Book: Immortal MagicAuthor: Melissa MackinnonGenre: Paranormal Witches Adult Romance
Liam is cursed for disobeying orders. Centuries old and unable to die, he wants one thing – to find a witch powerful enough to break his curse and end his existence. Liam is called to Willow’s magic and its intoxicating scent, testing his vow of never falling in love again. He believes he’s found his answer in…
Hair color: Black, dyed multiple colors. He has a white trauma streak in his bangs which he dyes blue.
Eye color: red
Height: 6'5
Weight: 238
Sexual Preference: Bisexual
Other: Has scars over his left ear that have deformed it. The scars cross his temple and end just before his left eye. He has a multitude of other scars across his torso and arms.
Abilities:
Valden’s Circle: Chaín’s specialty. He can place a barrier around himself and others within a certain radius. It keeps out magic, both harmful and otherwise from entering the barrier. Similarly, it keeps any magic within the barrier alone. With repeated attacks against the barrier, it will break, but Chaín can reinforce the barrier several times before the strain becomes too much to handle.
He can also use it offensively, though that removes it’s defensive capabilities. The Circle is something only he can see. He can stretch it several feet around him. There are trigger points which he can then ignite upon someone stepping into the Circle. Depending on what kind of magic–they can be electrocuted, burned, frozen (thought freezing requires more energy than the others) or rendered immobile by the ground. This can be used against multiple enemies that step into the immediate vicinity of the Circle.
The Circle can also be used to travel to different areas–but only places Chaín has visited before. He can open a portal to the other destination, though it takes a lot more strain and energy than any of the other uses.
Elemental spells: He knows various elemental spells–lightning, fire, water, earth and wind. He is most proficient at lightning and fire, though he has advanced mastery over the others as well.
Various defensive magic spells: He can cast barriers around other objects, or to keep people out of certain areas–and if they attempt to enter the person will be killed or severely wounded. He can cast resistance spells over four people, including himself–resistant to fire, lightning, ice. Water resistance can also keep a person dry no matter if they are rained on, or in water–it holds for about an hour.
General: He can amplify his speed and appear to teleport short distances from how fast he moves.
Brief Bio:
Chaín was born the eldest of two, to Faldren Dulin and Chaska Arayani. He was fascinated by his father’s talents and occupation–the First Zard of Alsales. He wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps, be a great Zard as well and be an adviser to the monarch. He loved reading and learning, and often spent his days training with his father. But that all changed when Faldren was forced to give up his life for Alsales. Chaín became disillusioned with the idea of becoming a great Zard. He became less interested in his studies, and more interested in fooling around and ruining his reputation.
Chaín could not forgive the pain his father put he, his sister and his mother through. He vowed to protect them from pain and loss, not realizing that by deciding that, he could also leave them the same way Faldren had. Chaín never had any intention of becoming the next Monarch despite his age, and bloodline. And yet when his mother died, he was first in line to visit the Phoenix Trials. It never occurred to him that failing would earn him scorn among the whole of Alsales. It didn’t matter that he was studying and training to become a soldier. No, he was the eldest of the Dulin–he was meant to ascend the throne, not his younger sister.
But that didn’t bother him. This way he could be the knight and his sister would be protected. If one day he had to rise to his calling, then so be it. But for now, he was perfectly fine protecting Chase.
Date of Birth: 28 Aridi / E6.20162 AGP (the 28th of the month Aridius in the sixth Zard year of Eleste, world year 20162 After the Great Purge). Summer time.
Place of Birth: Valden City, Alsales
Currently living in: Valden City, Alsales
Spoken Languages: Alsalian, Fioren-known as the language that connects countries. It sounds similar to English.
Education: First & Secondary Education, Alsales Military Academy (AMA)
Occupation: Soldier.
Rank: Special Forces; Royal Soldier of Alsales: Edeioninkina
Fighting Skill: Alsalian Military Combatives, Alsalian Zaraido Style Blade Dancing.
Weapons: Long Blade, Short Blade, Pulse Grenades.
Likes: Fighting, reading, magic, speaking in her native tongue- Alsalian, Archery, exploring/adventuring, animals.
Parents: Faldren Dulin, First Zard. Chaska Arayani, Queen. //both deceased.
Sexual Preference: No such thing as sexuality in Praxon societies, but would be considered bi-curious.
Relationship status: N/A
General Physical Info:
–Ildrat of Praxon, have denser bones and thicker skin than Veruna, and even more so when compared to humans.
–As their diet consists primarily of meat and fish, they have three sets of canines which are sharper than that of any Veruna (though, small indigenous groups of Veruna, such as the Atviens, may exhibit Ildrat traits).
–They have heightened senses: they can hear more clearly, they can see much farther distances, and have a stronger sense of smell. They are also stronger and faster than the average human, and all of their senses and physical abilities can be amplified by their magic energy.
–Their average height (6'6) is taller than Veruna (and humans).
–They cannot contract diseases from Veruna, and most of their illnesses deal with their ability to use magic. Such illnesses are common, though they are treatable and often not life threatening. Ildrats, do not die of old age. They would have to be killed in combat, by magical illness, or in ritual suicide.
Abilities:
Can phase through walls.
Can summon Phoenix Fire, a flame which burns away other enchantments/hostile energy, can light an area and also be used offensively to burn her opponent on contact.
If a person’s mind is weak, she can control them at the loss of controlling her own body. A weak mind would be one susceptible to alcohol, drugs or in distress. People with higher intelligence are almost impossible to control, but even they in a weakened state can be possessed by her puppeteering.
Can conjure a blade from pure energy.
Can ‘teleport’ short distances- to be more accurate, she can look to a nearby area and move so quickly that it seems as if she is teleporting. Only used in short distances, and not for offensive maneuvers. It’s a general tactic any trained magic user can perform, much like using the energy around them to strengthen/quicken their movements and reflexes.
Brief Bio:
The youngest of two, Chase was born to Faldren Dulin and Chaska Arayani. From a young age she was infatuated with the idea of traveling and becoming an explorer of new lands and worlds. She wanted to lead expeditions into the unknown, and was curious of the sciences in other countries aside from her own. Despite her wishes, Alsales ended up in a war with the neighboring country Loesis. Her parents died, her brother failed to become King and Chase was destined to ascend to the throne. But things did not turn out that way either. She was instead put on the front lines to fight a war that had already been going on for too long. For one hundred years she fought, barely past the edge of maturity, and barely in adulthood.
Chaska never thought she would be Queen, much less the exalted kind. Alsales did not hold its royal bloodlines in permanent positions of power, though many did have seats upon the Councils. Her mother, nor father had sat upon any throne, and she had never seen the inside of Vale Hall. She was not a Zard, and she didn't care to be one. She had taken the route of soldier because it was easiest and because she felt she had no other skill. When King Glazaeus Sechan stepped down after his four hundred years were completed, the High Zard Council began the candidacy check, and she was called upon. There was no choice in the matter; she had to heed the summons. And so Chaska passed through the Phoenix Trials, not once believing the God-Spirits would choose her.
A/N: this and the previous chapter have some pretty big problems in terms of time, but I’m aware of that. There also maybe some confusion in the middle of Mykal’s scene due to copy/pasta issue, but i tried to fix it; i just wanted to get this out lol.
Chapter Three
“Oh, who’d have thought I’d miss the smell of baidrn keeps and season trees…” Leira sighed, looking ready to swoon. Beside her, Tesch smiled, admiring the look of nostalgia written all over his lover’s face.
