Death Mages Ascent: Revised Edition (Death Mage Series Book 1) (11 page)

Over time, some of the gods became gluttonous, craving more and more worshipers. They commanded their followers to make war, forcing other peoples to convert or die. This was the beginning of the War of the Gods. During the fighting, a god whose name has been lost wished to give his followers an advantage over other worshipers. He gifted his most devout followers with the ability to harness the energy that had formed the gods themselves. He named his new weapons Magi and sent them forth to devastate the enemy armies. The few accounts of these wars claim that these Magi were not limited to the casting of one type of energy, but could control all of the types of magic that today we find to be separate.

Finding themselves at a severe disadvantage, the other gods had no choice but to create Magi of their own. The death and destruction of the war increased as thousands marched into battle, and the Magi laid waste to them. Famine, disease, and long winters killed many more. As the death toll climbed ever higher, man eventually rebelled against those they had served. When their worshipers refused to fight any longer, the gods became angry. To punish them, the gods came bodily into the world to destroy those who would no longer serve. It was then that the Magi, the most devout of all, turned against their creators, wielding the magic of the gods to fight against them in defense of humanity.

Jaxom became completely engrossed as he read about how the mages fought the gods whenever they appeared. They sacrificed dozens of their own just to hold the powerful beings at bay. Seeing no way to win, the mages delved deeper into the magic to harness an energy the gods knew nothing about, the power of death. The mages that harnessed this new magic became a true threat. These new death mages stood at the forefront of every battle. Wherever gods came into the world, they stood ready to meet them, and for the first time in known history, the all-powerful beings died at the hands of men.

With this new threat, the gods grew fearful, using their faithful to fight instead of coming into the world themselves. The death mages decided to pursue the gods to their own ground. They forced open gates to the plane the gods resided in and faced them there. Attacked in their homes, the gods were forced to offer a treaty to the mages. They would no longer command those who followed them to fight in their names and would step back from the world, only intervening when invoked by men. They created a priesthood to act as conduits and ensure a lasting peace. The gods also demanded something in return. As the price of peace, no longer would the mages have complete control of magic, but each would ever be bound to one school, and mages would pass that same power to their children. The mages agreed and peace came into the world. 

              Jaxom sat back, amazed at what he had just learned. The candles on the table showed that he had been reading for hours. Why was this history hidden? The gods had created the mages who had then turned against them. This explained the mages’ deep aversion to worship. The history itself must have been destroyed at some point, but the feelings harbored were still strong. The book had answered questions he had never thought to ask, only to leave him with many more. Why would the mages agree to give up so much of their abilities? What happened after the pact was made? 

              So enthralled by the story contained in the pages, he had forgotten about his current situation. Examining the bands of smoke around his wrists, Jaxom tried to grab the magical bindings, to physically rip them away, but they would not bend Jaxom thought he had a better chance of breaking the bones in his hand. Giving up for the moment, he turned his attention to the many shelves surrounding him. If Alimar had pulled the book from here, it was likely there were others that contained valuable information.  

              Standing, he walked along the heavy wood shelves, browsing the titles until one caught his eye. It was far smaller than the rest and tucked behind a black leather tome. Pulling it from the shelves, he found that it was no book at all but a journal only a little bigger than his palm, the paper bound in a stiff leather tied by a string. The first page contained only a name and title: Katia Wayfarer, initiate second class. Skimming through the first entry, he found that it was a record of a young girl’s training to become a death mage. She had been tested to see if the ability to channel had manifested in her. Having passed the test, her training to control magic began with learning to draw power into herself, much as Jaxom had learned to do. Skipping forward, Jaxom read an entry about a cast he had never tried. In the few pages he read, it was clear how much he did not know about being a death mage.

              At the sound of footsteps, he hurriedly tucked the small book into his belt underneath the shirt. Alimar came into the room followed by a risen carrying a platter of food and wine. Placing the platter on the table near the book, the risen joined the two standing outside. Taking the seat, he had occupied previously, Alimar gestured for Jaxom to sit.

              “What do you think of our history?” he asked.

              “I never knew…” Jaxom trailed off, thinking about the origins of mages and how death mages had come to be.

