CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE
*~~~**~~~*
Iris Everton
*~~~**~~~*
Septos, 927 PC
----------------------------------------
Master Rellin’s study was unrecognizable. Servants had transformed it from a historian’s pot of gold into an outlandish work of art some Serelly artist might bring into existence while on mind-altering pills. Masks used in infamous plays by prolific actors sat on nineteen pedestals around the room, the table was set with crisp ceramic plates and cutlery coated in Liar’s Gold, the servants were dressed in dark purple robes made of silk and sprinkled with flakes of white – the newest fad in White Hall. Even the burgundy rugs Iris had come to know and love had been replaced with bright yellow and maroon eyesores. The entire display was three drops shy of spectacular, leaving it gaudy and garish.
“Donovan, dear, you’re too much!” Lady Camdrie’s eyes sparkled with glee when she walked in. Iris noticed she wasn’t so taken aback that she didn’t offer her hand for Master Rellin to kiss though. “It’s like I never had to get on that filthy ship. Never had to leave my beloved White Hall to come see a peasant girl play with tubes of funny-colored water.” Now, Iris wasn’t terribly close to Lady Camdrie, that was a priority for Iris, but she was looking the bitch in the eyes as she spoke.
She gave Lady Camdrie a toothless smile and a nasally scoff before heading straight to Kathar. She’d thought about him all night after they’d spent the previous evening walking through the Hall of Histories until they’d each found a book of interest and sat down by the fireplace on the first floor. Peace and quiet for two hours straight. The only bits of back and forth were the smallest of remarks about meaningless things that came to mind or interesting facts in their respective reads. The scene reminded her of something Arren Walendar had once written in his chicken-scratch handwriting. The most honest conversations happen during times of silence. To hear them all you must do is listen to your company’s presence. What she’d heard in Kathar’s silence was pain. She’d catch him wiping at the corner of his eye or biting his bottom lip or staring out the window while his book lay open on his lap. The subtlety of his frown was twice as powerful as any display of emotion his mother loved to provide her audiences.
“I thought I had escaped White Hall,” Kathar said, looking around the room.
“Master Rellin loves to flatter but I’m afraid it would have been too difficult to take the dinner to the forest. Not that I didn’t try to convince him to do so. But alas, we settled on this.”
She led him to a seat at the dining table closest to her own at the end. She made sure to get close enough to him that he could smell the freshness of her newly purchased clothes and the thoughtful amount of perfume she’d sprinkled on her neck. Even went as far as to wash her hair with a careful dose of an alchemical that could be mistaken for a basket of roses.
“He’s not here to flatter me anyway. I have about as much say on what the family does with our wealth as the beggars on the streets.”
“The wisest of us often say the fewest words.”
“Who’s that?” he asked.
Master Styner was standing near Iris’s desk speaking with a woman who’s wardrobe consisted of wearing all black to match her braid and a chain wrapped all around her body. He’d called her Manaya multiple times while they waited for the Camdries to arrive but by the way she responded so obediently it wouldn’t have been surprising if it was some ancient command word used on slaves.
“Tripelthin Styner. He is the Master of Alchemy at a university in Tevron. He and Master Rellin are old friends.”
“Are all of your friends three times your age?” Kathar asked.
“Now that you mention, yes, yes they are. I suppose I should work on that.”
He took a sip of the Serelly wine Master Rellin had sent for weeks before. The finest in all the lands and that could not be debated. “We could all use more friends. The trouble for me is that my friends demand so much of my energy that I barely have enough to take on more.”
“I can understand that.”
General Camdrie was talking to his men, which was to say speaking to them like children in the corner of the room. “Your brother’s men respect him greatly,” she said, avoiding the uncomfortable truth about the tyrant.
“They fear him. You mustn’t though. Not if you wish to earn his respect this evening. Not to mention he’s an absolute doll beneath all those layers of masculinity. Actions speak much louder than words for Rhyne. I’ve never ever seen anyone make much ground with him with sweet talk and flattery. I, on the other hand.” He dusted away all the cobwebs that had covered her sex drive in recent months with his smile. But that’s not why she was there. She had one goal this evening; to pave the way into the future.
“I’ll remember that,” she said as the others sat down around the table.
