The fortress city of Elys sat at the base of the Barrier Mountains, its walls surrounded the huge city of roughly ten thousand and closed off the entrance to the small valley that led to the college of Illusion. Large towers with bluish green stone roofs dotted the walls in even intervals; the stones shined softly against the afternoon sun. The city was a dense mass of houses and markets that filled the area for what seemed like miles. Their wooden frames and colorful ceramic roofs made it look like a blooming forest nestled against the mountains. Merchants squawked trying to sell their goods as crowds of people moved like a flowing river. In a small Inn resting on the edge of the wealthy district sat Grigor and Therok. The young knight sat with his back to the street nibbling on a piece of bread. Therok sat across from him watching the people walk past, an annoyed look rested upon his face.
“It has been two and a half days now.” Therok said, irritation in his words.
“I know sir, but there is not much we can do.” Grigor replied in between bites.
“There would be if Duke Goldbeard didn’t own this town.” Therok said, his tongue clicking “His lackey didn’t even give me the time of day!”
“Sir, you can’t call Lord Keenwood a lackey.”
“I know you are right, but so am I. That man has no mind of his own.” Therok huffed, crossing his arms. “Only does what his ‘master’ wants.”
“Is that not what a good noble does?” Grigor asked with a sly smirk on his face.
Therok laughed, “You know what I mean.”
“To be frank sir, I really do not. You know I am barely versed in these kinds of things.”
Therok sighed “Grigor you are to be the head of your house in a few years, you need to learn these things.”
“I know, I am trying to do better.” Grigor chuckled.
Therok laughed with his friend for a moment before resting back into his seat. Glancing over, he motioned for a waiter and a few seconds later, a young man in a formal black suit approached and gave a slight bow.
“Yes m’lord.” The waiter said .
“Can you put this on my tab, and please send another message to Sir Kai. I truly need my replacement wand at once.” Therok said.
“Of course m’lord, I shall send it right away.” The man replied while still bowing before turning on his heel and walking off.
Grigor and Therok watched the waiter until he vanished into the Inn before resuming their conversation.
“You know, Sir Kia is very busy, being one of the only true wand smiths in the city.” Grigor said.
“I know, but I paid a high amount to get it as soon as possible. Casting without one is really wearing my mana thin.” Therok said, rolling his shoulders with a sigh.
“I can only imagine.” Grigor said, finishing his meal.
“I could always teach you!” Therok laughed.
“No thank you m’lord, I'll stick to the Axe.” Grigor said with a smirk.
“If you wish, but on another note, where did Verona run off to again?” Therok asked.
“I believe she said she was going to the orphanage. Said something about, ‘If I’m going to be stuck here, the least I can do is help. Unlike these worthless nobles and high lords.’” Grigor said in a bad impression of Verona.
“She does have a fiery spirit, that is for sure.” Therok laughed, “Should we go check on her? I would hate it if she attacked a rude noble.”
“Agreed, shall we head out then?” Grigor asked.
Therok nodded and the pair rose from the table, strolling into the densely packed street and Therok looked around. The houses and businesses lined the side of the road, most were two stories with a few three stories dotted here and there. They were packed together so tight there was little to no space between them, which made finding your way somewhat difficult unless you already knew where you were going. Heading to what Therok believed was the northwest, the two walked along trying to stay shoulder to shoulder in the swirling mass of bodies.
“You know, for this city being on lockdown, no one is truly worried.”
“It is a bit strange, I agree.” Grigor replied while looking at the passing faces.
“If these escaped slaves were as dangerous as the guards tell us, why is no one acting like it?” Therok asked.
“Well, between the high walls, and rune towers that dampen magic, maybe they assume it's safe.” Grigor said, looking around at the high built stone walls peeking over the roofs.
“Could be, but those don't stop a mage, they merely weaken them.” Therok said under his breath.
