Bringers of Doom

Home > Other > Bringers of Doom > Page 4
Bringers of Doom Page 4

by Blake Arthur Peel


  My mind goes back to the day when Owyn threw a severed darkhound head at the Arch-magister to convince everyone of the coming attack. A small smile comes to my lips at the memory.

  It certainly shocked the people into action.

  “We should bring the bodies of the gorgons and darkhounds with us,” I reply coolly. Evoker Roth visibly blanches, obviously remembering the incident as well. “Elias made sure to gather the bodies of the demons they hunted and did not burn them. They should provide sufficient evidence that the threat is real.”

  Roth swallows, but nods his agreement. “Very well.”

  Satisfied, I continue. “We were accosted on the road by bandits when we first came to the Emberwood - not to mention the fact that there may be demons roaming about. Our numbers have been diminished... should we consider bringing more guards with us?”

  “Yes,” Roth replies, regaining his composure. “In fact, I’ve already spoken with the governor. They are willing to send with us half a dozen militiamen as a defense force to ensure we make it to the city safely. That should be more than enough to ensure that we are sufficiently protected.”

  I glance at the door, suddenly remembering that we are leaving tomorrow and that I have not even begun to start packing. “Is there anything that I can do to assist you, Magus?”

  Roth shakes his head. “No, initiate. Everything seems to be in order. I will send word to the rangers to begin loading the bodies into one of the empty carriages.” He turns to look out of the open window to the forested wilderness beyond. When he speaks next, his voice is oddly contemplative and distant.

  “The world is changing, Initiate Dennel. When we bring word of this attack to the Conclave, it is going to change everything.”

  Unsure of what to say, I simply remain quiet.

  He lets out a breath after a moment, then looks over his shoulder at me. “When you are raised to be a full mage, much more will be expected of you. You are a talented magic user, but in the coming days you will be stretched to your limits. Do everything you can to serve the realm.”

  Despite myself, a shiver runs up my spine at his words. I bow my head, and say, “Yes, Magus.”

  He looks back out the window and I depart, taking it as a dismissal. That conversation certainly took a foreboding turn, I think to myself as I step out into the hall. What does he mean that everything is going to change?

  Still pondering his words, I climb the stairs and make my way to the bedroom that has been mine for the past several weeks.

  The whole house smells of cooked meat as the kitchen staff prepares for lunch. My stomach grumbles but I ignore it, too focused on the monumental task of getting ready to leave Forest Hill by the morning.

  I close the door behind me and look over the disheveled mess that is my living quarters.

  Clothes lay scattered about haphazardly on the floor and furniture, some of them clean, some of them dirty, making it look like my wardrobe had exploded. The sheets on my bed are unmade and rumpled, and my nightstand is covered in odds and ends in an unorganized mess that any sane person would be unable to make sense of.

  This is a little embarrassing, I think as I survey the scene, wondering where I should begin. Getting myself ready to leave is probably going to take the rest of the day.

  Of all my many talents and skills, cleanliness is not one of them.

  Sighing to myself, I begin gathering up articles of clothing, picking them up and smelling them to determine whether or not they are clean. The clean ones I lay on my mattress, and the dirty ones I pile on the hardwood floor. It is not a perfect system, but it works for me. I do feel bad for the laundress, however. Judging by the size of the growing pile, she is going to have her work cut out for her.

  As I work my thoughts go back to my conversation with Evoker Roth, considering the implications of being raised to full mage after we arrive in Tarsys. As far as I know, I’ll be the youngest initiate to be raised to mage in living memory, I think as I pick up a pair of stockings. Wrinkling my nose at the smell, I toss them onto the pile of dirty clothes. I wonder what life will be like without having to attend lectures or study for tests.

  There was once a time when I dreamed about being raised to full mage. In fact, being the youngest mage at the Conclave had long been a goal of mine. But now that that dream is so close to becoming a reality, it scares me more than I care to admit.

