Sytravious: The Lost Warlock Of Moruz (The Oathbreaker Book 1)

by Acevedo, E. B.

  “Young lady!” He snatched it back from her. “What do you think you are doing?”

  She frowned in disappointment. “Oh, I thought I was going to get to use it.”

  Vienken wrapped the handle’s leather strap around his wrist to secure his grip, before going through the motions of swinging the weapon.

  “My dear, if you had been listening earlier, you would have heard me say I need to first demonstrate the technique.” He raised his eyebrows while he reprimanded her.

  “Right, sorry.”

  “Moving on. As you have probably gathered, this is a war hammer forged for magical use because not all of us are blessed in the way you and the Her Holiness are. Priests, such as myself, cannot fully activate Vesalys’ power using sheer will alone. For that reason, we rely on different tools to aid us in channeling and amplifying our goddess’ strength.”

  He turned to face a row of practice dummies. At the sight of them, Raiven surveyed her surroundings. She had not even noticed the mannequins there, and knew she had truly been distracted by her earlier thoughts.

  “We will skip the rubbish and begin with a serious technique. Now, watch.”

  He held the hammer while he summoned a magical white glow that seemed to transfer into the hammer. The runes lit up in response to the holy power that filled the weapon and in one swift motion, he swung it back and ran at one of the dummies. He clenched his teeth and snarled when the weapon made contact with the target. Blue electricity flowed from the golden point, surrounding the wood, and scorched it without a sound until it dissipated to ash.

  He turned to Raiven with a satisfied grin and said, “I am a bit rusty, but you get the idea.”

  “A bit rusty?” She chuckled and dashed up to her instructor. “Can I try now?”

  “Young Priestess, it is understandable that you greet this art with enthusiasm, but combat magic can be very dangerous. The choices made while exercising such power must not be taken lightly.”

  “Yes Master Vienken, I understand.”

  He sighed and went on with the lecture, “In the past, the temple has used an ancient technique against our most powerful enemies. This is referred to as the hand of Vesalys. I have just showed you what the attack looks like coming from a priest like me. It is now time to show me what you can do.”

  The priestess knew she would have to beckon Vesalys from within, just as she had done for her healing spells countless times. Though the intent was different, Raiven was confident she could do it. She closed her eyes and started to concentrate. Behind her, she could hear her instructor guiding her through the motions.

  “Channel Vesalys’ strength that lives inside of you and focus it on the target. Control the magic with your mind and spirit. Use your hand as the outlet to release the attack on your enemy.”

  A tingling sensation traveled up her body, giving her goosebumps. She raised one hand above her head and waited. Raiven could feel the energy building up. When she opened her eyes, encircling her was a miraculous, pulsating blue electrical current. The electricity snapped and crackled with intensity. Enlivened by the force she had created, the priestess knew she was ready to attack. Her fierce eyes fixated on the practice target when she swung her arm down with determination and force.

  A blazing bolt of blue lightning cracked down from the sky, striking the ground in front of the dummies. In an instant, the electric energy sprouted from the ground, crawling up the wooden targets. She watched as the flashing current engulfed the bodies. Then with a thunderous bang, the dummies erupted into splinters that disintegrated into ash midair.

  Raiven raised her arms up to protect herself from the blast, but sensing the incident was over she relaxed. A few yards ahead, the ground was blackened. She stood immobile, awestruck by what had just taken place. Exhilaration overcame her, and she began to tremble.

  “Was that…?”

  “Yes, my dear that was the hand of Vesalys.” Vienken shuffled over to her side, chuckling uneasily. When she glanced down at him, he gave her a kind smile. “I did not expect it would come so easy to you. You made my demonstration look like child’s play.”

  The sounds of running disrupted their conversation. They both diverted their attention to the group of guardians that were barging into the garden. A tall young man with a full beard and sandy blonde hair was leading the unit. He was Bryce Duegar, Raiven’s personal guardian.