The two walked in silence for several minutes down the winding streets. The roar of crowds passing by reminded Therok of an ocean shore. The only difference was the ocean smelled a lot better. As they got closer to the warehouse district, the people became more sparse. By the time the two entered the warehouse district, the streets were basically empty of life. The pair stopped in the center of the road when a few feet ahead of them two males dressed in rags with black hoods and masks concealing their faces emerged from a side alley. Grigor took a step forward, getting slightly between the pair and Therok, his hand gently resting on the hilt of his dagger. The men noticed the young pair and stopped their conversion short.
“Hello.” Grigor said politely to the pair
“You two awful fancy lookin’ for these parts.” replied one of the men as he looked the two olive skinned males over. The man noticed the taller of the two had slicked back brown hair, a dark blue tunic, leather trousers and a black shoulder cape draped over his left shoulder, while the other man was shorter by a few inches with short black hair, a brown tunic and trousers with light chainmail over his chest. A great axe was tied to his back and the man could swear he saw a dagger stashed in the noble's belt.
“Ah, well we are merely passing through, so maybe our attire is a bit off.” Therok said with a smile.
“Is that so?” The man on the left inquired, “And where might ya be off to?”
“Just visiting an old friend.” Grigor replied.
“A friend he says.” said the man on the right, nudging his friend “Like someone lookin like that could ever have a friend around here.”
“Haha, right!” replied the other man “So, why ya really here?” The man asked, his tone getting serious.
“And what is it to you?” Therok replied, narrowing his eyes.
“Oh that a serious look he be givin.” chuckled the man on the right.
“We do not want trouble gentlemen, so please let us go about our day.” Grigor said, jumping into the growing tension.
The two men stood there glaring at the young nobles. After a few seconds of silence the two nodded at each other and moved to one side. The pair walked past the two shady men and continued onwards unopposed. Grigor glanced back every few seconds to make sure they were not following and once he saw them turn and head off in the opposite direction, he relaxed.
“Well, that was an odd encounter.” Grigor said with a laugh.
“Agreed, but it's not uncommon here.” Therok replied with a sigh “Where is this orphanage? I feel like we have been walking for hours.”
“Should just be around the corner.” Grigor replied.
The pair walked for another thirty minutes before they stood in front of the orphanage. It was an old run down two story warehouse that they quickly converted; its roof was an off white beige and its stone exterior was grimy, to say the least. Therok sighed looking at the sad state of what the locals called a building.
“This is the orphanage? It looks horrible.” Therok said, looking over the building and grimacing at its awful state.
“If I remember, Verona said it was an old warehouse no one owned. So the local sect took it over and made it into an orphanage.” Grigor said, tapping his chin in thought.
As the two spoke, a young woman stepped outside with a smile. Her long black and white robe and blonde hair tied up into a bun gave away that she was one of the sisters who ran this place. When walking towards the pair, it seemed as if she was gliding above the ground, reaching them she spoke in a soft tone.
“Good eve m’lords.” She gave a slight bow “What can we do for you today?”
“Good eve, I am Grigor, and this is Therok. We are wondering if our friend Verona is still assisting you.” Grigor said, returning her slight bow.
The woman tapped her finger to her pink lips while her blue eyes gazed up in thought. “Ah, yes I do remember Miss Verona. She left about an hour ago, I believe it was to meet up with a friend.” She said looking at the pair.
Therok looked from the sister to Grigor with a puzzled look, Grigor returned it for a moment before looking back at the sister.
“Did she say where?” Grigor asked.
“She did not, sorry.” The Sister replied.
“That is okay, thank you.” Grigor said, giving her a slight bow.
“Of course, best of luck.” The sister replied with a bow, before turning and walking back into the orphanage.
As the sister walked inside, the pair turned and walked off. Heading back down the street lined with warehouses and small industries, the two looked at eachother, sharing a look of confusion.
“I wonder where she went off to, and why not leave a message for us?” Grigor sighed, shaking his head.
“Maybe she made a new friend? Who knows, but we can ask once we find her.” Therok replied.
“True, but where do we even start?” Grigor asked.
