Magic's Genesis- Sword of Wilmamen

by Rosaire Bushey

  “Welcome to you all.” Ilyadra was intent on the movement in front of her and leaned in to Lydria. “What we witness now is the movement of Dar’Ahlmon’s forces, wielder. There have been rumors that a man from the north, with beasts unheard of by his side, has somehow enlisted the help of the petty forest vermin who make their lives off the destruction and death of others. The Dynast of Dar’Ahlmon, of course, cannot let such aggression go unchecked. This caravan before us is the second such movement of soldiers and equipment. The first, a much smaller force than this, moved to the north. Those who travel south must believe they go to attack a strong enemy.”

  “Do they?” Lydria was comforted by Ilyadra’s portrayal of the Qorghal, and intrigued by her intelligence, but she was unsure of her allegiances and motives.

  Ilyadra laughed lightly and smiled. “We have always been told northerners were overly trusting. I have now met several of you and will disavow such tales should they be told near me again.” The woman smiled at Lydria and took her hand, pointing with her left to the rear of the train. “The soldiers of Dar’Ahlmon travel lightly without armor,” she explained. “It is too hot in the desert to wear metal unless you are within sight of your enemy. To the front, far beyond the column we see now, there are patrols who ride out and send runners to and from the commander at the head of the column. If a certain period passes without a runner, then the commander will order his soldiers to don armor and prepare for battle.”

  Relin had peaked in between the two women and listened with great interest to Ilyadra’s description of tactics. “What if the runner is delayed?”

  “Occasionally, it happens,” Ilyadra replied. “But it only happens once. If the commander orders armor to be worn, they will not rescind the order until it is time to stop for the evening. The logistics involved in equipping and unequipping so many take a long time. Sometimes the commander will have the runner executed on the spot, but more often they will make the runner run amongst the soldiers who must carry the extra weight under the hot sun. The soldiers take out their grievances directly with the runner.”

  Ilyadra motioned to her company and requested Lydria and the others to follow them down to Duzmet. There they were fed and shown rooms where they could rest. “You will not stay long, wielder, though we would be honored to have you. The soldiers we witnessed are on their way to the southern coast, which is where you, too, must go. There will be others there – your friends included.”

  At the mention of her friends Lydria’s eyes opened wide and she inhaled, preparing to ask questions but interrupted by the raised hand of Ilyadra. “Your friends are with one of our best agents who works within the very palace of the Dynast of Dar’Ahlmon. They are safe and will almost certainly remain so in the presence of our agent.” Ilyadra spent several minutes explaining the state of the people of Duzmet, and how it was their goal to rejoin Dar’Ahlmon society as equals. Their agent, she said, was key to that happy union taking place, and the movement of soldiers across the desert was the sign they had been waiting for. “So long as our agent and your friends trust each other, the soldiers of Dar’Ahlmon will rid us of the vermin killers, and the major obstacles to the freedom of the Dar’Duz.

  Lydria and the others were glad their friends were alive and that they were safe, but they were unsure the goals of Ilyadra were the same as their own.

  “Ilyadra, you think northerners are not trusting. Please, spare us a moment and let me tell you that your quest and goals, while noble, are not our own. Beyond the Qorghal, the vermin you speak of, there is a greater danger for all of Eigrae.”

  With Ilyadra’s attention, Lydria told the leader of the Dar’Duz of Wynter, the Sword of Wilmamen, and the threat of the Nethyn Plains.

  Codex of the Prime Wielder

  Transferring Stones of Power

  How can Stones of Power be transferred?

  We know part of the answer to this question. When she fought Wynter in the Cobalt Tower, Lydria did not kill the wielder, but defeated him with magic. Instead of killing him on the spot, Lydria chose to remove Wynter’s collar using a Farn’Nethyn blade. While these weapons are exceedingly rare, the Eifen tell stories of a city far to the west where the Eifen of old created and have stored a small armory of such weapons. Alas, it is thought that only the Eifen have the secret that allows them mastery of the skill required to craft such weapons. As we are aware of no Farn’Nethyn deposits east of the Great River Lang’Al; then the ability to remove a collar comes down to ultimately killing its possessor.