  “What was that? Is everyone alright?”

  “Yes Bryce, everyone is quite alright here. The priestess has just surprised us with her gifts, is all.”

  “Surprised us?” The guardian snorted in amusement before erupting into full on laughter. “More like terrified us, along with every other citizen in the vicinity. People will be thinking Vesalys is coming to strike them down.”

  With a wave of his hand, he excused the other guardians that had come with him, and continued to laugh. His jovial reaction was contagious. Raiven and Vienken joined in the merriment. This was the most enjoyment she had gotten from a lesson thus far. She was wiping tears from her eyes when she saw him approaching.

  “High Priest, Raiven, I need you to come with me at once,” Kenshiro ordered.

  “What for?” she asked.

  Ignoring the inquiry, her cousin exited the garden and headed in the direction of the castle. Vienken followed the general, with Raiven and Bryce in tow. The walk was a short and quiet one, with only the clicking heels of Kenshiro’s boots to break the silence.

  The group approached the dungeon entrance, an unfamiliar area to her. She knit her brow in concern. After many flights of stairs and dark, damp hallways, they stopped at a well-lit room. A smell reminiscent of decomposing animals she had encountered in the forest pervaded her nostrils. She stepped into the chamber, only to see several corpses lying on stone tables. A soft gasp escaped her lips, and her hand covered her mouth in horror.

  “This is the City Constable, Elric Duegar,” Kenshiro stated. His indifferent attitude led Raiven to believe her cousin wanted to hurry and get to the matter at hand. She studied the constable while he took a minute to inspect one of the corpses with his spectacle, before addressing them. Not one of his features led her to believe he was related to her escort, but the surname prompted her to ask, “Duegar?”

  “Yes Priestess, Duegar. And yes, that brute behind you is my little brother.”

  The man smiled at her. She could heard Bryce sniggering behind her as he stepped out of the room. Kenshiro’s arms were crossed, and lips pursed. The rapid tapping of his foot echoed in the room.

  “Good, great, wonderful. They are brothers. Can we get on with business now? Some of us have other matters to attend to,” Kenshiro said, “The constable insisted that you two aid him in this particular investigation.”

  “Of course, how may I help you, sir?” The old dwarf joined the constable in assessing the cadaver.

  “As you are all well aware, there was a commotion in the Foxfire Woods the other day. These are the casualties from whatever may have happened. There are five men total. Every one of them is missing the exact same section of the skin from their forearm. I do not know the meaning behind it, but I have ruled out womach attacks. I have determined four of them have been killed by a blade, while one shows no clear cause of death.”

  Raiven’s heart dropped and her stomach felt queasy. If she checked their faces, would she find Sytravious among the dead men? While they discussed the findings, she drifted around the room, studying the corpses’ faces. After examining the deceased, she let out a sigh of relief. She did not know these victims.

  “Priestess, if this is too much for you, I will not force you to stay,” the constable said.

  “Thank you for your consideration, sir. I am okay. Now what were you saying?”

  “I was saying if you look at his eyes, his sclera’s are bright red, which indicates some sort of trauma. Though as we can all see, there is none visible. I have also noted the cadaver gives off a faint smell of smoke, instead of decomposition.”

/>   As disgusted as she was, she found herself leaning in to inhale the scent. “So what does it mean?”

  Vienken now chimed in, “All these factors are presumptive indicators of an old type of magic. There is only way to be confirm our suspicions though. Constable?”

  The man grabbed a knife and pressed the tip into the cadaver’s chest until it pierced through. He proceeded to slice the corpse open until he was able to peel the skin on the chest back from the body. It did not take an expert to see the phenomenon that was laid out in front of them. Having seen the shock on their faces, Kenshiro stepped closer to see what was going on.

  “And there you have it, our worries have been substantiated,” the old priest stated. He squeezed his eyes tightly and shook his head in disbelief.

