Authors: Laszlo,Jeremy
“Your child appears to be doing well,” Sara remarked, gesturing towards the priestess’s baby who had momentarily stopped its suckling as it dozed off, its bluish mouth still making sucking movements.
“Yes, thank you, Princess Sara. My boy is growing very strong. Had it not been through the grace of Ishanya and the power of Prince Seth, today neither of us would be here,” the priestess replied in an unnaturally deep tone for a woman.
“Indeed,” Seth responded. “Through the grace of Ishanya indeed,” he added sarcastically before continuing. “So tell us of the congregation and the temple. How many attend now? How is it the temple was restored in such a short amount of time? What else should we know about the happenings of the city in our absence?”
The priestess dutifully answered Seth’s questions, assuring him that the church now had a following of about a thousand and a half patrons, though it could only accommodate a fraction at a time. The building had been restored to its former glory through donations from the congregation, both monetarily and through services rendered. She assured him it had not been very costly as it turned out the actual structure was preexisting and only the items within the temple needed to be furnished. Most of these had also been donated, such as the table they attended now, as well as the statues at the base of the stairs and various other pieces throughout the temple. It wasn’t until after this explanation that the priestess revealed a fact that Seth believed to be the most important detail of her entire story.
Upon being opened, each of the previously sealed chambers had been cleared of debris, cleaned and restored, though the work was minimal as most of the rooms had been completely empty apart from perhaps a decaying piece of furniture or two. It was not until near the end of the renovations when a cracked wall was being repaired that a pair of masons discovered a hidden chamber off one of the smaller rooms that was anything but empty. The small vault held many an item, though mostly it held records and writings of the temple from previous ages. Sadly the majority of these had decayed and fallen apart at a touch. Some items still remained however that were legible.
However, these were not what really caught Seth’s attention. It was only when the priestess mentioned coins and weapons with odd carvings upon them that Seth really began to wonder at the worth of this find. Not its value in money, but something much deeper; something that had been nagging at Seth’s mind since the day he was awarded the gnarled old staff that had belonged to an aged illusionist. Something moreover that Seth believed could make all the difference in this particular battle that quickly approached. Though as anxious as he could ever remember feeling, Seth bit his tongue, remaining silent, while Borrik and the priestess discussed her teachings at some length. They also talked about the temple’s standing in the community, its projects and other such churchy things that Seth could not care less about.
Sara, it seemed, was quite intrigued by the entire conversation, as she listened intently and asked a few questions of her own. Seth, on the other hand, drowned out the conversation for the most part, wishing each moment for them to finish talking. It was when he finally felt the urge to scream, unable to wait any longer, that he pulled himself back to the real world and realized that everyone in the room was looking at him questioningly. Apparently the conversation had in fact ended, and he presumed that he had been asked the final question, though he had no idea what that might have been.
“I’m sorry. I am very tired and my mind is burdened with a great many things,” Seth said slyly. “What is it you asked?”
“Would you care to see any of the other chambers, Prince Seth?” the priestess asked humbly.
“Yes, I would like to see this hidden chamber you found along with every item that was within it,” Seth answered quickly.
“All the items that were found within the vault, as we call it, remain there except for those that were unsalvageable. Also all of the donations I have received in excess have been stored there as well,” Marina replied, rising from her seat to guide them once again.
Seth stood to follow the woman’s lead, surprised at her current situation. Though he had mutated both her and her child into a grotesque blending of orc and human, she appeared to be completely comfortable in her new, oily, blue skin. She certainly showed enough of it. Not only had she dealt well with her alteration, but she had taken her duties to the temple to heart and ran with them as if it was what she was born to do. Again Seth thought about how unlikely it was that these events could have just randomly fallen into place, so seemingly perfectly. As he followed the priestess he could not help but wonder once again if the goddess Ishanya had had a hand in bringing the young woman and her dying child to fall at his feet a month or so prior.
But before he could dwell upon it further, they entered another room, this one appearing as vacant quarters for a servant to the temple. If it held a hidden vault, Seth presumed that this room was reserved for the priest, which would have been Borrik, but these days Seth questioned if Borrik held as much interest in the temple as he once had. Reaching the wall opposite the door the priestess reached up and pulled upon a sconce mounted into the wall, causing it to slide out towards her by several inches. Stepping across the wall the priestess stretched up to a second sconce and turned it a quarter turn to the left with an audible click. The sound of metal clanking upon metal resounded from behind the wall as a large slab slowly lifted to reveal a passageway beyond. As the wide slab rose higher, more and more of the room beyond was revealed, though to be honest it did not look like much.
