Michael
Michael carefully pulled back his dagger from Dawn’s throat and took a step back. The defeated wolf-kin inspected the shallow cut on her stomach seemingly not understanding why everyone else was so silent.
Michael turned around and looked into the confused faces of his men. Kiran was the first to react, he stepped forward and asked, “What the hells was that? It looked like your light blocked her attack.”
Michael smiled while he answered, “That is because it did. This is what I have been working on. I call it hard light; it is still a work-in-progress, but I think it has potential.”
“Potential,” the mage said in disbelief.
“Yeah, it requires a lot of concentration and precision to get right but with a lot more practice I should be able to use it properly,” Michael explained.
“This is not what I am talking about. What you just did there, I have never heard anyone do something like this. You managed something that not even Gradel Thule can do. You are amazing,” Kiran said, and excitement crept into the old mage’s voice.
Michael paused, somehow, he hadn’t thought about that what he invented might have been a first in the world. His men began to nudge each other and share some whispers until a few moments later they broke into cheers.
Michael turned back to Greywind, and the chief patted his daughter on the shoulder and exchanged a couple of words in their language before he addressed Michael. “You have proven yourself to be more than strong. We do not wish to fight and weaken each other. Come join me inside for a meal, there we can discuss the peace and trade agreement.” After that, he barked a few words, and his warriors began to disperse.
Kiran put his hand on Michael’s shoulder stopping him from immediately following the chieftain and said, “You have to tell me everything about this new hard light later, okay?”
“Of course, we have a lot of experimenting to do,” Michael answered with excitement burning in his eyes which was mirrored in the mage’s.
The discussion had to wait though; Michael had to get through another kind of conversation first.
He motioned the dwarven contract scribes, his retainers, and his guard to follow him and then entered the great hall behind Greywind.
The hall's interior was quite comfortable with pelts and multiple fires warming the room. A large boar was roasting over the biggest fire in the middle of the room spreading an inviting aroma.
“Please sit with me over here, Lord Rowan. Your men can warm themselves around the central fire,” he pointed at a smaller fire in a more secluded part of the hall. He wanted to discuss the treaty in private it seemed, and Michael had no problem with this.
Michael noticed that his men had become less tense by now, but Eydis and Sir Tomp still followed Michael with their eyes.
The chieftain and Michael sat down on a large fur on opposing sides of a low table. Chairs were seemingly not part of a wolf-kin’s home, but a couple of benches were situated around the central fire.
After sitting there in silence Michael took the initiative and began explaining his plans for the trade post and the road between Reen and the border of Garekha. Greywind listened patiently and attentively until he had explained everything.
“You said the trading post would be on the river on our side, but where exactly,” the grey wolf finally broke his silence.
“I would like to place it as far south as possible to reduce the need for cutting through the forest, but the river has to be deep enough to allow riverboats to traverse it.”
“I see. What law will apply in this trade post and who will judge?” Michael blinked at the wolf-kin surprised, it was a really good point.
“Let’s say that every nation sends in one judge, and we create a lawbook that applies to the trading post with basic laws for them to enforce. People will have to answer to the law of the place that they are currently in when they are not in the trading post. We should also provide a mixed guard.”
Greywind nodded, “It sounds reasonable.”
“Good. I would also suggest that you would be responsible for general safety on the road in your country which should be paid for by the taxes,” Michael said next.
They continued for a while talking through different things, about taxation, law enforcement, infrastructure construction, rights, and many more topics.
After they had talked through everything they could think of and even discussed the peace treaty, Michael asked, “I am interested. What was it that made abandoning your raids on the kingdom?”
Greywind stayed quiet and Michael thought that he looked sad even though he couldn’t read the facial expressions of the animal-kin very well.
He then sighed and said, “It was my son, Titan. He felt like I was a weak leader and tried to usurp my position. He was a dumb boy, strong as a bear but as bright as a rock. Many died in that fight and with the Boar Clan always trying to expand their borders we couldn’t leave our home undefended or be stuck between the boars and the kingdom.”
“I see. My condolences but with this treaty, you will be able to focus on rebuilding,” Michael said and smiled.
“It doesn’t matter anymore but I am thankful that my people can have some peace at last,” he sighed, and then the weak and sad old wolf disappeared, and the confident leader of the tribe returned.
“Now that we have an agreement, we will have to consult the guardians,” Greywind said and looked solemn.
“The guardians?”
- A couple of hours later –
Michael’s gaze swung from left to right as he followed Moloch who led him into a grove with twelve tall wolf statues positioned in a large ring.
The sun had not gone down yet but no sunlight managed to enter this grove. It was illuminated dimly by swarms of fireflies that circled around the wolf stones.
