Dark Tales Of Lost Civilizations (14 page)

The circular Hall of Ages stood just beyond the gold-plated gates of the palace. Great columns lined the outer wall, each thicker than two great elephants that populated the eastern plains of the land. The pristine white building in itself was simple compared to the palace, but the real wonder floated above the domed roof made of crystal. A model of Helios, a silent globe of yellow-orange flame, burned at the center, with ten other globes of varying sizes orbiting the miniature sun. Great sages, generations ago, had constructed the floating model of the Helios system using their accumulated knowledge of astronomy and magic. Even midway down the hill from the temple, Thoth could make out the green and blue of Gaea, and the smaller Luna orbiting it.

Thoth’s sandaled feet clattered against the pavement, arranged into repeating motifs of blue-and-white. It was a good thing the path toward the Hall of Ages lay empty. He prayed to Poseidon to guide his feet so that he would not be late. Thoth had seen Master Leus angry, and had himself angered him on several occasions, even. It was an experience he wanted to avoid above all else.

When Thoth arrived, panting and sweating at the great hall, a small crowd had already gathered on the uppermost floor directly under the crystal dome. Master Leus stood near a high table set at the far end of the chamber, opposite the heavy doors of the main entrance. He was conversing with another sage whose braided steel-gray hair and severe face made her look as old as him, if not older. Thoth weaved past groups of sages and nervous apprentices and stopped at a respectful distance from his master. He bowed low and waited that way, unflinching.

“I presume you were at the temple, lad?” Master Leus stroked his neatly trimmed gray-and-white beard and raised thick eyebrows. He was tall and sinewy, his figure well-maintained even for his age.

Thoth straightened, his full height not quite reaching Master Leus’s chin, but kept his eyes lowered. “Yes, master. The Oracle sent her warm regards.”

“I thought you have gotten rid of the child, Leus.” The sage’s voice was as severe as her looks.

“He may not have any magic in him, but the lad is bright and resourceful. Never in my entire life have I seen another person who can remember any Gesture I show, no matter how simple or complicated, at just one demonstration.”

Thoth stood straighter at his master’s words.

“Yes, but what use is remembering any Gesture when he cannot cast any spell?”

“Siboea, that is uncalled for.”

Thoth cringed even though Master Leus’s cold reprimand had not been directed at him. He stole a glance at the female sage. Mistress Siboea sniffed and squared her shoulders, but kept her peace. Thoth had heard of Mistress Siboea before. She was one of the strongest elementalists in known history. She was also the person whose footsteps his friend Isis always wanted to follow.

“Is there anything you wish of me, master?”

“No, but stay close. I want you beside me when the test begins.”

Thoth bowed again and backed away. The two high sages resumed their conversation and paid him little heed. Thoth took the opportunity to seek out Isis, who stood by herself outside one of the smaller doors, overlooking the eastern expanse of the great island. In the morning light, the prisms atop the pyramids, famous as the burial grounds of the emperors, glittered as though they were on fire.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Isis leaned against the marble banister and did not turn to look at Thoth as he approached her.

“What is?”

“Our kingdom. Even the gods are envious of its beauty.”

“Do not blaspheme, Isis. Please.”

Isis laughed and looked sideways at Thoth. “Forgive me. Sometimes I forget you still keep your faith in the gods.”

“Are you nervous about the test?”

“Of course not. The spells required are simple.”

Thoth knew it was not true; furiously complicated Gestures were needed to cast the spells set for the test. He also knew how gifted Isis was, and how truly simple the spells were for her. He had even overhead Master Leus mentioning that the test was just a formality for Isis. But he did not tell Isis this, for he did not want her to lose focus.

“I saw Mistress Siboea inside, talking with my master.”

Isis turned at this, her eyes alight. “Truly? Then I must do all I can to impress her.”

Before Thoth had a chance to reply, a gong was struck from inside the chamber to signify the start of the test. He squeezed Isis’s hand before running back inside to stand behind Master Leus, who sat at the center of the high table. Mistress Siboea took her seat beside him, and seven other sages joined them. The nine high sages would preside over the test, and would judge whether an apprentice was fit to join the ranks of the sages.