  After defeating Wynter, and using the Farn’Nethyn blade to remove his collar, the Stone of Power fell to the ground, having regained its shape as a small sphere. It was then picked up by Lydria and added to what we call the Prime Stone – the sphere that contains all the unattached stones of the original thirty.

  Grettune

  33 - Reunion

  When Lydria and her friends left Duzmet early the next morning, a small company of Dar’Duz followed a half-day’s ride behind. At Ilyadra’s insistence, they took a path along the top of the flat hilltop, following it as it made its way toward the southern coast. After two days the line of hills curved to the southwest, and Lydria made the decision to climb down and take the desert floor, following the lessening cloud of dust. It wouldn’t be long before the army stopped and took up positions as they prepared for battle and so Kimi lopped ahead to scout the baggage train of the army, careful to stay low to the ground and hidden from view.

  It was early in the morning of the third day when Kimi found Lydria and the others having recently left their camp while it was still dark and cool. “They have stopped, and their forces prepare. The wagons at the back are nearly empty now and few soldiers stand guard. Their interest lies to the front.”

  “Ilyadra suggested that when the army stopped, we should move to the east and then south, skirting the army, and meeting with her agent, Grettune, Perryn, and Krieger. Let us do that now.” Lydria felt the excitement of the others as they thought about seeing their friends again.

  After walking for hours through the heat of the day toward the east, masking their movement by magic, they began to turn south in the afternoon, toward the coast. Throughout the day they watched the skies where the desert army lay and were glad to see no flocks of birds gathered, and no smoke. By early evening that changed, and they could clearly see a thick haze rising from the horizon, the wind pushing smoke and dust toward the shore. Birds had come as well, circling several miles away indicating battle had started and men were dying on the sand.

  Determined to find Grettune and the others, Lydria pushed on after the sun had set, and by late evening she was rewarded by Kimi’s voice, “Lydria! They are ahead in a small camp. There are two guards.”

  Lydria told the others and ordered Kimi to stand fast. “I will go first.”

  Putting a magical shield around herself, Lydria made sure her neck was clear of obstruction, so the faint blue glow would not be missed if the guards were excitable.

  As she approached the campsite Lydria was surprised when the guard spoke to her openly from several dozen paces away, and even more surprised when she recognized the figure as Perryn. He seemed taller, stronger than he had when they had parted at the lake. “Welcome, Lydria. If the others are with you, please have them hurry, we have been hoping you might find us.”

  ** *** **

  The reunion with Lydria and her friends was intense but brief. The introduction of the Dynast Rykaba took them all by surprise, and they made their plans to follow the army to the shore the following day, hoping to infiltrate Wynter’s position as part of a mass of soldiers who would have to make the short crossing between the mainland and the island.

  “The island fortress of Ep’Muta is built for coastal defense,” Rykaba said. “It has long range siege weapons and approaching from the water will be hazardous if Wynter can convince the soldiers there to fight.”

  Lydria looked at the Dynast and the others and her eyes told the young ruler that Wynter
did have ways he could make people fight. “The siege weapons will be dangerous, but your eminence may not be aware that Wynter has two far more powerful weapons by his side. Two green dragons that cannot be dismissed. Indeed, even with four wielders among us, only one man has ever successfully fought a dragon and lived – and that dragon was newborn.”

  “In any event,” Krieger added, “we go tomorrow to a fight the likes of which none of us have ever encountered. What we can do best is rest and prepare ourselves. Our tactics will be made as military tactics are always made – in the saddle minutes before attacking.” Krieger was correct, Lydria knew, trying to plan against the unknown was fruitless. Rest would be far more important, but she still let Grettune take her away to speak privately before retiring.

