Sytravious: The Lost Warlock Of Moruz (The Oathbreaker Book 1) (10 page)

              “All the men who attacked us today bore the brand of the First Legion.  It was clear that they knew who we were, and now you have let one of them escape, free to tell their ruler where to find us.  Given that Lord Fheng never forgets his enemies, once he receives this information he will surely go to any length to ensure our deaths.” 

              Sytravious reflected on what Nyxseous had explained, and sensed something was amiss.  “But a few minutes ago you told Nysight you recognized the man from Lord Fheng’s chambers.  What would you have been doing there?”

              “Sytravious, do you not understand the serious danger we are in?  You have to find that soldier and slay him, or else…”  She began to tear up again. 

              Nysight closed his eyes and shook his head slowly, as if he was disappointed.

              “I am sorry mother.  I understand that you are fearful of the consequences, but I will do everything in my power to locate that man and silence him for good.  I know he will slip up and when he does, I will be there.  I will listen for rumors in town, he cannot have gotten far.”

              Every minute that passed, meant the soldier was more likely to get away and he did not want to bear the burden of knowing it was his fault that his parents were discovered.  “Do not worry.  I am going to rectify the situation right now.”  He got up and walked out the door, before they could stop him.  As he ran up the stairs, he heard his mother holler, “Wait, it is too dangerous!  Every guard in the city will be on high alert.” 

              Disregarding her words of caution, he began the search.  Sytravious now felt bad for his mother.  He had mistaken her fear of Lord Fheng for anger at her family.  If all he had heard about the twisted ruler of Moruz was true, then he needed to kill the soldier before word traveled back to the west. 

 

             

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8

Origins Of The Black Flame

 

 

 

 

 

T
he twisting center of the temple spiraled several stories above Havencrest.  Surrounding the building were breathtaking gardens, which happened to be the location of Raiven’s lesson that day.  She stared at the white stone wall that surrounded the temple, and yearned to be able to see beyond it.  Even a glimpse of the city below, would make her feel closer to her only friend, Sytravious.  Her newfound feelings for him had preoccupied her thoughts the past few days. 

She was concerned because once again, they parted ways in a hurry.  Soon after her arrival at the temple, she was alerted to the news of several brutal attacks in the Foxfire Woods.  If he had been hurt on his way home, she would not be able to help feeling somewhat responsible for his recklessness.  He risked everything to be able to see her.  Even if she did not wholly understand her feelings for him, she still wanted to know he had made it back safe, but she had not been afforded the opportunity to verify his well-being.

“Did you hear what I just said, Priestess?  Today's lesson requires complete focus,” Vienken scolded and shot a look of indignation at her.

Embarrassed, Raiven returned her attention to her instructor.  “My apologies.”

“Alright, alright.  No time for apologies, just pay attention.”  He cleared his throat and continued, “You have done well in demonstrating the power of Vesalys through your healing abilities, but there is more to our Goddess’ wonders than curing the sick and wounded.”

He had her attention now.  Anything beyond her everyday lectures about healing would be of interest.

“As the future High Priestess, it is your responsibility to protect the kingdom in a unique way.  Historically, wars in Valcrest are not won solely with physical strength.  Even with all the power and might our kingdom’s knights and soldiers possess, it has never been enough to win.  That is why we need someone, like our High Priests and Priestesses, as a conduit for the power of Vesalys.  So in light of the events that took place in the woods the other day, I would like to prepare you in case such a day may come.” 

Her excitement grew.  She would finally be more than just a healer.  Vienken smirked and kneeled down to open a wooden case he had brought with him.  Raiven was anxious to see what was in it. 

“My dear, it is a well-known fact that in times of danger, the kingdom will rely on you for your combat magic, just as they relied on High Priestess Jezra during the old war forty years ago.”

“I cannot wait to be as gifted as Jezra…” she trailed off as her eyes followed the spectacular war hammer Vienken lifted from the case. 

He held it up for her to see and her eyes scanned over it in amazement.  The emerald encrusted handle was inscribed with ancient runes.  A sharp golden spike protruded from the steel hammer.  Overwhelmed with curiosity, she grabbed it from his hands. 

“Young lady!”  He snatched it back from her.  “What do you
think
you are doing?” 

She frowned in disappointment.  “Oh, I thought I was going to get to use it.”

