Message Bearer (The Auran Chronicles Book 1)

by Dobing, M. S.

  The Magister gave him a weary smile. ‘You listen well. What do you say, boy? The journey is dangerous, I will not lie. You will have both the Magistry’s and the Brotherhood’s finest with you, but as an acolyte you will be more vulnerable than they.’

  He’d made the decision before he’d even been summoned to the table. If they hadn’t asked he would’ve volunteered anyway. Caleb had nearly died. All he cared about now was revenge. Revenge against the sheol. Revenge against those who brought them here.

  ‘I volunteer, Magister. I wish to go on the expedition.’

  The Magister nodded. ‘Then it is agreed. Let the expedition set out as soon as reasonable preparations are made.’

  Seb remained in place as the Brotherhood stood as one and filed out of the room. Silas gave him a warm – too warm – smile as he walked past. Reuben slowed to a stop as he came level with him.

  ‘No doubt I will be on this foolhardy escapade too, boy. Let it be known now that if you falter, I will not slow for you. My brothers are worth ten of you magi, and I do not care if they know this.’

  Seb stared forwards without reply as Reuben smirked and slinked out of the door. Cade followed behind.

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘Nothing I didn’t expect.’

  ‘I’ll see these off, then we’ll talk.’

  ‘Understood.’

  Chapter 32

  Seb trudged outside, relishing the feel of the cool air on his face after the heated atmosphere in the great hall. A series of black cars with tinted windows roared out of the grounds as he leant against the wall.

  ‘Don’t hurry back,’ he whispered as he watched the Brotherhood cavalcade depart.

  ‘That’s not a very nice way to talk about my father.’

  Seb grinned and turned. Cade sat on the wall opposite him.

  ‘Present company accepted.’

  ‘Of course,’ Cade said. Seb joined him.

  ‘I’m guessing that didn’t go so well?’

  ‘Well? Actually it went better than I thought. When Father suggested the plan we thought it was as mental as the magi did. Even Reuben, who was normally the number one champion of crazy thought it was too much of a risk.’

  ‘I have to admit, the logical answer would seem to be speak to the Families. At least at first.’

  ‘Ah, but that’s assuming logical thinking. The magi are a strange breed. The rival families live for points scoring off each other. If this was made public then I suspect this place would be closed down, and the responsibilities of the Magistry would go to one of the other Families.’

  Seb looked at Cade, puzzled. ‘I thought the Magistry was viewed as a relic anyway. Don’t the Families teach their own now?’

  ‘Most, yes. But it’s the prestige about it. The Magistry is nothing like it was. It could be great again, and there’d be no shortage of takers to, how would you put it, assist the Magister in taking over the running whilst they deal with this crisis.’

  Seb nodded. ‘Makes sense then.’

  ‘What does?’

  ‘Why the Magister took so little time to decide. She didn’t have a choice.’

  ‘There’s always a choice. Her pride meant she had only one, though.’

  ‘You don’t think it was the right one?’

  ‘No, I don’t. I think its madness.’

  Seb laughed. ‘Be careful, that’s your father you’re dissing.’

  Cade smiled. ‘It’s nothing new.’

  A comfortable silence fell between them. Seb watched as the acolytes trudged back outside to resume their physical training. They began a slow, almost leisurely jog around the grounds. Strange really, when he’d first joined they seemed so focussed, so dedicated. Now though he saw them for what they were. Lazy didn’t do it justice.

  ‘So what will happen now?’ Seb said eventually, when he’d tired of watching the acolytes complete laps in twice the time it took him.

  Cade shrugged. ‘Like the Magister said. We will go into the Crossing Way, seek out the First.’

  ‘You make it sound so simple.’

  ‘I’ve never been. I’m as in the dark as you are on this one.’

  ‘Well, not quite. You’ve got about fifty years’ experience on me. Plus you can see in the dark.’

  They both laughed then, Seb felt the mood lift from him, just slightly.

  ‘So what else have they been teaching you?’ Cade said, changing the subject.

