“You’ve already seen what The Bloodless are capable of, I can feel their attacks already affecting the magic within.”

“The horse we saw in the forest.” Scarlet guessed.

She was always going to be that step quicker than me, and for the most part I didn’t mind.

“Attacking our very souls?” I repeated, trying to ask East a question even I didn’t know how to phrase.

“I shall provide some clarity. The Divine Construct, the very foundation of magic itself. As you may know, it lives within all of us, every plant and animal, behind every element or spell.

We both nodded in agreement as he continued, “Imagine the skeleton of the horse, the state of utter death it was left in. All the living or decaying matter was taken from its bones, hollowed even to the marrow.

This horse has not been the only victim, I’m afraid, even as we speak more are being subjected to this corruption.”

I felt a twinge in my mind as a memory resurfaced. Only moments ago I recounted my past events to East. The word he used, ‘corruption’ was the same word The Mother had used in the prophecy.

“The plight of the land will spread, and the corrupted shall feast…” I blinked as I realised the meaning of the words. “You mean to say that they’re taking more than just flesh and blood.”

“They are drawing from The Divine Construct itself.”

East continued to explain, “You two might have been taught that The Divine Construct is a tool for all of us to use. It does not discriminate, is does not waver. The amount of energy and single-minded focus you pour in, is equal to the amount of magic which streams out. It is the conduit, the bridge between the physical world and the essence which fuels all magic. This is only a half truth, a possibly ignorant understanding of what it really is.”

“What do you mean, what else could it be?” Scarlet asked.

“It’s alive! I feel it’s pain as The Bloodless drain it’s source.”

“What could be the source of The Divine Construct? It’s there for all creatures, to be used by all.” I said, unsure how to interpret his words.

“You’ve answered your own question, Mr. Reed. Our observable magic, the spells we wield only exist because of The Divine Construct. Likewise, it can only exist because of us, the lifeforms which act as conduits into the physical plane. Because of our collective belief, we lend it the only thing we can. Our belief feeds it’s existence and proves every moment that The Divine Construct is alive. It’s there beneath every spell and inside every scroll. It’s changing, growing, creating all the wondrous things we are so used to in our world.”

“It’s alive,” whispered Scarlet, her eyes looked to be shifting around, as if her minds still mulling his words over.

“Let me show you…” East rose from the table.

Scarlet and I exchanged looks, nodding in agreement to follow East towards the door. There was something about his words that rang utterly true in my mind, making me want to believe him. But if it was true, that would mean East was right about another thing.

The Bloodless, what ever these creatures were, they were hurting The Divine Construct. I couldn’t fathom what it must have felt like, or even imagine how it even felt alive. All I knew in my heart was that secretly, I did not want East to be telling the truth.

We followed East through the door. I was standing behind Scarlet so she was the first to react. We were standing at the top of a series of cascading staircases. There was water flowing down all of them, except the staircases began to twist as I looked further down. I watched as one of the staircases decidedly turned on its side, the water still flowing directly against the stairs. It was as if the centre of gravity for the water had turned as well, still pulling it down, but now into the direction of the wall. I saw another staircase, turned completely upside down but at this angle I could still see the flowing water sticking to the stones of stairs.

“When I first enchanted this room, I set one condition for both the stairs and the water. The water was to remain flowing and the stairs were to intermittently shift their relative direction. For the longest time there were the strangest little waterfall loops as the water continued to flow downwards.”

“Did you change the enchantment? How is the water flowing upwards?” I asked.

“I didn’t…” East smiled. “The water must have realised it was easier to stick to the staircases, even when the direction changed.”

East turned to walk away and I noticed that the door we’d entered through was gone. Instead, East had begun to walk towards a new door to our right.

This time, I stepped in front of Scarlet to see what was in store.

Through the opening there came the smell of flowers, the strong scent of mint mixed with lemon. Underneath was a hint of sweetness, the smell vaguely reminded me of apples. We stood in the middle of a large greenhouse, the stone walls clothed in moss.

All around of us were bushes of native myrtle, warm-coloured frangipanis, splotches of pink from what East called the long-leaf waxflower. In one corner of the greenhouse stood a tall mint bush, rich with purple leaves. Higher above loomed native gumtrees and with them came a choir of chirps. Here and there, birds were either fluttering about, or peacefully nested. The windows of this place were overgrown and looked to have been built with no glass or way to close them. Very near to us, in the exact centre of the structure were a dozen stone statues covered and entangled in vines. They were huddled hand in hand to form a circle.

“The birds like to keep them company.” East motioned towards statues. “They usually stand still when others are around. Might be a bit nervous to start.”

“Nervous? The statues?” Scarlet’s tone was obvious.

I was just as incredulous, but with patience I watched the stone figures. Each of them was carved with their own individual style, some wearing dresses or knee-length shirts, while a few wore working shirts or overalls that a farmer might wear.