“Home is hard to take out of you, they say.” Tesch leaned back against the thick wooden column that marked the welcoming entrance into Valden City’s South Quarter. Armed soldiers were hidden within the uppermost part of the trees in their surveillance balconies. Leira watched the other soldiers file in, waiting for the last of them to start processing their prisoners. The guards would be lagging behind as the Veruna tried and failed to keep up with the hurried pace of the Alsalian army. Unsurprising of their political prisoners, whose only exercise had been to lift goblets to their lips.
“Who says?” Leira crossed her arms over her chest, pinning the other with a pointed stare. “You dunno do ya’s, quote boy?”
Tesch groaned. “Must you do that? Speak in Fioren?”
“Gotsa problem with it?” Leira teased. “Then you better tell me all about who says these bortch for brains sayings. I’ve had about enough of you quoting ‘them’.”
“Maneithenin, please…”
Leira was about to continue teasing him when she caught sight of the soldiers tugging their captives forward. The Veruna were shackled with manacles on their arms and legs. Without a transport, they had been forced to use lesser means of containment. Leira saw them shuffling. She couldn’t help the smirk that quirked her lips.
“Where’s Karei?” Leira said. “Mykal’s been gone already twent minutes. He had t’have met with her by now. This’s her transfer. She’s got to take them to holding until we can ship’em off to Eleste City.”
Tesch peered around the column and up into the trees, but she was nowhere in sight. “I don’t see why we can’t be allowed to keep them in the Zard-Secured facilities. Doesn’t Lord Balanthe need to question them? Right now, the only thing keeping all out chaos within Loesian borders is those we left behind. And it wasn’t many. I saw to it myself. We need to send these thretch back home as quick as we can.”
Leira shrugged. “I’m sure there’s a reason for all this movin’ around tikk. Might be that there’s some issues with holding here cause of the attacks.”
The sound of an engine drew close behind them. A tarka rolled up hill from the pathway leading into the city. The large wheels came to a halt beside Tesch and the driver’s side door swung open. Out came Karei mumbling into her ear piece. Strands of auburn hair had loosened from her braid, and her uniform looked disheveled. Tesch shared a concerned glance with Leira before taking a step forward. He didn’t have a chance to speak.
“Where is Edeioninkina?” Karei said, glancing around as if Chase might appear from the trees.
“There was a problem. Your deserters, I believe,” Tesch said.
Karei’s face paled. “Are you positive? And she went to take care of it?”
“Yi. Is there another problem?” Tesch frowned at her stricken expression. Leira was beside him looking equally concerned.
Karei shook her head. “It wasn’t my fault.”
“Pou volida?” Leira arched a brow. “No one said it was. Things’ve been rough here. Can’t say I’d’ve done any better.”
Karei looked between the two of them, seeming to take some semblance of comfort from Leira’s words. The tightness in her shoulders relaxed.
“Maybe. I really must speak with Edieoninkina. We have been doing investigations on the deserters that we know of…it would be imperative if I could speak with her—and Chain.”
Leira glanced over at Tesch, wondering if the other knew what Karei was talking about. He shifted from one foot to the other, obvious uncertainty in his stance. Running a hand through her white hair, Leira huffed.
“After y’get these borch for brains to holding. I’ll tell Chase personally that you’ve got real important information for her, yaiduna?”
Karei wrung her hands several times, looking over Leira’s shoulder as if she hoped for the appearance of their superior. No one showed. Realizing there was nothing she could do except wait, Karei saluted the two officers and strode toward the bound prisoners. Leira watched her and two of her subordinates take the frightened Verunas into her own tarka. They drove off, but not before Karei flashed a worried look out the window, murmuring words into her ear piece.
“Should we request a tarka and return for Edeioninkina?” Tesch said.
“Yeah, I guess we ought to. C’mon maneithenin, let’s make sure our fearless leader ain’t got her head lopped off.”
“Leira, please…”
“Ainuna, Tesch, we’d’ve heard Leoth’s wailing from here.”
Tesch laughed in spite of himself. “Yes, I suppose you might be right.”
*
Not a minute after Leira and Tesch had acquired the tarka, the latter’s wrist comm beeped. It was a message from Chase with their current coordinates. Leira flashed a grin at Tesch as she started off out of Valden City’s perimeter.
“Told ya.” Leira grabbed the throttle beside her and shoved it forward. The tarka accelerated over the rough, dirt terrain.
“I did not doubt. I protested your lack of…respect.”
“You’re just too respectful. Chase don’t need that y’know. She needs a good team, good friends. All that.”
Tesch shot Leira a confused stare. “I never would have thought you felt that way of her.”
“Neh, just because I don’t care for the way she treats Leoth and how she’s always so bossy don’t mean I don’t like her or somethin’. Who else am I gonna pick t’beat cha Gaduk’s come hikin’ time?”
“Me?”
Leira laughed as if such a thought was ludicrous. A glance over at Tesch’s offended expression only made her laughter come harder.
“Not t’worry, maneithenin. You’re still as cute as ever.” Her last words were punctuated by the beep of Tesch’s comm as they closed in on their destination. On foot, the soldiers had taken a path through the trees, but in the tarka, the trees were too dense. They had to take the longer, narrow dirt path that circled around the noted location.
“Edeioninkina, are you receiving?” Tesch spoke slowly into the comm, frowning at it when he gave a garbled bubble of static. “You’re not coming through clear…”
“Tesch! We have one injured!” The static cleared and Chase’s voice came in fuzzy with interference.
“Did she say injured?” Leira and Tesch shared a concerned glance as the latter turned off the microphone. “Did we bring anythin’ for that?”
“I believe we have med supplies in the back. We’re not that far from the city, anyway.” Tesch turned the comm back on-line. “Are you in need of assistance?”
“Just wait there, we have your location,” Chase said, sounding deep and heavy at the end.
Tesch climbed out of the driver’s seat with Leira close on his heels. The energy signature of their comrades was coming close from the left amid dense tree population. As it grew closer, Tesch could hear Chain’s annoyed grumbling, followed by Chase’s stern responses. When the trio materialized from the foliage, the two of them rushed forward. Leoth sagged in the sibling’s hold. Chase removed herself from the tangle of limbs to open the back door of the tarka.
“What happened?” Tesch said, looking over Leoth’s form with growing concern. The blond Ildrat was unsteady on his feet and his face pale. He didn’t seem to be following the conversation occurring between the rest of them.
“They weren’t Gedian,” Chain said. “Ne, kiido, get somethin’ for’em!”
Chase shot a frown at her older brother. She searched through the contents of the cargo well, and fished out a large red box labeled DAISIH. Inside, there were four vials filled with colored, shimmering, liquids. Chase grabbed the emerald one as Tesch and Chain laid Leoth out in the backseat.
“That looks pretty bad, but for’em t’be this bad already—was the knife poisoned?” Leira grimaced as Chain pulled away the blond’s hand so that Chase could pour the vial over the wound.
“Seems like,” Chain said. “None of us are any good at healin’ though, so only can guess…”
“I was given enough medical training to know that, yes, the blade was poisoned. Luckily, it appears that it was quickly crafted. Had it been anything more potent, it’s likely Leoth would be dead by now.” Chase waved her hands for them to get into the vehicle. Chain followed her into the middle seat as Tesch took his own back in the driver’s seat. “Ata!”
“You’re thinkin’ our attackers weren’t prepped, is that right?” Leira said as soon as they were moving.
“Yi,” Chase said. “Because of our sudden orders, they had to act accordingly. Two of our assailants were possible security personnel and had been tapping into our secured feeds.”
“They wouldn’t have needed to tap in if they were security, Edeioninkina. They would have already had access…and in that case they’d have everything they needed. Especially if they heard of our return. Makes sense how they were already so close to us.” Tesch added.