In true Master Rellin fashion, he started his magnificent evening with a speech. “Melina, Kathar, General Camdrie.” He looked at each in coordination with their names. “Let me start by saying we cannot possibly extend enough gratitude to thank you for giving us a small portion of your time. Now, if it pleases thy ears to hear a poem written by the great Osmadius Holk, then I would love to be so obliged.” There was no objection from the table but the general looked about as engaged as a first year student listening to a lecture they cared nothing about. Master Rellin recited the poem from memory.
“Into lands only time knows,
the path of progression always goes.
No other trail be so barred,
that weaker minds leave so scarred.
But down this road, secrets are rooted,
let them be found by those well suited.”
Kathar was the first to clap, lightly but genuinely, as if he were to be too loud he might scare away the profundity that now hung over the table. “Brilliant. Truly brilliant.” The others joined him, Iris included.
“Thank you,” Master Rellin said, giving a playful bow. “The credit belongs with Osmadius though. Has there ever lived another mind that viewed words with such high esteem?”
“There hasn’t,” Kathar said, shaking his head. “And it’s a damn shame too.”
“Indeed it is. Indeed it is. But with that said, let me be the first to invite the Camdries to join those well suited on our journey into the future. Lanterns held high to shed light on what could be rather than believing what we’ve been told lies in the shadows.”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Mysterious words often hide bad intentions, Master Rellin.” General Camdrie was leaning back in his chair, listening more intently than Iris had given him credit for. “Could this be true of your strange invitation?”
Lady Camdrie had twisted toward her eldest son and wore a face full of pride. The shadow cast upon Kathar was dark enough to put a damper on Iris’ end of the table. The pretentious mother lifted her glass of wine to her lips and gazed at her son in admiration.
“Only staying in the spirit of the evening, general. I’d be glad to be as forthright as you require,” Master Rellin said.
“Then please do. And remember, this side of the table understands alchemy about as well as that side understands the swords my men and I are so familiar with.”
“Perhaps an explanation is in order,” Master Styner said. The fact that he was not in charge of this lovely get-together was written in his disheartened posture.
“I want to see it with my own eyes,” the general said.
“Sadly, we aren’t to a point in our work where we can do that,” Master Rellin said. There were hints of fear in his voice. A first since Iris had known him. “But I can assure you, Master Styner and I believe we have found a way to create a future that will provide commoners like ourselves an opportunity for equality.” Being left out of the statement bothered Iris but being called a commoner hit Lady Camdrie's ears like the buzz of a bee.
“Commoners! The Camdries are one of the wealthiest families in all of Thandlecor, Donovan. I will not sit here and listen to your insults.” She clearly did not understand that there was a far different distinction amongst the people of the empire than those who did and did not have wealth. Master Rellin tried to approach that fact delicately.
“Forgive me, Melina. We all know of your family’s success and wealth.” Iris could hardly believe Melina had anything to do with her family’s wealth. If she understood correctly, and she often did, the Camdries had made their money off the hard work of desperate men pushed into a life of murder and war. “All I meant to say was-”
The general interrupted. “Ignore her. We are commoners. To not understand that is simply ignorance.”
“Rhyne.”
“Quiet, mother. We’re not here to watch this man stumble over his words so as not to offend you. We are commoners. Wealthy ones. But commoners nonetheless. If we’re lucky, these academics will change that.” He looked at Master Rellin, leaving his mother’s glare to melt the side of his face. “Proceed.”
“As I was saying. Master Styner and I believe we have found the key to our people’s future. An equalizer.” Iris refrained from adding herself to the list of minds that had found that key, but did not miss the fact that it had been omitted again. “With alchemy we have unlocked doors previously believed to not even have a handle.”
“You’ll have to elaborate,” the general said.
“Ah, yes. I am struggling to put this into words that make sense, aren’t I. What I mean is, we have a way to combat the Purists.”
Tripelthin spoke again. “We are on the verge of creating a new form of magic.” I have created a new form of magic. She could feel her ego tugging at the corners of her lips.
“A new form of magic.” Kathar said. “If I’m not mistaken, The Book of The Creator clearly states that there is to be but one source of magic. And sadly, none of us possess it.
“Does it not take magic to create magic?” General Camdrie asked.
“It does,” Iris said. Everyone else at the table faded away as she and the general locked eyes.
“And am I to believe you obtained some sort of magic?” he asked.
She opened her mouth but Master Rellin spoke first. “Our means are not open for discussion. Only the ends they are to produce.”
Lady Camdrie placed her glass of wine on the table and dried one lip with the other, making an annoyed popping sound. “Only honesty or dishonesty can exist between partners, Donovan, never both. If you’re unwilling to explain how you’ve come across magic, how are we supposed to believe you have it? By word alone?”
