Unwelcome gazes watched him as Ash followed Inquisitor Victor through the winding hallways of the High Tower. This was the first time he had stepped foot on the fourth floor of the tower, and it was immediately clear that he was not welcome here.

A small, yet clearly capable group of guards followed him and the Inquisitor, though they did allow them a respectable distance.

“Usually students aren’t allowed to come up here,” Inquisitor Victor spoke up, noticing Ash’s discomfort. “Mages of the fifth rank and above have their residences here, so they always have a place to return to in Bhaile-Morn. Some live here permanently, either in seclusion as they meditate, or as they work for the Tower itself, or for respectable establishments in the city.” His lips curled up with a faint smile.

“I hear the Fang auction house has also hired several high ranking mages to further their security after what happened during their last auction.”

His words came as a surprise. “Their last auction?” He asked. “You mean when the Apostle attacked?”

The Inquisitor nodded. “Quite a while ago indeed.” He took a sharp turn left, towards a wide, lavishly decorated hallway that led to a gold inlaid double door. “It takes a long time to cleanse a place from the effects of soul magic.” A smile flashed across his lips. “I suppose they only recently finished with that.”

They stopped before the large set of double doors made of a dark coloured wood. The gold inlaid carvings on it depicted a woman praying on a dune, facing the Spire of Kindling.

Ash narrowed his eyes. The Spire depicted here wasn’t really accurate, he had seen the real thing in his dreams, it had a much thicker base, and its architecture was so much more complex than this.

Inquisitor Victor pushed the doors open, then shot a glance over his shoulder to the small group of guards following them. He closed his fist momentarily, then looked forward again, leading Ash into the large chamber the doors opened up to. The guards remained outside as the doors closed behind them.

The chamber was round, and quite spacious. On the opposite wall to the door full-height windows let in the Light of the Spire. The chamber was lavishly decorated, with bookshelves lining the walls and a set of white, comfortable looking seats placed around an ebony table.

A woman wearing a long, white dress was sitting by her desk, placed right in front of the windows. The Spire’s light shone on her platinum hair. She raised her head upon hearing the door open, then started on her feet as soon as she saw them enter.

“Victor?!” She exclaimed with a beaming smile, but that same smile shattered as soon as she saw Ash. Her delicate eyebrows scowled as her lips formed a thin line. “Something is wrong.” She stated.

Victor shook his head. “He’s wounded, badly.” He pushed Ash towards the seats. “I did what I could, but your mana is much more suitable to heal. Please do what you can but be careful. Ash, don’t try and use your own mana. And don’t leave this room unless I send word, alright?”

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

He looked at the woman again. “I must speak with the Oracle urgently.”

“Go.” The woman nodded. “She is at the lotus pool.”

Her hands were gentle as she slowly undid the wraps on his arms and chest. She reached for the glove on his right hand, but Ash was quick to pull it back. “It’s an old scar.” He explained, “From my childhood.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I see.” She muttered as she removed the last of the wraps. Her lips formed a thin line as she let out a sigh. “I was hoping he just exaggerated.” She whispered as her extremely pale crimson mana slowly gathered in her hands.

Ash winced as cool air touched his wounds.

“Were you in a fight or something?” She asked as her mana weaved into complex shapes. She let it brush against his skin gently. “These look like cuts from a blade.”

Ash shrugged. “I don’t know, I don’t remember how any of these happened.” As soon as the words left his mouth, the woman’s head jerked up.

“What?” She asked, narrowing her eyes. Her mana continued to slowly heal the wounds. “You have memory loss?”

Ash shrugged again. “I think so.” He muttered as confusion set in. Ever since what happened in the burial grounds, his instincts screamed at him to be quiet about what he was going through. And he followed them because he felt so strongly. Now, however, there was nothing telling him to be quiet. He felt normal as he told her he didn’t remember.

“How many gaps do you have in your memory?” She asked as the burnt skin on his chest began to heal and return to normal. Her mana was warm to the touch, and he barely felt any pain as she ever so slowly healed him.

“I’m not sure.” He scowled. “I don’t quite remember how we got to the Tower, for example…” His hand reached for the pendant he had thrown over his shoulder. He caressed the silver chain, wondering when he had done that. He didn’t remember making that decision either.

“I see.” The woman scowled. “What about when you first met the Oracle? Do you have any gaps in your memory of that?”

Ash shook his head. “No, I remember meeting her, and you.” He paused. “I don’t think I know your name, though.”

“Alarien.” She replied, clearly lost in thought. Since when you have been experiencing these memory losses?”

The Lotus Pool was as brightly illuminated by the flowers floating on the water’s surface as ever. The Oracle sat at the very edge of the pool, her hand resting on the surface of the water. Her eyes were closed, and her mana slowly swirled around her.

Victor couldn’t help but wonder how differently Ash would see her mana. Was she casting a spell Victor couldn’t sense? Or was it just the natural state of her mana?

“Esteemed Oracle.” He spoke up with a respectful, yet firm voice.

A moment passed in silence before she opened her eyes to look at him. “Inquisitor,” She nodded once, then scowled. “Something happened.”

Of course she was aware, but he hoped she would say something more. That she would know what exactly the Apostle had done in those burial grounds. “Yes. A great evil was unleashed using a spell to bring a soul back from beyond the grave. The ritual succeeded, those who conducted it are dead – presumably killed by the power they unleashed. And all but two of their sacrifices also died. Young men and women, future mages.”

Blood drained from the Oracle’s face. “Where are they?”

“One is here, with Alarien. You’ve met him before – the Twilit boy.”

“Ash Morgan.” She stated. “I never forget a name. The other one?”

“A girl named Theresa, last name unknown. I sent her to the Northern Gate. Her mind is broken – she was in no state to brave the Howling Valley.” He let out a sigh. “I need you to seek the evil unleashed. There was a single sarcophagus, and it was empty. The creature is out there somewhere. It must be found and killed before it corrupts our lands with Soul Magic.”