“Precisely. We’ve no way to know where their Leader is headed. Have you spoken with Mykal?”
“He was off to Lord Balanthe’s while we were waitin’ for Karei. Said he’d comm us when he was done.” Leira said.
Chain tapped his own wrist comm, about to activate the messaging system to contact Mykal, but Chase grabbed his wrist.
“Wait.”
“But Chasaya, shouldn’t I tell’em to put the Secret Guard on alert?”
“We are currently unaware of the situation in concern to communcations. For all we know, our devices have all been compromised.” Chase looked from Chain to the others. “That means none of you may use the system unless you are certain of its security.”
“Ah, Edeioninkina, my comm would be safest then. I was working on modifications for the kinarainunanin. Our own secure channel, that’d be off from the military network.” Tesch said.
“Alright, then. As soon as we enter Valden City, then you send word to Mykal immediately. We must make haste to Gathin Manor.”
*
Gathin Manor was a large building built from all sorts of magic imbued materials. It was a fortress in its own right when it came to the incantations defending it from outsiders. It had stood the test of time with little renovation or change since its erection. The Manor was named after the third Alsalian King, said to have been ruling during the time of the God-Spirits. Mykal had come to the Manor several times before. When he was a child, it had been Chain and Chase’s home, and now as an adult it was where he returned to debrief the Lord, Roen Balanthe.
His visits were infrequent since the long campaigns in Loesis started, but in the years he had spent under Chase’s command, Mykal was often sent to speak with the Lord on their brief returns to Valden City. The last time he had been able to stroll through the forest and branchways, much of the City had been in shambles. Now, however, it was as if nothing had occurred. The buildings were once again whole, and while there appeared spaces of missing trees, they were less noticeable due to the new public plazas set amid them.
The Manor was erected between the Zard Tower and the Valden Military Academy but spaced in such a way that it looked to be much further. The trees were dense in this section of the city, and the buildings blended into the foliage, as if they had always been there. Mykal knew the path intimately, and felt a sense of peace traveling it. Despite his worry for the others in concern to the attack they were facing behind him, it almost seemed to dissipate with each step. It had been many years since he had been in Valden City. He had missed it.
He kept to the shadows, making certain no one saw his form as he traveled the quieter roads. There were plenty of perks that came with learning the art of shadow manipulation, especially having spent most of his military with Chain in the Special Operations Division. It was likely the other reason for his being sent to Lord Balanthe. It was best if no one ever saw him, especially not now when he was coming with such sensitive information. If Balanthe chose not to disclose this to the public, then it would be best if no one from the military elite was seen communicating with him.
Mykal reached the front doors of the Manor without incident. There were two burly guards standing by the thick wooden doors. They were Alsalian Cy, and had only been recently hired in the face of the city’s attack. The Cy offered their assistance to any of their neighboring Ildrat or Veruna countries. Mykal had known of their large stature, but he had never seen them in person. They were big, bald creatures, with thick skin decorated by neon carvings. Their dark black eyes stared down at him, thick fingers tightening around their axes.
“I have an audience. With the Lord, I mean.” Mykal tried, looking between the two of them.
The two Cy shared a frown. The one on the right with the dark blue lines stepped forward slightly. Mykal took a step back, looking between the two of them for some kind of understanding. The Cy scrutinized him from top to bottom, bending down lower to get a good look. Mykal leaned away, squinting.
“No appointments made,” said Blue in a low, guttural sound that Mykal almost didn’t understand.
“What? Of course there was. Edeioninkina sent me.”
Blue turned to Yellow and they shared another frown. Yellow then eased, and their postures relaxed. Mykal wondered if some telepathic message had been sent between them. As far as Mykal knew, the Cy were not capable of such feat.
“You are messenger, then?”
“You can say that, I guess.” Mykal shrugged, wondering if he should be insulted from the looks he was being given. “Might I go through now?”
“Said no visitors,” Yellow said.
Mykal felt his anger rising. How could he have been given the sign to come here if Balanthe was indisposed?
“The Pits do you mean? I jus’ told you why I’m here.”
A low grumble came from Blue as they lifted the wrist comm to their face. The Cy seemed to cave in on themselves, murmuring into the voice piece. Mykal could not hear what was said, but after a minute, Blue straightened.
“We received no answer,” Blue said. “You may enter.”
Mykal blinked, even more confused than before. “Ya didn’t even get a confirm, though.”
The two guards turned to grin at one another before looking back on Chain with a more sinister expression.
“The Magic will let us know if you lie or tell truths. The shields know, gluyffong.”
A grumble that might have been a laugh escaped both hulking figures. Mykal grimaced and passed beyond them. He had no idea what a gluyffong was but it didn’t sound like a good thing. He knew he didn’t have to worry, but the eager way in which the two guards had spoke about his possible misfortune made Mykal wonder if their hire had been a wise chose. He made his way up the stairs to the large red double doors. He pushed them open and felt a disturbing tingling sensation crawl over his skin. It wasn’t until he was a few feet within the Manor that the feeling dissipated. Mykal shook himself, a shiver running through him.
The walls of Gathin Manor were all white. There wasn’t a single painting to decorate them, only large stained glass windows that peered over the north side of the building. Despite the trees that covered the view of the sun outside, the windows still splashed light across the blank canvas of the opposite walls. Magic inside the glass captured all light and painted each depicted story like splashes of blood inside. It made the eerie, too-loud thump of the closing door that much more frightening.
Mykal couldn’t believe how empty the hall was. At one time, there were Royal Guards and Personal Guards milling about along with the manor keepers. They disappeared into side hallways and doors, never staying in one place for long. Mykal had never been able to imagine the manor empty, and now that it was, he couldn’t help but imagine the ghosts that drifted. He knew the truth was that the evacuated personnel had not been ordered to return. There was naught but a skeleton crew left. Either they were upstairs in the Lord’s Hall or something was amiss.
Mykal reached out with his aura sense, being careful to keep his magic signature as unassuming as possible. He felt four people upstairs, but didn’t dare reach out further. If he was right about the possible danger, he would uin any chance for a surprise attack. He sent a quick message to Chase before turning off his wrist comm completely. Mykal kept to the wall, keeping his feet light. The hallway spread in front of him, turning only once into a separate section of the first floor. Mykal knew there were other, secret passageways that could get him through the building faster, but he doubted the shields would allow him through. Chain had once told him those shields were even stronger than the one’s outside, and they used both to keep enemies out, as well as allow surprise attacks from Personal Guards or Royal Tower Guards. Mykal remained on the long hallway and raced up a flight of carpeted steps.
He would rely on his stealth. It was his specialty. He had spent years in the Black Ops Division and had been one of the best when it came to infiltration.
There were four people on the floor above. He could feel their magic signature, but didn't dare to sense any further. If he was right about the danger, he would ruin any chance for a surprise attack. He sent a message to Chase and turned off his wrist comm completely. The carpeted hallway stretched out before him. It cut right further into the rest of Manor, but going forward was a large staircase. Chain had once told him there were secret passageways that only some people were allowed to pass through. Mykal doubted that he would be one of those people right now. Before he took the first step, Mykal called upon his magic and drew in shadow to hide his figure. He had to rely on his stealth, now, and he hadn't spent so many years in the black ops division without learning anything.