“Was it hard to carve them into the circle, all of them connected?” Scarlet asked.

“Connected? No I didn’t connect them, I carved them individually and put them all to work here as gardeners. But you see, it rains so much here and they barely have to do anything.”

“So what do they do?” I approached them with caution.

“Talk of course! They’ve got no mouths or mind’s to form language, but I assure you they do talk.” East replied with too much enthusiasm.

“It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself.” Scarlet’s arms were now crossed.

“I never— You don’t believe me?” East thrust his hands to his eyes and curled them in.

I sighed, “How do they talk then?”

“Watch them, really pay attention.”

I glanced back to the statues but they seemed the same. There was the same amount of statues, all wearing the same clothing as a moment before. My eyes passed over their faces, each one caught in a specific emotion. Had they always been wearing those faces? The one looking towards us, possibly directly at East wore a deep frown, almost a scowl. Two to the right looked mischievous, as if sharing secrets. I walked around to see the face of the one closest to us since it had it’s back to us. There was a huge hearty smile, which looked like it was frozen in the middle of a bellowing laugh. I couldn’t be sure if they’d looked this way before.

“You carved them making faces?” Scarlet asked.

“Keep watching,” East beckoned.

I turned back to the others in the circle and found to my surprise more frowns. They looked to be angrier now.

“They looked to be sharing secrets before. Now they’re mad.” I stepped away from the circle.

“Oh yes, they love sharing secrets or funny jokes. I should have mentioned they don’t like when you get too close. They think you might overhear them.” East beckoned his hand at me. “We better be off before they decide to break the circle.”

Scarlet edged further behind East, “And what would happen to them then?”

“Then they might give me a slap on the wrist for bringing strangers into their home.”

I started making my way back to East and Scarlet, not taking my eyes off the statues. “What would a slap on the wrist mean for us strangers?”

“High probability they’d kill you.” East clapped his hands together. “Let’s be off now.” He gave us a forced smile.

As I turned to latch onto his outstretched hand, I heard the deep rumble of stone grinding against stone. I heard the sound closing in on us as East pulled us away. I felt a rush of air as the invisible doorway opened for the three of us to pour through.

“I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t bring us to another room of murderous statues.” I shook his hand off before I could gauge my surroundings.

“Hey! They’re gardening statues, they’ve only recently picked up the murderous intent. Probably still a hobby for them.”

“Why not just break the enchantment?” Scarlet asked with crossed arms.

“You’re missing the point. Would you kill your child just because they started growing into someone who liked to kill?”

“No, I guess not,” she replied.

“Probably give them a medal.” I added.

Scarlet gave me a glare almost as sharp as her dagger.

My lips rose in a faint smile, “So what are you saying, that the statues are like your children?”

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“All of my experimental enchantments are. They don’t follow my rules, they grow and change into what they will. Some learn to bend the rules, some grow outside of the rules, and some simply grow” He jogged in between the two of us towards a blank canvas.

The canvas sat atop a wooden frame, isolated in the bare room. The walls were painted a stark white and the whole space was spotless. Not a speck of dust could be seen, even on the canvas or frame.

“Where are we now?” Scarlet sounded tired of the ideal.

“This is what the place looked like when I started the enchantment, as a point of reference. As I said, some just simply grow.” He snapped his fingers.

One by one, the walls started to peel away. Canvas after canvas appeared, filled with paintings of every style imaginable. There were landscapes, those featuring subjects, and those with no forms whatsoever. The canvases were of all different sizes, ranging from as small as my palm to one which filled the entire left wall. It was a fluid depiction of a battle, the brush strokes messy to convey the movements of the men. However, as my eyes dissected the painting, the colours shifted. The men drew blood from each other and crimson, red paint began to spill out. In fact, all of the men were moving. Their armour gleamed in the sunlight, which obviously was coming from the west. This battle might go deep into the night, an endless night of bloodshed.

“It’s alive…” My mouth hung wide open.

“Mr. Reed, you’ve hit it right on the nail. They are alive. Each and every one has something to tell, or somewhere to reveal. Some disappear after some time, and some shift beyond their original scope.”

“Beyond their original scope, what do you mean?”

“This war for example, has never occurred before. This painting was once of a beautiful, if under-decorated, little town.”

“What is this enchantment? Are these places real?” Scarlet seemed to be on edge.

I could understand why, those statues had really been a bit macabre. But she seemed to be interrogating East as if he were some kind of spy.

“Ms. Letalis, I am not seeing into peoples lives through these paintings. I merely enchanted this place with deeper magic, magic from the ancient times.” East touched one of the paintings. “The enchantment is the paint, the canvases are all clear, only enchanted to look as if paint is being added and moved. It’s an old spell that really greys the lines between Enchantment and Illusion. You are wise to be so wary. Some mages have achieved truly powerful awareness through Enchantment.