Within the room were narrow tables with wooden crates upon them lining the walls. Each crate had a word painted upon the visible side, labeling what contents it held within. There was a small crate for scrolls, another for tomes, one labeled ‘artwork’, and yet another labeled ‘items’. Beyond those were a few crates with names upon them of no importance. Entering the room Seth looked around and found what it was he was seeking. Upon the same wall as the only entry, hidden from view from outside, was a weapons rack. Though nearly barren, a few blades remained upon it as well as a shield, a helm and a breastplate. All looked peculiar in make, though it was probably more due to the period in which they were crafted. As more modern styles were created, older weapons and armor were usually reforged into more modern versions. Though each of the items was unquestionably old, none of them showed any sign of rust or decay. Approaching the rack, Seth slid his finger down the edge of one of the blades therein and, as expected, the weapon’s edge appeared to have been recently sharpened.
“Have these weapons or armor been tended to and properly restored like the rest of the temple?” he asked the priestess.
“No, your majesty,” she replied.
As Seth had hoped, this was their original condition, and as such he believed he knew their true secret. Judilanthaliz, the gray-robed mage he had spent a short time apprenticed to, had once mentioned enchanted weapons to him. The staff Seth had won while being tested by the previous King Valdadore had shown him that it was possible to enchant an item. Seth could not wait to study the objects and as a quick test he focused upon his vision of the gods. Each of the weapons and pieces of armor upon the rack had its own aura of life, just as he expected. Some were visibly dimmer than others, but each item had power within it. Seth was ecstatic. If he could learn the secret of imbuing items with such power, he could find a way to even the odds between his kingdom and its attacker. In his mind he imagined bows that shot arrows of lightning and fire, swords that struck with both magic and blade, and shields that shone as bright as the sun, blinding all who attacked the bearer. Seth needed to get to work, but just as importantly, the secret could lie within one of the writings within this very room. He needed to find it as quickly as possible.
Morning, and the tremendous duties it brought with it, came entirely too swiftly for Garret who stirred within his chair as the first rays of sun broke through his study’s window. Linaya remained curled in his lap, her head upon his shoulder, which at any other time would have been very pleasant. But having just awoken, Garret found it a little uncomfortable and more than a bit embarrassing in his current condition. Softly, Garret pulled the hair over Linaya’s shoulder and whispered into her ear that it was time for them to get ready for the day. Linaya began to stir slowly, but Garret, shifting his weight to hide his predicament, seemed rather too impatient to get Linaya out of his lap. At first she was hurt by his impatience, but realized quickly his reason for it. Moving as if to do as Garret asked, Linaya took hold of each arm of the large chair they inhabited and swung her feet off Garret’s lap to the floor. Then rising just enough to bear her own weight, Linaya placed her bottom right in Garret’s lap and gave it a little wiggle just to tease him.
“You know, if you called upon Gorandor right now you could probably launch me across the room,” Linaya laughed as she rose from the chair in earnest this time.
“Very funny,” Garret muttered, his cheeks unusually red.
“Oh my, your majesty, I know I must go visit with the dwarves, but when I return do you think I could have a position upon your staff?” Linaya asked, attempting to sound serious through her giggles. “It appears I could be a nice fit and provide you with a great service,” she continued nearly in tears.
Garret’s face grew hotter and hotter, but fortunately for him, as the blood rushed to redden his face, it allowed other places to return to normal. Garret was now able to get his revenge. Lunging from the chair, Garret snatched up Linaya’s petite form within his muscular arms and flung her upon his desk, pinning her down. Linaya, though caught off guard, giggled in delight feeling assured she was about to be granted the position she had just spoken of. However, Garret had other plans.
Taking both her small wrists in one hand Garret began to tickle her mercilessly, causing her to flail her body this way and that, laughing all the while, tears streaming freely from her eyes. Relentlessly Garret continued the barrage, giving the small woman he was sure he loved an endless assault until the point she could barely breathe because she laughed so hard. Feeling that Linaya could take no more, Garret released her slender wrists and began to rise from the desk in an attempt to release her. But Linaya didn’t want to be released. Throwing her arms around his neck, Linaya dragged Garret back down onto her and hugged him tight for many moments. Finally, Linaya slowly relinquished her grasp, allowing Garret to rise anew. This time fighting back tears of sadness, she spoke shakily.
