by Gregory Heal
“So this ring must be more than just a family heirloom,” Jen surmised. She was learning as much, but she wanted to hear it from one of the most knowledgeable sorcerers.
“It most definitely is, my dear. It is the legendary ring forged by your ancestor Genevieve.” He paused before asking, “May I take a closer look at it?”
Cindergray’s genuine interest made Jen’s reluctance fade away, and she went to unclasp her necklace. Victor watched as Jen stood up and gave the Ring of Lancaster to the Grand Mystra.
With appreciation in his eyes, he took the ring and silently stared at it for several seconds. Before he gave it back to Jen, he tightly squeezed it in his palm and looked away, clearing his throat. “This is a legendary ring, and if an old man with poor eyesight like myself can detect it, I’m willing to bargain that the rest of the Elders have noticed it too.” A grimace took over his face.
“We don’t have any conclusive evidence to support that the Elder Synod aren’t in some way involved with the Dark Watchers,” Victor realized, picking up on Cindergray’s insinuation.
Jen looked between the two sorcerers, trying to keep up.
“Thank you, Jennifer,” he said. He put on a warm tone as he leaned over his desk and pressed the ring in her palm.
“You’re welcome, sir.” Jen accepted her heirloom back and replaced it on her neck.
After a few seconds of tense silence, Cindergray stood to his full height and addressed Victor. “She needs to train on Camelore.”
Victor nodded. “I was about to suggest that. She will be the safest there.”
Jen knotted her eyebrows and cocked her head to the side. “Camelore? Where’s that, and what’s wrong with training here?”
Victor was the first to respond. “Camelore is the home base for the League of Light. Completely guarded, and its location is untraceable, making it impossible for any Dark Watcher to discover it.”
Cindergray pursed his lips before answering the second part of Jen’s question. “Your safety is paramount. The Dark Watchers are more desperate than ever now that they know you’re alive, and I won’t risk you falling prey to another Dark Watcher while you’re on Watercress grounds. They’ll stop at nothing until they can use the ring to free Lord Ferox from the Halostone.”
“Well, it’s a good thing that the Halostone is safe, right?” Jen said. When Cindergray and Victor didn’t reassure her, she shot up off the chair and asked, “Wait—is the Halostone lost?”
All along, she’d assumed that the Halostone was kept under lock and key, but deep in her gut she realized that had been a naïve fantasy. Jen desperately looked at Cindergray and Victor, waiting for them to deny it, but all they did was nod their heads.
“I’m not sure how much Victor has told you, but after your ancestor Mystra Genevieve sacrificed herself to trap Lord Ferox in the Halostone,” Grand Mystra Cindergray explained, his expression somber, “her younger sister, Gwendolyn, vowed to protect it at any cost, making your family its sole guardian. Over the ensuing centuries, the Halostone was passed down from one Lancaster to another, all the while being tirelessly tracked by Dark Watchers, eager to steal it. As time went on and the Halostone continued to change hands, it inexplicably disappeared. This was about five hundred years ago.” Cindergray paused, choosing his words carefully. “Until about twenty years ago, when its location was ascertained by two very gifted sorcerers.”
“Did they bring it back here to Watercress?” Jen asked eagerly.
“They kept the location to themselves, since it was too dangerous to risk leaking that information to the wrong person. Unfortunately, they disappeared on their way to retrieve it,” Cindergray replied, “before putting their daughter in hiding.”
Jen’s throat tightened as she realized what Cindergray was saying.
“Jennifer, the sorcerers who found the whereabouts of the Halostone were your biological parents,” he said. “It lived—and died—with them.”
Like another puzzle piece falling into place, it suddenly became clear why Jen’s biological parents had let another couple raise her. They had been on the verge of reclaiming the most sought-after and dangerous relic in the world—or in any realm, for that matter.
They had to, she realized, for me . . . for everyone.