Vienken wrapped the handle’s leather strap around his wrist to secure his grip, before going through the motions of swinging the weapon.

“My dear, if you had been listening earlier, you would have heard me say I need to first demonstrate the technique.”  He raised his eyebrows while he reprimanded her.

“Right, sorry.”

“Moving on.  As you have probably gathered, this is a war hammer forged for magical use because not all of us are blessed in the way you and the Her Holiness are.  Priests, such as myself, cannot fully activate Vesalys’ power using sheer will alone.  For that reason, we rely on different tools to aid us in channeling and amplifying our goddess’ strength.”

              He turned to face a row of practice dummies.  At the sight of them, Raiven surveyed her surroundings.  She had not even noticed the mannequins there, and knew she had truly been distracted by her earlier thoughts. 

              “We will skip the rubbish and begin with a serious technique.  Now, watch.”

              He held the hammer while he summoned a magical white glow that seemed to transfer into the hammer.  The runes lit up in response to the holy power that filled the weapon and in one swift motion, he swung it back and ran at one of the dummies.  He clenched his teeth and snarled when the weapon made contact with the target.  Blue electricity flowed from the golden point, surrounding the wood, and scorched it without a sound until it dissipated to ash.

              He turned to Raiven with a satisfied grin and said, “I am a bit rusty, but you get the idea.”

              “A bit rusty?”  She chuckled and dashed up to her instructor.  “Can I try now?”

“Young Priestess, it is understandable that you greet this art with enthusiasm, but combat magic can be very dangerous.  The choices made while exercising such power must not be taken lightly.”

“Yes Master Vienken, I understand.” 

              He sighed and went on with the lecture, “In the past, the temple has used an ancient technique against our most powerful enemies.  This is referred to as the hand of Vesalys.  I have just showed you what the attack looks like coming from a priest like me.  It is now time to show me what you can do.”

The priestess knew she would have to beckon Vesalys from within, just as she had done for her healing spells countless times.  Though the intent was different, Raiven was confident she could do it.  She closed her eyes and started to concentrate.  Behind her, she could hear her instructor guiding her through the motions.

“Channel Vesalys’ strength that lives inside of you and focus it on the target.  Control the magic with your mind and spirit.  Use your hand as the outlet to release the attack on your enemy.”

A tingling sensation traveled up her body, giving her goosebumps.  She raised one hand above her head and waited.  Raiven could feel the energy building up.  When she opened her eyes, encircling her was a miraculous, pulsating blue electrical current.  The electricity snapped and crackled with intensity.  Enlivened by the force she had created, the priestess knew she was ready to attack.  Her fierce eyes fixated on the practice target when she swung her arm down with determination and force.

A blazing bolt of blue lightning cracked down from the sky, striking the ground in front of the dummies.  In an instant, the electric energy sprouted from the ground, crawling up the wooden targets.  She watched as the flashing current engulfed the bodies.  Then with a thunderous bang, the dummies erupted into splinters that disintegrated into ash midair.

              Raiven raised her arms up to protect herself from the blast, but sensing the incident was over she relaxed.  A few yards ahead, the ground was blackened.  She stood immobile, awestruck by what had just taken place.  Exhilaration overcame her, and she began to tremble. 

              “Was that…?”

              “Yes, my dear that was the hand of Vesalys.”  Vienken shuffled over to her side, chuckling uneasily.  When she glanced down at him, he gave her a kind smile.  “I did not expect it would come so easy to you.  You made my demonstration look like child’s play.”

              The sounds of running disrupted their conversation.  They both diverted their attention to the group of guardians that were barging into the garden.  A tall young man with a full beard and sandy blonde hair was leading the unit.  He was Bryce Duegar, Raiven’s personal guardian. 

              “What was that?  Is everyone alright?”

“Yes Bryce, everyone is quite alright here.  The priestess has just surprised us with her gifts, is all.”


Surprised
us?”  The guardian snorted in amusement before erupting into full on laughter.  “More like terrified us, along with every other citizen in the vicinity.  People will be thinking Vesalys is coming to strike them down.”

With a wave of his hand, he excused the other guardians that had come with him, and continued to laugh.  His jovial reaction was contagious.  Raiven and Vienken joined in the merriment.  This was the most enjoyment she had gotten from a lesson thus far.  She was wiping tears from her eyes when she saw him approaching.