  ‘It depends on who’s doing the teaching. Caleb was – has – been great, although he’s not the best company. He told me the basics, you know the phosphorus, how possession works and so on. He taught me Sentio -’ Seb paused, noting Cade’s blank expression, ‘The telepathic type stuff – sensing, etcetera.’ Cade nodded. ‘He’s got shed loads of books too that the other acolytes don’t seem interested in that I read when he’s dozed off for the night. I’ve also been learning Avatari with Cian.’

  ‘Ah, that explains it.’ Cade said with a smirk.

  ‘Explains what?’

  ‘How you’ve been holding your own in our last few sessions. I thought something was different.’

  ‘Really?’ He struggled to hide the grin that forced itself onto his face. ‘Why, what’s changed?’

  ‘You hit harder for a start. Before, I could’ve taken you on with one hand behind my back. Now though I have to actually make an effort.’

  ‘Sarcastic bastard.’

  ‘I don’t want you to get cocky.’ Cade stood away from the wall and strode to where his Audi remained, the only Brotherhood vehicle left at the mansion. He opened the door at the driver’s side. ‘I’ll be in touch.’ He gave Seb a quick nod. Seb returned the gesture. Cade sped off without a further word.

  ‘Look forward to it,’ he said towards the vanishing car. The talk with Cade had eased his woes somewhat, but now Caleb came to mind and the heaviness returned. He turned and walked back to the side door.

  Chapter 33

  Sylph woke with a start, her mind echoing with the traitor’s screams. Sweat-soaked hair stuck to her back, her mouth dry like sand.

  She stepped out of bed and went to the open window. She savoured the sensation of cool air on her skin as she looked up at the moon that was only two days from its fullest. As she gazed, her mind drifted to the coming battle, the one that had been in planning for weeks.

  The betrayers of Balor had fallen for Marek’s plan, exactly how he said they would. They were going into the Way, seeking an answer they would never find. They would die down there. All of them. Bar the one who carried the message that Marek desired so much.

  She should’ve been happy. Ecstatic in fact. But instead she felt only numb. It was almost too easy. How had Marek manipulated them so? He was exiled from the Magistry, his abilities not able to penetrate the defences that had existed since they came to this realm. There was something else, something he hadn’t revealed to her. He knew she was suspicious. No longer was she invited to the briefings he gave to the other vassals. They avoided her, even Luchar, her reputation for asking too many questions marking her as a troublemaker.

  None of that bothered her. The vassals were merely pawns, fresh recruits to the cause. It was Marek and his practical disowning of her that hurt so much. She had been his first, his most loyal follower. It was she who’d nurtured him back to health when he’d nearly died at the hands of the giant mage. She was his prodigy, his adopted daughter. He preached the ways of Balor with such passion that she knew she’d finally found someone who she could follow, who would bring back the fallen lord and bring justice against those who’d betrayed him.

  But would Balor approve of what they were doing now? The sheol? The sheol that he fought so hard to defeat? Marek had convinced her for a time. Necessity ruled, that’s what he’d said, the sheol being as much a victim as the Balorans. But now the sheol had possessed hundreds. They ran amok amongst the realm. Marek said he was in control but he wasn’t. Too many were slipping through, possessing the weak minded without even needing
the benefits of the possession process.

  Would Balor approve?

  No.

  He would be disgusted. It was against all he stood for. She knew that now. With Marek leaving her to her own devices the spell had been broken, the chains of blind obedience no longer binding her.

  And then there were the dreams. The dreams of the traitor. But she wasn’t a traitor, was she? At first Sylph was certain she was seeing the theft of some great artefact from the tomb of Balor, seeing it through the eyes of the thief, the one they were hunting. But as the dreams unfolded, revealing more to her, she saw that Sarah wasn’t stealing from the Balorans at all. She was stealing from the sheol, the same sheol that had desecrated the burial site of her Lord.

  The same sheol that Marek now stood in allegiance with.