The second floor hallway was as minimalist as the first. There were several more doors and at the end of the hallway, Mykal could see a turn that led further into the manor. More stained glass spread colors across the white walls. He didn't see anyone in his immediate vicinity, and even straining to listen gave him no sign of others. He pressed himself against the far wall opposite the windows, racing across splashes of light and slowing down in the panels of darkness. He reached the middle of the hallway where the door to Balanthe's personal office resided. From beyond the thick doors, Mykal could hear agitated whispering seeping out of the cracks. He only dared to walk as far as the hinges, and then strained to listen to who was speaking. Mykal wanted to burst through the doors, but he waited. He remained statue still, pressing himself flat against the wall.
“I told you—I don't have it,” came Balanthe's voice, hissing.
“You did once. Was there a reason for that? Really, Roen, you look terrible.” A low, deep voice answered. There was nothing humorous or concerned in the stranger's statement. Mykal felt a chill run down his spine. “You could have taken my hand when I offered it.”
“And betray everything I stand for?” Balanthe said, “Everything Narie stood for?”
The stranger sucked his teeth. “So you would keep her fool ideologies and believe everything?”
“She believed in hope and the future. There is nothing wrong with that.”
Mykal heard a loud thunk and a muffled grunt. No amount of straining could make the stranger's words clearerer. There was another sound of pain and Mykal jerked forward, about to open the door. He hesitated—and heard Balanthe's voice again.
“Nothing you do will change my mind, Dadarius. You can't control me, and without me, you'll never find the Orb.”
Mykal stiffened. A rush of strong magic came from within the room and Dadarius shouted. “Don't you dare! Roen!”
Silence descended for several seconds. A roar erupted beyond the doors. Mykal heard a crash, and then another, before the doors flew open. Mykal stuck himself even flatter against the wall, drawing in more shadow. Dadarius paused in front of him, looking up and down the hallway. He was a thin figure with a mess of brown waves atop his head. He was clad fully in black from head to toe in what looked to be the padded under jacket of Alsales' military uniform. His face was a mask of rage, but that was not what caught Mykal's attention. Three long jagged scars crossed over Dadarius' face from his left temple to his right jawline. They wouldn't be easy to hide.
“Guards!” Dadarius pivoted, and four Elda guard materialized from what seemed thin air. Mykal held his breath and thanked Valden he had been seen. “Track him down immediately. Send in Arlied. I have work todo. Roen Balanthe has abandoned his post.”
The guards disappeared again, and Dadarius stomped across the hallway back downstairs. Mykal waited until everything was quiet and still once again. Uncertain whether more guards were hidden in the vicinity, he didn't release his shadows until he was inside Balanthe's personal office.
The desk was a mess of broken glass and sheets of digipaper. A vase was shattered across the floor, petals of season blossoms strewn everywhere. Some of the digipaper had fallen into the water and the screens were crackling slightly with the disturbance. Mykal picked them up and scanned their contents. They were requests from the Tricordial Council for budget reviews as well as a list of items that needed to be signed and agreed to. There were reports of major power outages across the country. There was rioting in some of the major cities, and a request for a response to the displaced Alsalian citizens due to Loesian attacks. Mykal grimaced as he cleared the desk of glass and continued to rifle through the documents.
A panel was blinking at the edge of the wooden desk. It was Balanthe's Virtual Assistant and it had been damaged by Dadarius' violence. Mykal tried clicking several of the buttons in hopes of pulling up one of the vid screens, but every click was met with an error beep. He turned to the rest of the documents on the table, not sure what he was searching for, but looking anyway. A sweep of his eyes around the rest of the room told him what he already knew to be true. Balanthe didn't keep anything else of note in the surrounding decorations. The shelves along the walls and in the corners of the office were filled with nothing but knick-knacks; souvenirs from different countries. Dadarius had destroyed some of these as well, but his anger had been directed toward the desk, likely where Balanthe had been sitting in the first place. Mykal walked around it, zeroing in on the drawers. He pulled out the thin one just below the surface.
There were sheets of unused digipaper, along with touch pens which Mykal imagined had to have signed plenty of documents. He rummaged through the neat stacks and then shut it, turning to the larger cabinet at the side. There were files, labeled with different colored tags. Mykal grimaced as he checked each one, growing more and more annoyed. He had no idea when Dadarius was going to be back, or if the guards would find him snooping around. Mykal shifted through them faster until finally he had checked everything and was still empty handed. He rechecked the cabinet, and then the thin drawer. It was just as he was going to give up and call a retreat on himself that Mykal caught sight of one digipaper that wasn't so empty as the rest. He pulled it out of the small stack.
“By Ailiteira's wisdom, I believe I've found it...” Mykal muttered to himself. The digipaper was addressed to Chase herself. A grin slid over Mykal's face. Balanthe had been prepared for this possible confrontation, and had been thinking of a way out of it. As Mykal continued to read, his expression fell. He turned his wrist comm back on. It blinked at him with a new message. Mykal ignored it and sent his own. “Edeioninkina, I've some really bad news.”
*
Darus pulled on his hood as he stormed out of Gathin Manor, none the wiser to Mykal's presence back inside. He slipped straight from one building to next, slinking behind shadows and trees to keep out of sight. As easy it was to erase himself from memories, he didn't need to use up anymore energy than he already had. His body ached despite the natural energy in the air around him. He would have to take care of his next visit quickly, or else he would have to lie low again. He knew Roen had his own plans in place to thwart Darus. It would be just like him to fail at seeing his side of things. It should have been something he understood, but instead Roen had grown soft over the years. Or perhaps he had always been soft. Darus knew that he had been that way once, but his eyes had opened to the way to world really worked. It wasn't fair, and it definitely did not care for peace and love. Those were fantastical ideas, and if they were fantasy than he would keep it that way. Darus wanted the world to hurt and fail at its goals, just as his Narie had hurt and failed her own.
His destination neared. The Zard Tower loomed over him with its grand stature and size. The building melded with two trees, their branches peeking out windows and deforming walls to accommodate it. Anywhere else the building would have seemed unfit for living, but in Alsales where they had learned to coexist in harmony with nature, it was a symbol of unity. When it had been built, the architect wanted to find a way in which the Tower could reflect what it mean to be a Zard. Darus had believed all of that nonsense once upon a time. He had come to this great center of learning and studied as an apprentice to become a Master Zard. That was a long time ago. Now, Darus stood before the building as a revolutionary, ready to bring an uprising to Alsales and the world.
He shoved open the thick double doors, satisfied to hear them slam behind him. The lobby of the Tower was quiet and empty, save for the figure at the front desk. The Ildrat had not moved a muscle despite the loud noise. He was peering at an old text with one hand frozen in mid-air. The Zard Tower was still very fond of paper, and their books and tomes attested to that.
“Where is everyone?”said Darus. “Did they leave you here?”
The figure was dressed in Apprentice garbs and looked so bored Darus almost laughed. The Ildrat gave a clear look of annoyance.
“Never mind that. Tell me, where is the Council?” The question he layered with his magic and the change in the front desk was almost immediate. He straightened up and looked at Darus with slightly glazed eyes.
“In a conference. They are further up.”
Darus flashed a grin. “Dacha.. Do you know what the conference is about?”
“Not supposed to, but yes. They are planning what to do with the prisoners brought in by the officers.”
“Is that right?” Darus canted his head to the side a little, considering how he could use that to his advantage. None of the prisoners—a mixture of war criminals, and Loesian government officials—would know anything about the Orb. But if he could spin a tale that Roen and Petric had been working hand in hand and that there were some among those imprisoned who could help them find the wayward Lord, then it would keep them busy while he worked on other, more important things. It would mean having to make his way to the jails once he was through, but he needed this to work. “What floor are they on exactly?”
“42...Third below the Royal Conference room.”
“Wonderful. You've been a great help. Would you mind sending me through the wards? I'm sure they've changed since the last time I was here.”