“Well, by the sounds I hear up ahead, I assume there is either a market or a gathering, could be a good start.” Therok replied.
The two walked for another thirty minutes or so, getting lost only once they finally found a large market filled with people. The market was a large square that held easily over two hundred small market stalls; the outer edge was lined with buildings that held more luxurious shops. People swarmed about the stalls, buying and selling goods they needed while a few guards patrolled the area for trouble. Therok sighed while scanning the area, attempting to spot Verona. After several seconds, he gave up and searched for a food stall instead; spotting one not too far from them, he nudged Grigor who was still searching the crowds for Verona.
“We should see what foods they have for sale, once we are able to leave we could stock up.” Therok said with a smirk.
“That's a fair point, and I don't see Miss Verona.” Grigor replied, following Therok to the food stall.
It only took the pair a few steps to reach the stand. Looking over it, Therok saw it had a variety of cured meats and sausages displayed on a five foot table. The meats on the back of the table sat on small ornate boxes. Peering over them, he noticed the meats in the back were higher in price. Looking past the meats, Therok saw several crates and an old man who looked to be in his early fifties resting behind the table.
“Good eve m’lord.” The old man said in a ruff voice.
“Good eve.” Therok replied while still looking over the wares.
“Anything you want?”
“Not at the moment, but when I get ready to depart I think I shall return for some of these sausages.” Therok replied .
“Hmph, well when that time comes I'll be here.” The man huffed.
Therok chuckled softly and nodded to the man. While he continued to look over the wares, Grigor was looking off to the right. Far on the other side of the square a group of people were starting to form.
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“What's going on there?” Grigor asked mostly to himself.
Therok looked up from the table and over to where Grigor was looking and he noticed that a few guards were also becoming aware of whatever was going on.
“Well this is interesting.” Therok said.
“Do you know what’s going on?” a female voice asked.
Both Grigor and Therok turned around to face the new, yet familiar voice; it belonged to Verona. The woman was wearing a pair of black fit trousers and an off grey blouse, her red hair was pulled up and back into a ponytail. She was also carrying a package in her arms wrapped in paper and twine. Therok laughed once he locked eyes with Verona which caused the girl to raise an eyebrow.
“What’s so funny?” She asked.
“Oh nothing.” Therok replied with a smile.
“There you are Verona, we were looking for you.” Interjected Grigor.
“Huh? Why were you looking for me?” She asked.
Before either could reply a scream came from behind the men, the pair quickly spun on their heels and looked toward the commotion. The group of people had formed into a semi circle around what looked like a man in a ragged cloak. The three instinctually moved closer to the group to get a better look and as they did, four guards quickly emerged from the crowd. The men were in basic gear, padded leather greaves, a basic iron helmet that only covered the top of their heads and a padded tunic with a small rectangle of chainmail covering their chest. Two guards had short swords and shields that held the city’s crest, the third had a two handed sword upon his back.
“What is going on here!?” The tall guard with the two handed sword yelled.
The trio was not close enough to hear whatever reply the person who screamed said, but by the time they reached the outer edge of the crowd the guards had all drawn their blades. The tall guard gripped his massive sword while yelling and glared daggers at the cloaked individual.
“Get on the ground now! If you resist, we will use force!” the tall guard roared.
The cloaked man just stood stone still in the middle of the three guards, his hood and cloak concealing his face and most of his body. Therok wondered why the guards were so high strung, glancing over to Grigor and Verona he only became more confused. While Grigor was just watching the scene unfold, Verona’s eyes grew wide and filled with something strange. Before he could ask she dropped her package and flung her arms up as if ready to block an attack. Therok quickly snapped back to the cloak figure, peering deeply at the man Therok could see trace amounts of mana being pulled into him, along with something else he couldn't quite figure out.
“What is he doing?” Therok asked under his breath.
The guards took another few steps closer to the cloaked man, almost in striking range when Therok and everyone around him felt the air shift and the pressure increase. In an instant the man's cloak burst open revealing his thin skeleton frame and ragged clothes. An immense power surged forth from the man, pushing the guards and some of the people back.
