Children of Prophecy (20 page)

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Authors: Glynn Stewart

BOOK: Children of Prophecy
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Tal hesitated. He was afraid. But he would
not
fail…
Tell me.

Tell?
the spellmind laughed.
No. It cannot be told. It must be shown…

 

 

Light surrounded Tal, shifted, changed, and then everything was dark. A different dark, a real dark.

“They’re coming,” a voice said.

“Dammit, how did they get past the barriers to get their monsters in here?” another voice asked.

“The Four have sold their souls to Chaos,” the first voice said. “This is a battle we cannot win.”

“The relief force
will
come,” the second speaker said firmly.

“So
you
say!” the first snarled.

Voices swirled around, an argument. As Tal’s spirit adjusted to the darkness, he recognized the place. It was the catacombs he’d found the path to the Chapel in. Dozens of people, including two Battlemagi and a Life Mage, huddled together. All of them were ragged, with a look of fear in their faces.

The Battlemagi were the worst. Their formal battle robes were ragged and
torn
, which was nearly impossible. Blood dripped from wounds across their bodies and faces, but the man and woman stood facing the way in.

“At least let me
heal
you, if they’re coming!” the Life Mage exclaimed.

“No, Kiri,” the first speaker said finally. “We have to hold them.”

What’s going on here?
Tal demanded.
The High City has never fallen!

Wrong
, the spellmind responded.
It fell. During the War of the Four, the First Swarm took the city. Almost everything died. Only a handful still lived when the Battle Lord Tre’min led a relief force of Battlemagi to the city’s rescue.
It cut off any further comment with a single word,
watch.

“Take care of the people,” the Battlemage continued, “get them to safety.”

The Life Mage – Kiri – led the non-Magi back.

“Does she know there’s no way out of this place except where we’re standing?” the older
-
looking Mage asked.

“No,” the first speaker replied. “None of them do.”

“Dammit, Trel’kor,” the other Mage cursed, but there was no energy in it. She was too tired for that. “They’re all going to die, because we
can’t
hold those bastards long enough, even if Lord Tre’min comes.”

“We’re not going to Del’sar,” Trel’kor said flatly.

“What do you mean?” the older Mage, Del’sar, demanded.

“You are going to go back there and take care of them,” the younger one replied.

“And what the hell are
you
going to be doing?” Del’sar snapped.

“Saving them.” With those words, the Mage – Trel’kor – pulled a knife from his belt. The second item he removed was a dark red crystal.

“You can’t be serious!” Del’sar snarled.

“Do we have a choice?” Trel’kor asked softly.

“I
won’t
let you do this!” the older Mage told him.

“Unfortunately, you can’t stop me,” Trel said quietly, wrapping his shields around himself as he spoke.

The older Mage slumped as the shields blocked her from her friend. “Damn you Trel,” she said quietly. “I
can’t
just watch you kill yourself!”

Kill himself?
Tal demanded of the spellmind.

Watch
, was all it said.

“Don’t,” Trel said harshly. “Go. My friend, for the Gods’ sake,
go!
” Trel knelt on the ground, placing the crystal in front of him. “They’ll need you. It’s the only way.”

The older Mage bowed her head in defeat. “So be it,” he said finally.

Trel’kor faced the passageway, rolling his sleeves back to bare his arms. He raised the knife, placing the crystal carefully.

Tal watched in horror as the Mage raised the knife and slashed his own throat open, holding the crystal underneath to catch the blood. The flow of blood was impossible; it shouldn’t have all been coming out that fast.

The man’s body crumpled to the ground as the spell the Mage had cast finished sucking the blood from it. The blood crystal was no longer dark; instead it glowed with a bright fury that would have matched the sun itself.

And then it wasn’t glowing; it was changing, expanding. Spreading out and turning dark. It reached the walls of the passage and kept going, appearing to spread out through them as it faded from bright red, to maroon, to the brownish-black of the Last Chapel’s barrier.

You are Trel’kor,
Tal said
.
It wasn’t a question.

Yes,
the voice replied simply.
Only the greatest spells have spellminds – for only the greatest spells take a human life to cast.

The Chapel of Life is the same, though. They…
Tal could not see the Life Magi using such a spell as he’d just seen.

No, they didn’t,
Trel said calmly.
They used a different magic. They did create sentience in the magic, but it took a hundred Life Magi. It is also fading. When it was created, it guarded the entire population of the inner Citadel and beat back the assault of the entire Swarm. Now, it guards only a small garden.

Their speech had not interrupted the vision. As Tal watched, dozens of Swarmbeasts came boiling through the tunnels. They paid no attention to the barrier
;
controlled only by their instincts and their Swarm Masters
,
they had no regard for their own lives. They overwhelmed barriers by sheer force of numbers. All barriers, except for this one. The Swarmbeasts struck this barrier and died.

As Tal watched, the vision slowly faded.

 

 

Again, he floated in the darkness.

Do you understand, Initiate Tal’raen?
the spellmind – no, Trel’kor – asked.

I’m not sure
, Tal replied.
I think I do

Our nature is Death, Tal’raen,
the mental voice of the long-dead Mage said.
We are soldiers. We are nothing more, and yet nothing less. We have our duty, our sacred call. We are Battlemagi. We are Judges, warriors, and guardians. But our essence is Death. Our greatest magics will claim a life in the casting. The Sanctuaries, the Hawk Amulet… each of these claimed a life.

Tal tried to nod, but found his body was still missing.
I understand
, he thought.

Good,
Trel’kor said gently.
It is in you to do great things. Whether they are glorious or terrible… that remains to you and to those who would stand by your side.