“High Priest, Raiven, I need you to come with me at once,” Kenshiro ordered.

“What for?” she asked.

Ignoring the inquiry, her cousin exited the garden and headed in the direction of the castle.  Vienken followed the general, with Raiven and Bryce in tow.  The walk was a short and quiet one, with only the clicking heels of Kenshiro’s boots to break the silence.

The group approached the dungeon entrance, an unfamiliar area to her.  She knit her brow in concern.  After many flights of stairs and dark, damp hallways, they stopped at a well-lit room.  A smell reminiscent of decomposing animals she had encountered in the forest pervaded her nostrils.  She stepped into the chamber, only to see several corpses lying on stone tables.  A soft gasp escaped her lips, and her hand covered her mouth in horror. 

“This is the City Constable, Elric Duegar,” Kenshiro stated.  His indifferent attitude led Raiven to believe her cousin wanted to hurry and get to the matter at hand.  She studied the constable while he took a minute to inspect one of the corpses with his spectacle, before addressing them.  Not one of his features led her to believe he was related to her escort, but the surname prompted her to ask, “Duegar?”

“Yes Priestess, Duegar.  And yes, that brute behind you is my
little
brother.” 

The man smiled at her.  She could heard Bryce sniggering behind her as he stepped out of the room.  Kenshiro’s arms were crossed, and lips pursed.  The rapid tapping of his foot echoed in the room.

“Good, great, wonderful.  They are brothers.  Can we get on with business now?  Some of us have other matters to attend to,” Kenshiro said, “The constable insisted that you two aid him in this particular investigation.”

“Of course, how may I help you, sir?”  The old dwarf joined the constable in assessing the cadaver.

“As you are all well aware, there was a commotion in the Foxfire Woods the other day.  These are the casualties from whatever may have happened.  There are five men total.  Every one of them is missing the exact same section of the skin from their forearm.  I do not know the meaning behind it, but I have ruled out womach attacks.  I have determined four of them have been killed by a blade, while one shows no clear cause of death.”

Raiven’s heart dropped and her stomach felt queasy.  If she checked their faces, would she find Sytravious among the dead men?  While they discussed the findings, she drifted around the room, studying the corpses’ faces.  After examining the deceased, she let out a sigh of relief.  She did not know these victims.

“Priestess, if this is too much for you, I will not force you to stay,” the constable said.

“Thank you for your consideration, sir.  I am okay.  Now what were you saying?”

“I was saying if you look at his eyes, his sclera’s are bright red, which indicates some sort of trauma.  Though as we can all see, there is none visible.  I have also noted the cadaver gives off a faint smell of smoke, instead of decomposition.”

As disgusted as she was, she found herself leaning in to inhale the scent.  “So what does it mean?”

Vienken now chimed in, “All these factors are presumptive indicators of an old type of magic.  There is only way to be confirm our suspicions though.  Constable?”

The man grabbed a knife and pressed the tip into the cadaver’s chest until it pierced through.  He proceeded to slice the corpse open until he was able to peel the skin on the chest back from the body.  It did not take an expert to see the phenomenon that was laid out in front of them.  Having seen the shock on their faces, Kenshiro stepped closer to see what was going on. 

“And there you have it, our worries have been substantiated,” the old priest stated.  He squeezed his eyes tightly and shook his head in disbelief. 

The constable furrowed his brow in concern.  “I do not understand.  How can this be?”

Raiven continued to gawk at the opened cadaver.  Inside, all of the man’s organs were charred.  She had never seen inside of a person’s body, but she knew it was not supposed to look like that.  “What has happened to him?”

“The victim has perished at the hands of a VanDrake,” Vienken stated.

“VanDrake sorcery?”  Kenshiro’s skepticism was evident in his voice.  “That is impossible.  Their bloodline was destroyed long ago.  Constable, perhaps you should seek the aid of someone a little more knowledgeable.”

The dwarf narrowed his eyes at the general.  He picked up the constable’s knife and poked the blade into the scorched heart, causing it to collapse into a small pile of dust.  “Only VanDrake magic could be the source of such repulsiveness.”

“But Master Vienken, you taught me that Lord Byronicus VanDrake was indeed wiped out, along with his entire family, years ago.”

“That is exactly why it is imperative that we figure out what has happened.  If every VanDrake has perished, who is performing this type of sorcery?”  The constable appeared to be very troubled by the mystery.

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