by Reiter
“I said played center stage, not is playing,” Shanvah reminded the InvokeR. Ethadior was taken from the passion of his tirade to a point of realization. He moved from his high chair, Shanvah signaled to Reggie to allow the movement, and the man quickly made his way to his largest bookshelf. The top shelf held an impressive collection of crystals. Various sizes, shapes and colors, all mounted over platforms that kept the crystals afloat.
“Where is the Living Key I most recently made?” he asked of one sky-blue, teardrop-shaped crystal that started to spin as he spoke to it.
“That key is dead!” the crystal replied.
“What?!” Ethadior stammered. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“Your safeguards were not placed upon the recipient of Key Status, they were placed upon most of the items stored within the holding chamber,” the crystal stated. “No harm has befallen them.”
“And where are the tomes and wands?”
“They are in the vicinity of the Prism Baronies.”
“You have to love the way he can just dial up Information like that,” Reggie remarked.
“Might be why we were sent,” Shanvah shared, speaking softly so that only Reginald could hear her. “Makes me wonder what Shuronne and the others are working at the moment though”
Ethadior stepped away from the shelf, his mind falling almost immediately into deep contemplation. “I have to get to Black Gate,” he muttered. “Yes, gather the others and get to Black Gate.”
“What others?” Shanvah inquired.
“My students, of course!” Ethadior snapped before realizing to whom he was speaking. He looked at the Chevalierra and the young man and fright fell over his face. He had revealed that other people were involved in his campaign, and now they had been placed in a very precarious position. Ethadior had to protect them… somehow.
“Don’t!” Shanvah commanded. “Don’t even think about it! Both of us are faster than you. I may not be strong enough to stop you, but I know I can stall your attempt to cast. That would give my very eager friend here plenty of time to lay you low and trust me, he only needs one chance at that!
“Now, I know you want to protect your students from harm,” Shanvah continued, easing her tone of voice. “But we all know that’s not very practical thinking. They’re going around following the bane of Human existence that might have been the very reason why Old Earth was destroyed! How close can they dance to that fire and not get singed?” Shanvah extended her left hand as she carefully approached. Her steps were slow and shallow.
“I won’t let you hurt them,” Ethadior vowed. Shanvah’s eyes flashed briefly with light of the color Tolarra often emanated. She blinked them rapidly and shook her head, returning her focus to Ethadior in order to apply what she had just gained by way of vitaception.
“We’re here to help them, Master Ethadior,” Shanvah stated. “Let us help you. You know the last place you can go is Black Gate. There’s too much going on there now. The whole region is just waiting for something to come along and give it the right nudge for all hell to break loose.”
“Those tomes will be that nudge,” Ethadior declared. “And I’m the one who made it happen!”
“Some of the greatest advancements of man came by way of accident, Master,” Shanvah stressed. “Now, I’m not saying this will be one of those advancing accidents, but the die has been cast and maybe, just maybe, we should let this scenario play out. You sent the tomes to Gulmar and somehow they’re at Black Gate. That’s not just the wrong shipping code we’re talking about.
“Ethadior, we’re wasting time we’re not sure we have. We have to collect your students and get out of here!”
Ethadior thought, but only for a moment. How many times had he worked beyond the point of reason, sacrificing time, effort, personal holdings, and cherished relationships all in the name of ascending to becoming more? For each new height attained, how he had gathered himself for the next effort until finally, he had been declared an Enacranite… and how on that day he had died a little as reality met with the stuff of dreams, leaving only a lack of fulfillment in its wake.
It was not long after that day Ethadior had found himself teaching students the Enacranites had deemed unworthy or inadequate. It was from those ranks that he had chosen his five most talented. He selected one from each of the avenues of Casting with which he was familiar: wizardry, sorcery, elementurgy, witchcraft and fantasiation. It was his wish that if the Enacranites were not going to fulfill the promise of their history, he would create a new order, beginning with these hand-chosen students.
Looking at this mysterious woman and her colleague, Ethadior could already read certain lines of power about them; the sort that Temple Chevaliers do not normally demonstrate, as it was quite rare to come across one who had experience with the workings of Time and Space. Still, he had to make at least one thing perfectly clear.
“Who are you with?” he asked. “Tell me that and perhaps we will not need to test either of our resolves.”
“Very well. But first, tell me, how guarded is this chamber?” Shanvah inquired.
“That will be answer enough,” Ethadior said, extending his hand toward the fire. A tongue of flame lashed out toward him and he reached into it, pulling his cloak from the fire and wrapping it around his shoulders. Reggie smiled as he witnessed the cloak whisking around the man, and every shelf it passed was suddenly made barren. “Fortunately, my charges are all in one place.”
** b *** t *** o *** r **
The spark and song of steel rang throughout the scene, mixing with the sounds of the stream and the bird that sang in the trees. The woman smiled at her opponent, brushing back her long hair that was silver with asymmetric bronze streaks.. “Not bad,” she commented as she spun away from him. He knew better than to try and press, and he took a step back to secure his stance.