  As a student, you are isolated from the outside world. Everything you are taught and everything you learn points to the wonders of being a magic user, and the grand possibilities such a life can create.

  It is very different seeing radiant magic put into practice.

  I shiver as I remember seeing magefyre burn a man alive, and the destruction and death these wonderful powers can inflict. Now that demons are starting to come through the Arc of Radiance, the prospect of being a mage becomes more daunting. I’m only eighteen years old for Light’s sake! How can I be expected to defend the kingdom?

  Evoker Roth’s words come unbidden to my mind – In the coming days you will be stretched to your limits. Do everything you can to serve the realm...

  My thoughts drift as I finish sorting my clothing. There were far more dirty clothes than clean ones strewn about. I really should be better at keeping my life organized.

  With the dirty clothing sorted, I shove the pile into a burlap bag the laundress had given me and leave it outside of my door. Hopefully they will be cleaned and folded in time for tomorrow.

  Looking around, I decide to get started on my nightstand.

  As I begin cleaning up my makeup containers I am reminded of Owyn, and the look he had given me as we were leaving the tent this morning.

  My face splits into a foolish grin.

  It seems that makeup isn’t useless after all, I think as I place lids on jars and begin cleaning off the little brush for my eyeliner.

  Flirting has never been a strength of mine, but it seems that with a little bit of makeup the task becomes much easier.

  Truth be told, I’m not entirely sure where things sit between Owyn and I. When we first met, I thought that he was some uncultured backwoods farm boy, and in a lot of ways I suppose he still is. But somewhere during our mad adventure I had developed something of a fondness for him. His quiet, earnest demeanor is refreshing to me, and his skills with fighting and ranging are something to be admired.

  Plus, I think to myself wryly, he isn’t bad to look at. In a flash, I remember that day I saw him with his shirt off and it causes my cheeks to flush with heat.

  Shaking my head, I scoop the last of my makeup and powders into a satchel and go to place them in a compartment in my trunk.

  I truly am glad that he will be coming with us to Tarsys, though. I enjoy our conversations, and the thought of saying goodbye to him right now is too painful to even consider. He is one of the few friends I have ever had, and I would hate to lose him now that my life is becoming so complicated.

  My stomach grumbles again, and I am reminded that lunch is most likely ready downstairs. Just like that I am shaken from my thoughts, and I begin making my way to the bedroom door.

  I give one final look over my shoulder at my still-messy room before leaving, noting that it will probably still take me several hours to clean, pack, and organize myself for the journey home.

  Home, I think to myself glumly as I close the door behind me and begin walking down the hall. Is Tarsys even my home anymore? In the weeks I have spent in Forest Hill, I have made friends, experienced the harsh realities of war, and learned things about myself I never thought I would learn. Honestly, this little town feels more like home than my little dormitory at the Academy ever did.

  And now I am leaving it behind.

  I can smell the aroma of food from the kitchens and my mouth begins to water, overwhelming the dull sense of loss I feel. I quickly descend the wooden staircase and begin traversing the labyrinth of hallways to find the dining room. As I do, my thoughts go back to Owyn and upcoming journey we will embar
k on together.

  There is so much uncertainty in the future, I think as I finally reach the dining room and the milling crowd of people arriving to eat. But as long as we are together, I will be happy.

  I line up behind the others and begin preparing myself for lunch.

  Chapter Five

  Owyn

  The sun rises on the Emberwood, bathing the expanse of trees in an orange light and gradually brightening the dark, purple sky.

  I let out a jaw-popping yawn as I sit astride my gelding, waiting outside the governor's mansion with my cloak wrapped tightly around me. Though it is technically still summer, the early morning air has taken up the chill of autumn, and I can see my breath misting in front of my face as my yawn reaches its end.

  Few have turned out this morning to say farewell.

  I can't say that I blame them, I think to myself, blinking my eyes furiously in an attempt to wake myself up. If I had a choice in the matter, I'd still be asleep! Without a master to watch over me, perhaps I will have more opportunities to sleep past dawn.