Seven apprentices would be taking the test, which was held on an annual basis. Two of them had taken the test the year before; one still bore scars throughout the left half of his body from his failure. They were the lucky ones. Many an apprentice had perished taking the test. Thoth looked at Isis, serene and composed, and prayed for her success.

The first apprentice, a young man not much older than Thoth, stood at the very center of the chamber and bowed to the high sages sitting before him. Thoth kept his eyes on the apprentice as he articulated a series of Gestures with increasing complexity. In his eyes, Thoth saw blazing trails of Power with each successful Gesture. Burning red and gold in mid-air, the intensity of the trails increased with the Power of a spell. With a single glance, Thoth committed each Gesture into memory; he knew when a spell was cast less than perfect.

“He has the third and the seventh patterns wrong,” Thoth whispered, mainly to himself, when the apprentice failed to cast his tenth spell.

Mistress Siboea turned and raised her eyebrows at Thoth. “How can you tell, child?”

Thoth almost jumped back, but managed to compose himself and lowered his eyes in deference. “Forgive me, Mistress. I did not mean to interrupt your concentration.”

“No, you were right. He did have the third and seventh patterns wrong. How can you tell?”

“I can see the Power burning when Gestures are made. They burn themselves into my head, and I can tell when a spell is not cast properly.”

Mistress Siboea turned to Master Leus. “You know of this? That is why you keep him?”

Master Leus smiled. He cleared his throat and looked sternly at the sweating apprentice. “Clearly you are not ready. Come back when you are.”

Isis came next, and she cast all the spells with speed and precision that sent most of the high sages nodding and smiling. Even Mistress Siboea leaned forward with interest.

“How old are you, child?” Mistress Siboea asked when Isis completed all her spells.

“Seventeen, Mistress.”

The other high sages murmured among themselves. Thoth and Isis were the same age, an age considered too young to take the test.

“If you can impress me with an elemental spell, I will take you under my tutelage.”

More murmurs, this time throughout the airy chamber. It was well known that Siboea never took any sages under her wing.

Isis bowed low. Thoth could see the excitement in her movements. Isis took a deep breath and raised both hands, each Gesturing a different elemental spell. Her right fingers traced a blaze of fire, and her left ones traced a spell of air. After the first few patterns Thoth knew what spell she was casting.

“Not
that
spell,” he hissed, barely audible. “It’s too strong.”

Mistress Siboea glanced at Thoth but said nothing. She looked at Isis in rapt fascination as the girl executed the complicated Gestures perfectly. When she finished the last pattern, Isis clapped her hands together.

Nothing happened.

Isis bit her lower lip and scrunched her face, but her delicate fingers remained steady. Thoth stole a glance at Mistress Siboea, and saw the disappointment in her face.

“She did everything right,” Thoth whispered.

Mistress Siboea leaned back against her stiff-backed chair. “Yes, she did. The girl is not at fault. The spell is indeed strong, and the Power does not respond well to our invocations of late. No matter. When she is more mature, perhaps.”

Before Master Leus could say a word, Isis repeated the Gestures with rapid succession. She finished the spell and clapped her hands with a mighty peal. A shockwave blew in a circle, and the image of a stork made of pure fire flew from her hands, flapping toward the tip of the crystal dome. The bird flew into the crystal, and a blinding flare shot out, illuminating all of the land and the islands beyond her borders in midday light for several minutes, before dissipating.

Isis slumped to her knees, panting, but her eyes were alight with triumph.

“What a find, indeed.” Mistress Siboea looked at Master Leus and the rest of her colleagues before continuing. “If you so wish it, I will make an elementalist out of you.”

“The honor is mine, Mistress.” Isis winked at Thoth, and he beamed at her in return.

When the fourth apprentice was in the middle of his test, horns blared from the palace and stopped him mid-Gesture. All the sages present rose to their feet and, without decorum, rushed out of the hall and headed for the palace.

“Thoth, Isis, come with me,” Master Leus said as he held Mistress Siboea’s hand and guided her out the less crowded back entrance.

The two of them fell into step behind the sages. Though somewhat subdued after hearing the loud horns, Isis could not conceal the spring in her steps.

