Star City was the city where the Tower of the Stars was located. It was named after the reef formation at the entrance to the Bay of Barlin where it entered the sea. The reef formation was called Ten Star Reef, and the ten reefs were beacons to inbound ships of the new world beyond.
Although the wagon made good time, it was well into the day when they arrived in the city. The tower was immediately visible, located high up on a mountainside overlooking the Bay of Barlin and the reef formations beyond. Gasps of awe were heard as the newcomers looked up at the impressive tower. They had obviously not seen it as they had passed it in their ship during the wee hours of the morning. The tower had turrets along the walls with cylindrical buttresses on the corners, and the center rose well beyond the buttresses like a giant square turret with many levels. The lower levels were larger than the ones above them and balconies sat atop the levels beneath. There were six levels in all, and the top was adorned with a flag bearing a crest not familiar to the companions.
“It’s definitely not the same as what I remember,” said Sherman.
Harran’s eyes widened and he pointed to the left. “Where is the mountain range? This can’t be the same place. The mountains are not high enough!”
“That’s because things changed during the dragon wars,” explained Kazin. “Most of the tower was destroyed when the upheaval took place, and the mountains were formed around that time. The dwarves lived in the mountains to the north and migrated to the new formations after the dragon wars. That brought a whole new era of prosperity to the dwarves, who were rapidly running out of valuable minerals and gems.”
“Of course,” said Harran, nodding. “I remember all the ancient digs in the northern mountains.”
“They’re not ancient at the moment,” said Kazin. “I’m sure there are plenty of dwarves working those mineral deposits right now.”
“Interesting,” said Harran thoughtfully.
The wagon came to a halt and Kazin and his companions hopped out. It was learned that the Tower of the Stars was where the white mages currently operated from, and where new mages of all types were evaluated as to their magical aptitude and inclination. Everyone was led along a path toward the tower, but no one was monitoring the convoy of potential new recruits. It didn’t take much for them to make a break for it, and they worked their way down to the commercial part of the city. It was just past noon and vendors were excitedly preaching their wares. The town was bustling with both locals and visitors, many who had arrived by boat in the local port.
They paused at a warehouse with a dark alcove so Kazin could transform Harran back into his bearded self. Kazin opted to remain his young self at Amelia’s request. Then the companions entered an even busier marketplace. Everything was being sold from exotic foods to goods from other lands, especially articles of elven or dwarven origin.
Amelia chose to withdraw her orb and saw a pinkish glow in its depths. “Something is not right about this place. We have to be careful.”
The companions remained alert as they moved through the marketplace.
At one point they passed a dwarven vendor who shouted, “Spirit blades! Come get your spirit blades! Dwarven quality and craftsmanship, enhanced with magic! Lightweight and solid! Come get your magical spirit blade! The Sword of Dead! Expert magic, expert craftsmanship!”
Sherman paused mid-stride and a shiver ran down his spine. Olag bumped into him and cursed quietly. Sherman turned to look at Kazin and knew the mage had heard the same thing.
“What’s wrong?” asked Amelia.
Sherman had already turned to examine the dwarf’s display of swords. Dozens of swords lined the table where the dwarf presented his wares. They were chained together to prevent theft. One glance at the swords caused the big warrior’s shoulders to slump. Most of the swords were exactly identical. He could not tell one from another.
“Well?” asked Kazin quietly beside his friend. “What do you think?”
“Um, guys,” interrupted Amelia, tugging at Kazin’s sleeve. She lifted her cloak to reveal the orb as it emitted a dark pink glow.
“Sherman?” pressed Kazin, unfazed.
“It’s the same as the sword I was supposed to bring,” said Sherman sadly. “They all are. I had no idea it was so common.”
“I don’t think your sword was common, Sherman,” said Kazin, eyeing the arrangement before him. He looked up at the dwarf, whose thick black beard and hair almost covered his face. “Which one is the ‘Sword of Dead’?”
The dwarf became evasive. “I don’t know. They’re all magical, but some are more potent than the others. Take your pick. You might get lucky and get a good one.”
“Why did you call it the ‘Sword of Dead’?” asked Kazin. “Where did you come up with a name like that?”
The dwarf shrugged again. “It’s what the mage who made it called it - I mean them.”
Kazin became alert when he heard the slip. “So there’s only one ‘Sword of Dead’?”
“They’re all magical,” hedged the dwarf.
“Where is the mage who enhanced these swords?” asked Kazin.
“He’s dead,” said the dwarf sadly. He caught Kazin’s stare. “But I didn’t kill him!” he pleaded. “He was my partner! He - he died right after he put magic on the - the -.”
“Sword of Dead,” finished Sherman.
Now the dwarf was sweating. “Listen. I’ll give you a sword at half price! It’s a great deal! I made them myself. You won’t regret it!”
Amelia elbowed Kazin. “Don’t!” she hissed.
Kazin ignored her. “You don’t mind if I check if they’re magical first, do you?”
“Go ahead,” said the dwarf, “but I won’t unchain them unless you’re going to buy one.”
