Tenth of Harbinger

There was silence as the assembled mages absorbed the words of both Sashai and Brimur. The elf wasn’t surprised. They were all aware of the world beyond the physical. Each of them dealt with the Arcane and their interventions in various ways. Lasiri did so in the most blatant manner. The Watchers were just that; an Order designed to track Arcane activity and end it when it violated appropriate bounds. The physical and the higher planes had a complicated relationship, one that had never been fully understood by Brimur or most of those present. The semi-divine beings acted in this world, of course, influencing events to their own advantage and building the numbers of their worshippers. The line between that and violation was blurry. For Ashelath, the rule had been simple; the banished Arcane was to have no activity outside very strict boundaries. His arrogance had pushed him to violate those bounds, and now he was dead. No one had even known that the Arcane could die until now.

The mages often served as the Arcane’s instruments in a chaotic world. The reason for the Orders was to ensure that such power wasn’t abused by either party in such arrangements. For one of their own to be sent by Ashelath to give him access to Narandir, a source of power shut off from the Arcane, was an utter betrayal of their oaths. By rights, Belkai should have been exiled at best – elimination was far more likely. Only the fact that she had killed Ashelath by her own hands could possibly ensure her continuing survival.

“She is cursed by the Arcane.” The quiet voice belonged to a representative of the Correlate, a loose affiliation of sorcerers and witches from the southern tribes. His name was Grishwar, and his weathered and scarred face testified to his hard life. “Doubly cursed, in fact. To lead Ashelath to Narandir is damnable. And then to violate the Arcane, to do what no other has ever dared to do...it is unthinkable.”

Brimur didn’t speak, knowing that Grishwar had more to say. The southerner didn’t wait long.

“This ultimately has little to do with Belkai herself. If it did, Ashelath’s guardians would have been punished and the matter settled with Belkai being limited to the Forest.”

“Ashelath’s guardians were Yulen, Belamin, and Falkar.” Sashai looked around the room as she spoke. “Of them, only Falkar remains. The Sons of Retribution killed the other two.”

“I suspected as much,” Grishwar said, nodding. “The signs have been in the stars. It makes sense. Most of you consider Delorax to be a spirit of justice. In the south we remember the older stories. What Delorax seeks above all is power. With Ashelath’s death, he sees an opportunity to take Narandir via subterfuge and war. He thought Falkar’s minions would be enough. More will now come.”

“What is it you want us to swear, Brimur?” Lasiri asked. “Fealty to Narandir’s lord?”

“Not entirely,” Brimur assured her. “But Grishwar is right. Delorax is going to bring total war to Narandir. Belkai needs allies. She needs the mages. All of us.”

“You may agree with my words, Brimur, but perhaps not my motivations,” Grishwar told him. “We southerners have an older understanding of Delorax, and that makes us cautious. We hesitate to stand against him.”

“Even when he threatens one of your own?” Brimur smiled at Grishwar’s confusion. “Belkai was born amongst your tribes. Her parents could not conceive until Elkur intervened. For his graciousness, Belkai’s family was exiled.”

Grishwar looked at him for several long seconds. “You speak the truth?”

Brimur nodded.

“I once knew those parents. That child was marked by the gods. It is said that such a child will always carry death with him.” Grishwar looked down, his face troubled. “If Belkai is the Exiled One, then she has the capability to destroy us all. Or save us. Delorax will push her to the former.”

He looked up, new resolve in his eyes. “It was our sin to reject Elkur’s chosen. We will stand with Belkai. The Correlate pledges its fealty.”

“The Watchers will deploy hunters to Svaleta and Narandir,” Lasiri announced, but her eyes were locked on Brimur. “Should any of this story prove false, they will be withdrawn.”

The sentiment was echoed by the representatives of the Herders, wielders of nature magic, mostly made up of Aliri elves. Sashai announced that the Temple’s neutrality was ending as they supported Belkai in her lordship. The Wexton spellcasters traded nervous glances. Their leader, an older man in a grey cape, cleared his throat and declared,

“Wexburg has played no part in events thus far. We will protect our borders against hostile incursion, but we bear no responsibility towards Belkai or Narandir.”

“That is a mistake,” Brimur warned. The spellcaster swallowed nervously before he replied,

“We serve the Arcane Lumina. She has not made her will clear.”

“By the time she picks a side, it may be too late,” Sashai told him. She noted that by now they were willing to accept her words despite her age. Siara had been right after all. “War is coming. Wexburg will not be spared.”

The spellcaster didn’t budge. “We await Lumina’s word.”

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Brimur shot him a poisonous glare, then took a deep breath and announced,

“Then by a majority vote, the Council of Mages will stand by Belkai of Narandir.”

All eyes were fixed on the delegates as they debated, oblivious to the subordinates who stood around the walls, a mix of different Orders who awaited their masters’ bidding. As Brimur made his announcement, one young mage stiffened subtly. No one saw his lips move in a silent incantation, setting in motion Delorax’s contingency plan. The result had never been predetermined. Now that Belkai had her support, it was time to cut it off at the head.

Brimur frowned as he felt a new presence that he didn’t recognise. A quick glance told him that the other Brilhardem had detected it, though the other mages seemed oblivious at first. Lasiri was the first to notice Brimur’s caution, and a red light flickered around her fingers as she looked around the room to find the threat. Her two fellow Watchers stepped forward from the wall, alerted by their leader’s preparation.