Ever since her father had told her that she was adopted, Jen had wrestled with why she had been given up; now it became clear. Her real parents had loved her so much that they had risked valuable time to ensure that their daughter would be safe.
An important question suddenly occurred to her. “How . . . how did they die?”
“Protecting the one thing they valued most.” Cindergray pointed at Jen, smiling sadly. “Once word of their disappearance reached the League of Light, we spent the next year tirelessly searching for them, until Victor followed a lead to Ocuul, a far-distant realm. There, he found a colony of Dark Watchers enslaving natives to search for the Halostone.”
Jen gasped, horrified.
Victor picked up the story. “After a stakeout that lasted a couple of days, I sent for my strike team. What ensued was a violent skirmish, and as we pushed deeper into their base, I discovered your parents in a protected bunker. They were being tortured, forced to give any clues to the Halostone’s location, but your parents were strong. They hadn’t given the Watchers anything of value.”
Jen could tell Victor truly admired her parents; it was clear in the way he spoke of them. She wished even more then to have known them.
“Between their ineffective torture methods and our surprise ambush, the Dark Watchers were running out of time . . .” Victor trailed off. He looked away from Jen and took a deep breath. “So Draconex gave the command to destroy the base.”
Jen’s heart sunk lower than ever before. She had an aching feeling that she knew how the story was going to end.
“One of my agents intercepted the call, so we knew how long we had. Instead of taking over the Dark Watchers’ Ocuul base, our objective changed to rescuing your parents,” Victor recalled, a far-off quality to his voice. “We made it to their bunker, but there were too many warding spells and not enough time to break them out before the base exploded.”
Victor reached over and held her hand.
“They told me to run so I could fight another day . . . and that they loved you with all their hearts.”
Victor’s eyes had gone misty; Jen was already past that stage, and her flushed cheeks were streaked with tears.
“Our hearts ache telling you this, my dear,” Cindergray said.
Victor let go of Jen’s hand so she could wipe the tears away, still holding onto the orb with her other.
“No, uh . . . ahem.” She cleared her throat. “Thank you for telling me. I needed to hear it.”
“They live through you, Jennifer,” Cindergray said warmly. “That’s what they wanted more than anything.”
Jen’s spirits were slightly lifted, even if it didn’t bring her birth parents back.
After she was sure her emotions were more stable, she asked, “How can we find the Halostone before the Dark Watchers?”
Cindergray exchanged a look with Victor, then said, “I need to show you something.”
“Show me what?” Jen nervously juggled the orb in her hands.
It has to do with the Halostone . . . right? Or something else my birth parents left me?
After hearing that her parents were lost in an explosion on another planet, she knew they were gone forever . . . but a small part of her did not want to give up hope. If anything, their sacrifice motivated Jen to find the Halostone even more.
She walked to the front of the hand-carved desk while Cindergray, on the other side, turned one of his drawer’s knobs twice. A soft rumble vibrated the floor, and Jen curiously craned her neck to look over the desk. To her amazement, a secret staircase had sunk into the floor, leading to a subterranean chamber.
“What I’m about to show you is extremely sensitive. Nary a word should be spoken about this place,” Ci
ndergray declared as he began to descend the staircase.
Victor motioned for Jen to follow the Grand Mystra. “This is only meant for you, Jen. I’ll be back in the courtyard tending to Skarmor.”
“Okay . . . I’ll see you soon?” Jen waved at Victor as he left the office. Cupping her orb in her left hand, she turned around and followed Cindergray down into a surprisingly wide and tall corridor lined with lit candles on rusted iron sconces.
For the next several minutes, she walked in silence behind the distinguished sorcerer as they went deeper and deeper into the bowels of Watercress Castle, sometimes turning down a new corridor, sometimes descending another set of stairs. Jen was soon completely lost, knowing that she would be unable to confidently trace back her steps if she ever found herself alone, so she picked up the pace and made sure she would not lose sight of Cindergray.