  The constable furrowed his brow in concern. “I do not understand. How can this be?”

  Raiven continued to gawk at the opened cadaver. Inside, all of the man’s organs were charred. She had never seen inside of a person’s body, but she knew it was not supposed to look like that. “What has happened to him?”

  “The victim has perished at the hands of a VanDrake,” Vienken stated.

  “VanDrake sorcery?” Kenshiro’s skepticism was evident in his voice. “That is impossible. Their bloodline was destroyed long ago. Constable, perhaps you should seek the aid of someone a little more knowledgeable.”

  The dwarf narrowed his eyes at the general. He picked up the constable’s knife and poked the blade into the scorched heart, causing it to collapse into a small pile of dust. “Only VanDrake magic could be the source of such repulsiveness.”

  “But Master Vienken, you taught me that Lord Byronicus VanDrake was indeed wiped out, along with his entire family, years ago.”

  “That is exactly why it is imperative that we figure out what has happened. If every VanDrake has perished, who is performing this type of sorcery?” The constable appeared to be very troubled by the mystery.

  Everybody in the chambers was quiet and deep in thought. She hoped to remember a piece of information that may be helpful to the investigation. Raiven stared at the floor while she was trying to recall all she had studied of the VanDrake’s of Moruz. In her peripheral vision, she noticed a glint of metal, which caught her eye. She stooped down and picked it up to further study the object. It was a small medallion laying in a heap of the victims’ clothes.

  “Look at this.” Raiven held up the object.

  “Where did you get that, my dear?” Vienken asked.

  “I just found it in this pile of clothes.”

  She dropped it into his palm so he could see it. He inspected it, and then handed it to the constable.

  “Priestess, this is a military coin one receives when they join the ranks of the Moruz’s forces. See here, this is the insignia of the First Legion of Moruz.” The constable pointed out the skull flanked by wings. “I was so preoccupied with this man’s cause of death that I did not search their personal effects.”

  He picked up their belongings and set them on an empty table. They had all began separating them, when she noticed a flash of color amongst the drab clothing. It was a small piece of a peach tinted garment. Believing it was an odd color for any of the victims to wear, she brought it to their attention. “No self-respecting soldier would be wearing this shade of fabric.”

  “That is true, Priestess. It does not seem to match any of their clothes. It is out of place here.” The constable took the cloth from her and the group continued to rummage through the items, but they were unable to find anything else of significance.

  “Excuse me, but as I stated earlier, some of us have other matters to attend to. We have stayed long enough. Let us leave Constable Duegar to his work.” Kenshiro marched out of the room.

  “Thank you for your assistance, I will be sure to keep everyone updated on the case.”

  Raiven waved to him as she exited the room behind her instructor. In order to help solve the mystery, she needed to know more.

  “Master Vienken, it is clear that the man back there has died due to dark magic, but why is it so obvious to you and the constable that it is VanDrake magic? Could it not have been any dark sorcerer’s work?”

  “My dear, you seem to only remember the fact the VanDrake’s blood line was extinguished, but you are not bearing in mind the other facts that apply to our situation. The origins of that family are what make their magic so discernable and unique.”

  “Would you please share the story with me?”

  “Of course, I would be happy to tell you the tale. Many ages ago, long before the people of Moruz were our enemies, King Daegon peacefully ruled the west. It all began one day when many concerned citizens approached the king with accounts of dragon sightings.”

  “Dragons?” she exclaimed.

  “Yes, though not very common, they have been seen throughout history. Wanting to ease the minds of his people, the new ruler vowed that his first great act as king would be to find the beast and rid the land of it, for nothing good would come of letting a dragon intrude on his kingdom.

  He rounded up a skilled hunting party and began the task of tracking the beast. Unfortunately, he had underestimated the power the dragon possessed. When they came upon the beast, the entire group of hunters were burnt to a crisp and the king was gravely injured. King Daegon thought he would be left for dead, but instead the dragon carried him to the top of Mount Oblis.”