  They were up before the sun the next day. The tedious and time-consuming task of packing the tents was accomplished in an instant to the joy of the guards who would have had to do the work. Camels saddled, they mounted and moved south, keeping the edge of Rykaba’s army just within sight. By the middle of morning they began to hear battle, and smell the burning mixed with the blood. Even in the desert where there was little fuel, battle always brought fire. Making their way closer behind magical screens that would make them all be invisible to those fighting, they saw the Qorghal engaged in vicious hand-to-hand combat with the leading vanguard of Dar’Ahlmon’s army. Arrows flew from mounted camel archers and the Qorghal fell by the dozens, but still they came on.

  Rykaba pointed out Ha’quin, his armor a red gold that blazed in the sun, picking him out for his soldiers to be inspired by his leadership. Nearby, black flags emblazoned with golden letters and symbols waved frantically from positions at either side of the column.

  “The flag wavers relay orders from Ha’quin and the smaller units respond to those orders. In this way, one commander may control the field.” Despite his dislike of Ha’quin, Rykaba sounded genuinely impressed by the man’s abilities in the field. “It’s too bad he won’t make it to the end of the day.” Any softness Lydria thought the young dynast felt for Ha’quin was quashed. His words were dry and without remorse or empathy.

  “Look, wielder, do you see the camel archer there?” He pointed to the rear rank of archers where a soldier sat upon a wooden frame that overlooked the field, giving direction to the mass of archers in front. As she watched, Lydria saw the archer pull back a bow unlike any in the dynast’s army. While the archers she commanded shot high-arching shots that fell amongst the qorghal, she aimed lower and a moment later, the red-gold figure of Ha’quin fell, a small fountain of blood from his neck soaking those pages and members of his staff who stood near him.

  “Those who are near the commander, will likely be killed as well,” the Dynast explained. “Although not by any doing of mine. They are not soldiers, and they will panic. The sub-commanders will force weapons into their hands and herd them forward – to the very front. It is always so.”

  “How long will we stand here watching this before we do something?” Lydria’s tone was on edge, she was ready to be involved, to stop the fighting and do to Wynter what she should have done in the Cobalt Tower. “While we waste our time watching your army get killed, we need to get to the island so that we may kill one man. Then this all stops.”

  “No, it does not.” The voice was Krieger’s and his voice was gentle as he slid between the Dynast and Lydria. “The Qorghal will not stop and even now they are pulling back to the island – meaning the army and all of us, must continue to fight them as we try to find Wynter. This is not the one-on-one battle of the Cobalt Tower, Lydria. This is war, albeit small and limited, but war, nonetheless. You father knew this. You know this.”

  Lydria looked at Krieger with something like exasperation and drew a deep breath that she let out sharply. “Fine, then let’s move forward and do something.” And in moments four wielders walked toward the beach, the army still to their right. Grettune provided shielding for the three others who bent their will toward creating an invisible barrier in front of the qorghal. At Lydria’s command, Hokra reached into the ground and the wall moved backward, pushing the Qorghal toward the sea.

  Relin and Krieger flanked the dynast while his own guards stood to the side, wide-mouthed in disbelief. “Magic, your eminence, cannot be used to kill. At least, we have reason to believe that to be the case. The barrier they create, does not technically kill the Qorghal in and of itself, it merely pushes them back. If they can swim, they will survive. If they cannot…still, it is not the magic that causes death. It is The Grey at work in its most manifest form.”

  If the Dynast wondered what ‘The Grey’ was, he did not ask. He was excited and terrified by the sudden change in direction of the campaign. His soldiers stood still for a moment before letting loose a scream, charging forward to hack at the confused Qorghal and drive them deeper and faster to their watery graves.

  With their eyes focused on the Qorghal’s retreat, Rykaba and the two northerners were caught by surprise as blasts of fire ripped through the front and center of the advancing column of Ahlmen, cutting off those in the middle and creating chaos as the army tried to make sense of what had happened. Seconds after the fire erupted in the lines, the soldiers of Dar’Ahlmon and the Qorghal fell to their knees, dropping their weapons and covering their ears as the air exploded in a savage noise never heard before. Lydria and the wielders lay on the ground as well, and Kimi burrowed his head between Krieger’s torso and the ground.

