I wasnt going to keep you in the dark forever, said young Ollardian. I just had hoped that it would go away like it always had before. And, honestly, I didnt know how to explain such a thing to you properly
So your magical addiction is a reversed one: not absence but presence of the addictions target triggers it, right? said Milian, excited. Its an extremely rare type!
Yes, Kosta nodded again. But not only a morok can trigger my illness. Any other child of the night can: drekavak, navka, siren, vetala, bargest, werewolf you name it. The closer they are to me and the longer I stay close to them, the worse my illness gets. You saw that yourself. It started with just a sore throat at the Magrove Forest but worsened every day I stayed in Firaska. I hoped that the monster would go away or that the Crimsons would kill it. Kosta lowered his eyes, suddenly shy. Ive never killed any dark creatures before. This morok was my first kill
Why didnt you tell us? We could've helped you! grunted Lainuver.
Bala turned to him and made a hasty forbidding gesture which, along with Balas sad face, explained a lot. Maraskaran alone, of all people here, knew how helpless a warrior was when a wave of moroks magic hit him.
Well, we could have told the Crimsons about the monster then, Lainuver kept going, let them face that thing with a couple of battle Sevens!
No, we couldnt, Orion stopped him and added with a tired reproach, Kosta already told you why. Just imagine what the mages would do to him if they learned that he can sense the darklings!
A heavy silence fell. It made the gloomy little room look even darker, despite the golden rays of the morning sun slanting through the open balcony door.
Kangassk Ollardian was right to warn his son against revealing his secret to anyone. And most likely about the mages instantly recruiting him too. They would drag him into every raid, use him to detect dark creatures as a village sorcerer uses a divining rod to find water. Oh, the boy is coughing again? Good! Reinforce the perimeter and tell everyone to stand ready!
Kostas life would turn into endless torture. How long would he live? An illness that makes you cough blood is no joke. Oh, but no, they would not let him die too soon! They would prolong his life and suffering! with medicine and magic and in the end they would assign a battle Seven to him so the donors would sustain his life as long as possible.
Sainar used to say that the worldholders and their mages would do anything for the greater good. So why wouldnt they sacrifice one boy to a "good" cause
That made Sainars own decision about sacrificing not one but nine boys to his Orders plan look quite ironic. But only Abadar, Orlaya, and their apprentices knew that, of course.
For the whole time of Sariens Sarra interrogation, it was touch and go whether Kosta would live. The boy steered through all her tricks and traps as gracefully as a pirate captain steers his ship through the Perilous Archipelago. Even Juel gave a deep sigh of relief after learning that. He wished he could somehow steer between his oaths, duties, honour, and the Orders mission the same way and bring his little team all the boys alive to the final point of the journey. It was a beautiful dream, a dream worthy of living for. One moment, it quenched Juels rage and lit a small candle of hope under his heart. But a reminiscence that rose in his mind the next moment barred its way
I dont want to lead these people to their death, said Juel, looking his master in the eye. Im not a murderer and not a liar.
I know, said Kangassk Abadar, crossing his arms on his chest. His cloak was flapping in the wind like a flag. I will be honest with you, Juel. There is no one to murder there. They died a long time ago, even before becoming the apprentices of the Order. You alone are real of the whole team.
I dont understand recoiled Juel.
I know. But you will, Abadar leaned forward. You will see the truth, all of it, very clearly, when you step onto the shore of the Karmasan sea with Hot Obsidian burning on your chest.
died a long time ago The cruel phrase echoed in Juels mind again.
He raised his eyes and saw that a lot of time had passed while he was brooding over the past, relieving the strange conversation over and over again in the vain hope of grasping the meaning of his masters words.
Bala was busy cooking breakfast for the whole team. Kosta had changed into a clean set of clothes and was asking Pai about a magical way to remove blood stains because plain soap had been no help. Orion was making a wooden flute for Jarmin, and Jarmin was nagging Oasis about more stories
With Kosta's life no longer in danger, there were chatter and laughter in the room again. More than ever, the small flat felt like home.
you alone are real of the whole team another echo rose from Juels memory.
The austere Faizul hid his face in his hands. He felt like crying now, as a helpless little child would.
Chapter 7. Divide
When I was small
My sworn oath was spoken
And I will honour it whole.
My word was given
Ere my mind was woken
When there was peace in my soul.
I kept my promise
Through the years, unbroken
And I have won me a sword.