The Grand Mystra still hadn’t given Jen any hint as to what he was about to show her, just that it might help them find the Halostone. Whatever it was, Jen feared that it was their last hope.
“Here we are,” Cindergray said.
Jen was brought out of her thoughts as they stopped at a dead end in front of a brick wall. She peered over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t obstructing a small door or entrance, but found nothing except a sturdy brick wall.
“Did we take a wrong turn, or . . . ?”
Jen let her question trail off as she waited for Cindergray to say that they had, in fact, taken a wrong turn. Instead, the Grand Mystra simply glanced over his shoulder at her, then held out both of his hands like he was warming them over an invisible fire.
The ground shifted beneath their feet suddenly; it was ever so slight a shift, but just enough for Jen to notice. Looking around, senses alert, she saw a metal stand emerge from the brick wall. On top of it rested a circular wheel, similar to one aboard a pirate ship, but smaller. In the center of the wheel was a depression.
Cindergray didn’t break his concentration as he made a fist with his right hand and pressed one of his rings into the depression.
His ring is like a key!
He looked down at Jen and said, “Always turn counter-clockwise . . . never clockwise.”
Jen nodded, wondering what would happen if you turned it the wrong way, as Cindergray began to twist his hand counter-clockwise. The cobblestones both of them stood on and the wall in front of them began to tip forward.
It felt as if Jen was about to get launched head-first into the brick wall.
To prevent herself from careening into the unforgiving wall, Jen tucked her orb into her chest and grabbed Cindergray for support. It dawned on her that she was clutching him rather intensely, but she dared not let go as they passed through the wall like it was a mirage.
Looking around, Jen could tell that they were now in a secret chamber.
Amazingly, Jen and Cindergray were still standing on the tiles, which were now completely perpendicular to the ground. If the laws of gravity stayed true, Jen was expecting her and Cindergray to fall flat onto the new floor, but that didn’t happen. Releasing her vice-like grip on Cindergray, Jen marveled at the fact that she was still standing on the tiles.
Like Spider-Man! she thought. She couldn’t help but giggle as she tried to compose herself.
Cindergray, who acted like he had done this countless times, put his left foot square onto the floor in front of him and proceeded to do the same with his right foot. In one fluid motion, he’d changed his orientation a full ninety degrees. He turned around, waiting for Jen to do the same.
“Careful now, my dear. Take it slowly,” Cindergray cautioned her.
Eager to follow the master sorcerer’s lead, Jen said, “Here goes nothing.”
She placed her right foot on the wall—which was the floor to Cindergray—quickly followed by her left. The reorientation happened so fast that dizziness hit her unexpectedly and she lost her balance, feeling as if she had just gotten off a spinning teacup ride.
“I guess my ‘slow’ wasn’t slow enough,” Jen said with embarrassment.
“The reorientation is a tough one to master if completed too quickly.” He bent down to help her up, then said, “Welcome to the Sacrarium.” He gestured with both hands, taking in the whole room.
“It really is beautiful.” Jen saw pedestals holding treasures you’d only believe if you saw them with your own eyes. The room had a scent of old books, time-worn leather, and wood that had been varnished and revarnished many times over. She was instantly reminded of the smell of her grandparents’ house.
Cindergray led her past bookcases and display cases filled with relics and weaponry of a bygone era. Half of the items Jen had never seen before, and she could only guess what they could have been used for. Countless questions formed in her mind as if she were a child on her first field trip to a museum.
Before she could verbalize them, Cindergray stopped before a glass room. It was completely empty, save for a lone podium whereupon rested an ancient book. A spotlight was directed on it, giving it a sense of importance. The book’s front face had deep cracks spreading its length like crooked bolts of lightning. Two golden clasps held the book shut, those in turn bound together by leather straps.
“What you see before you is the lost journal of Merlin,” Cindergray told Jen. “It is over fifteen hundred years old and contains a veritable collection of valuable secrets.”
