The mage licked his lips nervously, his face pale as a sheet from a mixture of fear and blood loss. “What do you want to know about the Atrometos attacks?”
“I assume you’re the ones behind them,” Jasper replied. “But why? And how, for that matter, are you smuggling this many Atrometos so deep into the Empire? And don’t forget,” he added menacingly, “I’ll be casting my truth spell, so I’d just suggest you stick to the truth.”
“I…” The mage faltered for a moment and then gathered his courage. “If you want to understand what’s happening, we need to start with Lord Sarganīl.”
Jasper pursed his lips in irritation, suspecting the man of trying to avoid answering his question, but finally nodded his head curtly. “Fine, then how does Lord Sarganīl play into all this?”
“I don’t know all the details,” the man began, and Jasper’s temper flared.
“You’re the damned mind mage, aren’t you? You really expect me to believe that you don’t know what’s happening?"
“I’m a mind mage,” the man replied quickly, “but not the only one in my order.”
The spell told him the man was telling the truth, so Jasper tamped down on his irritation. “That’s the cult of Duluḫḫû,” he asked, to which the man nodded, “and there’s more of you?”
“There’s a handful of mind mages still in our order, but only two of us came to Birnah - myself, and our leader, Rahûm.”
“Why didn’t the others come,” he asked bluntly.
The mage snorted, beginning to recover a little bit of his spirit as Jasper eased off the threats. “Little remains of our order these days beyond a scattering of mages bound by the fragile ties of tradition. Rahûm calls himself our leader by right of ancestry, but I was the only one to answer his summons.”
“So is this…Rahûm trying to take over the region?”
“I don’t know his goals,” the mage replied with a shake of his head. “Ever since I’ve arrived here, I’ve been stationed outside the city, tasked with orchestrating the Atrometos attacks, so I’ve barely interacted with Lord Sarganīl myself. What I do know is that he was the one who originally invited us here.
“What?!” Tsia exploded. “Do you really expect us to believe such lies? No lord would ever be so-”
“Tsia,” Jasper nudged her with his elbow. “He’s not lying.”
“Or maybe they meddled with his mind too, and he just thinks he isn’t lying,” she snapped.
It was a possibility he hadn’t considered. “Perhaps,” he admitted after a moment’s thought, “but if that’s the case, then nothing we learn from him is of any use. For now, let’s assume he’s telling the truth.” He shot a look toward S̆ams̆ādur. “Unless you’ve picked on something?”
The prince pursed his lips thoughtfully and finally shook his head. “Mind you, I’m not an expert on this area,” he warned, “but I don’t think his mind’s been tampered with. There might be some other way he’s tricking your spell, of course, but near as I can tell he’s being truthful.”
Satisfied, Jasper turned back to the mage. “So Sarganīl was the one to invite you here. Do you know why?”
“I believe he originally hired Rahûm to bespell his king,” the mage replied. “There have been rumors of tension between King Kabāni and his wife, and Lord Sarganīl feared that the king would set her aside and remove their children from the line in succession.
“Father would never do that,” Tsia denied stoutly. “The only reason he married her in the first place was to tie Lord Sarganīl more closely to the realm.”
“Father?” The mage’s eyes sharpened and a touch of color crept into his cheeks. “I didn’t realize King Kabāni had such a skilled mage for a daughter, but judging from your lovely looks, I’d wager you’re not one of Lord Sarganīl’s grandchildren. Has your father has grown weary of his loveless marriage? Has he perhaps another heir in mind?”
Tsia flushed angrily, ready to deny his insinuations, but Jasper quieted her with a look. Don’t let him get under your skin, he willed her to understand, before turning back to the mage. “So, Sarganīl was plotting against the king, but somewhere along the line, things went wrong. Why is Rahûm here instead of the king’s courts, and how did the Atrometos enter the picture?”
The mage started to answer but descended into a fit of dry coughs. “Any chance I can get a sip of water?”
Jasper felt a tick of suspicion at the request, but he couldn’t think of any reason that allowing the man a drink of water should be dangerous, so he reluctantly drew his canteen and held it out to the man.
“Gonna need a hand,” the mage said, raising his stumps ruefully. Guilt replaced suspicion, and Jasper stood up and pressed the canteen to the man’s lips. He took a few large gulps, before finally pulling back his head. “That’s enough,” he rasped out.
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Tossing the canteen in the grass - as there was no way Jasper would drink out of it again until it had been thoroughly washed - he sat back down and waved for the man to proceed.
“I’m not sure if I can answer your question,” the mage began again. “As far as I know, the Atrometos were part of the original plan. My job was to cause chaos in the villages around Birnah so that Sarganil could petition the king for aid. Meanwhile, Rahûm was going to ensure that the king did nothing.”
“Making the king look unfit for the position,” Jasper realized.
“Yes, apparently Sarganil’s goal was to undermine the king’s reputation until even his loyalists wouldn’t speak up for him, and then, once he’d been made to appear like a coward and faithless liege, he’d have Rahûm influence Kabāni to step aside in favor of his eldest son, Sarganīl’s grandchild.”