The ground between the statues was laid out with loose stone slaps and in the middle stood a large stone altar that dwarfed the black wolf-kin that stood behind it. It was the same one that had spoken right before the duel and Michael noticed another wolf with nearly white fur which was being supported by the darker one.
She had the skull of what Michael guessed had once been a dire wolf on her head and supported herself with a staff made out of black wood and blackened bones in addition to the black wolf. They were shamans, Michael had been told by Sir Tomp and Kiran, the mages of the animal kin who doubled as the religious figures of the clan.
The grove was filled with the members of the wolf clan, but it was eerily silent. Michael stepped toward the altar, but his men stayed where they were, all tense and suspicious of what was about to happen.
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Michael came to a halt next to Greywind in front of the altar when the white wolf-kin began to speak with a scratchy voice. Michael could hear the years that had passed for her as she intoned some kind of chanting.
Michael wanted to ask what was happening, but his eyes were fixed on the old shaman, he could feel a massive amount of mana spreading from her. Then he noticed that it wasn’t just coming from her but from all the twelve statues around them.
Slowly the eyes of the wolf statues began to glow as more and more mana filled the space in between. The audience began to hum in a low base tone and the air vibrated.
The shaman talked quicker, her voice rising to ever greater heights. The mana moved in a swirling motion. For normal people, it would be like a slow draft, but Michael saw the mana. It was like a whirlwind that was beginning to pick up in pace.
Then another maelstrom appeared and another until one had formed around each of the statues. Michael watched as they pulled in more and more mana until it condensed, and a shape appeared.
The humming and chanting came to a crescendo when a huge dark purple wolf emerged from each of the statues. They were ethereal and their eyes were glowing in the same light. They landed on the free ground of the ritual circle and began circling the altar.
Michael could see the panic in the eyes of his men but to their credit, no one tried to flee or intervene, either through fear or discipline.
“Great guardians,” Greywind spoke loudly and ignored Michael’s widened eyes. “We come to you in this time of hardship to hear your council.”
A voice, that sounded like all twelve of them talking in unison, echoed from all sites, “Speak!” Their voice went through Michael’s core, and he trembled.
“This is Michael Rowan of the Telios Kingdom,” Greywind said and was instantly interrupted by a flurry of voices.
“Prey.” “Enemy.” “Hunter.” “Murderer.”
The wolves began to fletch their teeth at him and circle in closer. Michael couldn’t shake the dread in his chest as the wolves approached him, but he was not as weak-willed anymore. He stepped forward pulled out his sword and rammed it in between two stone slaps.
“I am not here to fight, honorable guardians. I am here to make peace with your people.”
The wolves hesitated for a moment and then continued to circle less threateningly.
“Continue,” the booming chorus of voices said.
It was obvious that the guardians were talking to Michael now, so he answered. “We have fought long enough, spilled enough of each other’s blood. I have proposed a peace treaty to the wolf clan and a trade agreement to strengthen the bond between our people so that we can live peacefully as neighbors. Chieftain Greywind has tested my strength and found me worthy. He wants to gain your blessing, great guardians.”
“Your strength of body has been tested,” the guardians said, “Your strength of spirit is yet to be determined.”
Michael frowned, he didn’t know what the guardians expected from him but before he could ask for an explanation, the largest of the spirit wolves broke formation and walked right in front of him.
“Your spirit will be tested and if you prove to be strong in both body and soul you may leave this grove again,” the large guardian said, this time alone.
“What does that mean,” Michael said unsure if he was just threatened but the wolf didn’t give him an answer before phasing his ethereal snout into Michael’s chest. He wanted to back away but the moment it touched him he was paralyzed. His consciousness blanked for a moment and when he opened his eyes again, he was in a strange room filled with books and tables.
This library was bigger than anything he had ever seen, it had multiple levels filled to the brim with books, and there must have been tens if not hundreds of thousands of books here.
Even the seating area was bigger than any single room in Reen Castle and it was completely empty except for a single old man who sat at one of the tables. He was leaning back in his chair and seemed completely captured by the thin book he was reading.
He was old, his hair white, a well-maintained short beard decorated his face, and his skin wrinkled but he was also looking dignified and astute, he reminded Michael of Solon.
Michael approached him slowly and took in more details. His clothing was unlike anything Michael had ever seen, the fabric looked thin but robust at the same time, the angles were clean, and he had never seen such precise seams.
What interested him more though was the contraption of glass which the strange man had resting on his nose. It was similar to the one he had seen with the dwarven contract scribe, but he had forgotten to ask what it was back then. Maybe it was a magical item or something like that.
“Hello,” Michael asked carefully but kept at a safe distance from the man. He didn’t know who he was but to transport him to another place without any difficulty meant that he was probably a powerful mage.
