by Unknown
“You are suggesting that anyone could be behind these attacks?” Sana asked incredulously.
“No, we are looking for someone with the spark, since Blood Magic is dependent upon its use. We are also looking for someone with access to one of the headmasters. They, save for the King himself, would be the only people with enough power, authority and cunning to hide an evil of this magnitude.”
Rainier spoke for the first time, and when he did, he spoke with authority that rarely entered his voice. “The Tallow Tribe remains uninterested observers in most of the politicking of Malethya. However, Blood Magic threatens our most sacred beliefs and we will stop at nothing to end the threat.” Slate knew little of the Tallow tribe’s beliefs despite his time with Rainier, but this wasn’t the setting to inquire further. Ibson found the pronouncement of importance though.
Ink flows like blood,
Blood flows like ink,
If the two should collide,
With whom shall he link?
Other than the word blood, the rhyme made little sense and Slate considered them to be the ramblings of a confused man. Lucus directed the conversation toward Sana. “What have you found in the archives?”
“The only reference I could find was that Cantor, the founder of Blood Magic, had the same ability to feel magic directed at him. He credited the ability for his most profound discoveries, claiming that feeling magic provided him insight into both the pattern and the spark. Later wizards claimed the ability and labeled themselves Perceptors, but all were exposed as frauds. It appears Slate is a true Perceptor but without the ability to cast spells like Cantor.” Sana held a mixture of wonder and empathy on her face that made Slate feel like a test subject. He preferred the look in her eyes from the night before…although that look could be equally confusing. “Nothing I found implicates a likely suspect. What will we do next?” Sana let her frustration at failing to find more solid answers show during her final comment.
Slate looked to Lucus but found the wizard staring back at him. “Slate, it appears you have a sense of intuition that is unnaturally adept. Given the lack of evidence to point us in any single direction, I suggest we follow your intuition.” Slate almost laughed out loud until he saw Sana, Rainier, and even Ibson nodding and looking toward him. “Well, we need more information on the headmasters and I am in the best position to obtain it. I will continue to gather information from Ispirtu, Bellator, and Sicarius. It also strikes me that if we are up against a Blood Mage, they would need training of some sort and they would be unlikely to get that training within Ispirtu or the Wizard Council. Lucus, could you look for any wizards that have recently left the Council or a position within Ispirtu?”
Lucus responded, “Renegade wizards are not spoken of amongst the Council, but I have ways of inquiring…”
“Good. Rainier, you have been taught all the skills that I have as a member of Sicarius. Use them to investigate the liaisons of Villifor. The Sicarius headmaster is beyond either of our abilities at the moment, but we already know Villifor is interested in the comings and goings of the enigmatic headmaster. He undoubtedly has other sources looking for information besides me. We may gain more information about the Sicarius headmaster through your efforts to watch Villifor. Additionally, the information you gain may help me to win favor with Brannon.”
Rainier smiled the same dangerously confident smile he flashed Slate during their tournament match. “The best teachers aren’t afraid to trust their students.” Lucus nodded in agreement.
“Sana, my biggest fear is that King Darik is subjugated by the Blood Mage. If that were the case, the headmasters could be operating with complete integrity and carrying out the orders of a corrupted King. We need someone close enough to the King to determine if this is the case. Seeing that you are already capable of intermingling with the nobility…” Slate referenced her current attire. Sana stared back coldly at the prospect of spending more time with nobility. “…you are best positioned to determine if someone in Darik’s inner circle is feeding him direction behind the scenes.” Slate’s directness in asserting the presence of a Blood Mage was met with mild surprise, so he explained. “Until we prove otherwise, we must assume that a Blood Mage not only exists but that he is behind all of the activities we’ve been investigating.”
Sana answered. “Your logic, for once, is sound. I will do what I can to gather information within the King’s court…even if it means conversing with pompous, entitled nobility.”
Up and up and up,
Down and down and down,
The king that long has reigned,
Soon will lose his crown.
Lucus finished the meeting by addressing Ibson. “We shall meet occasionally to update you on our progress. We will not let your sacrifice, even if we are still figuring out its significance, be forgotten.” With that, the group left Ibson to his own internal poetry.
Slate timed his exit to coincide with Sana in an attempt to placate her mood. “I didn’t mean to place you in a setting where you felt uncomfortable…”
“You did what you thought was best and shouldn’t feel guilty for it. If you are going to be a leader, you will face much more difficult decisions than that.”
Slate could see that Sana’s mood wouldn’t be easily turned, and questioned Rainier about his tribe instead. “Why are the Tallows so concerned about Blood Mages? They haven’t been seen in years…and how does that tie into your tribe’s beliefs? You never speak about them.”
“It is not the tribe’s way to discuss our beliefs. They must be lived to be understood.”
A little girl ran up to Slate, interrupting the question he wanted to ask Rainier. “Can I help you?” Slate asked the girl.
“I was given a lollipop and two ribbons for my hair. Aren’t they pretty? All I had to do was give you this note.” She handed Slate a sealed envelope with the very familiar seal of Sicarius upon it.