You may pass, Adept Tal’raen,
the spellmind told him,
for you have passed my test and are now Accepted.

 

 

Tal’s foot hit the ground on the other side of the murky curtain and he stumbled. He looked around, seeing the black starkness of the Last Chapel, lit only by darklight, for the first time ever.

He drew himself to his feet and faced the trio who stood by the altar: the Council of Three. To the side, Car’raen watched silently.

Tal looked over them, and asked quietly, “How long?”

Shej’mahi shrugged. “Moments, no more,” he told Tal, straightening. “Tal’raen, Initiate and Accepted of the Death Magi, approach the altar.”

Tal walked down the path slowly, his eyes glancing over the darklight crystals in their black granite emplacements. He felt a spell tug at him, and threw it off.

He glanced up at the Swearers, and realized what he’d done. With a sheepish grin, he slowly released his shields, allowing the spell to take hold and Shift him.

The black hawk hobbled along on foot for a moment before taking to the air, carefully flying down the aisle. Halfway down, the spell released him and Tal stood where the hawk had been.

He stopped before the altar, facing Shej’mahi and the High Priests.

Shej’mahi stepped forward to face him. “Tal’raen, Initiate and Accepted of the Death Magi. Kneel,” he commanded.

Tal sank to his knees.

Kir’ani, High Priestess of Silsh Tekat, stepped forward. “Initiate Tal’raen, for five years you have been an Initiate of Death,” she said quietly, her voice hushed in this most sacred of places. “Before that, for five years you were a Novice. You have passed all tests and done all things asked of you in this time. As a student, you are done your Initatehood.” The woman stepped back to stand by the bust of her god.

Lor’dals, High Priest of Shet Ronen, took her place. “Initiate Tal’raen, for ten years the magic has grown in your body and your mind,” he told Tal. “Your training has shaped and aided that growth, and it is now complete. As a Mage, you are done growing and are done your Initiatehood.” He stepped back to stand beside Kir’ani and in front of the bust of Shet Ronen.

Shej’mahi took his place, standing at the tip of a triangle with Kir’ani and Lor’dals as its base. “Initiate Tal’raen, in both power and training, you are a Mage,” he said simply. “It is not the custom of the Kingdom of Vishni to simply allow young Magi to walk free and begin practicing. You are young and untested, and thus are not a full Mage. However, I must now ask that you once more take the Oath, to bind yourself to the Cause.”

Tal inclined his head, and focused, bringing the words of the Oath to the forefront of his brain. “I swear to stand between the innocent and destruction, between Order and Chaos, between innocence and war,” he avowed quietly, the words flowing easily for him. “I swear to wield death in the defense of life and only in that defense. I swear I shall not wield death for my own gain. I swear to serve and defend those who cannot defend themselves. I swear to be the ultimate order that preserves all. I am the binding; I am the end. I am Death.”

As one, the three Swearers spoke in response. “Death is in you,” they said flatly. “Death is you. The Kingdom of Vishni accepts your magic, your power and your service. Your oath is accepted.”

Shej’mahi stepped forward, offering his hand to Tal. “Rise, Hawk Adept Tal’raen.”

 

 

Tal slowly stood and turned to face Car. “Hawk Car’raen,” he greeted his father. “It is good to see you again… at last.”

He watched as Car winced. “I deserved that,” the Mage admitted. “Things have been going to hell in a handbasket all across Vishni, and I’ve had no choice but play fire fighter.”

Tal looked carefully at Car, glancing down over the burns and rips in his robes. “I get the feeling that I shouldn’t be planning to return to Brea’s party,” he said softly.

Car nodded. “We have to leave immediately,” he said regretfully. “There was a reason we raised you to Adept early. We need you. There’s a Drake Mage on the run at the moment. He kidnapped one of our most promising young novices and broke free a captured spy.” Car paused. “One of the spy’s captors was me. I was there when this Mage broke in. I fought him… and I lost.”

Tal started at Car in shock. Car was supposed to be the most powerful Mage alive, his natural abilities enhanced by the amulet he wore.

Car met Tal’s gaze. “At the very least, I need another Hawk Mage to fight him,” he said quietly. “You’re the only one free.”

Tal swallowed. “When do we leave?” he asked.

“Now,” Car told him.

Tal hesitated. “I promised…” he trailed off.

“We don’t have time, Tal,” Car said. “Every moment we delay, he draws closer to the mountains and safety. Even you and I together cannot pursue a Chaos Mage into the Waste.”

Tal nodded slowly.

 

 

Brea stood by the door, waiting. The party was slowly dying down, people drifting out into the summer night. Tal had been gone nearly three hours.

She continued to stand by the pillared door, waiting for him.
He’d said he’d come back. He
will
come back.

A black-clad figure crossed her sight and she walked towards them. Then the Mage turned, and she realized it wasn’t Tal. It was the Mage who’d escorted him away.

She inclined her head. “Battlemage,” she addressed him.

The Battlemage returned the gesture of respect. “Adept Brea’ahrn,” he greeted her. “What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering where I would find Tal’raen,” she asked. “He told me he would return here, but he hasn’t.”

“I see,” the Mage said softly. “I am afraid that is a promise he would not have been able to keep.”

“What do you mean?” Brea demanded.

“The Adept Tal’raen has been called to Service,” the Mage said simply. “He left with the Hawk Car’raen nearly an hour ago, in pursuit of a Chaos Mage heading for the border.”

“He’s already left?” Brea repeated. The energy seemed to drain out of Brea. “When will they return?”

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