I rode into Trenia atop Ebonheart, my normal raiment shifting to a more noble guise, and the helm I wore turning into an icy crown. Simple magic, but effective. The horns sounded throughout the city, as my people announced my arrival. The sound was cut off, however, by a roar, as a pillar of black flame leapt into the air from inside the city.
I did not bother urging Ebonheart to move faster. Instead, I took wing, and flew to the site of the blast. Landing in front of the Healer’s Hall, I frowned as I turned my back upon it, and looked towards the evident source of the flames. A temple of some sort, made of stone, but it was ruined, now. The flames had shot up from within the temple, and it collapsed in upon itself. Now, the black flames burned the stone itself, clearly the product of some kind of magic.
I grabbed the closest onlooker. “You, there! Tell me what happened here!”
The man blinked, and turned, glassy-eyed, to me. He was in shock, that much was clear, but his eyes began focusing a bit more when he saw my wings. “An angel?” He shook his head, slowly, and then said, “Sorry, I know not how to address you. But what happened?”
He turned to look at the smoldering ruins. “That used to be a temple, barely more than a shrine, to be honest, to Torm. But, but then the fire just burst up out of the ground, by the altar, and the roof came down. I was delivering herbs, as always and so I was already on my way out when it happened. I just barely made it out alive!”
I heard a door open behind me, and saw two people standing there. One was a woman, dressed in the robes of a healer. The other was a man, a paladin by the looks of him, wearing with the symbol of the Red Knight. He looked familiar, and the look in his eyes said that he definitely recognized me. But that was not her problem, right now.
I gently pushed the man towards the healer, and looked her in the eye. “Take him. He’s had a nasty shock, but I think he’s been spared the worst of it. Send the bill, if there is one, to the ruler of the city, and I shall see it paid.”
The healer nodded, her own uncertainty fading behind a concrete task being given to her, and took the shocked man inside. With that, I turned my attention to the paladin. “You look like a strong man, and one of faith as well. I know not what type of magic conjured these flames, but I’ll not see them spreading through the city. I charge you with this task, and with putting them out, if possible, so that we might know what happened.”
The paladin frowned. “And who are you to be charging anyone to do anything, then? Are you the new ruler of this city? When last we met, you did not grace my sister and I with your name.”
“Ah, that’s where I remember you from! The brother and sister that were traveling through Breledo. Where is your sister, then? Is she well?”
“Yes, her time came, and she gave birth to a boy, just before the flames took the temple of Torm. But I would like an answer.”
My eyes widened at what he said, but I put that to the side, for the moment. “My name is Melinda Rimedancer, though once upon a time I was known as Eriksdaughter. I am the Twice-Born servant of Auril Icedawn, Lady of Winter, and the army that has carved out the beginnings of a kingdom here in the northlands did so at my command. So, yes, I am the ruler of this city.”
The paladin looked only slightly mollified. “Then, what of the story you told us in Breledo? Of your time in Frostwind Dale? And why you came to Breledo?”
“That was all true. My reasons for being in Breledo?” I shrugged. “They were true enough. I simply left out the little business of my being a Twice-Born, and that my Goddess directed my steps to that city, to begin investigating the prophecy, saying that I would find my path from there.”
I paused, and then looked more intently at the paladin. “Gery, wasn’t it? And your sister’s name was Balde? I have been traveling the planes on business, of late, and so I am a bit behind the times. You said your sister gave birth, yes? How long has it been since last we met?”
“Just on nine months. And, since I know you know about the prophecy, the answer to your next question is ‘yes’. Did you… arrange that?”
“Did I seduce you and your sister, to bring about parts of the prophecy? No. I was trying to gather information about the prophecies, myself, and in such a way that would not be combative or belligerent. I had no reason to go seeking conflict with you, after all. Call that the will of the gods, if it is anything.”
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The paladin finally relaxed. “That is good. While I am ever a willing piece in the Lady’s hand, I dislike others trying to use me, or my sister, without our will.”
“Just as it is my nature to rebel and bring down those who would try and limit me, save only those strictures I hold from the Frostmaiden. In that, we are not so different. For now, can you see to organizing people to contain the fire? At least until it becomes clear that it won’t spread?”
“This I can do. But my sister and I will want words with you, when the current crisis has passed.”
“That can be arranged. For now, I must see about my duties.”
(Outskirts of Uldan)
Queen Findelye Seharinthe rode at the head of her host as they approached Uldan, the country of Thedra’s primary trade port. The host had ridden hard, after the cataclysmic blast that could be seen all the way from their woods. Something like that could not simply be ignored, after all.
As they approached, delegation emerged from the city, bearing no flag or sign of a noble house. Findelye halted, to allow them to approach. They were four in number, all human, with the one at the center appearing to be a mage of some sort, while the other three were his bodyguards.
The delegation stopped within range of conversation, but not of melee weapons, not wishing to find the limits of her guards’ tolerance so soon. The mage spoke, as she expected. “I am Forvall Blackwand, Mayor of Uldan. We wish to discuss terms of our surrender.”