Slate smiled down at her. “Yes, your ribbons are very pretty and I hope you enjoy your lollipop.” The group gathered around while Slate opened the letter.
Good afternoon Slate –
Your first meeting with Sicarius will occur in precisely 30 minutes. Please retrieve your mask. Another note will be delivered to tell you the location of the meeting. Arrive unseen and you will gain respect amongst the members.
“I need to leave to prepare for a Sicarius meeting.” Lucus was gracious, as expected. “Have no worries, Slate. Each new task is one less mystery.” Slate gave a smile to Lucus and sprinted to retrieve his mask.
Slate took to the rooftops to avoid the crowded city streets and entered his apartment from the balcony. He contemplated a disguise, but without knowing the location of the meeting, choosing an appropriate disguise was difficult. Instead, he did his best to mimic the look of the Sicarius headmaster by tying his Ispirtu robes so they wouldn’t restrict his motion. Finally he put on the Sicarius mask for the first time.
The enchanted mask formed to his face but didn’t block his peripheral vision or his breathing. Slate tested his newly identified perceptor abilities and sensed the enchanted mask was…grey. It wasn’t light or dark, encouraging or ominous. After having experienced the range of emotions and feelings from previous encounters with wizards, the neutrality of the mask felt strange. Slate interpreted the feeling to mean the mask was not intended for good or evil. It was simply a tool of Sicarius. Perhaps this meant it could be used in any way the wearer intended or that the previous owner had committed acts on all spans of the spectrum.
Slate found the Sicarius headmaster waiting for him on the balcony. “Follow me.” The headmaster commanded before climbing to the roof and bounding across a few buildings. The headmaster stopped a few rooftops away and said, “Nice outfit.”
“Next time you should send a dress code.”
“I couldn’t risk telling you the location of the meeting. I still don’t trust your judgment after your antics at the Regallo estate. To protect the members of the guild, I decided to pers
onally escort you to our meetings until I feel you are trustworthy. Do you accept these terms?”
“I don’t believe I have a choice.”
“There is always a choice. Accept my terms or turn in your mask and never hear from me again.”
Slate stood by his original comment but didn’t feel the urge to say so. “Your terms are accepted.”
“Excellent.” The headmaster retrieved a shock stick and signaled with a whistle. Two shadows in Sicarius masks jumped onto the rooftop. “Sicarius Guardsmen are adept at handling and disposing of incapacitated targets. Perform your duties with honor so that you don’t become a target for disposal.” The headmaster reached for Slate’s neck and a jolt preceded a wave of blackness as he fell into the waiting arms of the guardsman behind him.
Slate awoke in a haze and shook his head to clear the cobwebs. His memory came back in short order and he gathered his bearings. Slate sat in a chair within a small four foot by four foot room with a door and a full length window. A quick check of the door proved it to be locked.
As his senses cleared, his circle of awareness broadened. Outside the full length window was a small stage with the Sicarius symbol inlaid upon it. The lions of King Darik were set on either side of the stage, although the symbolism was unclear. Were Darik’s lions protecting Sicarius or were they shoved to the sides of the stage as an afterthought? No other members of Sicarius were visible from his vantage point.
The headmaster strode onto the stage and pronounced in fluctuating intonations, “We are the eyes and ears of the kingdom. We go where others fear and carry out our mission with speed, silence, and absolute finality. We do this to protect the people of Malethya from those that plot in the night. We are Sicarius.” An orb near Slate’s feet illuminated and the light reflected off a huge, multi-faceted mirror that made up the wall behind the stage. Slate could make out the reflections of the other members of Sicarius, but he found it impossible to number them or even identify which reflections were duplicates due to the Sicarius masks. The headmaster had arranged for a meeting of the entire guild without risking the identities of any members…it was brilliant and paranoia-inducing all at the same time.
“Two of our Sicarius brethren have fallen in service to the King since our last gathering.” A moment of silence passed. “I will recount their missions, so that our brethren can teach us even in their passing. One member was sent to a northern village where reports surfaced of animals acting with uncharacteristic aggression. House cats turned on their owners and birds dove at villagers when they fled outside. The guardsman underestimated the widespread affliction within this village and didn’t bring enough darts, his preferred modus operandi, to dispatch the rabid animals. A second guardsman was dispatched to the village and found the body of the first guardsman devoured by rats in an alleyway. After her initial report, she was not heard from again. I went to the village myself, only to find that it had disappeared.” The headmaster reflected for a second. “Recently, similarly aggressive attacks by animals and people have been reported through the Northern villages. I have reported these findings to King Darik, and he has chosen to address you directly.”