“Something’s coming,” Brimur finally said quietly. The other Brilhardem had retrieved their swords but Brimur was unarmed, at least physically. The Brilhardem, or Children of the Wind, were trained to use their minds to reach out and control living matter. They could comfort, understand, and kill, all using their senses. There was a price to such power, but they didn’t advertise that fact.

Lasiri’s Watchers stood on either side of the entrance, flaming red swords appearing in their hands. Lasiri summoned a fiery whip and an evil-looking curved dagger, planting her legs firmly to strike at whatever was planning on intervening. She had seen the runes in the tunnels and had no doubt that Brimur’s defences would kill any intruders. If they come through the tunnels, she thought, and glanced up at the ceiling as a deep rumble sounded through the rock. Sashai’s guardian, Bursa, put out a hand and gently moved the girl against the wall, brandishing his sword as he looked around with wide eyes.

“Delorax…” Grishwar murmured. “He knew we were meeting.”

There was no chance to respond as the rock above them exploded downwards, hit by an overwhelming force. The leader of the Wexton spellcasters was killed instantly as a large chunk smashed through his skull, his body crashing down at Sashai’s feet. Before they could recover, the first attacker dropped down the hole torn through the rock. It had pitch black, leathery skin, four arms ending in muscled hands bearing sharpened talons. Its humanoid head snarled at the mages, small but razor-sharp teeth shining with saliva.

One of Brimur’s students leapt forward, his sword swinging as he dropped low to avoid the anticipated counterattack. What he hadn’t anticipated was the demon’s full power. Its hand erupted in flame as it swung, and though the talons missed the Brilhardem, the fire scorched his face. He barely had time to scream before the demon’s clawed foot slammed into his head and crushed his skull. It was the last thing that it did. Lasiri’s whip curled around an arm and knocked it off balance. As it fell backwards, her dagger sliced effortlessly through its neck, dropping the decapitated corpse at her feet. Yellow blood leaked onto the floor as the mages regrouped, eyes locked on the hole in the ceiling, waiting for the next strike.

Snarls and hisses echoed through the tunnels, mixed with the sounds of rushing wind and shattering rock. They were pushing through the tunnels as well, Brimur thought as he tracked more of the demons approaching from above. A flanking manoeuvre slowed by the traps that Harleigh had set in place. Brimur knew that the delay wouldn’t last long. Beasts this strong would just keep pushing through, sure that the mages hadn’t been desperate enough to risk sealing themselves inside the mines.

“Have you got a plan, Brimur?” Lasiri called out, eyeing the ceiling nervously. Flashes of flame in the darkness above testified to their attackers’ approach. Brimur glanced around at the other twenty mages. They could stand and fight – and likely die. Or they could push through the tunnels, taking the demons one by one as they fought through in single file. He silently cursed himself. The solitude that had been intended to secure them had turned into a trap. He was about to respond to Lasiri when a roar caught his attention just as several shapes fell through the ceiling hole.

Chaos erupted as the demons charged at the clustered mages. The elven Herders were hit the hardest, cut down before they could bring about an effective defence. The Wexton spellcasters had formed a triangle, a fierce shower of steel fragments erupting from the male’s staff while the women unleashed firebolts from their wands. The first demon to strike at them was torn open by the steel rain, its insides boiled by the firebolts. The second learned quickly, summoning its own fire to block their attacks, screeching as it launched itself forward to tear into their flesh.

Bursa cursed as one of the creatures advanced, pushing Sashai towards an adjoining room.

“Get down and don’t move,” he spat, swinging his sword to sever a hand that was reaching for him. He screamed as a talon pierced his leg, driving him to his knees in agony. Another swing of his sword sliced open the demon’s gut, but that was his end as a third set of talons pierced his skull. Sashai screamed at the bloodbath as she tripped over a food basket and scurried backwards on her hands and knees. The injured demon struggled towards her, hunger in its crimson eyes as yellow blood streamed from its wounds. Sashai screamed again as it reached out a hand to take hold of her, only to freeze in place. There were a series of cracks as every bone in its body seemed to shatter at once before it fell away to reveal Brimur standing behind it, arm outstretched and sweat on his face.

“Get up, child,” he said quietly, and Sashai took the offered hand. He looked around at the dozen surviving mages and waved Harleigh over. “We need to get out now. The tunnel is clear. It won’t last.”

He took Harleigh by the arm when he arrived and said, “Give me your dagger. The girl needs a weapon.”

The student nodded and handed the blade over. Brimur studied the weapon for a second before saying to Sashai,

“Close your eyes, child.”

She did so, but still whimpered at the sound of the blade carving through flesh.

“Did you think I wouldn’t know?” Brimur whispered. “Traitors always leave a mark.”

Sashai opened her eyes to see Harleigh sprawled across the dirt, blood leaking from a hole in his chest. She looked up at Brimur, who had tears in his eyes as he handed her the dagger.

“He alerted Delorax,” Brimur told her. “Gods know why. But he has paid for his betrayal.”

“We need an exit, Brimur!” Lasiri yelled. “There are more coming.”

“Through the tunnels!” the elf ordered. “Get out while they’re still clear.”

He turned back to Sashai and smiled sadly as he said, “It is best you come with me. The Brilhardem will keep you safe.”

Somehow, Sashai doubted that anywhere was safe. Not after this.