  The dragons had come to fight.

  34 - Healing

  Two green dragons had each come to the fight from the east and west, decimating the Ahlmen lines with gigantic gouts of fire that stuck where it landed and burned what it touched. Soldiers panicked, running past their enemies and toward the water, rolling in the sand, and all sense of order was lost. The roar of the dragons was the only thing that kept the army from fleeing the field, as the soldiers fell to the ground, many becoming ill or losing control of their bodies as the noise shook their insides. As the noise faded, the two dragons flew to Ep’Muta while the army reorganized itself and the Qorghal hastened their retreat from the beach.

  “Tell me, Emissary Krieger, does Wesolk have dragons such as these in your army?” The Dynast was pale. He wiped bile from his chin, kicking dust over the vomit by his feet. His eyes searched Krieger’s for truth.

  “There are a number of dragons who live within the borders of Wesolk,” your eminence. “But no one, not even a wielder, would be so bold as to claim ownership of a dragon. They are intelligent creatures and do what they do for their own reasons.” Krieger could see the Dynast was not satisfied with the answer, his head tilted to one side, as if asking for an explanation of what they had witnessed. “Wynter is playing a dangerous game with the dragons, Rykaba,” Krieger said, returning to the less formal first name the ruler had asked him to use. “We believe Wynter offers the dragons something they want, but that he cannot provide. When they discover this, they will take their own justice upon him.”

  “That is fine, and I hope true,” Rykaba said, his voice still low and hushed, “but until that time, I cannot allow my army to cross the water to continue this attack.”

  Krieger nodded slowly, and Relin joined him in speaking to the dynast. They both knew how difficult it was to gather men to attack a fortified position. To ask them to do it under the threat of dragon fire and dragon-voice would be asking them to commit suicide. “We understand, your eminence,” Krieger said, offering a slight bow. “If I may be so bold; if it is your intent to take command of your troops, this would be an ideal time. You may tell them the wielders of the north will go forward and give them our thanks for their heroic efforts against the Qorghal. The mettle of your countrymen was well on display today, and I think Wesolk and Dar’Ahlmon will be closer for it.”

  Rykaba smiled and shook Krieger and Relin by the hand, straightening up as much as was possible, and calling for his servant to bring his armor and a camel. “I will ride to my people and then I will le
ad them – by joining you as you move to the island. While I will not ask the army to do so, it serves my purpose well to be seen doing it myself.”

  “Who will be in command of your forces?” Relin was caught off guard by the Dynast’s plan to join them on the island, but he was certain the young man would not be refused.

  “Ilyadra of the Dar’Duz should be on the western flank of the army. When I ride out, she and her people – our people – will come and I will make her commander in Ha’quin’s place. For now, my friends, go to the beach, find the wielders, and make your preparations. At dusk I will come to you and we will begin across the water.”

  It took several minutes for the dynast’s movement across the desert to be recognized by the disorganized soldiers on the field, but when they did, it was as if they had never broken formation. The Dynast of Dar’Ahlmon taking the field of battle was something that had only happened centuries ago during the reigns of the first Dynasts. Unlike Wesolk, where kings were expected to lead troops, the desert kingdom’s traditions were different, and for the dynast to be in armor, was a great honor for the assembled soldiers.

  Krieger and Relin didn’t spend long watching the Dynast move across the desert before they began to move themselves. At the beach, the four wielders and Kimi were recovering from the shock of the dragon-voice and the effort they spent in making and moving the wall was visible on all of them, even Hokra whose left eye was swollen shut. Grettune seemed tired but not visibly scarred by the effort.

  “Is the Dynast well?” Lydria asked upon seeing Krieger and Relin.

  “He is. Even now he has taken the field and is rallying the troops of Dar’Ahlmon.”

  “I must go to him.” Lydria got up as if to start walking toward the center of the gathered army and stopped to answer the questioning looks of her friends. “Synca comes and she will join us. We must make sure the Ahlmen do not fire upon her. As emissary, Krieger, it would be good if you joined me.”