“Aye, that’s exactly what he expects of us,” General Camdrie said.
“And you’ll simply extend that courtesy?” his mother said.
“If that’s what it takes to see what in the three hells we’ve come here for, then yes. For now. You wouldn’t expect him to ask how we came about our wealth, would you? Of course not, because sometimes how you get what you have can be inferred without need for anything more.” He gave Master Rellin a firm look that had a warning rooted within it. “So what is this equalizer and more importantly, how can it help me and my soldiers?”
Hearing General Camdrie call his men soldiers almost made her laugh. The entire empire knew The Hounds of Haldar were ruthless, greedy mercenaries. Soldiers fought other soldiers. All Rhyne and his mercenaries did was kill whoever they were told would bring the most money.
Master Rellin stumbled over his words trying to explain how lotus magic would work, how it would be able to strike down a Purist before he or she unleashed whatever ability they possessed. All of which was being taken with a grain of salt by the general.
“Might I,” she said to Master Rellin. He looked relieved to be relieved of his duties. She fixed her eyes on General Camdrie, ignoring his mother just as she’d ignored Iris every second of every day since she’d been here. “How does the saying go? Actions speak louder than words.” He nodded.
She reached into her pocket, curling her fingers around the orb inside. The one neither of her advisors knew anything of. There was a faint warmth emanating from within it, along with a recognizable sense of lively energy. Its glow preceded it as she pulled it from her pocket, holding it high for all to see. Magic was invisible, that much she’d learned, but when mixed with Apple Core it appeared dark orange like honey. Its gentle glow all but demanded a moment of mesmerization. “This should answer all your questions,” she said. “This is magic. Harvested straight from a dying Purist’s soul. Donated to science, you could say.”
The Camdries hung on her every word. Her advisors watched in stunned silence, bewildered by the fact that she’d move along in the process on her own. That’s how she wanted it now, her subjects moving at her pace, not analyzing every detail of every conversation until her hair turned gray. She reached into her other pocket and retrieved an injector. She removed a small cap at the end of the needle and held the device upright so her concoction wouldn’t spill out. “I intend to mix my own creation with that of The Creator, forming what I call, lotus magic.”
The upright needle slid through the Rubach orb effortlessly. She tipped the whole thing over and let her carefully crafted mixture of alchemicals seep into the magic. It was the furthest she’d ever gone in the process. Now, she too could only watch with amazement. What had been dark orange lightened to a lovely magenta, then bubbled before slowly turning into white powder. I’ve done it. She sat the orb down and reached for the knife by her plate, wiping it clean out of habit. She lifted the bowl-shaped dish to eye-level. “Lotus magic.”
No one was sure what to say, but everyone was positive they were witnessing history. That much was clear by their unblinking eyes.
Then Kathar clapped, followed by Master Rellin, then Master Styner. Lady Camdrie and the general were impressed but not so quick to praise her.
“Show me how it works,” the general said, insinuating she use the magic herself.
“Surely you’d like one of your men to try it. There is a very limited supply right now.” She gestured to the orb. “Imagine the advantage you’d have on your exploits.” She knew better than to put a substance into her body without experimenting on someone else first. It would be months, if not years, before she had enough information on the effects of the powder to put it in herself. And that was only if it wasn’t harmful.
The general thought for a moment, scratching his bearded cheeks. All it took was a simple flick of his finger and the Hound by the window approached the table. His scarred face and toothless snarl moved her backward.
“Just a small pinch should do.”
The Hound clawed at the dish, covering his dirty finger in white powder. His good eye focused on it intently, right in front of his face before licking his finger clean and staring at her.
Nothing. Please work. Please work. Please w-
The Hound coughed. Gagged. Scratched at his throat. Licked his lips. The table shook beneath his heavy grip, plates and cutlery clanging. She stepped away, smiling. Everything was exactly as she expected.
He took a long, deep breath in and looked at his hands. They trembled with power. Then, and this was unexpected, his fingernails slowly turned purple, then black, then back to purple. They glowed with equality. No, dominance.
“Try it,” she said. He stared at her with an understanding he didn’t expect. She nodded.
He thrust his hand toward the window. A blast of purple energy shot from his fingertips like a streak of lightning. The window shattered into a million little shards that rained down on the campus below. His eyes widened. Her cheeks rose, her heart pounded.
“How much money do you need?” General Camdrie asked.