Scarlet looked less tense, still keeping her distance from him and any of the paintings on the walls.

“Come on, I think I’ve had enough fun for today.”

East led the way through another one of his door onto a dangerously high ledge. I made the mistake of looking down to see we were perched very high above sea level, nearly at the top of a mountain. A deep network of trees interlocked below us, where I noticed entire swathes of the forest shifting in the air. These woods held dense leaves, completely obscuring the ground. Only the top of the canopy could be seen, as far as the horizon.

“The truth is that each School of Magic, is really just one perspective of a greater whole. For each practitioner it becomes a sort of lens that one must view the world through. Without it, the mage is lost in the ever-growing winds, not knowing where to step next.

“Mr. Reed, Ms. Letalis, as you can see I focus my time on Enchantment. In a different time I thought only of Divination, which has now become more of a safeguard to me than anything else. My brethren, the other Architects all focus on different Schools and see the world quite differently from me.

I see the world around me and I see all the empty vessels, waiting to be experimented on, or filed with possibility. I am akin to a scientist who perhaps doesn’t know when to stop. But I cannot claim to know how Enchantment is envisioned through each practitioner.” East beckoned to Scarlet with a hand to elaborate.

“I was taught to see every item I enchant as an extension of myself. There are ceremonies, and offerings to the deity that my family has served for generations. The objects become like additional limbs, to be cared for, tended to, and thought of.”

East only nodded, as if this answer did not surprise him.

“What of you, Mr. Reed, what of Conjuration? What do you see when you look at the world?” His arm now gestured at me.

“I see—” I racked my brain for the words.

“I see an empty canvas, or sometimes an orchestra waiting for a melody. When my mind clears, I see the colours coming to me. I see how I could mix the paints to find the tones I need. Most of the time there’s the feeling that the canvas is too small. The orchestra is missing instruments. But I still hear the music.”

“The Schools of Magic have been guiding us for as long as we remember, within our cultures and philosophy. But now, all of this is being taken. Let me show you.”

We came into a small, dark room. It was round and to our left was the beginning of a descending staircase. Ahead of us was a small, arched window which showed we were still high off the ground. Perhaps not as high as the top of a mountain but high for a stone-brick structure.

“Welcome to my spire, where I keep my specialised tools.”

East looked to be suppressing a smile, but no matter how hard he tried I could see the gleam coming back to his eye. I watched as his hands gently pulled at a large, thick sheet of purple velvet. It was covering something tall, and when it came to our feet a plume of dust rose up to fill my nose. The smell itself was that of the stone around us, but also something metallic.

Before us stood a grand mirror, set inside a golden frame. The mirror dominated the room and arched far above all of our heads. In the frame I noticed there was many semi-precious stones set and runes carved all around the border. The clear signs of Enchantment magic.

“Say hello to the Mirror…”

“Why would we say hello to the—” Scarlet’s words died in her mouth as she stared at the mirror.

I took a moment to size the object from top to bottom. It had grandeur and elegance, not really the style of either The Grove or the school. I could appreciate the dedication it must have taken to build such a thing but my father’s voice was too engrained in me.

“A mirror’s image fails to show the vanity of the soul…”

He often might repeat this after exiting the city’s public latrines, accompanied by his finger tapping the side of his nose. It might have been his own funny way of joking. Now however, I started to take it a bit more seriously.

If East needed all of this to see his reflection— his reflection…

My head turned back to Scarlet, then to East. “It doesn’t,”

“No, it doesn’t.” East repeated. “This mirror has a far greater purpose than reflecting what is in front of it.”

The both of us stood leaned into the mirror, seeing only a dull metallic sheen. Might I have seen this mirror in a run down castle, I could have imagined it was merely dull. So utterly dull that no reflection could be gleaned from it.

“Go on, touch it.”

Scarlet didn’t hesitate. She used her pointer finger to lightly tap on the surface of the mirror.

“specere procul,” East whispered at the same time.

A circular ripple bounded out from her touch to the edges where the frame frame met the metal. Then it all began to glow.

“The two of you must know what you are up against if you have any chance of succeeding. As I said, I have been expecting visitors and no-one will say The Architect of the East does not do his research beforehand!” His hands contorted into a mudra.

The glow of the mirror faded which left a pool of swirling smoke inside the frame. As the seconds passed, the image became clearer, the tendrils of smoke defined themselves into shapes and colours. Limbs began to be recognisable, the tall figure solidified in height which allowed the smoke to focus on the smaller details. Soon, it’s sunken, dry skin became apparent and revealed the creature for what it truely was. This of course being almost indistinguishable from a mummy. One distinctive difference being it’s eyes. They seemed to burn, hot with radiance. At first they reminded me of the summer sun, but as I continued to stare into them my throat began to close up, the feeling of deprivation closing in. In those eyes I began to imagine being lost in a desert, overheated or suffering exhaustion. Seeing nothing besides the heat of the sun torch dunes in every direction. Endless desert, endless fire, endless hell—

“Winter!” East shook me from my trance.