  The thought makes me feel suddenly guilty, like a sour pit in my stomach as I think of Elias. He has barely been gone a day and already I am contriving ways to forget my training. Some ranger you are, I think bitterly as I shift in my saddle, leather creaking as I adjust my position. Sleep is not important. Be more like Elias! I don't think I've ever seen the man get tired in the time that I have known him.

  Trying to ignore my burning eyes, I glance around to take stock of the situation around me.

  Carriages have been lined up in front of the governor's mansion, the same black-lacquered vehicles that the mages had arrived in. Servants are busy loading them up with their personal belongings, and the horses are being bridled and prepared for the long journey back to Tarsys. The governor, as well as a handful of the town's most prominent citizens, stand in front of the manor, speaking with the remaining mages and no doubt wishing them safe travels as they depart.

  My own belongings are already with me, packed away in the saddlebags and strapped to my gelding. Aside from my father's hatchet I don't really have much of worth. A small bag of coins, a few sets of clothes, some provisions. The life of a ranger is a migratory one, and if my time with Elias has taught me anything, it is that you have to be ready to leave at a moment's notice.

  Packing everything up took hardly any time at all.

  I watch as Zara breaks away from the group of mages and approaches me, her eyes tired but her face split into a wide grin.

  "Good morning," she says cheerfully, stepping up to my gelding and placing a hand on his neck.

  "Morning," I reply, forcing a smile at her. It doesn't feel very convincing.

  "You seem chipper this morning," she replies sarcastically, glancing around as if looking for something. "Where is Elias? I know the other mages want to be off soon."

  "He isn't coming."

  She looks up at me sharply, her expression openly shocked. "He's not coming? Why?"

  I shrug my shoulders. "I'm not sure. He told me yesterday after the meeting we had. He seemed... strange. Said that there was something that he needed to do. Then he left." I try to sound emotionless, but I can tell that it comes out sounding a little agitated.

  Zara frowns. "That doesn't make sense," she says, her face twisting into a look of puzzlement. "What could be more important than informing the Conclave about the demons?"

  I shrug again, looking away at the vast expanse of forest surrounding Forest Hill. The sun was starting to peak over the eastern horizon, brightening the landscape in a brilliant golden glow. "It had to have been something urgent," I reply after a moment. "Otherwise he would be coming with us."

  "I suppose," Zara says, sounding unconvinced. "Anyway, I've come to tell you that I've decided to ride with you out of town."

  Now it is my turn to look shocked. I turn back to look at her, eyebrows shooting up. "Ride? With me? But Zara, you hate horses."

  She takes a step back from my gelding and crinkles her nose at me. "I don't hate them, I just... respect them for the dangerous beasts that they are. Besides, I've been practicing. And I don't want to be cooped up in one of those carriages for three days. I'd rather be outside, breathing the fresh air."

  As we speak a stable boy brings over a placid-looking roan with an ornately made saddle, its coat neatly brushed and its mane as black as midnight. He hands the reins over to Zara before hurrying off to attend to another chore.

  "A gift from the governor and his family," she says matter-of-factly, petting the horse's mane and glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. "I've been practicing with her every day for the past two weeks, and she and I have formed something of a bond together."

  "I see," I say in reply, trying not to snicker as the roan nips at her, eliciting a squeak of alarm.

  She flashes me a scowl and my smile no longer feels forced. I watch as she steps around the horse and attempts to climb into the saddle. "Need any help?" I offer in a neutral voice.

  "No," she replies, grunting as she places a doeskin traveling boot into the stirrup and reaches up to the saddle. "I am perfectly capable of doing this myself."

  It takes her a couple of tries, but eventually she manages to pull herself up into the saddle. She looks over at me triumphantly and I bring my hands up, clapping softly in mock adoration. She sticks her tongue out at me and guides her horse over to the carriages.

  I follow her, seeing that the mages are all starting to load into the carriages.