“Last...time?” The Apprentice shook his head a little, seeming to pull free of Darus' control. Darus heaved a sigh before forcing a smile once more.
“Would you mind taking me up the to greet them? I have a very important message that needs to be delivered immediately.”
The Apprentice canted his head a little to the side, his eyes narrowing a little on Darus' face. “I...Yes, I can do that for you. What's your name?”
“Nothing you need to worry about. Zaraido Ahn knows me well enough, though I guess it's been a hundred years or so.”
The Apprentice seemed as if he wanted to ask again, but the magic was working its way into his thoughts and breaking them down. He drew away from his book, and turned to exit his station. “Follow me, soldier.”
Darus' brows rose in surprise. It was always interesting to see in what way those affected with his magic would react to it. The Apprentice seemed both under his spell and not, as if his mind was trying to free itself but he wasn't quite strong enough. Darus enjoyed the game that these kinds of people afforded him. He needed to use more of his magic, of course, but it made him better at puppeteering. He needed every ounce of practice he could get, because while he had twisted the minds of hundred, possibly thousands, there were always other minds that were different. He needed to know each and every one of them in order to see his goal completed. The Apprentice struggled and Darus only smiled as he telepathically pushed his suggestion deeper into the recesses of his mind.
The Apprentice led him down the hall behind the pillar that served as the Tower's greeting desk. It was a dark, long hallway that seemed to suck them in its depths before releasing them into the library. It was a wide open space full of rows and rows of bookshelves. Interspersed between them in corners were plush chairs that looked as cozy as those by a fire. Acolytes, apprentices and Masters alike were milling about with their noses buried in between pages. It smelled of wood and flowers from the tree reaching into every inch of the Tower. The Apprentice led him in a winding, almost dizzying path through the library and out. Darus remembered the path despite how many years had passed. This had once been his sanctuary; his second home. He had felt comfortable here, where everyone else around him was doing the same thing, working towards the same goal. Darus could no longer remember what that felt like. The person he had once been felt far removed from the person he was now. The world had stripped him of his comfort and now there was only this: the want of revenge and retribution.
The occupants in the library hardly glanced at the two of them making their way through the maze. The Apprentice glanced behind, probably to check if he was still following, before holding up a hand at Darus to stop. They had come to the bottom of a spiraling staircase that disappeared into a hole in the ceiling. Darus watched the Apprentice make his way up the stairs and disappear. The Master of Tomes lived in the alcove above the library, and she would be the one who could give permission to Darus' current goal. He couldn't hear their voices from where they had to be speaking, and so Darus peered at the books on the shelves lining the walls. There were plenty of them, all histories of Praxon from different regions in Alsales, to different regions in countries around the world. Some were journals, saved from those whom had passed, or those whom had lived through it themselves. Darus had once written his own journal as every child of Alsales was taught to do. The journals filled up the lower level of the Zard Tower library, in the massive archive kept for the personal history of Alsales. Every citizen was meant to write and fill up journals thorughout their life. When the time came, in a few hundred or thousand years, to give up their life for the better of Praxon, they brought the journals to the Tower and here their history was kept. Darus knew his childhood ones were kept in the Royal Bloodlines archive but none other would be submitted. He had stopped the journal writing ages ago when he joined the military after his Master's death.
“Dadarius?” called a voice from the hole in the ceiling. Darus looked up to seek out the owner, and here came a perplexed looking female Ildrat, her long olive colored hair spilling over her shoulders. She was nearly as tall as he was, standing at 6'6. Her dark brown robes spilling to the ground over her thin frame made her seem even taller and longer than she was. She took careful steps down the stairs, looking him over and likely scrutinizing his facial scars. “Jolon says you have need to speak with Zaraido Ahn and the High Council?”
Darus nodded, forcing himself not to narrow his eyes. Jolon appeared again, following the Master of Tomes down the stairs. “Yes... how did you know it was me? I never told...Jolon.”
“You know I watch the wards. Your magical signature has always been so...distinctive.” Her words were calculated and careful, but the smile on her face said she was happy to see him. The Master of Tomes, Brailise, had once been Darus' favorite person in all of Zard Tower aside from Narie. “You want me to alert Zaraido Ahn, I imagine?”
“Yes, please, Master Zard. You understand it is urgent? This must be spoken about immediately. It can't wait another second.” Darus didn't press too much magic into his words, certain Brailise would believe him either way. His voice had taken on a sort of panicked quality, trying to play on her emotions rather than waste his precious energy.
“Urgent in what way?” Brailise pressed, and Darus almost let his displeasure show on his face.
“Roen Balanthe has abandoned his post,” Darus said, emphasizing each word. Brailise's eyes went wide and Jolon stiffened.
“What are you talking about?” Jolon said, suddenly breaking his silence.
“We cannot speak of this. I must first go to Zaraido Ahn.”
Brailise hesitated and then with a quick nod, she turned to hurry up the stairs. Darus and Jolon waited there among the books again. From the lack of sound in the rest of the library, Darus knew no one else had heard and for that he was grateful. The least amount of ears knew he had come here, the better. He had to make this all very quick or else he wouldn't have enough time or energy to do what else was needed. Brailise was quick to return and in one brief motion, gestured Jolon back to the front of the Tower. He bowed, his expression troubled, and disappeared in the maze of books and Zards.
“Follow me.” Brailise led him to a rounded corner of the library. Darus would have thought an Apprentice, or Acolyte in the assistance of a Master, would have been holed up in this corner, but it was empty. A glance at the books told him nothing-- they were magic theory and combat analysis; both subjects well researched among the learners at the Tower. Darus waited, watching Brailise scan the bookshelf. She pressed a palm against one of the partitions, and a scrawl of magic script curled its way across the wood, lit with ethereal light. It flashed bright and then the bookshelf dissolved and fell away. Brailise disappeared into the darkness and Darus followed suit.
The stairs were steep and by the time they reached the landing, Darus was out of breath. He knew the Tower to have forty-four floors, and he had traveled at least half of them when he had been an Apprentice, but never had he taken the secret passageways. There were crawlers—automated panels that rose up each side of the Tower directed by the user. He noted Bailise's breath was coming short as well, and they paused on the landing before she flashed a smile at him.
“Trust me,” Brailise said. “This is a shortcut.”
Darus said nothing. It was moments like these that he doubted himself the tiniest bit. Here was someone willing to help him with no understanding of what was happening. The Master of Tomes had taken him at his word, where most would have pushed further for more information. Some would have checked to verify the information. But Darus had once been an Apprentice of the Zards, and he was a soldier with no record of insubordination. She trusted him. Darus was abusing that trust and though he felt the slightest hint of remorse at that, it didn't move him beyond.
“Where are we headed now?” Darus arched his brows, glancing up at the dark staircase and brick walls that surrounded them. There was a single, tiny window where a stream of light fell just in front of his feet.“Not further up, I hope.”
“Two more landings. But we have to wait. This isn't the right one.”
Darus frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, we are taking the passage of shadows and it would be very easy to slip into the other plane. The strip of light you see here...it must become dark twice before we can move on.” Brailise was farther away from the window than he was. Darus wondered what would happen if they walked up the staircase and what plane they would find themselves on. Perhaps if he failed to meet his goal, then he could disappear into one of these shadow existences, for better or worse. It was the first time in a long time that he felt curious about anything, and there was a part of him that wanted to abandon himself to that light. He shook himself just as a shadow obscured the light once, and then returned and passed on again.
“What was that?” Darus said as he followed Brailise up the stairs once again.
“Uncertain. We were in the In Between. It was affecting you. Was that your first time?”