“I will go prepare to leave at once, though I fear I will not know what to do should I fail,” Linaya said.
“Do just as I have asked,” Garret replied softly. “Wait for me, and I will come to you.”
“Do you promise?” Linaya asked. “Can you promise me you will be OK? Can you promise me we will be together again? Can you promise me that I won’t be burying another man I love this season?” She no longer tried to suppress her tears. “How can you be so sure that all will go as you plan?” Linaya then demanded.
Though Garret knew the reality of the situation, and was aware he could promise no such thing, he replied as honestly as he was able, knowing that Linaya would not accept a promise that was a lie.
“You know I cannot promise, but I am sure we shall see each other again. The gods watch over you and I. Why should they bring us together for such a short time only to see us ripped apart again if we are not to be reunited? I have to believe that what I am doing is right. I have to believe that you will again be in my arms. It is the only thing that gives me the strength to carry on. Though I must fight this battle to save my kingdom, it is for my love of you that I will fight when there is no fight left within me. Gorandor as my witness, no blade or bow nor fire-breathing demon will keep me away from you forever,” Garret barely whispered, tears threatening to escape his own eyes. “We have to win this battle.”
“Very well,” Linaya stated simply as she rose from the desk.
Reaching up to kiss Garret upon the cheek, she changed her mind and instead grabbed the large man’s chin and pulled their mouths together for a long, passionate but saddening kiss. Releasing his lips, Linaya turned and strode out the door without so much as a goodbye.
* * * * *
An hour after sunrise the night-time chill began to burn off Valdadore as Mordal approached the great white walls of the capital city of this realm. What he’d heard was true: Valdadore was an imposing structure built to have every tactical advantage, but that was to keep armies at bay, not single men. Mordal eyed the immense stone walls as he approached, assuming that come nightfall he would have to scale one of them. However, as he neared the city he discovered quite the opposite. People by the hundreds were pouring both into and out of the city gates, and large tents and canopies had been erected recently outside the walls as if everyone prepared for a festival. There appeared to be only a pair of guards at the gate, and as such Mordal could not believe his luck. Valdadore seemed completely unaware of the impending doom already marching towards it. Though he had planned on finding the gates drawn and barred, here they stood open without so much as a question being asked to all that entered. Mordal had thought this portion of his mission would prove difficult, however he was beginning to believe he would be well on his way back home before the week’s end.
Passing through the gate unhindered, Mordal sauntered up the cobbled streets of Valdadore, looking for suitable accommodation and getting a feel for the city. Something was amiss, though he saw no signs of increased patrols or even extra guards upon the walls. He did not see any garrisons of soldiers marching through the city in preparation to leave, and he thanked Abernash for his good fortune. Valdadore lay open to him like a common whore, and as such Mordal planned to carry out his task this very night. But first he needed to plan an exit strategy.
For hours Mordal rode the streets on his black stallion memorizing the layout of the city. The task it seemed would be made even simpler following the completion of his mission for from every entrance into the castle complex a road stretched straight across the city in each direction to the outer wall. It would be a straight run from the castle to the outer gate if he ran into any trouble. If he didn’t, then Mordal decided he might just relax in the city for a few days before returning home to collect his reward. Valdadore was incredibly clean, and even felt welcoming to a man of his nature. Assured all was in order, the assassin grinned. Pulling on the reins, he led his mount back towards the poorest looking tavern he had seen whilst he explored.
* * * * *
As promised Seth allowed Marina to return to her congregation to spread his orders as more followers filtered into and out of the temple throughout the day. Knowing his time was limited, Seth needed to devour every piece of literature in the vault before midday, before he needed to begin preparing his own troops to leave the city. That being so he put Sara, Borrik, and Jonas to work alongside him, searching through the scrolls and tomes left behind from ages past.
“I don’t know what they may have called the method, but look for anything that deals with applying magic to weapons or other inanimate objects. They might call it imbuing or enchanting or something else entirely so pay close attention, but read as quickly as you are able,” Seth told the others before they each went to work.
What Seth did not expect was that barely five minutes into their work, Borrik thrust a tome into his face, his clawed hand covering most of the pages.
“My prince, I believe what you seek is here, or rather not here for that matter,” Borrik stated in his deep, gritty voice.