Merlin kept a journal? thought Jen. How cool is that?!
“What’s all in it?” Jen decided to ask aloud, trying to keep her tone casual.
“His experiences and insights as he became a sorcerer . . . stories of him, King Arthur, and the Knights of the Round Table . . . and clues he successfully deciphered when looking for the lost MystiCrystals,” Cindergray explained.
“He helped search for the MystiCrystals too?”
Cindergray nodded. “Merlin was the first sorcerer to take up the search. Genevieve was one of his most talented tenderfeet, and when he learned she had sacrificed herself to stop Ferox he vowed to find the MystiCrystals before they fell into the wrong hands again.”
“Wow . . .” Jen breathed, studying the book. “Did he complete his search?”
“Merlin was only able to find one MystiCrystal before he left us. It is stowed in the wall behind his journal.” Cindergray pointed above the book.
Jen followed his finger until she noticed a small alcove, which held six thin stands, five of which were empty. Leaning forward, inches from the glass wall of the museum-like display room, she spotted a breathtaking crystal floating over the first stand, immediately reminding her of a water opal. Looking to be about four inches long, it came to pointy tips on both of its ends. Blues, greens, and oranges swam underneath its near-translucent surface, giving off a wonderful, soothing light.
In all of her wildest dreams, Jen hadn’t expected to be shown that.
An actual MystiCrystal!
“That is the ChronoCrystal, the MystiCrystal that gave the universe the dimension of time. This is what gives us chronomancers our powers.” Cindergray stared deep into the crystal, getting lost in its effervescent gleam. “The other four remain lost . . . along with the ShadowCrystal, encapsulation of the residual dark energies of the five MystiCrystals.”
“Where did he find the ChronoCrystal?” Jen asked.
“The concentrated impact of Genevieve’s spell blasted all the MystiCrystals—including the ShadowCrystal—far and wide . . . but eventually Merlin found the ChronoCrystal in Southern England, deep beneath Stonehenge.”
Jen’s jaw almost dropped down to the floor. “Stonehenge? One of the world’s most mysterious locations?”
“Yes, indeed. Ironic, almost. No one expected to look so close to the spot of the Great Battle. That’s why it took Merlin so long to find it. Through the clues he had unearthed, he realized that the ChronoCrystal was hit at a low angle, causing it to only travel a few kilometers before burying itself deep into the ground.”
Jen couldn’t believe what she was hea
ring—but then, what was new?
She remembered a family trip to England where they toured Stonehenge when she was younger. It amazed her that, in just a few short years, she would be standing next to a grand sorcerer, looking at one of the most powerful objects in the entire universe, which had once been buried deep underneath that very tourist spot in Southern England.
Cindergray continued, “Shortly after he brought the ChronoCrystal back to Watercress, Merlin fell ill. Some say he was so distraught after Genevieve’s death that the only thing sustaining him was the search for the MystiCrystals . . . but even he realized that the other five would not be found in his lifetime.”
Jen continued to stare, transfixed, as she listened.
“So, in hopes that someone would continue his quest after he was gone, Merlin preserved his findings and clues in this journal.” Cindergray gestured to the book. “But at that time—much like the current climate now—tensions between the Sorcery Guild and Dark Watchers were extremely volatile, and double agents had infiltrated the Guild. Merlin didn’t know who to trust with this information, so he cast a coding spell that could only be deciphered by the Light Bringer, the one he prophesied would bring balance to the realms.”
“The Light Bringer,” Jen repeated.
“Lord Draconex believes that he is the Light Bringer incarnate,” Cindergray explained, “and that is why he is after the journal.”
Jen began to realize the true complexity of this war. “I thought he was only after my ring?” She looked down at her chest, touching her family heirloom.
“The only thing that can free Lord Ferox from the Halostone is your ring, the totem that cast the incarceration spell. But Draconex can’t find the Halostone without the lost journal . . . even if he cannot read it.”
“He can’t?”