Thoth smiled at his friend. “I was worried for you. The spell could have backfired.”

“That makes two of us, but the risk was worth it, don’t you think?”

“An elementalist, Isis. I am excited for you.”

“I will miss you, Thoth.”

He nodded and kept his focus on following his master.

All the doors to the palace’s Audience Hall were wide open, and a large crowd had packed the spacious chamber, from nobles to sages, priests, guild leaders and merchants. All of them made a path for the high sages as they made their way to the heart of the chamber. Thoth and Isis followed closely behind.

The High Emperor Demos leaned against his high-backed throne of gold and orichalc on a dais at the center of the Audience Hall. He was tall amongst his people, and his sharp features were still beautiful even though wrought with consternation. His crown of sacred sea-ram bone gleamed white in stark contrast with his onyx hair. His consort, the Minoan princess Aria, stood beside him in a flowing robe of white silk that clung to her curvaceous figure, with one hand resting on his shoulder.

Before them knelt a general whose plumed orichalc helmet and breastplate were matted with dried blood. Though his tanned face was stern and proud, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He took sharp, ragged breaths, but kept his stoic bearing.

“High Emperor,” he began with much difficulty, “we have lost the war with the Greeks.”

Pandemonium.

The high emperor raised his right hand, but it took long moments before a hush blanketed the Hall. “Care to elaborate how this is even remotely possible?”

“The Greeks have mastered magic of their own, and they have strong fighters.”

“Great-grandfather Prometheus should have foreseen this when he taught those barbarians the secret of fire.” High Emperor Demos tapped his throne in a lazy wave of his fingertips. “No matter. Our elementalists have a vastly superior control of magic, and the war elephants are a force to reckon with. How, then, can you come here, bearing this news?” His tone was mild, but his blue eyes bore into the general’s, unblinking.

The general started to answer, but collapsed on the polished marble floor face-down. The Oracle was the first to reach his side.

“Demos, you should have sent this man to me first.” The Oracle’s eyes locked with the high emperor’s in a direct challenge, and he had to look away after a few moments. She turned her attention to the man lying with a small pool of blood seeping from under his breastplate and articulated her long fingers in a complex series of healing Gestures.

Thoth kept his attention on her fingers as a trace of feeble blue-white flame formed in front of the Oracle. “Beautiful.”

Mistress Siboea tilted her head back toward Thoth. “What is, child?”

“The Power in her Gestures. It’s weak, but beautiful. So different from the sages.”

Mistress Siboea whipped around and grasped Thoth’s shoulders. “You lie. It is not possible for you to be able to see both the sages’ as well as the priests’ magics! Leus, tell me this isn’t true.”

The Oracle completed her spell and pressed both palms on the general’s head. He convulsed and screamed, but soon his breathing became deep and steady, and before long he was able to sit up again. The Oracle smiled and staggered backward. One of the priests ran forward and held her upright.

The general bowed at the Oracle and turned to face forward. “High Emperor, if it wasn’t for the Oracle’s magic, I would have thought Poseidon has abandoned us. Earthquakes swallowed our armies, and the magic of the elementalists either stopped working or backfired.”

High Emperor Demos shifted his gaze to Master Leus. “Is it true, what he said about magic?”

“It is possible, High Emperor. The Power shows signs of failing.”

“The magic of the priests too, Demos.” The Oracle held herself upright without support. “The healing I cast just now could have been done by any novice, but it took all I could muster to cast it. I think—”

Before she could continue, the Oracle slumped onto the floor as if boneless. Both the priest and the general reached for her, but an invisible force repelled them. The Oracle floated face-up off the floor, the beads clattering as her braids whipped about in a tempest that affected only her.

“Children of Poseidon,” she said, loud enough for the awed audience to hear, but in three voices instead of one: a little girl’s, a woman’s, and a crone’s. “Zeus comes.”

The tempest died and she floated gently onto the floor. Just as she landed, a mighty quake shook the palace and cracked the ceiling and pillars. Outside, earth and ocean swallowed a section of the outermost ring-island. The quake was the first of many that shook the mighty kingdom over the next few days.