Nodding his acknowledgement to them, Maels took a moment to inspect the enchantments that he’d laid on the wagon prior to setting off from Karolen. Thanks to the unique concealment and muffling spells that he had cast, only those sworn to him would be able to hear any sounds from the inside, while just he and Deena were permitted to probe behind the tarp with their magical awareness.
It’s truly a pity, he thought sadly as he returned to his side of the carriage under the watchful eyes of Arienne. His plan in regards to the lord of Distan was a very delicate one that involved spells that he had learned from both the grimoire of the infamous necromancer of legend, Neiro, and the notebook that had been hidden along with it. These spells required an immense amount of magical energies, but there was a stipulation that this energy—at least in the case of the ritual left behind by Neiro—had to come from virgin youths. It was essential that these young ones had already come into their energies and that they possessed tremendous amounts of latent power.
He recalled how the young Ket’s limiter had flared up moments ago, nodding to himself in silence. Of all the Inverted peoples, their race had long been renowned as the most magically gifted of the lot. If not for their decision to switch sides during the great war from centuries past, it was very likely that the Mais of today would be much different from the one that he knew.
Maels aspired to create a better, fairer world. In order to realize his goals, it was necessary that he rise to the top of the church so that he could root out the malcontents and restore the integrity of those that had been graced with the responsibility of representing the Lucian Faith. He had learned long ago that to embark down such a path would, at times, require him to resort to drastic and immoral measures, a terrible reality that he feared he would never grow used to. Still, he was one of the few that could see the greater picture of this world and one of the even fewer that considered the view through an ethical lens.
Maels realized that his hands were shaking within his drooping sleeves, but caught himself before there were any outward changes to his disposition. If I must act as an agent of evil in order to vanquish such wrongdoings from this world once and for all, then as usual I must be steadfast.
Standing outside of the carriage as he awaited the return of the arcanite that he’d tasked with investigating the situation up ahead, he was pleased to see that the front of the procession had begun to move once more. Since it would take a while for any movement to resume where he was located at the centre of the long line of horses, wagons, carriages and people, Maels decided to run through the contents of his plan for the thousandth time as he awaited his subordinate’s return.
Once they drew closer to the county, he would lead a small group of people deep into the surrounding forests under the pretense of sensing an evil aura. There they would conduct the ritual that had been recorded in Neiro’s grimoire, while simultaneously setting the stage to go through with the spell that had been left behind by the unknown author of the secondary notebook. He had since confirmed that the latter had been an arch magus at the very least, a fact that had become apparent after he’d come across several strange images within the well-ordered notes that, when injected with inner energy, produced real life versions of the items that they depicted. One such treasure was currently resting within the same inner pocket of his that housed his exquisite-class crystal, a strange medallion that contained an incredible secret.
The crystal that I inherited from Father should be enough to summon the demon, but I still need to find a vessel for Neiro’s spell. If worst came to worst, he would simply sacrifice one of his subordinates, particularly one of those that had sworn themselves to celibacy in the name of Lord Lucian. Maels wasn’t sure if this would enhance the potency of the spell or impede it, but Neiro’s notes had revealed that he’d preferred to use virgin youths as the sacrifices for his rituals and so Maels felt that in order to err on the side of caution it would be best for him to find one such sacrifice.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
One of the locals would be ideal, he thought calculatingly. Then even if the invisibility spell that I cast on their corpse suddenly disappears, they won’t look too suspicious on their way to the target area. Unfortunately, the young boy that they’d abducted from the previous city had died of dysentery while on the road, so he was in desperate need of a satisfactory solution.
Just then, he noticed a familiar face up ahead and turned to greet the man that had rushed off earlier on.
“Your Grace,” he said, bowing his head in respect.
“So, what was the cause for the holdup?”
“A boy was found up ahead.”
“Found? Is he okay?”
The man frowned, a bit of confusion on his bearded face. “It doesn’t seem like it. I was told that his nose was broken, and that he seemed to have suffered from some sort of magical backlash.”
He’s come into his energies, then.
Keeping all emotion from his voice, Maels said, “Is he a local?”
“I suspect so. We’re quite close to the county limits, after all.”
Looking up at the looming mountains that filled the surrounding skies, Maels wondered why the unknown youth had wandered so far out into the wilderness by himself. After thinking on it for a moment, it became clear that this was a sign of support from Lucian, a strategic gift at a crucial juncture in his current endeavours.
Maels drew an oval over his chest and said a quick prayer of thanks. Seeing that the arcanite was awaiting his response, he asked, “How old is the boy? Does he have any discerning traits that might tell of his background?”
If he was young enough, then the chances of his chastity were quite high.
“I’d guess sixteen, perhaps seventeen. As for his background, his clothes are of simple make, but they’re also high quality. He’s got a swordsman’s build and a fair amount of silver on his hands, so I doubt he’s a commoner.” Looking thoughtful, he added, “Perhaps he’s a member of one of the lower houses, squired to a local knight?”
“That could be it. Is he conscious?”
The man shook his head.
“Go and fetch the lad, but be sure to cover his head so that nobody on your way back will see his face. Bring him to my carriage.”
Taken slightly aback, the man hurriedly agreed before he ran off in the direction he’d just come from.
It’s all coming together, thought Maels as he ducked his head and climbed back into the carriage.
“I take it everything’s been resolved, Your Grace?”
Settling down beside Gartur, he directed a light nod at the elderly man. “They found an injured boy up ahead. He’s being brought here as we speak.”
“To our carriage? Why not one of the others?”
“Because he is to be the final piece of this forsaken puzzle.”
Maels now had a perfect reason to break away from the procession proper so as to venture off into the forests to carry out his secret conduct. He would tell the others that upon regaining consciousness, the boy claimed to have been attacked by an unknown demon deep into the woods. Who else but Maels, the highest ranking clergyman in the delegation, to seek out and exercise holy justice upon the unknown danger that had injured the poor, hapless lad that was currently being carried to his carriage? What was more, word would spread amongst the other parties in the procession that a genuine demon had been discovered in the area, not just one of their descendants. This was perfect, considering that a major part of his plan involved the summoning of such a being, particularly the one that was sealed within the medallion.
The arcanite returned a short while later, the unconscious boy in his arms. Opening the door and helping the man transfer the lad onto the floor, Maels immediately sensed the disordered energies that surrounded him.
“Good work, Ser Asten. That will be all.”
The man bowed his head and gingerly closed the door of the carriage before returning to his horse’s side and accepting the reins from one of his companions.
“May I, Your Grace?”
Sensing Gartur’s meaning, he nodded his permission and his old servant knelt down to remove the burlap sack that had been placed on the youth’s head. Kind-hearted as always, thought Maels, aware that Gartur had wanted to make it easier for the boy to breathe.