Taking the tome from Borrik, Seth carefully began at the top of the page, deciphering the ancient handwritten script as best as he was able. By all accounts the book appeared to be a journal of sorts accounting the life and actions of a man named Findalt and had been written by a priest of Ishanya. The further Seth read, the more he realized that Findalt was not a common man but one blessed by the goddess, like himself. The man was a mage of great power, though at some point his power was lost to him. The last lines of the second page Seth read, held the secret that Seth hoped would unlock the means by which he could recreate the method of infusing weapons and armor with magical abilities. They said simply this:
Findalt, having lost the source of his power, fears too that he will forget how to use it properly once restored. I think him gone mad in the absence of his blessing for he shows me a small leather tome, explaining to me that with the last of his power he wrote the secrets of his abilities within the palm-sized pamphlet. However upon swearing to protect it with my life, I open the tome to reveal page after empty page. Ishanya, having forsaken Findalt, has broken both his mind and soul. Though sworn to my duty, I shall protect the small tome of black leather as if it were of immense value, and shall pass on the duty to another when my time is ended. A promise sworn shall be a promise kept.
Seth could not believe his eyes as his mouth dropped open in disbelief. Each of his companions stood silently staring at him, each wearing their own version of a questioning look. It seemed impossible, though again Seth felt Ishanya’s hand playing with his destiny. Reaching behind his shoulder, Seth gave the strap that held his breastplate in place a swift yank disengaging the buckle. Allowing the armor to dangle loosely, Seth slid his hand and arm beneath his armor to the pocket in his trousers. Despite it appearing useless until now, Seth had not yet managed to decide to discard the thing he now extracted from his clothing. Pulling his hand free he held out before him a small leather tome. It was the same leather tome that, as a priest, Borrik had committed murder to collect for him following an order given to the priest by the goddess Ishanya herself. Seth was sure the scripture he had just read held the answer to unlocking what was written upon the apparently blank pages. Flipping the small, worn book open with his finger, Seth showed those in attendance the blank pages within.
“With the last of his power, he wrote the secrets of his abilities,” Seth repeated.
Pulling a small portion of power from the reserves he held from his battle with the insect-like Zoombas, Seth released it into the small book in his palm. Watching with his vision of the gods, Seth witnessed as the power danced along the surface of the book for many long seconds, as if seeking a point of entrance. Then all at once the transformation occurred. The cover rippled as a small golden glyph appeared upon the outermost edge of the pages which themselves began to pulse at first with a dull pink light, slowly growing in intensity and depth as the color changed gradually from pink to red and then again to purple. As the intensity of the purple glow reached its climax, it appeared briefly as if the pages burst into unholy fire before the flames and pulsing light extinguished. Written clearly upon the pages now were both words and symbols, but they were written with threads of magic, hidden from the eyes of everyone over the ages and everyone currently in the room. Everyone but Seth.
As his companions looked on with expressions of either confusion or defeat, Seth flipped through the pages, assuring himself that he would not have to repeat the process for each page. Then without so much as looking up at those around him he gave his instructions.
“Sara, find a room to rest and sleep through the day. You have training tonight. I know none of you can see it, but I have reading and other work to do. Borrik, make sure the men come to the temple here at midday when they have retrieved all that I ordered earlier and I will see them prepared and send them on their way. In the meantime, have everyone rest and eat as best as they are able. I need to be alone.” Seth said leaving no room for questioning or debate.
Without so much as a response, Seth’s companions left him to his own devices, each of them realizing the importance of the discovery he had just made and the tremendous burden upon him for his role in the upcoming battle. Alone, Seth stripped his breastplate off completely and rested it upon the floor. Sitting on the floor as well, Seth leaned against the wall and began to read the small tome. As he did so, his vast mind cataloged each passage, linking them together, making sense of the scribbling of a mage long dead and gone. Several symbols were described and depicted within the book. Each of these represented the pattern created by the life-force within it. Each one of them he could recreate out of pure power; each of them he learned how to attach to an item; each of them a secret worth a million lives.
Seth finished the book in less than an hour and sat soaking in the new knowledge and understanding of how the power worked within each and every thing upon Thurr. Even the wind was born of life power, though so vast was a single breath of wind that the power within it was too subtle to see unless you studied it for vast amounts of time. Seth had not done so, but fortunately his predecessor had. Apparently the mage had been long of life for he had studied many things. In the tome he shared only a small fraction of his knowledge, but it was imparted in such a way as to give the reader a much greater understanding of the power he wielded. Seth needed to test his new insight, and looking to his breastplate beside him, he found his first subject.