“Agreed,” said Kazin. He held up his staff and chanted. Approximately half of the swords emitted a faint glow. “It looks like some of them aren’t magical at all,” said Kazin, eyeing the dwarf with a dark expression.
“But some of them are,” said the dwarf excitedly, pointing to the glowing swords. It seemed he was happy to see some of the swords were actually magical.
“It’s hopeless,” said Sherman with a sigh. “How can we tell which one it is? Half of them are magical.”
Kazin increased the intensity of his spell and the swords with a higher level of magic glowed with greater brilliance.
“Now we’re down to six choices,” said Sherman with a little more enthusiasm.
Kazin increased his magic some more and one stood out with a more powerful brilliance yet.
“That’s it!” cried Sherman. He reached out and touched it reverently.
“Kazin canceled his spell. “We’ll take that one.”
Amelia groaned.
The dwarf was looking at Kazin with a strange expression, as were some nearby shoppers. “You’re good with magic for a young guy,” he said slowly. He lowered his voice. “You know, we could go into business together. I could give you a commission on the swords if you can prove to the customer it really is magical.”
“No thanks,” said Kazin.
“Just unlock the sword,” urged Sherman.
The dwarf did as instructed and Kazin paid him. He even let the dwarf have Sherman’s old sword to get an additional discount. He hoped it would compensate for the removal of a sword so history would not be altered.
Sherman hefted the spirit blade and felt a strange tingle run down his arm into his entire body. He didn’t know it, but the sword melded with its new owner and created a bond that would never be broken. The warrior hefted the blade. “It feels right.” He looked at Kazin. “But how can we be sure it’s the same one? The real one is still at home.”
“It existed before our time,” said Kazin, “so it could very well be the same. Remember how you found it the first time. It was lost for a long time before you handled it. For all
we know, you won’t be bringing it back to your time when we go back. Some magical swords create bonds that last forever if you’re the first one to own or wield it. You won’t know its true capabilities until you use it. Either way, it has a strong magical signature, so it’s a good blade.”
Amelia glared at the two friends as they left the vendor and regrouped with the others. “You guys just blew it!” she snapped. She tugged out her orb and held it up. “Now you changed -,” her voice broke off. The orb was back to its clear colour. “I - I don’t get it,” she stammered.
“It looks like they were supposed to buy the sword,” commented Harran.
Amelia pocketed the orb again. “It doesn’t make sense,” she mumbled, red-faced. “It just doesn’t make sense.”
Chapter 11
Back in the humans’ military compound, a young man named Paul was busy drawing sketches. Paul was a slender youth with long, brown hair. He was not heavily built, and as such was not very effective when it came to fighting. His specialty was more along the lines of artistry. Painting was his favourite method of expression, and he took advantage of his skills to make a modest living doing sketches of various things for people. He was still quite young when he and his parents migrated to the new land, but his passion for painting increased dramatically upon his arrival. The new races of people he encountered - the dwarves and elves – were interesting to talk to and make sketches of. His parents weren’t enthusiastic about his hobby but tolerated it anyway.
Then things changed. War had broken out to the west and able fighters were required. Both of Paul’s parents were seasoned fighters in the old lands, and this call to arms was something they could understand and relate to. With the added incentive of decent wages, they vigorously applied with the military, and took their son along, telling him he would learn along the way. But Paul was not interested in fighting. He just wanted to paint and sketch. Ordinarily, he would have been expelled from the army, but his parents managed to prevent that from happening. This was primarily due to their status. Paul’s mother was known to several important people within the military, who knew of her battle prowess in the old lands. Subsequently, she was immediately selected to become one of the three top lieutenants under the general. Paul’s father was chosen to be one of the infantry division commanders. He could have gotten a higher position himself because of his experience, but he preferred the tactical challenge of leading the infantry divisions and chose to remain in that role. For Paul’s parents, one factor separated this war from the constant wars they had endured in the old lands. The enemy they now fought were primarily non-human. This made the fighting seem more like a defense of their new homes against sinister creatures that threatened to destroy them.
Paul was not enthusiastic about the prospect of fighting. He remained behind at the soldiers’ compound while his parents eagerly marched or rode with the army. They were obviously disappointed in their son’s lack of interest in fighting. It wasn’t until the first injured soldiers returned that his interest was piqued. Reports of strange new creatures reached his ears.
Steeling himself, Paul resolved to go out with the next contingent of soldiers to see for himself. Once he got to where the fighting was underway, he was excited to see the hordes of orcs, goblins, lizardmen, and others. Here was something new and interesting to sketch! He quickly found a secluded spot well away from the fighting and began to make sketches of the various creatures. As luck would have it, the enemy was being pressed back and the fighting moved westward. A field of dead people and creatures lay sprawled across the valley, with human clerics and their assistants scurrying to find any injured humans they could heal or save.
Paul crept from his hiding spot and cautiously approached a dead orc. Its face was ugly, by human standards, but it was very interesting to behold up close. It’s pressed back nose was moist with mucus and its greenish face looked like it was scowling. Its eyes were half open and glazed over. Its tongue drooped from the side of its mouth where one of its bottom teeth protruded up past its cheek. The protruding bottom teeth were long, and stopped level with the nose. How these creatures ate their food with those teeth like that was a mystery to Paul.