              “No mages do, save us. During the Mage Wars, most of the history was lost. As we fought one another for dominance, many libraries, such as this one, were destroyed.” Alimar removed a plate of cooked vegetables and roast beef from the tray and poured two cups of wine. “Eat, I know you are hungry.”

              Jaxom was hungry, but the sight of the food reminded him that he and his friends’ last meal had been the night before. “Your companions ate hours ago,” Alimar said taking a sip from his cup. The man had an unsettling ability to know what Jaxom was thinking. Jaxom wondered if he was adept at reading body language or using some type of magic Jaxom knew nothing about. He hoped it was the former.

              Jaxom chewed a bite of the roast while contemplating his next question. “Why am I here? You know I would kill you if I could.”

              Alimar laughed in real amusement. “That may be harder than you think. You are here because I want you to understand that this city is your birthright, the home of our ancestors. We may not be the only ones left. If we could find others like us, we could start fresh, rebuilding our school here.” Jaxom could not help but admit the prospect was very appealing. All his life, he had been alone. His ability had isolated him, even from other mages. If Corin’s father had not taken him in, he did not know what would have become of him. He doubted he would have survived. 

              “You have been protected by your friend, the king, and his father before him. If they had not adopted you into their family, the mages of the other schools would have found a way to kill you. Other death mages may not have been as fortunate. I suspect that many may even be in hiding from fear of persecution. Weakening the power structure in the kingdoms and gaining allies is the only way for us to rebuild without suffering attack,” Alimar said.

              Jaxom knew the other mages didn’t like him, but he never thought they wished him dead simply for being what he was. “I don’t understand. Why would other mages attack us?”

              “During the Mage Wars, our kind was among the most powerful, ruling both here in the north and much of your friend’s kingdom as well. When the fighting began, the other schools fought amongst themselves, but all were jealous of the death mages’ abilities. With the power to raise entire armies, we had no need to risk the lives of loyal men.”  

              “Entire armies?” Jaxom interrupted. “How is that possible? I have never been able to animate more than twenty at a time.”

              The other man smiled at him. “There are ways to extend that particular ability. Did you not notice how many I sent for you in the woods?”

Thinking back, Jaxom realized that there must have been more than forty.

“As I was saying,” Alimar continued, “the other schools saw us as the greatest threat, and they joined forces against us. The death mages were powerful, but even they could not stand against their combined strength,” he said anger edging into his voice. “The other schools swept through the land, burning every city and town to the ground until the capital was all that was left.”

“If the other schools had won, why leave? Why not destroy this one as well?” Jaxom asked.

“You have seen the defenses. Now imagine attacking it with death mages holding against you. Every man of yours that fell would only stand to fight against you. The other schools decided it was best to simply starve the city out. When they realized there was no hope, the death mages made a deal for the common people who lived here to leave. Trapped in the city with only their most loyal vassals, the mages still refused to let their home fall into enemy hands. Together, they cast an impenetrable wall around the city, fueling it with magic from their own deaths and leaving behind an army of undead soldiers to defend it.”

“How long did the wall last?” Jaxom asked.

“I do not know. Nobody does.  I imagine it was long enough that the invading armies left or went back to fighting each other,” Alimar said disgust showing on his face.

“So they all died?”

He smiled again. “Apparently not, or you and I would not be here discussing it. Some must have been outside when the siege began or escaped thereafter. That is why I hope there are more like you and I out there, and that all they need is a place to call home.”

“That all sounds grand, but it does not change the fact that whoever your ally is, they are responsible for innocent people dying.” Jaxom said. The idea of having a home was starting to sound too good. He had to force himself to remember why he was here. “He controls the shades that attacked us, and he is behind the war that is killing so many now.”

“I do not agree with all of the methods, but I do need the mages distracted to accomplish my goals,” Alimar said, but Jaxom thought he heard a note of doubt in his voice.

“There has to be another way. If you call off the attack on Ale’adaria, I am sure Corin would help you. He has no great love for the mages in Ale’adar, and I know he would welcome new allies to strengthen his position apart from them.”