King Darik stepped from a recessed doorway in formal dress bearing his characteristic lions and stood beside the Sicarius headmaster. He spoke with a predatory snarl worthy of his crest. “Since the Twice-Broken Wars ended decades ago, I have held this kingdom at peace. Now a cowardly enemy lurks in the shadows and threatens the peace I work so diligently to maintain. I implore each of you to provide information on these attacks using whatever means necessary. As the eyes and ears of my Kingdom, I expect you to uncover the truth. If you are unable to do so, I will seriously question the usefulness of this guild. I have complete faith in your training and abilities, but now is the time to prove your worth. Report to the headmaster immediately with any findings related to this topic. I now conclude this meeting.” King Darik swirled around and left the meeting room. His demeanor was in opposition to the public persona displayed at the tournament. This was a man every bit as dangerous as the headmasters he employed.
The orb at his feet grew dim with the departure of the king and Slate sat patiently in his room since the door was still locked. A few minutes later, the Sicarius headmaster opened the door. “What did you think of your first guild meeting?”
Slate didn’t feel like exchanging pleasantries. “The mirrored wall was a nice touch. It really made me feel connected to the other members of the guild. I almost forgot that I was sitting in a locked cage.”
The headmaster sighed. “The king requests the doors remain locked when he attends our meetings. Our training makes him feel uncomfortable, but his logic is flawed because there are better places to carry out an assassination than here. My arguments didn’t assuage the king’s discomfort.”
“The Crimson Guard serves the king. Does he have reason to mistrust Sicarius?”
“The king is a battle proven war hero accustomed to meeting his enemies head on. Without a war to fight, he fears the potential enemy at his side. The occurrences of late have increased his paranoia, and the secrecy surrounding the attacks has a distinctly Sicarius flare. The fact that we are unable to find information on the subject reeks of incestual plotting. We have battled our own internal demons within Sicarius in the past, but in this instance I believe the enemy to be elsewhere. Do you have information on the topic?”
“A wise person once told me that information is power, even going to unprecedented lengths to preserve anonymity amongst allies. The same person told me I wasn’t to be trusted. So why should I trust you with information, and power, when you already hold more of each?”
“Trust is not one of my strong suits. I could formally request the information as the headmaster of Sicarius, but then I would worry about misinformation. I would spend endless hours verifying the accuracy of your information and the entire exercise would be a waste of time. How about a trade instead? I have information of interest concerning Pillar and its inhabitants. I will provide it to you under two conditions. The first is that you provide information of equal value that is specific to the attacks. The second condition is that I judge the value of your information relative to mine.”
“…and if it is not?” asked Slate.
“You, Rainier, Lucus, and Sana have spent considerable time in the wake of the Pillar attacks investigating potential causes. If you haven’t found anything by now, you don’t deserve to be a guardsman.”
Slate thought they had managed to find surprisingly little information in the past few months, but the enticement of learning about Pillar was too great. “Agreed, you have a deal.”
“The attack on Pillar intrigued me because of its connection to our new tournament champion and because of the town’s size. Pillar is not large, but most of the villages attacked in the north didn’t even have names, so the attack on Pillar was of a much grander scale. The connection between Pillar and you is obvious, but why wouldn’t they wait until you were in the village or attack you directly? I suspected some link between the instigator of this attack and Pillar itself, so I looked into its history. I discovered that Pillar did not exist before or during the Twice-Broken Wars. It was established as part of the treaty that ended the war, but its inhabitants and their past lives could not be discerned.”
Slate’s mind reeled. Pillar didn’t exist until after the war? The townspeople never spoke of the Twice-Broken Wars with the exception of his father when confiding that he had been a soldier. “My father served in the King’s Army and Villifor knew him on sight. Do you know anything of Villifor’s past?”
“Books proclaim his deeds in the Twice-Broken Wars. Against the Disenites, he was the champion of the people for defending them against the invasion while Darik struggled to unite the nobility under his banner. During the Civil War, he pretended to side with the revolutionaries and won some preliminary battles against Darik’s forces. Then he combined his forces for an assault on Ravinai, only to lead the revolutionaries into the
awaiting defenses of Darik’s army, causing their unconditional surrender. Villifor was hailed by Darik and by soldiers of the King’s Army for delivering them victory. The people of Malethya, tired of the bloodshed from two wars, chanted Villifor’s name in the streets for bringing peace to the land. However, everyone was surprised when he was appointed headmaster of Bellator at the end of the war. Halford Patton was the general of the King’s Armies and most people presumed he would head the guild…I will look into it. Now, I believe it is your turn.”
Slate was still processing the information about Pillar while choosing the information he would share with the headmaster. “I saw Pillar before the mine exploded and witnessed the aftermath of the attack. People, armed only with farm implements and rudimentary tools, attacked my parents. My childhood home was built into the side of a mountain and was heavily fortified. My father defended against the attackers, but he was overwhelmed by the sheer number of people.” The memory brought back the images from that night, but Slate held his emotions in check. “Common villagers would not have attacked with that ferocity, especially against a more skilled and heavily fortified opponent. It was unnatural.”
The Sicarius headmaster considered the value of the information shared. “I realize that was a difficult story to tell, but I need more information. You have only just confirmed what I summarized at the guild meeting. Please continue.”
