“Knowledge sometimes comes at a cost. I am almost always willing to pay that cost.” - Arch Mage Arinelle
Mistake after mistake! Utter incompetence! Arinelle watched in awe as the man holding the artifact tore the guards apart.
Master? What’s going on?
The guards here are completely inept. The disguised man you saw infiltrated their ranks with ease and is now killing the ones that are supposed to lock up the Councilwoman.
Do you need help? I can get there quickly!
No! Stay where you are! I cannot have anything else go wrong.
The second to last man was cut, straight through the armor as the sword slashed with imbued magic in a flash of light. The body fell to the ground in a soft clatter of metal. There was only one remaining.
Arinelle took careful aim, then released a strong, precise blast of fire. It pierced the woman’s chest, center of mass. She slumped over, lifeless, with eyes wide open.
“No!” The man whirled around, slicing the last guard’s neck and ending the skirmish. He rushed to the woman’s side while looking around for the source of the killing blow. Finding no one, he laid a hand upon her chest in an attempt to revive her.
Arinelle could sense the magic and deduced instantly that it would work. I have to stop him. He pointed the wand at the man, casting a simple Hold spell. He felt the familiar invisible string lash out, connecting him to his target. He suspected that it would not have worked if the man had been prepared for it.
He stepped forward toward the two, both frozen, one in death while the other was leashed by magic. A side effect of having to concentrate on the spell was that he had to drop his Invisibility. The woman's stare was devoid of any spark, but the man’s eyes were bright. The blue irises found his own, despite the spell upon the man. I do not think I can hold him for long.
“Councilwoman Silverwind must remain dead, I am afraid. You have surprised me with your abilities. It is a shame we were at odds in this venture.” Arinelle raised his wand again, starting an incantation for one of his most powerful spells. A burst of green energy sprung from the end of the instrument, enveloping the armored man in a flash of light. The invisible string he held on his target vanished upon the cast.
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The man leapt up, even as the magic began to rip him apart. He stabbed his sword straight for Arinelle’s chest.
A moment earlier, and it may have killed the mage, but he reacted instinctively with a magical step away, leaving behind a small cloud of mist momentarily. The man’s disguise was gone following Arinelle’s last spell. He believed he was seeing the real man for the first time. The sword was now shedding a pale purple light. An intriguing artifact. “Where did you find that sword?”
“A gift... from Kraelyn.” The man he came to know as Eringer panted, as he tried to subtly reach down to revive the corpse of the Councilwoman from a kneeling position. He was sweating profusely now, with droplets of blood seeping out between the plates of armor.
“Do not move another muscle! The woman shall remain in her current state.” Kraelyn? Not a deity known for having artifact weapons at all. “I do not believe that sword is what you think it is.”
Eringer remained still, on one knee with the sword held out in one hand pointed toward Arinelle. He seemed to be contemplating something.
Enough, I think. I shall pry the artifact from his corpse if anything remains. Since the last spell had a fraction of the impact he anticipated, he switched to one that would do the trick. As he started the incantation, Eringer sprung toward him with magically enhanced speed.
An aura activated from the artifact, its effects immediate and absolute. As it washed over Arinelle, he felt his connection to magic sever.
It was as if being drowned, a feeling he had not experienced from a magic he had only read about. He grasped out with his mind, reaching for the magic that was not there. It felt like he was drowning. Something I did not anticipate. Though he could physically hear, no sound reached him. He watched the man before him approach, helpless for the first time in millenia.
Eringer closed the distance in a moment, burying the blade straight through Arinelle’s chest. The pain was marginal to the suffocation of not having magic. He looked down as the man held the weapon firm, waiting the few moments it would take for him to die. The mark on the blade finally connected the dots he had been trying to decipher. “Brius…” he spit up blood as his body gave in to the mortal wound.
“What?” Eringer asked.
A scraping sound came from a short distance away, as if someone had come to a skidding stop. “NOOOO!” Syntera’s cry rang aloud while the world faded.
As he fell, he caught a glimpse of his protege, staring in his direction. Her mouth open in shock and arm reaching out, she froze while she took in the scene. For a brief moment before his death, he connected to the magic once again as the aura subsided. Run, Syntera…