  "Safe travels, Magi!" Governor Prior calls out to the departing mages. He lifts up one of his meaty hands and waves, his bald head sweating even in the cool morning air. "Each and every one of you will always be welcome back to Forest Hill. Thank you all for your service!"

  With a groaning of axles and the clop of horses' hooves, the carriages pull away from the governor's mansion and begin making their way down the hill. Zara and I ride our horses near the rear of the caravan, along with a couple of the guards who had been tasked to accompany us all to the capital, and begin the trip in silence, watching quietly as the sleepy town of Forest Hill slips us by.

  By this point the sun has fully risen, and townsfolk are starting to stir, waking up for their morning chores and leaving their houses one by one.

  Many of them stop at watch as the train of carriages rolls past, staring almost reverently at the people who had rescued them from certain death.

  I feel a mix of emotions as I watch the town go by. Forest Hill has been my home for much of my training, and I have grown rather fond of the people and the rustic buildings of this woodland province. As we reach the bottom of the hill I find that the feelings of abandonment have washed back over me, reminding me that Elias has left me to fend for myself for the foreseeable future.

  Will I ever see this town again? Will I ever see Elias again? The thoughts consume me and I fall into a brooding silence.

  Zara seems to notice my malaise as our caravan begins to pull into the forest, leaving the town and the rising sun behind us. She pulls her horse up close to me and attempts to start up a conversation. "So, you've really never been to Tarsys?"

  I shake my head, keeping my eyes forward on the road.

  "Well, I think that you're going to like it," she says cheerily. "There is nothing quite like it in the entire kingdom."

  After waiting for a moment and realizing that there is no response forthcoming, she continues. "It's the most cosmopolitan city in Tarsynium. Green Harbor is known for its fish, of course; Yarrin for its works of metal, and Acacia for its silk. But Tarsys has it all. Any sort of food, any sort of style or taste. It's all there. It truly is the center of the world."

  I glance over at her before looking back at the road. "It sounds great," I reply half-heartedly.

  "Oh, it is, Owyn!" I can practically hear the smile in her voice. "I really think that you are going to like it. So many people all in one place, the libraries, and the towers. The towers, Owyn! You've never seen anything like the great t
owers. And the Pillar of Radiance is the greatest of them all."

  I pause for a moment before replying. "That all sounds overwhelming. I've never really been one for crowds. The big city doesn't really seem like a fitting place for a ranger."

  "We'll see about that," she responds confidently. "I think that when you give Tarsys a chance, it will really grow on you."

  I snort and she gives me a sidelong glance. "You make it seem like this city is the best place in the world."

  "Well," she says, a little defensively, "it has been my home for the past five years."

  "Yes, but what does a city have that you can't get any other place?" She raises an eyebrow at me, as if wondering whether or not I heard all of the evidence she had laid out just moments before. I continue. "A city doesn't have space to ride horses. A city doesn't have trees or wide-open spaces. Hells, Zara, a city doesn't have any of the things that a ranger needs to do his job!"

  "Rangers are needed in every part of the kingdom," she replies derisively. "City or no city."

  "Tarsys is no place for a ranger's apprentice," I insist, my tone becoming more heated. "I should be out here, learning my craft, not playing lackey to a bunch of sniveling nobles and mages. There could be more demons out in the wilderness, for all we know!"

  She pauses for an instant before responding. "Be that as it may, we need the nobles, and the mages for that matter. You heard Elias, we all need to work together if we want to have a chance at succeeding. As a mage, my place is at the Conclave, trying to help them solve the problems with the Arc of Radiance."

  "You're not a mage, yet," I mutter under my breath, though it is perhaps louder and more biting than I intended.

  She looks at me for a moment, her expression hurt, before kicking her heels into her roan and riding off ahead of me, leaving me alone at the rear of the caravan.

  I settle back into my black mood as she rides away, the rhythmic clopping of my horse's hooves filling my ears along with the sounds of the waking forest. What's her problem? I think to myself as I watch her disappear ahead. Can't she see that this is difficult for me?

 

‹ Prev