“I'd never dabbled in manipulation...” Darus paused. “I'm not allowed to, if you recall, to learn anymore.”
“Well, when you've spoken with Zaraido Ahn and completed your business, there is still room for you. You are aware, yes?”
Darus did not answer right away. The last landing was coming upon them, and this reprieve was short-lived. He paused at the top and turned to look at her.
“No.” He shook his head, emphasizing his decision. “In no universe could there be a place for me here. I've seen too much and changed too much to become the person I was before. You understand that, don't you? All of this that you protect and have learned to love is founded on lies.”
Brailise looked taken aback. She frowned a little, looking away from his intense stare. Once she had mulled over his words, however, she looked back; her gaze just as intense. “I'm not going to pretend I understand, but I hope that the future shows you a different truth and that when you realize, maybe you will return to find the real one.”
Darus hummed. He wanted to agree with her, but what came out of his mouth instead was, “Shall we continue?”
Brailise nodded and took the lead again. She pressed her palms against the dark stone wall and it sparkled with spirals of Old Alsalian Script. A rounded wooden door appeared and she pushed it open for Darus. He stepped passed her with a somewhat teasing bow. The darkness abated in degrees as a hallway stretched out before them. There were fallen leaves and petals staining the carpet from the branches that stretched across the ceiling. On the walls hung portraits of older Zard Councils as well as Master Zards whom had made significant changes to society at large. Some notable non-Zards were also depicted; among them Chaska Arayani. Hers was of a war scene, sword brandished, riding a massive Lischka. The beast was leaping over the top of the hillside, it's paws stretched out and long, sun-kissed fur flowing behind. Behind her, there were other soldiers on Lischka, some carrying swords, some with bows and arrow. The portrait's title was inscribed beneath it; To Win Peace. Darus almost scoffed, continuing on. He thought they might have believed that in truth, but the world had not followed their dreams. Reality was an ugly place.
“Have you never been here?” Brailise's voice said behind him. He shook his head.
He passed several other portraits before another caught his eye. Faldren Dulin stared up at the ball of light hovering over his hand. Beneath his one it said: The Spirit Orb. Darus frowned, wondering why only the late First Zard was the only one depicted when it had taken eight lives to create. He was about to turn to Brailise and comment, when he noticed the portraits following—each of the former High Zards to lose their lives in the Spirit Orb's creation. Elevar, Adnil, Sevene... Darus bypassed each of their pictures until finally he came upon Narie's. They were all in the same pose as Faldren, holding up the Orb above them. There was a single word inscribed below hers; Hope. His breath caught and he turned to Brailise.
“...Does anyone even know this is here?”
“These were hung up in the Sanctum for some time. Ildrat from across Alsales went to pay their respects until the Tricordial Council decided that to have the portraits up any longer would be to have one foot in the past. They thought we should be looking forward to the future. Lord Balanthe was not pleased with the decision and tried to make it so that they would remain, but a vote was passed and the People's Court sided with the Tricordiate.”
Darus's frown deepened. “How wasn't I aware of this?”
“It may have been during your tour in Loesis. Narie...she was your sister, right?”
Darus looked back at Narie, her pale skin illuminated by the light above her. Her silver hair was pulled back and away from her face to show the awe in her expression. Her light eyes were narrowed, brows furrowed against them as if thought-provoked. There were black-red veins trailing from her hand down her arm, looking like poison running through them. Darus couldn't remember what she looked like at the end. He had been with Roen in the healer's ward, trying to calm his over-wrought, war-ridden mind. He had not considered that Narie would not be with them come morning, and Roen's state would only deteriorate.
Of the two of them he often wondered: who was worse off? The Soldier turned Lord or the Zard turned Soldier?
Darus shook himself and turned away from the portrait. He was wasting time. The past was gone and could not be brought back. He had made his decision just as Narie had; just as Roen had. There was nothing to do but to move forward. The Tricordial Council had been right about one thing: there was no choice but to move forward. But they were wrong to forget that the past had formed them. And that was why Darus would make sure they remembered.
“Where does this hall lead?”
“We're going to the God-Spirit Council Chamber... meant only for the High Zards to make decisions. Entering's forbidden but under the circumstances... Zaraido Ahn will understand.”
In truth, Darus had never heard of this particular council chamber. For as long as he had spent in the Zard Tower working to become a Master, he thought he had known every inch of its forty-four floors. Even if he had never been to them, he could say he knew of them. This room was meant to be a secret, and this foolish Zard had led him straight to it.
“Is it used for anything else?”
Brailise frowned a little as she glanced over at him. He could practically see her thinking, trying to understand what his question was for and whether she should really answer. She hummed and then with a slight tilt of her head, smiled at him.
“That's not something I can tell you, Dadarius,” she said. “Wait here, chabdaima. I will be right back.”
They were stopped before a blank wall, the same as the rest. There was no portrait hanging on the cream surface. Brailise set her hands against it as she had before, and more script glowed. Another door appeared and she disappeared beyond it while Darus stayed behind. He was a little worried she might tell First Zard Dante that he was suspicious. She might have led him to be judged, but there was nothing he could do. The shields of Zard Tower kept him from using his aida to teleport inside the room. He would be killed immediately. There was little he could do aside from wait and hope she had been persuaded of his sincerity. She had not given him any reason to worry, but there was no telling what went on in the mind of someone else. Darus remained still despite the urge to fidget. It seemed as if he waited forever for the door to open. He almost sighed with relief when it did.
Brailise's expression was a little strained and he could only imagine how the High Zards reacted to her intrusion. She held the door open, but despite that, there was nothing Darus could see. It was like ink.
“Zaraido Ahn has given permission...You may speak with them inside.”
“Dacha, Master Brailise. You have been a great help.”
“Remember what I said, Dadarius. There is always a place for you here should you change your mind.”
Darus took the door from her with a nod and watched as she left. It was times like these, when he spoke to such well-meaning people, that he wondered if he was taking the wrong path. Narie would be disappointed in him, but he supposed this wasn't really about her at all. His feelings of her demise would not be the same as her feelings, and that was fine. Darus stepped through the doorway and into the inky darkness. Narie would understand even if she did not agree.
He hesitated in his steps, faltering due to his lack of sight. His feet were on firm ground, but he could see nothing of it in front of him. He could hear the sound of water from somewhere below him, like a waterfall splashing into a river. There was a chill in the air, and the magic in the confines of this chamber felt ancient. As he continued forward, an ethereal light shone in the distance. He strained his eyes to see it more clearly, but it was only until he was upon it that he realized where it came from. The High Zards of the Alsalian Zard Council were sat upon carved stones that grew up from the edge of a large pillar. Beneath them was a light from somewhere below. It came through pale yellow stained glass that created a beautiful floral design.
“Dadarius Balanthe,” greeted the Ildrat seated across from where he had come. She was seated with her arms resting on her thighs, bent forward and considering him with narrowed eyes. A glance around at the other nine told him they, too, were staring in a similar fashion. Danteline Zelerimaeus straightened in her seat, clasping hands in her lap. The silence remained between them for a moment. “You realize this is an unprecedented event, yaiduna?”
Darus ran a tongue over the edge of one scar crossing over his lip. Despite all of his confidence, being in the presence of the First Zard, especially one like Dante whose reputation was frightening, Darus couldn't help a small amount of nervousness. “So I was warned.”
“Then you also realize that we are taking your concerns very seriously. If we find that you are attempting deceit, you will find that the God-Spirits aren't so kind.”
He looked up and around despite the absolute darkness that seemed not to be permeated even by this strange light. His attention returned to Dante and he offered a faint smile. Here was why Master Brailise had not worried too much about whether he was lying or not. The Council would take care of it should they find out. Darus wasn't so certain he could twist the truth enough to keep them realizing the true nature of his coming here.