“Therok! There isn’t enough time!” Verona yelled at him before starting to chant.
Therok was lost in thought but his instincts quickly took hold, and without skipping a beat, he followed Verona’s lead. Raising his hands before him, he began to chant as people around the cloaked figure started mumbling and began to back away.
“Get behind us!” Therok yelled to Grigor and the people around them.
Grigor didn't hesitate and quickly got behind the pair as they chanted louder, a few people that were confused followed Grigor's lead and crammed in behind them. As they did the cloaked man's hood blew back revealing his pointed ears and pale skin which had begun to glow a holy white. The guards yelled something to each other before attempting to rush forward. As the guards reached the elf, his, Therok’s, and Verona’s spells all activated. The pair's spell rippled forth a few feet in front of them, the air bubbled and hardened into a ten foot by five foot wall of solid air. In the same instance, the elf’s body erupted in a blinding white light, tearing forth from his flesh and engulfing the market. Therok yelled and shut his eyes as the light burned his retinas, he could feel the pressure hit the wall in front of them. The force pushed both Verona and Therok back a few inches, the screams of people echoed out but stopped quickly, and the smell of charred flesh filled the air. Therok opened his eyes, blinking harshly trying to get the spots to vanish. He looked around and noticed several things, his and Verona’s hands were severely burned, and the market around them was now nothing but a scorched graveyard. The whole scene was nothing more then smoldering stalls and corpses; Therok shook his head before looking back at Grigor and the handful of citizens that survived behind their shield. Grigor’s face was stoic, but there was pain and sickness behind his eyes. Therok fought to keep his stomach's contents as he spoke.
“Are you all alright?” Therok asked through gritted teeth.
Grigor nodded but continued to scan the area, his face lightened and Therok followed his gaze. At the far end of the once market, several guards poured in, they all wore the same as the three that were vaporized earlier, except for the one at the front; he had a red stripe of cloth tied around his right arm. The guard scanned the area and quickly saw the few survivors and began making his way over while most of his fellows fought to keep their lunches down. As the man approached, the civilians began to panic as their emotions had finally bubbled over. Several began to scream and cry, a few fell to their knees and prayed. A young girl sobbed while reaching out to a smoldering corpse only a few feet away.
Poor thing, I pray it wasn’t both her parents. Thought Therok
The guard slowed to a rushed jog as he closed the distance, his face was young but aged with years of service. Therok wondered if this was the first time he saw this much death, it was for him at least. The guard spoke, but it was still muffled, the ringing hadn't truly died off yet. Therok shook his head and pointed at his ears before the man took a for more steps closer and yelled.
“Are you alright?”
“No.” Therok yelled “What in the Gods was that!?”
The guard either didn't know or didn't care as he looked Therok over and decided he was fine enough. He quickly turned his attention to the civilians and started yelling questions. As the guard walked off yelling Verona grabbed Therok's wrist, a warm sensation formed from her touch and within minutes the ringing faded away.
“Oh thank the Heavens.” Therok said smiling at Verona who smiled back before grabbing Grigor's arm and repeating the process.
By the time Verona finished, the Guard with the red cloth was back and asking more questions. His face was thankful, but his tone was stoic.
“Can either of you explain what happened here? Most of the civilians are claiming you two saved them.”
“Not really.” Therok replied, his hands still red and aching .
“Well that doesn’t help.” The guard replied, noticing the injury “You all should head to the church, they can heal you all up. It’s just beyond the market in that direction.” He finished while pointing to the steeple that poked over the buildings.
“Thanks.” Therok said.
“I’m pretty sure it was an elf.” Verona chimed in.
“An elf you say?” The guard snapped his focus to Verona “Male? Female?”
“I don’t know.” She quickly replied.
The guard sighed “It’s alright, I will come see you all at the church after I finish here. I will have more questions, do not leave until I arrive. Understood?”