“I am afraid I cannot stop the war. It would have happened without me. The one who desires it has his own reasons, and nothing I do will change that.”

“Then help us. If you join with us, Corin would do whatever he could to see you restore this city.” Actually, Jaxom wasn’t sure how his friend would react to finding a previously unknown city springing up just outside of his kingdom.  “If you help us, I will be a part of that restoration. I will join you, and we will look for the others together.”

Alimar looked into his eyes, weighing his words. Jaxom held his gaze without blinking. Jaxom wanted nothing more than to help the man. If they could rebuild this city, he may finally have a place that would be his own. He would be accepted by those around him because they would be like him.

“I will think on what you have said. For now, I will return you to your friends. I do not want them thinking you are dead and doing something foolish,” he said.

As he walked to the dungeon with his risen guards, Jaxom reflected. He had come here expecting to find an evil lord bent on the destruction of everyone and everything he knew. Instead, he found a man not that different from himself. If Jaxom had not had Corin and Celia, could he have ended up as Alimar? Making deals just to find a place to call home?

Chapter 15

The risen brought him to the room where his friends were being held, minus Da’san whom Ariana said was still gagged but safe in another room. The room itself was well furnished, but showed its age in the thinning sheets on the one bed and flat cushions on the sofas. A tray of fresh fruit and cooked meat sat on a round table in the center of the room. Ale and wine had also been left, and Jaxom wasn’t surprised to find that the men had already consumed half of the golden liquid.

As he poured himself some wine, Adriana offered him her cup to fill as well. He handed it backed to her, and she smiled in thanks. Sipping, he looked at the faces of his companions. Except for Adriana, who stood near him at the table, they sat, waiting patiently to find out what had happened. Cribble seemed to be in a stupor, staring at his cup intently.

“Our captor’s name is Alimar,” Jaxom began. “And though he is involved with whoever attacked Corin, he is not the one directly behind everything that has happened.”

“If not him, then who?” Brenin asked.

“I don’t know yet. But I think he sees the arrangement with that individual as a necessity, a way to get what he wants,” Jaxom replied.

“And what is it he wants?” Adriana asked from behind her cup.

“He wants to restore this city, so that mages like us can have a place of our own,” Jaxom said. He was not sure how the guardsmen would take that bit of news, but they had come too far together not to tell the truth.

“So he is a death mage,” Jerup said.  

Cribble snorted and somehow refrained from spitting on the floor. “Great, as if one of you wasn’t bad enough. Now there’s another who wants to build a grave robber holy land.” The captain’s slurred words showed that he had been at the ale for a while. “Shut up, Cribble,” Adriana said. “We need this grave robber on our side if we are going to get out of here alive.

“You watch your tongue, little girl. You’ve been with us all of three days. What do you know about anything?” Cribble said, spitting venom with each word.

“Leave off, both of you. Fighting with each other is not going to help our situation,” Jerup cut in.

“I am the captain here. You follow my orders and do what I say.”

“You may be a captain, but King Corin put Jaxom in charge. You are bound by honor and duty to follow his lead,” Brenin said.

Jaxom tried to hide his surprise at the young man’s outburst. Throughout most of the trip, he had deferred to Cribble because of the man’s rank in the Guard.  Cribble grew quiet after that, only grumbling under his breath before taking a long draw of ale. Jaxom was touched. Except for Corin and Celia, nobody had ever stood up for him before. Now here were three, one a woman he had not known long at all.

“Go on, Jaxom. What do we do know?” Adriana asked.

“I asked him to join with us, and he said he would consider. For now, we wait for his decision.”

“So our best course of action is to take no action at all. No wonder we were all caught,” Cribble grumbled, loud enough for them to hear. Adriana turned away from Jaxom to look at the guard captain. Whatever passed between them, Cribble looked away first and went silent again.

“At least he removed your shackles,” Adriana said looking at Jaxom’s hands. “If need be, you could use your magic to get us out.”

Jaxom slid the sleeves of his shirt up to reveal the smoke bindings. “He took the metal off, but these still stop me from casting.”