“Remain still,” Dante said.
“Believe yourself t'be on trial, Dadarius,” A silvery voice from his right. The red-headed Zard sounded as if she were smiling as she said this. Darus could see her from the corner of his eye, but otherwise did not turn his head to make certain.
“The God-Spirits listen. So, careful what you say.” This was a voice Darus recognized from his Apprenticeship. He couldn't help turning to look, surprised that Ladus Acri had been given High Mastership. Darus remembered him to be average and ordinary during their Apprenticeship; definitely not in anyway fit to be a High Master.
“I'm always careful. Words are my specialty. Don't you remember?” Darus arched a brow.
“Dadarius, silence,” Dante said, making him wince as he turned. He offered an apologetic smile, making certain to keep sharp canines from showing, lest he come off as insincere. Magic pulsed, a tingling sensation just under his skin and around him. His gaze snapped around, but he hadn't seen any movement.
“For your soul we hope you remain truthful,” a throaty voice from behind him. Darus felt a drip of sweat slide down his neck. His nerves were at an all time high. But he could do this. He had to. Silence descended, and everyone remained still. After a beat, Dante stood from her seat and took one step forward. The others remained seated, but Darus felt their eyes on him.
“Master Brailise said you've come to the Tower because Roen Balanthe has abandoned his post. What exactly do you mean by this?”
“Exactly as you say. He has left his office, the whereabouts of the Orb with him.”
There was a collective note of surprise in the way the others around him shifted in their seats. Dante held up a hand to whoever was about to question and shook her head. Darus tried to formulate other answers that would fit the truth without revealing his own part in it all. If he could manage that, and get them to trust him, perhaps they would release this incantation and he could place his own upon them.
“How do you know about this?”
“I had a meeting with him,” Darus said. He felt a tingle slide up his arm and the invasive magic draw around him. “We had a disagreement. I asked him if he knew anything about the Orb and he became defensive.”
This was true enough. He had asked about the Orb, and Roen had become defensive. The exact details weren't important. The magic seemed to accept that and the tingling around his arms diminished. He almost let out a sigh of relief, but Dante was watching him. Darus felt the urge to move, but just as he once had to follow the orders of his superiors in the military, he stayed as still as he could.
“Lord Balanthe has never shown himself to be duplicitous. What reason would he have to remove himself from an office he was sworn into and take an Orb he cannot use?”
Darus said the first thing that came to mind. “I believe he was protecting Alsales. Or he thought he was. Zaraido Ahn, I do not pretend to understand my brother's reasoning for the situation. But I am here because I believe he may have been forced into this mess. The past few months he had been acting strangely but I reasoned that off to his apparent illness. And then I thought perhaps the illness had everything to do with the Orb...”
It wasn't Dante who responded this time, but the red headed Zard. “It's true Lord Balanthe has been unwell for reasons he has kept quiet. You think this illness is connected to the Orb?”
“Yes,” Darus said, treading on thin ice and relishing in the danger. “He was missing the day the City was attacked. Not even his Guards knew where he was.”
He said this as if he didn't know. He said this as if he had pieced it together after months of watching and waiting. The truth was he had caused Roen's disappearance himself. He had tried to bend his brother to his will, but his aida did not work on family. He could not make Roen do anything, but he could try. He could fill his mind with memories of their dead sister and tell him that this was for their father who sat in a farm miles away disgraced and unwanted. This was for their mother who cried over the loss of her daughter every year on her birthday. Darus had almost done it too. Roen, the former-soldier whose mind was already a mess from all he had witness, who was so riddled with guilt over the years he couldn't help his younger brother, had sobbed in the Sanctum of Eleste and taken the orb in his bare hands. Darus was certain he would pass it over and they would taken down Alsales together, but Roen took one look at Darus and apologized. In a sudden flash of magic energy, Roen had disappeared, leaving Darus standing in the Sanctum slack jawed in surprise.
The Orb was returned the day after, when security could be tightened and the City secured. Darus spent that night in Gathin Manor, taking care of Roen's fever and making sure he didn't die then and there. It wasn't wholly for his own schemes. Despite his anger and feelings of betrayal, Roen was his brother. He couldn't let him die. He supposed that such sentimentality was what had him in this situation in the first place, but he knew if he had the chance he would do it again anyway. As much as he wanted success, he so wanted Roen to be with him every step of the way. If he had to be his enemy in this endeavor, than Valden would make it so.
“And you believe this to have been a planned attempt on the Orb?”
“I was there. I saw him take it.”
There was a sudden raucous on all sides. “Then why did you not tell us then?” “What is the meaning of this?” “You say this now?”
“High Masters...you must understand. I would be testifying against my own flesh and blood. Have none of you felt so conflicted that you cannot do what you knew was right for fear that someone else would suffer?”
The magic was tingling stronger around his skin, but it seemed to abate at his words. This was not truth or fact, this was about emotions, and if he could deviate the conversation away from the past, then he might still be able to walk out of here having won. They quieted in degrees after Dante held up a hand once again.
“While I am in agreement with my fellow council members, you make a valid point, Dadarius. We have no proof of Roen Balanthe's betrayal. All we have is your word. What other reason should we believe you?”
Darus straightened, settling his gaze on Dante as if he wasn't worried that this was the end. “Zaraido Ahn... You didn't think I came here without doing my own investigation, now did you? I overheard talk among the Intelligence Divisions. Karei and her officers were speaking privately with Roen and I know for certain that there was talk of the missing Orb.”
The magic tingled dangerously, sliding into his thoughts to assess the truth of his statement. It would find no fault. He had overheard their talk of the Orb, only it had been recent and not farther back as he hoped his audience would believe. There was a tight squeeze, a warning that his words bordered on a lie. He kept himself from flinching or moving so that the High Masters would not suspect. It took almost all of his willpower to remain upright. He was being drained. Before Dante could speak, Darus continued.
“...And so I took matters into my own hands and confronted him. But he fled. I believe if we seek out his location we shall find the Orb. The best way to do that is to speak with our captive enemies.”
Dante crossed her arms over her chest. She looked around at the others and Darus could see from the corner of his eyes that most were taking his words with serious consideration. He felt the magic that had been holding him recede and vanish. Dante nodded, seeming to come to a conclusion of her own.
“I'm under the impression you've more to say. Do you have a proposition for us, Dadarius Balanthe?”
“I am glad you asked, Zaraido Ahn. I do. Custom and law dictates that you are meant to be our leader in the event that our current leader is removed from power. However...” Now he imbued his voice and thoughts with his own magic, pressing them upon the High Masters, feeling for who would fall under his control and who would not. Dante was a lost cause, but of the ten, he could persuade seven to his side. It was a majority, and majority always ruled. “I don't believe we can trust anyone in a position of high power who was in contact with Lord Balanthe.”
Dante stiffened out of surprise. He arms dropped and she took a step forward. “You mean to accuse me of treason?”
“No, of course not!” Darus shook his head, holding up his hands. He could feel the others balking at the thought that Dante would betray them. He could sense their thoughts trying to disentangle from his magic and he pushed harder against them. There was a reason he had become so talented with his magic. Most thought they could simply force anyone to their way of thinking, but Darus knew better. In order to make sure his magic would really take hold, the user needed to blend their desires with that of the targets. It meant being crafty and understanding the art of manipulation. Darus had not spent years in the intelligence division for no reason at all. “But...there is no evidence of your innocence. There is no evidence of your guilt. How can I trust someone who was in the same administration as one who is under scrutiny?”