“Now try this!” she said, coming out of her spin and glaring at him through her steel gray eyes. She huffed before lunging toward him. She left the ground and flew toward him, swinging her blade. He lifted his weapon, but it was knocked from his hands and up into the air. The edge of her blade rested against the side of his neck before his sword reached the ground. “I’d say that makes me the victor,” she smiled.
“Why do we even do this stuff?!” C’Zaddrus yelled, frustrated at his performance.
“The Great One wishes it,” the woman replied, confused as to why the young Human did not understand. He glared at her and huffed before speaking.
“Let me tell you something, Vrelsha–”
“And I think we’ve had all we can stand for one session,” Jashana blurted out, speaking louder than she normally did. She glared at C’Zaddrus who found he could not hold her stare. “So, please, C’Zaddrus, thank the Sword Maiden and let’s get ready to go.”
A distraught Teyan turned to look at Jashana. “Go?! I haven’t had m–”
“Yes, I think we need to be going!” Jashana snapped, finding a way to speak even louder.
“You’re not too incredibly bright sometimes, you know that?” Wesley said to Teyan as he put on his cloak. “And you’re supposed to be the brightest among us.” Teyan said nothing as his lips moved. Quantil gestured for the young wizardry student to start gathering his things.
“Thank you, Maiden Vrelsha,” C’Zaddrus said as he bowed.
“Young Master C’Zaddrus should take heart,” the woman said with a smile as the sword in her hand faded away. “I am forced to change my tactics in order to disarm you. That was not the case three seasons back.”
“No,” C’Zaddrus said, finding reason to smile. “… I guess I have improved… a little.”
“And I am exceedingly glad to hear that come from you, C’Zaddrus,” Ethadior said as he appeared.
“Great One!” Vrelsha sighed as she smiled.
“Forgive us, Sword Maiden, but we must be away and very quickly, I’m afraid,” Ethadior said as he took hold of Vrelsha’s hands. “Please tell the High Lord that we will s
peak, at length, upon my return. It should not take too long, but there are pressing matters which demand my immediate attention.”
“I will convey your message, my betrothed. Do you have your steel?”
“You are my steel, Vrelsha,” Ethadior replied, kissing the back of her hand. “Again, you have my gratitude.”
“And you have my heart!” Ethadior smiled at her words, gave a slight bow with his head, and turned toward his students as they passed through the portal. Vrelsha kept her eyes upon their departure point until there was no trace of Ethadior’s essence or his castings… her smile did not waver until then. “They are no more, my Master.”
“And what, if anything, were you able to perceive?” a soft voice echoed around her form.
“The children only know that Ethadior is pressed,” she reported, holding out her hand. The sword that C’Zaddrus had been using flew to her grasp. For a brief moment, the image and essence of C’Zaddrus Ginnolio could be seen imposed over her body. She had the same brown hair that he did, the same dark brown eyes, and the same memories. She sifted through them and shook her head in disgust. “Something vexes him greatly, but he has yet to share it with his young hopefuls. He also did not come alone. There was at least one other with him, but she chose to remain silent and out of mortal sight.”
“At least one?”
“I cannot say for sure,” she advised. “There was significant energy blanketing the woman. I could only detect her because of Ethadior’s thoughts, but even his most recent impressions seemed to be shielded somehow.”
“That is something we have not seen from him,” the voice commented. “Dispatch a Watcher. There is too much going about for this to be a simple passing tide of circumstance.”
“I agree, my Master,” Vrelsha replied. “Shall I fetch you a vassal?”
“You might consider dispatching a Seeker to find a fitting candidate,” the voice directed. “But how are you situated among the mortals?”
“Most of my followers are in regions where the means of transit is greatly inhibited,” Vrelsha reported.
“Then let them prove their love of you and your edicts. Commune with one of your followers and send them on a pilgrimage to a place called Black Gate. It is a place that is heavily on the mind of our dear Ethadior and I would like to know why.”
“It shall be done,” Vrelsha said as she bowed her head. She could feel the powerful presence of her master recede into the shadows until she was at last alone. She made her way to the stream and put one knee to the ground. “Yes, it shall be done,” she whispered. “And my master does not risk any of his patrons in this fool’s quest. His KaA will flow the same today as it did yesterday and the day before. What matter is it if mine is lessened?
“I will send a follower, as I was bade, but it will not be one of my disciples,” Vrelsha decided. “Any agent of the sword that will hear my words and perform this deed will suffice… and I have the perfect swordsman in mind!”
** b *** t *** o *** r **
Freund arrived at the chamber at the same time as the other two players and he was struck by the stark differences each of them had presented. He was wearing one of his finer soft-gray robes over a white bodysuit of the softest silks. The woman who had arrived with him wore familiar dark green, tattered robes that dragged along the ground behind her. The third body was simply a mass of thick, black, living smoke. It swirled about without truly dissipating. Whatever seemed to disperse was simply born anew somewhere else in the perpetual cloud.
Three walkways and a central platform were the only lit surfaces in an otherwise dark chamber. An escort had been provided for each of the three contestants, and the Adjudicator awaited them in the center of the room.