Adriana reached down to touch the magical bands, and her fingers brushed against Jaxom’s skin. When she was done inspecting the restraints, she withdrew her hand. Jaxom found himself wishing that she had not. She glanced up and met his eyes, and the look in them left Jaxom thinking she felt the same way. Even now, caught by a man whose intentions seemed dangerous at best, he was still drawn to this woman he only met a few days ago.

“What if he decides that he likes the arrangement he has now over the one you are offering?” Brenin asked.

“We do what have to,” Jaxom replied. “First, we need to find out who he is working with.”

Cribble lay down on the bed. Jaxom hoped he would sleep off his drink-induced anger. Jerup and Brenin sat down across from each other and resumed a game of dice. Pulling the journal from his belt, Jaxom took a seat on an empty couch. Adriana sat down next to him as he opened the leather cover.

“What is that?” she asked.

“A journal I found in the library. It was written by a young girl who was training to become a death mage.”

“Is there anything useful?” she said, leaning in closer to get a better look at the writing. Jaxom became acutely aware of how good she smelled, even after days of riding and fighting. He could feel her breast lightly pressing against his arm and wondered whether it was intentional.

“I haven’t had time to read much of it, but I’m hoping that there is something in here that can help to teach me other casts,” Jaxom said.

Skimming the part where Katia described learning to pull the power of death into herself, he found the next entries very intriguing. She wrote about the first cast she was to learn, the creation of a veil that would obstruct a person’s vision. Unlike the decaying tendrils of the blight, this veil was not intended to harm. Katia had spent a week learning to spread the veil in a large enough area to be of use. The problem she kept encountering was maintaining what she had already cast while producing more. She found that the best way for her to do this was to cast a holding over the veil with one hand while the other created more. The holding magic would maintain the veil for a short time.

Jaxom had never considered this technique. Casting with his non-sword hand had always seemed natural. Controlling a different cast through each hand was brilliant as long as a mage had the mental dexterity to do so. Wanting to try it right away, he drew power into himself only to sigh with disappointment when it was quickly sucked away again. Frustrated, he closed the journal. Adriana had moved to the other side of the couch, her closed eyes and slow even breaths indicating that she had fallen asleep. Jerup and Brenin had found places on the floor when the weariness of the long day finally overcame them. Tucking the book into the small of his back, Jaxom leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes.

The next morning, after a quick breakfast brought by the risen guards, the group was led into large room, empty save for a long table surrounded chairs. On the table, their weapons had been laid out, including Jaxom’s sword. Alimar sat at the head, fingers interlaced in front of him.

“You may reclaim your weapons, and you are free to roam the palace and surrounding city at your leisure,” Alimar said. As his friends began gathering up what was theirs, Jaxom took a moment to appreciate his sword before sliding it home in its sheath. Just then, Da’san was led into the room by two risen, still gagged with his hands tied behind his back. “If you can promise me that he will not pray or contact his goddess while you remain within my walls, the young priest is also free to go.”

Jaxom looked to Da’san. The priest nodded his assent. “You have my word. While we are here, he won’t pray.”

One of Da’san’s guards pulled a knife from his belt and cut the rope holding his hands. With his arms free, the priest removed the gag from his mouth, massaging the muscles of his jaw to work out the cramps.

“There is a well in a small courtyard not too far from here. Your companions may freshen up there while we finish our talk,” Alimar said. “These guards will lead you to it.” He gestured toward two of the risen.

Once his friends had departed, Jaxom sat. “You have decided to join us then?”

“No.” Jaxom regarded the older man with a look of confusion. “I have decided to let you go and wait to see who the victor is. If your friend wins this war, I will consider joining you. First, I must see if you and King Corin have the strength to survive.”

“You will not help us then?”

“I said I will not join you now, but I will give you aid. I could see that my plan to rebuild our home appealed to you, and I do not want to lose the chance to gain your help in finding others like us. I will tell you who you are up against.”

Jaxom was silent for a long moment before replying. “Will you not put your alliance with him in jeopardy by telling me?” Jaxom finally asked.

“He is unlikely to find out, and he might not even care if he does,” Alimar said. “He is the god Or’Keer.”

Jaxom sat dumbstruck. Their hidden enemy was a god. “I thought the pact forbid the gods from starting wars?”

