but she knew not what. Aritéhad the feeling that Kaishan should not find it. She decided that she would stay with Kaishan until he returned north.

  Chapter Fifteen- The Audience of Fate

  Present day- Pershara

  Altana glared at where the couple with the child had disappeared. What was left of the Dark-sons walked around aimlessly. Uselessly. They couldn’t figure out where the couple had gone. In a fit of rage she blasted a score of them. The rest made themselves scarce. She entered the collapsing warehouse with the rage still simmering. How dare that couple slip through her fingers. Her master would very likely not be pleased. The only thing that could be her saving grace was the child in her womb. And even that might not be enough. As soon as she stepped over the threshold a pressure draped about her nape. There was something here…

  “Kas’ja nou!”She commanded. The air rippled and bent but nothing revealed itself. Only strong magic could keep a concealing spell from her. Narrowing her eyes, Altana tried again.“Ne’SHRI KAS’JA!”She gestured sharply. The air roiled. Distorted, but visible, was an odd machine. She had never seen its like before. Her gaze was drawn to a sword in a cradle. What she could see of the blade was black. It made her think of black diamonds. The hilt was of bright brass.

  Altana approached it. Power was emanating from the sword.“A magic sword, father? You’re too kind.”Her smile could have been a thing of beauty if she hadn’t been so evil. Her enemies were getting careless, leaving such a weapon. Their mistake. She would use it against them. Wouldn’t that be…enjoyable? The universe did indeed have a way of balancing out injustices.

  She reached for it. A powerful pressure was building, making it very hard to breathe. Altana ignored the pain in her bones. If her father thought a little pain would keep her from taking this sword, he was wrong. Her hand a breath away from the hilt, Altana felt the hair on her arms stand up straight. She touched the hilt. The pressure let up.

  She laughed. The old man was getting soft in his old age. She turned her hand to get a better grip. With a jerk she began pulling the black blade from the cradle. A current of pure power arced through her body. Pain beyond anything she had ever suffered ripped through her skin, pushed thickly through her veins. Light flashed; searing her eyes even though they were closed. Blinded by the brilliant white light, Altana felt herself being hurled away. Maltacken’s gift seized and tightened. about her wrist. The rose thorns pierced her flesh like grinding jaws. Screams filled her ears. Despite the noise she had the sense of hearing a voice speaking.

  It was very succinct. “DO NOT.”

  The pain lessened and Altana became aware of whimpering sounds. The problem was, not all of them were hers. Altana made to sit up when a stabbing pain bit into her abdomen. Her master’s new husk! She put her hand to her stomach. She sent a tendril of magic to check upon the baby. It was alive. She was no healer, but she was sure the child was fine. The pain she had felt must have been an aftershock from the sword. Breathing a sigh of relief that she would not be reporting the husk’s death to her lord, she sat up.

  An unexpected sight met her gaze. A twelve year old girl with dark brown hair was sitting between Altana and the machine. The girl was moaning, rubbing her head.

  Kairevasigh rubbed her aching head. Like the last time she was flung through time she felt drained. Unlike last time, she noticed as she regained her senses, there was an electric tingle. Made her skin itch; like when she flew near where a storm was brewing. Glancing about her, Kairevasigh guessed that she had shown up in a warehouse…one that had been badly used. Near her was a very strange…thing. In a strange apparatus was a Sheyestivan sword.

  “Am I home?”She asked surprised. Kaizir had said that she had a journey ahead of her. This just seemed too easy.

  “And where did you come from?”A feminine voice said. A voice that froze Kairevasigh’s blood. The young Sheyestivan girl whirled around getting to her knees. A woman with dark, lustrous black hair was getting up. A long scar on her left cheek marred the woman’s beauty. But there was already something about her that unnerved Kairevasigh. The woman was…evil. Before she had met Kaizir, Kairevasigh didn’t know evil existed. Not in so pure a form, anyway. She knew people did bad things but everyone had been some shade of gray. But now she knew a face of evil. It was beautiful, but wrong and soulless. And what was worse, the evil woman was pregnant.

  Altana met the young girl’s startling eyes. They were blue, which sometimes showed up, but they had silver and black veins in them. They were wide. The girl rose slowly.

  “Answer me.”Altana demanded.

  The girl swallowed, taking a step back. Kairevasigh thought quickly, trying to decipher what the woman said. It had been spoken in some strange form of the Persharan she had learned in Thiodan.“I am…from…around.”She said hesitantly. Hopefully she had gotten the words close enough.

  She could learn the woman’s tongue better if she skimmed it from the woman’s mind. But she had no interest in touching something evil. She wasn’t desperate enough for that yet. And there was the chance that the woman would take her mind. Kairevasigh dropped her eyes to the floor. There were burn marks in the wood.

  Altana sneered.“I doubt that.”She took a step toward the girl. Pressure built in the room as Altana gathered her power.

  “Don’t.”The girl said, looking up. The girl has knowledge of magic…Altana thought. Once she learned what the girl knew, Altana might sacrifice the child to her lord. He might forgive her then for losing GrimHolden and the couple.

  Kairevasigh glanced back at the sword in the strange thing. I
f she could pull it out, she could at least have something between her and the evil woman.

  The pressure went up as Altana cast her immobilizing spell, a cruel smile on her face. Several things happened at that moment. Two of them the sorceress didn’t expect. First, the girl evaded the spell by simply not being there. The child reappeared next to the machine, her hand on the sword. Second, the girl pulled the sword free of its cradle. There was a grating sound as the machine locked down on itself and Altana’s view of it cleared as the concealing spell collapsed. The girl raised the sword toward a very surprised Altana.

  Kairevasigh thanked the fates- or maybe that should be God?- that both men and women were trained in the arts of swordcraft in Sheyestiva. She wasn’t the Winged Dagger or anything, but Kairevasigh could at least defend herself.

  By the woman’s expression, it seemed that wherever Kairevasigh was, the women didn’t know swordcraft. Pressure began building in the room again as the beautiful woman scowled at her. It was at that moment that Kairevasigh wondered if a sword could do anything against magic…

  “HOW DID YOU PULL THAT FREE?!”Altana raged and a ball of black and red fire sprang toward the girl.

  Kairevasigh’s eyes widened and she instinctively teleported to a point behind the crazy, evil woman. The magic fire consumed the metal beast that she had pulled the sword from. The door was now near Kairevasigh. She ran for it, just as the woman was turning toward her.

  “KA TASHA!!”She heard the woman shout.“I want the girl and the sword brought to me.”

  Kairevasigh glanced behind her. The woman was pointing at her…and there were…Things gathering around her. Kairevasigh’s eyes widened and her grip on the sword tightened. She turned away and raced as fast as she could along a deserted dirt road. She could hear scrabbling sounds as the Things gave chase.