The old man looked up at Michael and he took off the glass contraption. “Oh, hello there.”
“Who are you,” Michael asked and tried to strengthen his body in anticipation of a fight, but he couldn't feel his mana.
“I am just an old man savoring some light literature,” he answered and put the book on the table in front of him.
“Why have you brought me here?”
The man tilted his head to the side before answering, “I have done nothing of that sort. You came here of your own volition.”
The voice was familiar to him, but his mind was refusing to tell him from where he knew it from even though he was sure that he did. Michael frowned and looked around again, but he had never been here before.
“And where exactly is here?”
“Isn't it obvious? This is a library,” the man answered with a smile.
Michael sighed and thought, extremely helpful.
He sensed no hostility from him, so he pulled back a chair in front of the old man and sat down.
“I am Count Michael Rowan, Lord of Reen and Emall and Vassal of the King of Telios.”
“I know who you are, Michael. My name is Thomas.”
“Thomas, right. Do you also know why I am here,” Michael asked.
Thomas closed his eyes for a moment and then said, “It seems like something attacked your soul and to protect yourself you have pulled back into the deepest parts of your mind.”
“This is the deepest part of my mind,” Michael asked confused.
“It is barely part of it, so yes, it is.”
The deepest part? Barely part of my mind? This voice?
“I know who you are,” Michael suddenly burst out and Thomas simply smiled.
The library began to shake, and mist came through the windows and doors.
“What is happening,” Michael shouted and jumped up from his chair.
“It seems like you are being ejected from here. The attack has ended, and you can't be here,” Thomas explained while looking around with interest.
“No, wait. I have so many questions,” Michael pleaded as the mist began to envelop him.
“Those will have to wait, my boy. Remember this, Michael, stay on your path and trust yourself,” the old man said with urgency in his voice.
Thomas gave him a last smile before the mist covered him completely.
Michael’s eyes opened again and was back in the moment the spirit wolf had touched him. In that moment Michael’s chest seemed to split apart for just a moment and a light erupted from it. Brighter than anything Michael had ever seen or produced but it didn’t blind him. The spirit wolf howled and got catapulted back, shutting the light off when he got split from Michael. It crashed against one of the statues and broke apart.
Everyone stared in silence as the remains of the spirit wolf began to circle the statue and then vanished.
“What did you do,” Greywind whispered and looked at Michael in shock.
“He destroyed one of our guardians,” someone else shouted and other roars joined in. The wolf-kin began to grab their weapons, the humans and dwarves doing the same when the chorus of voices returned.
“Your spirit is strong, young warrior. We judge you to be worthy of standing equally with our people.” They then turned to Greywind. “We agree with your judgment, chieftain, and give this oath our blessing.”
Greywind nodded as everyone began to relax again. The chieftain took out a knife, cut the palm of his hand, and then handed it to Michael.
“I vow to keep to the agreement we have made today not only in word but also in spirit.”
Michael did the same and took the wolf’s hand, his palm would probably be healed well enough until he was back in Reen thanks to his mana-infused regeneration.
He repeated the same words the wolf clan chief had said, the eleven remaining spirit wolves gathered around them and intoned, “And we are witness to this agreement. May it stand for the years to come and may a strong bond result out of it.”
Michael nodded at Greywind, who returned the gesture.
The spirit wolves turned around shortly after and sprinted against their respective statues where they vanished in an explosion of mana.
The wolf kin were quietly conversing with each other as Michael returned to Kiran.
“What were those wolves,” he asked.
“That was death magic. More specifically the spirit magic school. These statues appear to be artifacts that can hold massive amounts of mana. Astonishing,” Kiran answered absentmindedly. He was much more focused on the statues than on Michael.
“And what did that wolf do to me?”
“He drew out your soul to test its strength, I presume. I have heard that life and death mages can interact with one’s soul, but this was the first time that I saw it. Yours seems to be quite potent to dispel a spirit of that strength on merely a touch.” The mage didn’t sound surprised and that caught Michael’s attention.
“You expected it to be strong?”
He finally turned to him and inspected him with his piercing eyes. “The size of the mana well one possesses gives a vague estimation of one’s soul. Mana and souls are tightly connected and with your mana well I would have been surprised if your soul wasn’t similarly mighty.
Michael nodded but he had to think about the strange place he had visited. It had been a couple of minutes inside but not even a second out here. Thomas confused him even more; he was sure that that man was the old voice he had heard so many times and who had pulled him out of his depression. Michael just couldn’t explain who or what he was.
An illusion? A demon? Maybe the soul of his former self?
His guesses got evermore wild, but he resolved himself to uncover the secret of Thomas, the old man in the library.