“He is right, Zaraido Ahn...” Ladus Acri said. “I know you would not hurt our nation, but the people may not have that same faith. They will be looking for someone else to lead them.”
“Fine. I see nothing wrong with this. Chasaya Dulinara has finished her tour with the kinaraiunanin. She will take her seat on the throne, then.” Dante finalized.
“Neh, if we're listening to what Dadarius has said she will have the same problem.” this time it was the throaty voiced Zard—Arja. “And of anyone she has been in Loesis. It would be easiest for her to have been an accomplice.”
Dante's face was growing clearly disturbed with the situation as the control slipped out from beneath her. Darus forced himself to hold back a triumphant grin. He could see the gears turning her mind, trying to understand what was happening. Her eyes fell on him, standing there as still as she had told him to be. Darus remained somber, but he could see the way her eyes narrowed on him that she was no longer playing his game. She was beginning to see what was happening, and there was nothing she could do.
“This is an emergency. We cannot leave the throne empty, nor do we have the time for a Phoenix Trial. That could take days, and who knows what would happen.” A new voice chimed in, this one belonging to West Susur. Darus glanced over at the man. “We have another Royal Bloodline Candidate right in our midst. Place Dadarius on the throne for a short duration and explain to the people that Roen Balanthe has given emergency powers to his brother.”
“This would be unheard of!” Holli, the red headed Ildrat who would not be swayed by Darus' magic, spoke now. She looked as disturbed as Dante. “He has not been given an allowance by the God-Spirits and he certainly hasn't been tested by us.”
“But we don't have time.” Ladus shook his head, leaning forward in his seat. “As we speak, our other enemies could be readying to strike us. In a few days time, they will realize we have lost our Orb by the drop in our magic. It won't matter how much we have in the reserves, or how many times our Zards can replenish those reserves, the Orb is what gives us near-unlimited power. Our shields will be down within weeks and they will all now. Including Pidur which has been militarizing for months now, and we have simply allowed it.”
“I would not like it,” Darus said, bowing his head a little and scuffing his feet on the ground in a show of uncertainty. “But if I must...I will do what I can for the good of Alsales and hope that my Lordship will be short-lived.”
Darus could see the strain of Dante's jaw as she ground her teeth together. She knew something had occurred in this chamber, but she couldn't tell exactly what that something was. Or if she did already know, there was something holding her back from making a move. Darus couldn't imagine what that might be, but he thank the God-Spirits for any intervention on his behalf.
“We will...take a vote. Here and now to decide.” Dante settled into her seat again and with palms raised up shut her eyes. “I, Danteline Zelerimaeus, a child of Eleste, First Zard of Alsales, open this chamber to the eyes of our God-Spirits so they may cast their judgment on our vote.”
And so they continued repeating the words that their First Zard recited. Holliandra Ulithi went next, then it was Maevelen Dorthsun, followed by Laddius Acrivall, Keigenda Arabay, Veschka Dracony, Arjansa Gulwind, Ezanna Caspion, Westris Susurra, and finally Ratheri Yulinde. The lights beneath them each lit up, red for in favor, and yellow for not in favor. Eight were red, and Darus fought with himself to keep a straight face. Dante opened her eyes to look around at the result and wilted.
“Very well.” Dante rose from her seat. “Dadarius Balanthe, you have been granted emergency powers as our newly chosen Lord. May the God-Spirits be ever in your favor.”
“I accept.” Darus bowed low, and felt the smile spread across his face that had been fighting to show. When he straightened again, his expression had sobered, but he couldn't hide his smugness. Dante's aggravation was clear, and he didn't care. “I believe you have prisoners to interrogate soon.”
“Soon enough. For now, you must make a statement for your citizens. I hope you do not disappoint.” Dante spat without any regard for his newly acquired status.
“Don't you recall, Zaraido Ahn? Words are my specialty. This will be the easy part.”
So I’m working on what basically amounts to schooling in Praxon--but specifically in Alsales since my focus is Immortal Magic at the moment and that’s the main setting of our protags and antag. Other countries such as Laurs, Loesis and Pidur would have completely different ways of teaching their younglings.
All civilians of Alsales go through the same kind of starting education no matter what ‘class’ you fall under. Schooling is free. Everyone basically starts out when they are in what would be ‘toddler’ years. So, around 4 or 5, although the number would differ considering they age and mature fairly slowly in their formative years (age accelerates once their magic manifests more strongly during puberty lol).
It’s definitely not what we think of as school. Lectures sure happen, but they’re not really a focus. Mostly adults supervise children, given them some shit to work with and they kind of go from there. It’s a very hands on approach to teaching, allowing the kids to work out the problems mostly on their own. They work on social skills, there’s more physical classes, no homework--what they have is tasks to do after school and then they kind of present what they did and learned the day after. There is a curriculum, but it’s different and changes and students are encouraged to work toward what they like to do not what they’re forced to do.
So you have the ‘elementary education’ which i haven’t got a name for yet and then ‘secondary education’ which i also don’t have a name for yet. After secondary, which ends with everyone’s Scripting (basically finding out what God-Spirit your magic is aligned with and what aida/personal magic you have developed which is likely something you already know, but this is for official documentation) you get a choice: you either become an apprentice to someone/somewhere, go to a specific Academy teaching different kinds of skills that could put you in a specific industry, go to the Zard Tower to become a Zard Apprentice or enter the military.
Now if you decide ‘none of the above’ then you kinda become a floater--most would sort of say ‘you should go become an Acolyte at the Zard Tower’ or a Floater at one of the Academies cause you never know--but if none of that works out you can request a ‘Self-Discovery Grant’ which is basically money to go travel the country or the world if you so please for like a three or four years. After that, and you still are kinda like idk what to do with myself, then everyone kinda looks down on you including the government and you are considered a waste of space.
Not succeeding in your field of choice is also liable to put you in the ‘disgraced’ category, especially if you made big claims of success--so most kind of keep their dreams to themselves and just try to work their way up so no one snubs their nose at them.
Camping is tiring! Tried to write while out in the middle of trees. Didn’t really work because either I was worried about mosquitoes and other bugs biting me, or I was half-asleep in my tent. I guess what I’ve read is true--writing is best done when you’re busy. Or maybe I just needed a less bug-filled environment.
It did get me thinking, though! In my novel, Valden City, the capital of Alsales, is basically one with the trees. Their buildings aren’t any higher than the trees around them, and there are tons of bridges which travel from trees, to buildings, to other trees. There are roads, but they’re usually dirt, so all of their automobiles have heavy duty tires--all-terrain models.
It also made me think about travel by foot. There were plenty of hiking trails around the campsite and they take a while to walk through. I didn’t do much hiking, but I did take a bit of a trip through a little canal area where we hopped on rocks along the water. I admit I’m not the most active of people, and so that trek took a lot out of me. However, Alsalian culture is very active (it’s likely their culture would be the type to look down upon those who are heavy--but also on those deemed too-skinny. they’re very much all about being healthy, as even despite being immortal beings, they would still suffer from joint problems and the like should they become overweight and what fun is being immortal if your movement is restricted?).
Either way, hiking would be a sport--like racing to a point on a hill, or at the end of a long series of winding paths like a relay race. They’re pretty quick at it, especially if they get into the military. A three day hike might be shortened to two, if they’re moving fast enough, and they can use their magic to enhance their speed for a certain amount of time. Climbing trees and crazy stunts are the norm. It would make anyone wonder what would be out of the ordinary. An Alsalian who can’t hike or climb trees, perhaps? I suppose someone with very, very low magic ability would have trouble.
Just a thought, there isn’t anyone like that among the main characters.