If I could return,
Knew what it might betoken,
Yes, again I would give my word.
Max Milian, when he was a child
Einar Sharlou was enjoying the view opening from the college loftiest tower. He was alone there, on the balcony, alone with his thoughts.
Those were the last days of spring but the weather was summer-hot. It turned the whole city into a giant frying pan and made the college moat the only safe haven for everyone suffering from the heat. Einar could hear students and other kids splashing in the college moat and deeply regretted being unable to join them. A magister's status had its downsides, indeed
With a tired sigh, Einar turned away from the city and gave the lush green of the Firaskian forest a long, yearning look. There was shade, beautiful, tempting shade under the ancient cedars; and quiet. If only that charming place werent crawling with dark creatures like the one his young friend Kosta had killed recently. A twelve-year-old ambasiath.
The morok was about two centuries old. Einar was the one who had put its head into a formaldehyde jar in the college museum, so he knew that for sure. Just like most mages, Einar Sharlou usually considered the ambasiaths way a waste of magical potential. But sometimes, their deeds made him doubt himself. Kostas famous victory over the moroks was certainly one of those. And all when he, Sharlou, must finally decide what to do with Pai!
Pai Prior was a talented boy; even more: a boy living and breathing his dream of becoming a mage. He studied so hard, he shone so brightly! He was everything Einar dreamed of being and was never going to be, but instead of getting jealous, the junior magister wanted to help. After these months, the very thought of letting such talent go to waste became unbearable to Einar Sharlou.
But accepting Pai to the college was easier said than done. Mages and ambasiaths had an unspoken treaty that forbade either side from recruiting children from the other. Overcoming that was no laughing matter, especially for someone standing so low in the mage hierarchy as Einar did
A scream interrupted Sharlous thoughts a painfully familiar scream.
A Transvolo done properly looks like a ripple in the air for an outside observer, a slight blur similar to the one you see when hot air dances above a frying pan or a Firaskian street on a summer day. That ripple plays tricks with the observers vision, making it impossible to spot the exact moment when the Transvolos caster appears.
The Transvolo witnessed by Einar Sharlou above the college was wrong, horribly wrong. There was no peaceful ripple in the air, no gentle blurring of vision. No, the fabric of reality itself had twisted in a tight knot that burst with a sickening gurgling sound when the caster of that abomination appeared. Pai Prior.
If it wasnt for Einar Sharlou who had happened to be there by pure chance, that fall would have killed the boy. Yes, Pai knew levitation spells: both his own and the classic one, but lifting yourself with a levitation spell is no easier than lifting yourself by your own bootstraps. Einar caught him with a hastily cast levitation loop just in time.
The magister lifted Pai to the balcony and released him there. The child mage was ghastly pale, his teeth chattered, he trembled like a leaf in the wind, clearly shaken by the experience. His saviour looked no better.
Lets go to my study and drink some coffee, said Einar Sharlou. Pai nodded, a blank expression on his bloodless face.
A cup of steaming coffee and a chocolate cupcake restored Pai in no time he even started laughing at his mistake but did little to calm down his young mentor. Einar wanted details how exactly Pai had cast that horrible Transvolo and wanted them now.
You are lucky, lucky kid! he said, covering his face with his hands. The basic principles you dont understand them at all. I cant blame you they take years to learn and comprehend but attempting Transvolo without them is pure madness
But master Sharlou! I noticed some similarities, patterns, and Pai tried to chime in.
I know, Einar stopped him and added softly. I know. You are a very talented lad, Pai, and it shows. But, please, next time, take me with you. I havent built my bridge to casting Transvolo yet but I know the theory well. And another thing: dont experiment with height yet, work on the ground level. Next time, no one may be there to catch you.
For many years, Einar Sharlou had been dreaming of this moment, the moment when he would see the stars of Transvolo for the first time. Of course, he had always imagined casting it himself, not just following a thirteen-year-old mage. But the stars were no less beautiful for that.
One of them was closer to them than the others, Einar could even see one of its biggest planets, a gas giant, slowly moving in front of it. So thats why Pais Transvolo was wrong: its path came too close to a star, to an alien sun harbouring alien worlds. For a moment, Einar felt a burning desire to know what kind of worlds they were but he had no chance even to ask; the stars disappeared, replaced by brief darkness followed by the colours and sounds of the real world.