My mind shot back into my body, my senses returning. My feet were where they had been only a moment ago. Next to me was Scarlet, and behind stood East. As my eyes readjusted to the dim light once more, I saw we were still in front of the magic mirror. I took another glance at the creature looked away just as quickly. Then my feet betrayed me and I stumbled away from the two of them.

“I need a moment,” I muttered aloud.

“I thought one of you might. After seeing those eyes.”

East opened the window to let in a breath of fresh air but the sound that came was more reminiscent of a howl. Cool air poured forth and rattled the latch of window.

The Bloodless, as bright as it’s eyes burned, it seemed to cast the room into deeper shadows. East waved his hand and the scene in the mirror shifted once more.

What came into focus made my stomach turn. The mirror revealed a village. The bustling of horse-drawn carts and distant hammering of construction could be heard through the image. The sun was setting on the primitive dirt roads and several figures stopped momentarily at the wooden posts which lined the roads. As the sun crawled beyond the horizon the pathways remained illuminated by the warm fire of the torches. One of the figures turned to show its hideous face, the face of The Bloodless.

East looked almost ill. “Although conjuring fire has been forbidden since the end of Scythia, the dragons did not feel the need to commit genocide by taking away the uses of common fire. It warms us at night, and cooks the food we eat. It lights our roads to allow travel, or helps us manipulate metals for building. Even our weapons still are forged by common fire. These gifts are the cornerstones of human civilisation. Slowly but surely, they will grow cold to us.”

“They’ve stolen it all.” I whispered.

“Soon our young will starve, the men will fight and murder each other over the meekest of meals. The fire of humanity has been taken, and if it is not returned by the winter…”

East did not need to continue. The wisest knew not to tempt fate, to not say too much lest it become the reality.

The words of The Thousand-Eyed Dragon were coming back to me, everything she said was coming to pass. Except there was one question I needed answered.

“The Mother asked my father to avenge Her. Why would She not decimate them Herself if there was a wrong committed?”

“Some places are not safe, even for The Mother. She is wise to never fly furtherer north with The Thunder. The Bloodless seem to know this, and are taking advantage of this knowledge. Only rogue hordes of them can be found in Ostravos, and these The Thunder hunt with fervour. Do not discount how many obstacles She will have saved you from in the larger scheme.”

“But you still haven’t answered the question,” I prodded. “Why do we need avenge Her?” I feared I would not like the answer.

“A mighty dragon has been slain. The guardian Erolos. It is said the first breath of The Mother formed him. The fire swam from her mouth and from it burned Erolos, red as the purest ruby. Even I cannot see what or who has slain him, but this was how The Bloodless were able to steal The Eternal Flame.”

I heard the words East was speaking, but part of my mind failed to register this. Distant memories flooded my thoughts as I recalled my father reading to me as a little child. ‘The Emporium of Dragons’. I’d always loved when he’d tell me about dragons, and as a child I’d always hoped one day I’d be able to ride one. In my mind I saw the detailed illustration of Erolos, The Red Dragon.

I felt a hot sensation fester in my chest. The fear melted away and turned to something else. Whoever had done this would pay. Whether it was The Bloodless or somebody helping them, I’d make sure they’d pay for this.

My fingers clenched into fists, my nails digging into my palms. I tried to regain control of my breathing but when I looked at East I knew he saw right through me.

“It’s the very fact you care so much for them that makes you the most likely candidate of the prophecy.”

“How can we kill them? The Bloodless, they must have a weakness.” Scarlet broke in.

“The only way I’ve heard is by depriving them of anything to feed on. They’re able to starve. But things might be different now. Now that they are fuelled by The Eternal Flame there might be other ways or no way at all. It is more important that you seek The Eternal Flame than kill every one of these creatures.”

“Who might know how?” I asked, my chest settled.

“I’ve heard rumours of a man who might keep private records of histories as old as the first records of The Bloodless. This does not guarantee he does contain the knowledge, only a chance. He lives in a castle to the north named Silence Manor. It is not known how long he has dwelled there, longer than humanly possible. We must discuss other things, mainly how I can help you, Winter, channel your magic more succinctly like Scarlet—”

The building shook to the left as if being battered by a gale of wind. East locked eyes with me, and I saw his concern. Something was terribly wrong. Another gale of wind hit the spire and sent Scarlet and I to the floor, along with many of the books in the shelves. East’s eyes darted around like a trapped animal.

“This place is under attack, we must hurry.” East grabbed our hands and pulled us towards the wall, followed by the familiar creak of a wooden door swinging open.