  Chapter 34

  Marek dismissed Sylph’s anxious bleating from his mind as he pushed upon the heavy oak doors that led into the nave. Candles flickered in the gloom as he marched down the aisle towards the altar. Vassals and sheol alike scurried out of his path, vanishing into the shadows.

  He stopped at the altar. The summoning stones he’d set out hours earlier remained in place, forming a pentagon before him. Dark blood, dried now, painted the altar in lines, joining the stones. The Weave energy was almost tangible, following the blood-lines, forming a cylinder of power that rose from the floor, invisible to all but he.

  The summoning was a risk, there was no other way of looking at it. But he had to ensure that the plan that he’d so painstakingly put together went as decreed. He couldn’t afford to fail now. All the pieces were in place, he just needed a little more insurance.

  ‘Leave me,’ he said, his Weave-amplified voice echoing round the nave like a thunderstorm. The room emptied in seconds.

  Marek turned his attention back to the altar. He brought up his mental shield, shutting out Sylph. The girl was clumsy, her skills inconsistent. Her doubts broadcast from her like a lighthouse. Of course she put on a loyal face when in his presence, but in reality she was lost to him.

  Which was exactly what he was relying on.

  With one last flex of tired muscles, Marek dropped to his knees and began the summoning process.

  Chapter 35

  The past few weeks had fallen into an easy rhythm. As deliveries had been cancelled due to the attack on Caleb, Seb had more time on his hands that he could deal with. The core of the day was spent learning on his own in the training chamber, the focus split between Sense and Self. In the mornings he focussed on Sentio. His sensing had become honed over the weeks; before he could get only vague echoes from around the mansion, now he could discern individuals from the fog. He still couldn’t read minds, but every now and again he picked up the edges of an emotion, usually when the target was particular angry or happy. Cian made a good target; the giant warrior seemed perpetually mad.

  The afternoons now were spent on Avatari. He would race around the grounds, lapping the other acolytes at least once. They still didn’t speak to him, but every now and again he received a simple nod of acknowledgement. It was progress, of a sort.

  He would often train in the melee combat rituals Cade had taught him in the later hours. He brought the training dummy out onto the lawn, where he could practice under the setting sun. It made for a much more comfortable experience than mixing it up in the damp confines of the Drain.

  In recent weeks he’d even attracted a follower. One of the younger acolytes, a boy called Harry, had taken to watching him from the edge of the lawn. They never spoke, but Harry was there every day, without fail.

  The evenings were his own. Without Caleb keeping a beady eye on him he devoured tome after tome from the library. Once he’d learned to skim through the fluff that seemed to bloat the massive books, he found the history of the Magi and the Brotherhood beyond fascinating. He lost many a night learning about the One War, the Great Crossing and the sacrifices that were made on all sides. It fascinated him, but at the same time it caused him sadness. If Woden and the others could see what had become of the mighty magi now they would surely turn in their graves, or wherever they were.

  It was coming up late October when Cade next made an appearance at the mansion. The sky had a permanent grey veneer to it, the trees were bare, exposing the ever watchful sentinels, and there was a biting chill in the air. Not that Seb experienced this, his Avatari now at such levels that he could regulate both heat and cold to more comfortable levels as required.

  Seb was in the garden, reading The Battle of Asyphia - A Hundred Night War when Cade found him.

  ‘It’s been a long time,’ Cade said, casually scrutinizing the massive stone warrior that loomed above them.

  ‘Aye, it has,’ Seb closed the book and placed it in the satchel that sat next to him. He looked at Cade and frowned.

  ‘You’ve got another scar. Two, actually.’

  Cade nodded. ‘It’s brutal out there. We’re losing brothers as fast as we can recruit them.’

  ‘The sheol are still running amok?’

  ‘The press are either calling it mass hysteria or just a general breakdown in moral order. People are going mad, doing crazy shit. Sometimes we stop them, other times it just looks like the work of a lunatic.’

  Seb shook his head. ‘I can’t believe how bad it’s got.’

  The two men sat in silence for a time. The wind blew, whistling through the bare branches. Dark clouds began to muster over the trees, obscuring the low-hanging sun.