That caused her to blink in confusion. “Surrender? Do you take this as an invasion force, then? We were merely investigating the blast we saw yesterday. For none of us have never seen such powerful spellwork before. What happened?”
The mayor shook his head. “It matters not whether you are here to invade, or offer aid. Had you not shown up this morning, I would have sent a messenger to the border, asking for much the same. It is indeed true that we’ve never seen a blast that one’s like before, but we at least have some idea of what happened, thanks to our diviners.”
Findelye leaned forward in her saddle, eager for news. “Tell us, then. We have ridden far and fast, and have not had time for our diviners to do the proper spells. Does this have to do with the portal to the higher planes that opened in Magika?”
The mayor nodded grimly. “Aye, that it does. From what the diviners can uncover with their spells, there was some sort of explosion up on the other side of the portal, likely from whatever artifice was keeping the portal open for such an unnaturally long time. It is known that the other end of the portal was in Izrail, the home plane of Torm, which explains why so many of the creatures spilling out through the gate were archons.
“The explosion was so bright that those closer to the blast who gazed upon it were blinded, requiring magic to restore their sight. Those who have some connection to nature say that the land is poisoned, and will be unsuited for human life for one hundred years or more. But that is not the most disturbing facet of the tale.”
Findelye frowned. “It is not? Then what was the disturbing part?”
“Where Magika once stood, there is now only a crater. But, if one were to judge by the state of that crater, where the ground has turned to glass, then the obvious conclusion was that the explosion did not destroy the city, for the city was removed before the explosion. To confirm, the mages tried to speak with the dead, and could not reach the souls of those who they knew were in the city. Then, they tried contacting other planes, and found out that the city had, indeed, been stolen before the explosion ripped through the portal, destroying all other evidence of the city’s fate.”
“And the explosion came through the portal? Like if one sets off a barrel of dwarven powder in too small a room, and the blast reaches through an open doorway?”
“Yes. This was confirmed by the smaller blast that happened, not far from Uldan. Another portal to that plane of Izrail was located there, used by smugglers who the Thedran authorities ignored so long as they remained useful. When we found them, we learned more about the cause of the explosion, though it is all hearsay.”
“Hearsay is better than what we know, so far. What did they say happened? And who are they?”
“Heh,” the Mayor laughed. “They were apparently some kind of resistance group in the god’s plane, trying to work against some of the things going on, there. At any rate, they got a warning that they needed to flee through the smuggler’s portal, and get a safe distance away, or they’d be caught in the blast.”
“Wait, someone knew the blast was coming?”
“Yeah. Some group of adventurers, apparently working under the god’s nose, went to the plane, trying to find a way to close the portal. They found one, but apparently they couldn’t, or wouldn’t, find a way to bring it down without destroying Torm’s seat of power.”
“By the gods!”
“Yes, well, Torm may not be all that popular in Thedra, or what was Thedra, but Uldan is a trade port. We’ve heard through sending spells, that apparently the temple to Torm in Breledo blew up, too. At the same time. Fortunately, the resulting magic flames didn’t spread past the remains of the temple, so the death toll was light, at least amongst those outside the temple.”
Findelye nodded slowly, her mind slowly wrapping around the scale of what had happened. Wars had been started on far less pretext, and Thedra was not universally loved at the best of times. “I see. So, this caused you, as leader of your city, to seek us out?”
“Aye,” he nodded. “Thedra as we knew it is dead. It was dead the moment the mages lost control of that damn portal, most like, but it sometimes takes a country quite some time to recognize that it is in its final days, if it manages that feat at all before the final day has already come and gone. Either way, word is that the Silverwood has been ravaged by treachery, and manpower is what you need most of all. My people are willing to submit to the elves, so long as the borders are drawn to include us. I think you’ll find that, with Magika gone, you may be able to convince much of the former land to join you, provided that they have a few protections in place.”
Findelye looked over to her general, who nodded. “We would have needed to conquer, if not destroy, much of the Thedran territories in order to secure our own borders, and keep out raiders. If the lands join willingly, we could extend control further. Perhaps merging our lands.”
The Queen considered, and then nodded. “Then, We decree that the call shall go out to all those orphans of Thedra. The Silvermoon Empire offers you a place, as equals. But know that slavery is forbidden in the Empire. All slave owners shall be granted amnesty for their behaviors and crimes before the formation of the Empire, should they free their slaves within a tenday of their territory joining the Empire.”
The Mayor nodded, slowly. “A new kingdom rises, then, as both Thedra and Torm’s realm of Izrail fall. The prophecy is proceeding on apace.”
Findelye nodded grimly. “I pray only that my part, and the part of those under the Empire’s aegis, has been fulfilled, and we are not downstream from events when the last parts of the prophecy fall into place.”
“From your mouth to the gods’ ears, my Empress,” the Mayor said, bowing.