Oddly, Paul was not repulsed by the visage of the creature, or the stench or the fact that it was dead. He studied it with a detached curiosity and withdrew his sketch pad and writing implement. Then, with great care, he began to draw.
* * * * *
Lieutenant Holden entered the meeting hall and saluted the arch mages who had assembled for the meeting. He was dressed smartly in a blue and black uniform and held his pie-shaped lieutenant’s hat in his left hand. His hair was short and light brown and he had bright grey eyes over a pointed nose. His mouth was firm and unemotional. He waited to be asked to speak.
“Thank you for seeing us,” began Arch Mage Gresham. He gestured around the table. “We are all eager to hear of news from the front lines.”
More than two thirds of the arch mages were present. The rest were away, either assisting the army’s mages or on other errands. Arch Mage Penna was gone to the barracks to oversee operations involving mages in the front lines. And Arch Mage Brendan was away working on the orb project.
The lieutenant cleared his throat. “Thank you, Sir.” He turned so he was in a position to address the entire assemblage. “As you may have heard, we were making an offensive move against the enemy hordes. With fresh supplies we marched west and encountered only light pockets of resistance. It seemed the enemy was unprepared for an assault and we pursued them just north of the Boot Plateau. The enemy fled and we charged forward with the advantage. We had scarcely entered a pass north of the boot, when it became evident this flight was just a ploy to lead us into an ambush. Lizardmages appeared behind the rocks on the north face of the plateau’s cliffs and began to assault our forces. Coming down the pass from the west were the enemies we were originally pursuing. They had turned and were joined by the bulk of their forces in one giant wall of creatures. Exposed, we were driven back into the forest to the north of the pass where an equally potent force was lying in wait. Human mercenaries, interspersed with magic wielding lizardmages, fell upon us. Our mages managed to counter the attack at first, but soon came upon a new enemy. We had known little about them previously, but soon learned how dangerous they actually were.” The lieutenant looked around at the attentive assembly of mages. “We encountered a contingent of cyclops.”
Gasps and murmurs were heard around the table.
“Please, describe these creatures,” prodded Gresham.
“Well,” said the lieutenant, scratching his head, “they have a thick yellowish green skin and stand around six and a half feet tall. They are similar to humans, and only wear loin cloths. As you’ve probably heard from the dwarves, they have only one eye situated in the middle of their foreheads. The tales of their ability to paralyze are also true. We lost many good soldiers and mages who looked into those creatures’ eyes and became paralyzed on the spot. This left them vulnerable to attack and we were subsequently driven back into the opening in the pass.” The lieutenant shuddered. “It was hard not to look into their eyes. Every instinct makes us want to look into the enemy’s face, but to do so with these creatures is fatal.” Holden withdrew a piece of parchment from his cloak and presented it to Arch Mage Gresham. “We have an artist within the army who has been making sketches of some of the creatures we have encountered. This is a sketch of a cyclops.”
Grasham examined the photo and passed it around the table for the others to look at. “Very striking image,” he commented. “This artist has talent.”
“What happened next?” asked Arch Mage Toele. He was seated forward at the table with his hands clasped in front of him.
Lieutenant Holden continued. “It was around this time when a fortunate thing happened - well, mostly fortunate. A flock of dragons appeared in the sky and decided to get involved. There were so many of them that the sun wa
s blotted out and the sky darkened. I’ve never seen so many of them gathered at once. They flew down into the pass and incinerated both enemies and allies alike. Lizardmen who attacked them with magic from the cliff face were singled out and burned, along with the poor souls in the pass. Some of the forest to the north was also set on fire.
“Continuing the battle was pointless for both sides by then,” continued Holden. “The enemy retreated to the west and we went back to our base in the east. The dragons disappeared as quickly as they had come. The forest fire they started was still visible in the distance after we left.”
“Do you think the dragons got involved in order to stop the war?” asked an arch mage.
Lieutenant Holden shook his head. “It’s hard to say, but I don’t think so. It was as if the dragons were enjoying the torment they were causing among those on the ground.”
Arch Mage Gresham sighed. “I see why you say it was fortunate. Had the dragons not appeared when they did, our forces would surely have been decimated.”
The lieutenant nodded. “Yes. We may not be so fortunate the next time. The reports on casualties confirm that the dragons killed more enemies than allies. But our losses were also great. This particular battle was a draw. No one came out ahead, except the dragons.”
“Were no dragons shot down?” asked one arch mage.
Holden nodded. “Yes. There was one dragon shot down by lizardmages. It landed in the pass and crushed a number of orcs in the process. At least two other dragons were injured but they flew away from the battle.”
“Our forces will have to regroup quickly, in case our enemies decide to press their attack, now that we are on our heels,” commented Toele.
“We’re in a defensive stance right now,” said Holden. “The clerics are frantically tending to the injured, and those who are able are manning the defenses. But I’m sure the enemy has their hands full with injuries as well. I don’t see them attacking any time soon.”
Spirit Blade: Book III of the Dragon Mage Trilogy Page 13