  “It was there the dragon revealed her human form, a beautiful woman by the name of Nocturna VanDrake. She did him the favor of healing his wounds and caring for him until his health was restored. The king was taken by her beauty and was so enamored with her by then; he did not want to leave. He stayed in the mountain with her for weeks, where they fell in love with each other. Eventually, the king convinced Nocturna that he could persuade his citizens to accept her.”

  “Since she was unable to remain in her human form outside of Mount Oblis, she stayed behind as King Daegon returned to the city on a mission. The citizens rejoiced upon his arrival, as they all had believed him to be dead. He recounted his tale to them, so his story could be known and everyone would know to not to fear the Nocturna. Thenceforth, the kingdom returned to its peaceful rule under King Daegon.”

  “Over the following months, the king continued to visit the dragon in confidence and it is believed that she loved him so much, she transferred the precious gift of her own magical powers to him. From that day on, King Daegon had the power of the black flame.”

  “The king could not be more delighted, until one day a dragon was spotted terrorizing the lands and killing countless citizens. Men, women, and children all fell victim to the beast’s fire. The people of his kingdom begged him to slay the beast. King Daegon was torn because he could not bring himself to accept Nocturna would do such a thing, especially since she no longer possessed her magical flame. When the time came to order her execution, he refused and the council realized the extent of the king’s relationship with the dragon. They rebelled against King Daegon’s wishes by mobilizing thousands of soldiers to kill the beast. By the time the king had become aware of what was happening, it was too late.”

  “The soldiers had already climbed the mountain and killed the dragon. They had tortured her for days before murdering her, and not once did she ever fight back. Upon hearing the tragic news, King Daegon raced to Mount Oblis. When he saw her dead body, his heart shattered. He remained by her side, mourning her death, before returning to the kingdom months later. When he went back, it was apparent to everyone that he was not their same beloved king, but instead a brokenhearted man, raging with malice and hate, which he conveyed through his actions.”

  “That is how the dark ages of Moruz began, with King Daegon vowing revenge against his own people. In honor of Nocturna, the King took the surname VanDrake and built a castle at the base of Mount Oblis to commemorate his lost love. For the remainder of his reign, he terrorized his kingdom with the dragon’s black flame that had been given to him. For r
easons unknown to us, the black flame technique has been exclusively passed down from one VanDrake to another. We know this to be true because Lord Byronicus VanDrake was well known for this technique. Witnesses claim, when in combat, he would engulf his long sword or halberd in a spectacular black fire.”

  “You asked earlier how we are able to rule everyone else out and the answer is because of the signature indicators the magic leaves in its wake. The distinguishable clues are like no other; no clear cause of death, inflamed sclera’s, a smoky smell, and of course, inside everything is blackened. The victims appear to have suffered an excruciating death, having been charred from within.”

  Raiven stopped in front of the entrance to the temple and faced Vienken. Sorrow filled her golden eyes. “That is an awful story.”

  “I know it is upsetting, but it is a part of history and it is making its way into the present day. It is better to be knowledgeable than naïve, especially when it comes to matters like this.” Sensing her distress, he offered, “Would you like to call it a day? We have covered more than enough material for now.”

  “I would like that very much.” She bowed to Vienken, and then headed to her chambers.

  Chapter 9

  The Inn And The Dagger

  The Dew Drop Inn was never very busy, which is why Sytravious often did not care to show up for his apprenticeship. He was obstinate in his belief that he benefitted more as a thief than a smith. However, even with the extra money he was stealing, he began to feel guilty for leaving Nysight to manage the shop on his own. So today, he decided he would put aside his bad habit, and actually go to work.

  The inn appealed to many travelers because, in comparison to the rest of the area, it was warm and inviting. Once inside, he walked to the shop in the corner, which was labeled with no more than a sign of a hammer and anvil. He greeted Nysight and joined him in making horseshoes.