The group nodded and began to shuffle around the still smoking corpses towards the steeple peeking over the burnt buildings. More guards began to appear pushing the growing crowd back from the scene. The three quickly ducked into an alleyway and wrapped around the masses. Now on a sparse street Therok looked at Grigor, his face still mostly stoic but there were hints of pain and sorrow bleeding through. Therok knew Grigor was a mighty warrior but also knew he had a kind heart, which Therok loved about his friend, but could become an issue later on. Shifting his gaze over to Verona, he saw something similar etched on her face, but when she shifted her gaze and met his for a moment he saw something else. In those vibrant green eyes burned a fire of rage, one so intense Therok swore he saw two small suns deep within her pupils. Looking away he buried the thought, and the three continued on in silence.
After forty minutes or so, the group was a few dozen feet away from the church, its large steeple now in better view. Its roof held several angelic female statues that encircled it, its black tiled roof contrasting harshly against its beige white exterior. As the three closed the distance, more details of the church came into view. Most notably were the stained glass windows that depicted the Goddess known as “The Mother”. She was shown to have vibrant pink eyes, raven black hair that flowed past her shoulders, and skin of bronze. The robes she wore were a radiant white trimmed with black and gray, while she held a scepter of pure gold in her right hand. Her left was pressed against her chest as she peered down at her loving flock.
“So the church of the Mother has finally graced this city as well?” Grigor said, his tone was slightly off.
“It was only a matter of time, besides, this Sect is the more sane of the three.” Therok replied as the church grew closer.
“Who cares about what church it is?!” Snapped Verona “We need to get our wounds healed then leave here.” Her tone was angry, yet hinted at fear.
“You heard the Captain, or whatever he was. He has questions for us, besides where else could we go? The city is still on lock down, and I doubt it will be lifted after what we just saw.” Therok replied.
“Well we need to find a way to leave, what we just saw should not have been possible!”
“Why is that?” Grigor asked, the three now stopped standing off to the side of the main road.
“Why is that?” She mocked “It is because what we saw was dead magic!”
“How so?” Therok chimed in, now becoming truly curious.
“Well, I have only read about it, but what that elf was chanting was old Elvish. A dead language, but more importantly that spell, I believe it was from the elfish magics.”
“Read? Where did you read that? All books on elves are either in the Grand Library under lock and key, or destroyed.” Therok said, his eyebrow raised as he peered at Verona.
“Well not all of them, a few slipped through the cracks, but that's not important here. What is, is that if one was able to cast that spell who says more cannot? That was one of the weaker spells as well.” Verona trailed off as if getting sucked into a long lost memory.
“That was a weak spell?!” Grigor snorted.
“It was said the elves were cruel and did take pleasure in making and testing horrible spells on their subjects.” Therok added.
“Either way, we need to leave.” Verona exclaimed.
“Fine, we can talk about this after we get healed. My hands are killing me.” Therok said, looking at his now blistered and angry red palms.
With that settled, the group continued on and up towards that church. Reaching its massive oak doors that easily towered ten feet and were carved with more images of the Goddess, Therok knocked. A few moments later, the doors swung open and revealed a young man with brown hair dressed in the same attire as the sister who ran the orphanage.
“Hello, how may I help you?” Ask the priest with a warm smile.
“Hello Father.” Therok said, giving a bow, “We seek healing, we were caught up in the incident at the market.” He finished while showing his injured hands to the priest.
“Oh my! Those do look bad.” The priest said with worry “Come in, I can start the healing process at once.” The priest motioned for the three to follow as he turned and entered the church.
The group followed the priest inside. The church was not massive, and as such did not have a ton of decorations. The inside had several basic pews, with a large statue of the Goddess behind the simple altar. The stained glass windows allowed plenty of light inside, making the whole thing feel warm and welcoming. As the four approached the altar at the far end of the church they chatted more.
“So I do have some bad news.” The priest said.
“What is that?” Therok asked, his eyebrow raised.