“Obviously, that’s no longer the plan. Rahûm has remained in Birnah and, judging from Lord Sarganīl’s unusual behavior, has dominated the lord's mind, but he has not seen fit to share his new plans with me. The only communication I’ve received is to continue the attacks on the village, and to keep an eye out for the durgu prince,” he added, with a slight sneer. “I assume that’s how you defeated me - he’s a mind mage, right?”
Jasper ignored the man’s question, frowning as he pondered the information they’d received. The mage hadn't given them all the answers he'd hoped for, but he seemed to be telling the truth. Either that, or he’s figured out a way to deceive my spell. The possibility was frightening, but all too real. He was a mind mage, after all.
He jolted as something warm and wet splashed across his face, whirring to face the mage.
“What the hell-”
“S̆emû bēlīka,” the man snarled, and Jasper felt his limbs grow rigid. He stood up stiffly, his arm reaching for the glaive that hung at his side, even as his mind screamed at his limbs to obey him. Instead, he pivoted sharply and swung the glaive directly toward the person sitting next to him, Tsia. Time seemed to slow as he struggled for control of his body. Tsia’s wide eyes, the glaive’s icy trail, the mage’s smug smirk - he saw it all, and anger and outrage boiled over.
Power bubbled up from within him, not his usual essence, but the white-hot heat of an incandescent soul. Flames roiled off his body as the glaive wavered to a halt a hair’s breadth from Tsia’s nose and, for a moment, no one dared to breathe. Then with a swift turn, Jasper yanked the glaive back in the opposite direction.
Bone and flesh crumpled as the icy weapon obliterated the man’s mouth and jaws. For a second, the mage stared at him in uncomprehending horror, before his brain finally caught up to his situation, and he slumped over, dead.
“Are you alright?” Jasper kept his eyes glued to the broken mage as he asked the question, unable to bring himself to look Tsia in the eyes. I almost killed her. That damn mage, he- he.
“She’s fine, Jasper,” the durgu spoke for her. “But you’re not. You need to stop burning your soul.”
Jasper hadn’t even noticed the flames wreathing every inch of his body, but a simple glance told him the prince was right. He struggled to turn them off, the anger that filled his soul utterly unquenched, but he was no more willing to be ruled by his emotions than the mage’s foul words. As the flames guttered out, Jasper turned and walked out of the prince’s tent.
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Jasper was in a fog as he walked back to his tent, his mind churning from the mage’s actions. I thought we were being careful, and he still outsmarted us. When it came to Corsythian magical theory, Jasper wasn’t much of a scholar. Still, he knew that there needed to be a physical mechanism to release the essence when casting a spell. That was the reason most mages used their hands but, technically, it was possible, with quite a bit of extra training, to use other parts of your body, so long as they provided sufficient kinetic release. It must have been the water, he realized. Spitting it was his substitute for motion. It gave him little comfort, however, to figure that out after the fact. The truth was, despite his best efforts, they’d still flirted with disaster.
Or worse. Jasper shuddered as Tsia’s face flashed in front of him again, a deer-in-headlights look in her eyes. He’d nearly killed her, his mind defiled by that scum. With an angry growl, he flung the glaive across the tent and, dropping unto his bed, buried his face in his hands as anger, humiliation, and shame coursed through him.
He didn’t hear her come in, but he tensed as his bed sagged beneath the weight of another individual, and a cold, small hand brushed against the nape of his neck.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Tsia said reassuringly.
“I know. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s S̆ams̆ādur’s - he’s the one who let the mental protection on us lapse,” Jasper replied angrily, but then stopped himself with a sigh. “But I know it’s not really his fault either. None of us expected that mage could find a way to cast a spell without his hands. I mean, I've met one other mage who could do that - one!”
Lifting his head, he turned to face her. “Are you sure you’re ok?”
“I’m a little shaken up,” she admitted wryly, “but no actual harm was done. Not to me, anyway.” She hesitated before continuing, “I can only imagine how difficult it must be to have your mind dominated like that.”
Jasper snorted. “You know, when I was a kid someone broke into our house. Frankly, I don’t know what the thief was looking for, because they barely took anything - a little bit of cash, a few trinkets, nothing important. Probably should have been grateful for that, but all I can remember feeling was so…violated. Most of us go through life blinded by an illusion of safety. We deadbolt a door with a fragile glass window right beside it and lie to ourselves that we’re safe, that that little piece of metal is all we need to protect ourselves. But every once in a while, someone comes along and throws a brick through the window and just like that,” he snapped his fingers, “the illusion is shattered, and we’re suddenly forced to face the reality of just how scary our world actually is.”
Reaching over, Jasper patted her knee softly. “I’ll be fine. I just…need a little time for that illusion to reform.”
“If you want to talk,” she offered, but he shook his head.
“Not about that. But we need to discuss what we learned from that mage,” he added, practically spitting the last word. “We assumed the mage was outside of Birnah, but if anything he’s told us was true, then there’s at least one more of them in the city. Ihra could be in danger.”
“True, but I don’t think you need to worry,” Tsia said with a slight smile. “Ihra can take care of herself.”