“I must say, I never considered this to be a spectator sport,” Freund said to his escort who made nothing in the way of a response. “While I can sense directed light on my skin, it does not seem to cover the entirety of this immense room! And there are so many wondering if I can hear them breathing.” Freund chuckled as he was ushered forward. “… not as clearly as I can hear some of them thinking!”
“Gamesmen, take to your positions!” Greesdev commanded.
“Excuse me, my good man,” Freund said as he teleported to stand behind the chair intended for him. He could feel the board and was impressed with the life-essence coming from it. He wondered if the board he had shared his castle with for so many years was supposed to have felt the same.
“In many ways, yes, Master Freund, and in many ways, no,” the game board responded to his whim. Speaking in a warm and well-blended chorus of three male and three female voices. Obviously it was vitaceptive, though there was a grace in its response and humility to its tone.
“Perhaps the Guardian entity I am most familiar with had spent too much time in my company,” he postulated.
“A most gracious and humble gesture, Master Freund, but we are like most living things, capable of choice. For instance, I have chosen to take a name. You can call me Chorudatti, if you would prefer.”
“It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Chorudatti,” Freund said as he lifted his hand and pushed the remaining two chairs away from the table so that his competitors could sit. Freund walked around his own chair and Chorudatti pushed it back for him. “Thank you, my friend.”
“It would be wrong of you to assume a level of friendship with me, Master Freund,” Chorudatti warned. “I will show no favoritism, for that is not my function.”
“Friendship does not begin with one asking another to be something they are not,” Freund replied. “At least, not any true friendship! No, it begins best when one recognizes and acknowledges another without asking them to change in some manner. You get along despite such differences.
“And as for favoritism, you needn’t worry. Between the three players, I’m the smartest one in the room!” the old blind entity chuckled as he sat down.
The Adjudicator approached and stood on the platform midway between the smoke-shrouded figure and the robed woman. His staff crackled with power as all signs of the spectators were removed from the sensory ability of all the players.
“Speak your true name to the game board!” he commanded. Freund gestured to the robed woman who nodded, pulling back the hood of her robes which turned black and were adorned with simple silver jewelry and small ivory skulls. Her skin was powdery-white, but it seemed to shine like a very fine porcelain. Her hair was misty gray and full of body and wavy curls. Steel gray eyes flared wide with anticipation as she gazed at the game board.
“I am Death,” she announced, smiling and bowing slightly to Freund who returned the gesture. She then turned and set her gaze upon the seated cloud of darkness, but it made no motion and gave no response to her words.
“I am Ebdique,” he said, speaking in a very soft and controlled voice. “I represent Neve who has taken the name Antavida!”
“Representation is not allowed for the purposes of the game!” the Adjudicator ruled, turning to face Ebdique. “However you may answer for Antavida at this moment.
“I am Rendell Avery Harrison V, known to most of you as Freund.” He quickly turned his head toward Death and smiled. “It is so good to be in your presence again, my dear. You feel absolutely ravishing!”
“As always, old friend, you are too kind.”
“The prize of this game can only go to one contestant,” the Adjudicator declared. “… and the final tournament will be between two players. Before that game can begin, Death will face Antadvida, Antavida will face Freund, and Freund will face Death in three simultaneous contests. You are all aware of the rules of the game. Reminders will be provided should anyone begin to stray from the path of a fair competition, but each gamesman will be warned only once for the duration of the tournament.
“I present to you your game pieces!”
Before each of the players, chess pieces started to form. For the first moment, they all appeared to be the same, handsomely crafted stone chess pieces that were smo
oth and clean, but not shiny. The only difference between any of them was their color; black and white. Each gamesman had one set of black and one set of white.
“Freund, would you mind terribly turning the board with me?” Death asked. “It is not that I insist on going second–”
“You would just prefer black,” Freund finished and smiled as he did so. He turned toward Greesdev. “If both parties are agreeable, can such a change be made?”
“And if I do not agree?” Ebdique inquired.
“You are only a witness to their contest and as such your opinion holds no weight in this matter,” the Adjudicator ruled. “As both parties agree to the change, it is allowed.” With a wave of his massive hand the board between Death and Freund was lifted, turned and lowered back into place.
“Thank you,” Death said with a very warm smile on her face.
“Remember this should you have me in Check,” Freund ribbed.
“Don’t you mean when?” Death parried.
The Adjudicator stepped forward and extended his hand toward the game area. “The Gamesmen have been selected, reviewed, and accepted. The final prize will be announced once the final two players are declared. The boundaries for this contest are as follows: while the game is chess and strategy will of course assist the players, it is the chess pieces themselves that will decide the outcome of this contest. You may not directly recruit from any form of life that is not, at this very instant, within the boundary of the Rims. That includes dimensional entities. For any party or parties receiving power from a source outside the Rims, that power must flow through a nexus that is both alive and a life-form of the Rims. You have until the birth of the next star in that region to assemble your ranks. Are there any questions?”
Death spoke first, pushing back from the table. “I have come to expect nothing but the highest standards from you, Greesdev. You have been clear and thorough, not to mention incredibly gracious in light of the loss of the Mensori Gamesman. You do not disappoint. I have no questions.”