“I am not as proficient with the healing miracles, as a result in order to heal both of you properly, it will take a day or two.” He said, a bit of shame in his words.
“Is there no one else here? Not that I am ungrateful.” Therok said.
“No, most are off on church business and the other priest….” He said, trailing off as if lost in thought. “Wait here for a moment, I may have someone after all!”
With that, the priest quickly vanished into a side door leading back into the depths of the church. The three looked at each other puzzled but shrugged and thought nothing more of it. After several moments, the priest returned but he was not alone. Behind him entered a tall pale woman with blonde hair in a bun on the back of her head. Her priestess robes flowed elegantly around and down her frame. Though her most striking feature was the thick pink ring wrapping around the edge of her blue irises. The two clergy approached the three and the female bowed as the priest introduced her.
“Everyone, this is Archbishop Nevan.” He said with a smile “Oh, and my name is Father Caim.”
“Pleasure.” Therok said, returning the Archbishops bow “I am Therok Virborn, this is my bodyguard Grigor Runo, and our friend Verona.” he finished, Grigor and Verona both bowing as they were mentioned.
“I do wish we were meeting under better circumstances though.” Nevan said, sighing while resting her hand on her cheek. “Now, let me see what has happened to you.”
Therok and Verona both offered their injured hands to the Archbishop. She gently hovered her hands over theirs and began to chant. Her eyes glowed a soft pink as golden pink flakes of what looked like snowfall from her palm. As the flakes touched the injured and blistered skin it began to heal and grow anew. After only a few minutes, both of their hands were completely new, even a small scar on Therok's left palm had healed and faded away.
“Amazing.” Therok said, looking at his hands.
“It really is.” Verona added while doing the same.
“Well, I am happy to help.” Nevan said with a giggle.
“Most do not have that ability, you must be very proud.” Grigor said, looking over Therok's shoulder at his now healed hands.
Before anyone could reply, the group’s attention was drawn to the now flinging open front doors. With a loud crack they hit the walls as three hooded figures rushed in and covered half the distance in a matter of seconds.
“Excuse me! Can we help you?” Father Caim shouted.
The three stopped and the center one removed his hood, revealing his pale skin, short black hair and pointed ears. Taking a step forward, Grigor instinctively gripped the hilt of his dagger, and Therok moved to now face the three intruders.
“We are here for your head!” Roared the elf while pointing at the Archbishop “Death to the Goddess!”
After the words left the elfs’ lips all three began to chant in the elven tongue. Wasting no time, Verona and Therok both began chanting their own spells. In the meantime, Grigor lunged forward with great speed, his hand like a flash as he donned his dagger and thrusted it towards the center elf. The elf barely moved in time, his hand raising up and meeting the blade, it sank deep into his palm until it hit the hilt. He roared with pain and Grigor responded with his own war cry. Grigor’s muscles pulsed as he pushed forward once again, the elfs’ hand standing no chance as the dagger ripped the hand in two. Free now, the blade quickly found a new home in the elfs’ left eye, a wet squelch and the elf groaned and went limp. Grigor quickly grabbed him by the tunic and held him up as he yanked at the now lodged dagger. In the same instance, Verona’s spell activated and an air barrier appeared in front of her and the clerics. Therok’s spell also went off and two arrow heads of solidified air tore through the room. The elf to the right of Grigor was stunned at the quick and brutal death of his comrade and as a result, he did not see the spell until it was too late. Therok’s spell tore a hole in the elfs’ chest, causing him to gurgle up blood before taking two steps back and falling dead. The other elf saw it coming and was able to not only deflect it, but take several steps back. Now safely out of Grigor’s reach, the elf increased his chanting, his flesh starting to glow a piercing white. Grigor finally yanked the dagger free, and now seeing the glowing man, he opted to throw his dagger. In the same instance, Therok began to cast a barrier in front of his friend. Before the dagger could reach the elf, or Therok could finish casting his spell, the elf finished his chant. In the next moment everything was filled with a blinding white light as the elf exploded taking the church and all in it.