  ‘It’s going to rain.’ Seb observed.

  ‘It’s been raining for a while.’

  ‘There’s a reason you’re here, isn’t there?’

  Cade laughed. ‘Did your sense tell you that?’

  ‘No, you’re just shit at small talk.’

  ‘Fair point. Okay, here it is. My father has finally organised the expedition.’

  Seb sat forward. A floaty sensation had filled his gut. ‘We’re going? We’re really going?’

  ‘We are. Tomorrow. You up to it?’

  A mixture of fear and excitement fluttered together in Seb’s chest. He managed to give a shaky nod in response.

  ‘You scared?’ Cade said, a knowing smirk on his face.

  ‘No,’ he lied.

  ‘You will be.’

  Chapter 36

  ‘Are you sure you’re up to this, Seb?’ Caleb said, trying, but failing, to rise from his armchair by the fire. The recovery from the attack at Kollmorgen’s had been steady but slow. The wound, aided by the doctor’s magic, had healed quickly, nothing showing on Caleb but an angry red welt on his shoulder. The attack had damaged more than flesh though, Seb could tell. The spark had gone from Caleb’s eyes, the twinkle of life that drove him now absent. He had an air of being continually afraid, even skittish. He never left the Drain. In fact he never left the chair in front of the fire.

  ‘I’m more than up to this, old man,’ Seb said, placing a well-meaning hand on Caleb’s shoulder. Caleb tensed at the touch, but didn’t flinch away. Progress, Seb thought. A month ago he’d shiver away, as if human contact triggered some kind of repressed traumatic memory.

  ‘I don’t know why they have to send you, anyway. You’re still an acolyte, you shouldn’t be out in the field before you’re ready.’

  Seb gave a tired smile. ‘I’m more prepared than any acolyte. You know that, and they know that. Besides, I have no choice,’ he said, tapping the side of his head.

  ‘Why is it that you’re so much more prepared?’

  Seb paused and looked back. Caleb stared at him, his eyes suddenly clear, intent. The question threw him off guard.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean, ever since your Weave-walk something’s been different about you.’

  ‘Has it?’ he said, his voice a pitch louder than he intended. He rushed around now, gathering the barest equipment required for the journey. ‘Is it cold in a Way, do you know? Should I take an overcoat?’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Caleb, I d
on’t know -’

  ‘What happened?’

  Seb sighed and turned. For a moment he felt like he could just blurt out the whole experience, recount the tale of the serpentine figure and the tower in the middle of nowhere. For many weeks the experience had been a blur, but in recent days his memory had returned in fragments. Even now it still made little sense, and for a moment, he had every intention of telling Caleb about it, but when he looked up and saw the dark, penetrating stare from the old man’s eyes, something cold touched his heart, and he felt his mouth clam up. He slung the rucksack over one shoulder.

  ‘Another time.’

  Seb hurried out of the Drain, leaving Caleb staring in silence at his back.

  Chapter 37

  It was no great surprise that Cian was going along for the ride. The giant warrior stood outside the mansion, clothed in black overalls, as Seb stepped outside. His six foot staff was strapped to his back, the training guards removed from either end. The weapon crackled with Weave-energy. Don and another mage Seb didn’t recognise stood with him. They were dressed all in black aside from the silver sash on their arms.

  Elites.

  ‘Took your time,’ Cian said, getting into the huge Land Rover that had seemingly appeared overnight. Nice to be upgraded, Seb thought to himself as he trudged to the open vehicle. Cian got inside, leaving a bulging holdall on the ground. Seb picked it up and chucked it in the back. The two other magi followed, one driving, one as a passenger.

  ‘You already know Don,’ Cian said.

  Don grinned back.

  ‘You’ve been promoted.’ Seb said.

  ‘Last month.’

  ‘Well done.’

  Don nodded to his left. ‘This is Mik.’

  ‘I don’t recognise you.’

  Cian spoke before Mik could respond. ‘Mik is an elite, although sadly not from the Magistry. I had to call in some favours.’