Einar and Pai crash-landed on the library floor and stood up, surrounded by students, magisters, and librarians, all looking at them with their mouths agape. Milian, the only smiling face in all the crowd, put his book aside and cheered the Transvolo mage who, he knew (unlike the rest of the crowd) was Pai and not Einar. Awakened by Milians hearty cheer, the library hall roared with happy voices, all praising Sharlou for what they thought he had done.
Your targeting still needs work, Einar whispered to Pai. You missed the spot by four halls!
I know, smiled Pai, almost glowing with pride and joy. Sorry, master.
***
Juel! Pai's learned Transvolo! That was Jarmin, greeting the team leader with a happy yell when Juel returned from his training on the college grounds. And Ive finished my painting! added the little boy no less happily.
Juel took a deep breath, leaned against the wall and stood there in silence for a while. Then he slowly sank to the floor and sat there, cross-legged and bow-backed like a sullen stone gargoyle on a graveyard.
Juel, are you okay? asked Jarmin, all his mirth turned to worry in an instant.
Im just tired, said Juel. He didnt even try to sound convincing.
After that days excruciating training in the blazing sun, the news of Pais success became a final blow to the young Faizul. Reality shoved his true mission into his face again and there was nowhere to run. Indeed, if he were to try, his own master, Kangassk Abadar, would find him even beyond the charted lands and kill him, slowly. Same with Irin, Lainuver, and Kosta: their Kangassks took the Orders oaths as seriously as Juels master did. The rest of the boys, those with more liberal masters the rest Sainar would find and destroy himself.
Juel Hak had no choice. He had to go. And he had to make everyone follow him whether they wanted or not. Strangely, these thoughts helped Juel calm down, and when he did, a dream, fiery, rebellious dream, lit up under his heart again: to subvert the Orders expectations and instead of sacrificing the boys to the mission, lead them safely to Benai Bay.
Juels breath steadied, his emotions stopped their frantic dance; the young warrior was at peace with himself and felt safe on his journey again. It was a false feeling of safety, he knew, but just like wild Faizuls, his people, the ones he didnt even remember, he used self-deceit often to keep going and knew how to trick himself into believing the lie. So he did.
Tell me about your painting, Jarmin, he said, in a surprisingly good-natured way. What kind of world is it?
Oh, its Primal World, of course! Jarmin explained, eagerly.
Primal World musingly repeated Juel and smiled, as sincerely as he could, sealing that dream, that lie of his.
***
In the library reading hall, empty in the evening, Einar Sharlou gathered the rest of the junior magisters. They didnt even try to act serious. All of them were their usual selves, what senior magisters called mere kids in mage robes.
Einar made a nervous gesture asking for silence. His peers hushed up a little, half-curious about what he was going to say.
Do you know why Ive gathered you here today? asked Einar.
His audience four junior magisters nodded.
Its about those Lifekeeper boys, said Mariana Ornan, the youngest of them all. Young though she was, that mage was much closer to casting her first Transvolo than Einar.
Exactly! he said, trying to sound brave. That wasnt easy when Mariana looked him in the eye. I need your help, my colleagues and friends. Let us accept the boys into our college. We can do that even in the absence of the senior magisters
Only if we vote unanimously, remarked Ronard Zarbot (Aven Jay Zarbots younger brother was obsessed with laws; his growing up with the head of the Crimson Guard for a sister was showing again).
Yes, I know Einar cleared his throat. Well, Pai and Milian are young but we can help them catch up with grown-up students and
Heh, I can already imagine the elders faces when they hear the news! Mariana chuckled, not kindly at all.
Krynn and Leona Sarion twin sisters exchanged puzzled looks and nodded simultaneously. Einar always found their ability to understand each other without words uncanny.
Listen, Einar, Krynn spoke up, dont we have a kind of non-aggression pact with the Lifekeepers? We dont recruit their kids, they dont bother ours, etc
But Einar tried to say.
The Lifekeepers from the Temple of Life will be even less happy than our elders. You realize that, right? said Leona.
Einar felt a cold lump of fear growing in his throat and swallowed nervously.
Good to know that youre aware of the consequences. Krynn nodded with an approving half-smile. We get it. Every shlak brags about its own swamp, so to say. Ambasiaths are just a waste of magic, etc.
Yeah. She means that well support you but only if the others say yes first, translated Leona.
Mariana, Ronard? Einar Sharlou turned to the remaining two, unmasked hope in his eyes. What do you say?