“It binds the old gods from directly influencing the lives of men, but this god is newly born. The pact does not apply to him,” Alimar said in a matter-offact tone. “He is not as powerful as the old gods, but neither are mages what they once were. His powers are limited much in the way a mage’s magic is; however, he has vast control of darkness itself, a power no other god has ever had sway over.”

“What could you possibly have to offer this Or’Keer?” Jaxom asked.

“Being young, he has no worshippers to give him more power. I find those willing to serve him, though he has squandered most of them by turning them into weapons. I also allow his priests to use my city for their rites of transformation. ”

              “The shades…” Jaxom said.

              “Or’Keer calls them his faithful.”

The faithful… that was what the voice in the cells had called the shades. Jaxom felt a sudden surge of fear. How could they fight a god? “You find people for him?” Jaxom said accusingly.

“A god cannot draw power from those who refuse them. Devotion can be forced, but it is far less effective than true belief,” Alimar said. “That is why priests spend so much time trying to convert others to worship their gods.”

              “You allow them to stay here?”

“Do not worry,” Alimar said, that small smile of amusement returning. “They have all gone south to aid Dradon and Azuria in their conquest. I was not privy to the details.” 

“What are these ‘faithful’? I have never seen their like before.”

“They are mages, in a sense, but much more limited. Like the old gods, Or’Keer wanted to give his followers an advantage. He imbued those he found worthy with his own power over the darkness. The book you read does not mention that not all men can be made into mages. Only one in fifty survived the transformation, but the darkness infused in the faithful is far less potent than the magic within a mage. As such, Or’Keer is able to create many more of them.”

Corin would not stand a chance against an army of shades. Jaxom had to get back to warn his friend before it was too late. “Is there anything else I should know?”

Alimar stretched out his hand towards Jaxom, and the bands around his wrist dissolved. “Only two things. Do not underestimate Or’Keer. He is young, but he is still a god. And be watchful of those around you. Many serve him in secret throughout the kingdoms, and they will take any opportunity to further his will.”

Underestimate a god? Of all the things Jaxom was foolish enough to do, that did not rank among them. The second warning, though, had struck home with him. Or’Keer could have agents within Corin’s court or army.

With the bindings gone, Jaxom filled himself with magic, the power flowing into his body felt like a drink of water after days of thirst. Lifting his right hand in a direction away from Alimar, he cast the veil as Katia had described in her journal. Bringing the other hand forward, he cast the holding to secure the veil in place while his right continued to produce more of the dark mass. Jaxom sustained the flow of magic until the entire other side of the table was hidden from sight. The veil floated in the air before them, and Jaxom felt a surge of pride at completing it on the first try.

Alimar waved his hand, scattering the veil. “I was not aware you knew that,” he said.

“I have never had cause to use it,” Jaxom replied.

“You are full of surprises,” Alimar said, his voice flat. “I have something else to further build trust between us.”

Alimar led Jaxom outside to a stable. At first, Jaxom thought perhaps the man would give back their horses. Instead of horses, however, these stalls held three of the six-legged creatures Jaxom had learned of from the wolves, but  these had large, black feathered wings furled at their sides. Jaxom was certain that the ones the wolves had seen did not have wings. Other than that, the creatures had the same black and grey fur, short snout lined with teeth, and clawed paws.

“These are durgen,” Alimar said. “You may have run into them on your way through the forest.”

“They did not have wings,” Jaxom replied.

“The wings are my doing. I added them to the creatures.”

Looking closer, Jaxom could see the joints where the wings met the torso of the animal. Then Jaxom noticed that their eyes emitted a faint white glow, and he understood then how it was possible. “They are risen.”

“Risen? Is that what you call the reanimated?” Alimar said thoughtfully. “I like that. Yes, they are risen. I could not have melded the wings had they not been. It took me two weeks to create these three. I fashioned the wings from those of many great birds, and I had to reduce the density of their bones to allow flight. Though less sturdy than their living cousins because of it, they can now carry two people in flight.”

“You can change the form of a risen?” Jaxom asked, feeling dumb for asking a question for which the evidence stood in front of him.