Sam Bowring - Prophecy's Ruin

He held Fahren’s stare until the High Mage nodded and joined Methodrex in departing. Bel stalked off along the line of students, further inspecting their spells. Lava bubbled out of the ground, vines twisted to follow their caster’s wishes, white light crashed in waves and golden bolts of energy shot forth. It was all very impressive …and ultimately useless. With a stormy expression, Bel left the academy and walked out onto the cobblestoned street. Naphur was coming towards him, along with Holdwith’s gerent and several officers.

‘There you are!’ called Naphur. ‘We must make ready – the longer we wait, the longer Fenvarrow has to prepare!’

‘No, Naphur,’ said Bel, quite clearly. ‘We must wait. There are others still journeying to join our army, and it will take time to outfit them all. We must pool our resources.’

‘Bah,’ said Naphur. ‘You sound like Fahren, always wishing to delay. What do you seek in the academy, Bel? Magic? I thought we were beyond that, you and I.’ He drew the sword from his hip and ran it over his gauntleted palm. ‘I thought we believed in steel.’

‘If I say we wait,’ said Bel, ‘we wait.’

‘How dare you give me commands!’

‘You asked me to lead this army,’ said Bel, ‘and lead it I shall. The many who have joined us – some no more than peasants – why did they so readily leave behind their homes, their families? Because of a promise given, Naphur – the promise of me. You gave it yourself many times as you rode amongst them, and now you must reap what you have sown. They follow me, Naphur. And I say we wait.’

Naphur’s eyes blazed and for a moment the sword was stationary across his hand. Then he slid it into its scabbard and gave a curt nod. The gerent and other officers present witnessed the Throne of Kainordas bow to the will of the blue-haired man. It was a story that would spread quickly.

A booming cry echoed around the fort, full-bellied and animal.

‘What was that?’ Bel demanded.

‘Nothing to worry about, lord,’ said the gerent. ‘We captured a whelkling a short while back – must’ve got blown off course somehow. We’ve just been working out what to do with it.’

‘A whelkling!’ Bel recalled the creature from his lessons with Fahren.

‘It were carrying supplies to Skygrip,’ continued the gerent. ‘Overburdened, so maybe that’s why –’

‘Enough!’ said Bel. ‘Did you say it was bound for Skygrip?’

‘Yes, lord.’

‘So if it were released with someone on its back, it would bear them to Skygrip Castle?’

‘I suppose so,’ chuckled the gerent. ‘But that particularly insane person would meet a very nasty end, I’m sure.’

Bel stood in silent thought for a moment, then walked away.

‘Well,’ snapped Naphur, ‘don’t just stand there like hair stuck on shit. You heard him – we have to see to the arming of the army!’

The town’s inn had a ‘garden’ comprised of large pots and long stone trays. These housed plants from the surrounding plains, unspectacular yet somewhat pleasant. This was where Bel found Jaya, lazily twirling a knife as she sat on a bench. He sat down next to her and she rearranged herself against him.

‘Any luck?’ she asked.

‘I know little of magic,’ he replied. ‘Fahren and the head of the academy are searching for something to help us, but they don’t seem optimistic.’

Losara watched them curiously – they were so easy with each other, so naturally entwined. Would it be this way for him and Lalenda? Did he love her as these two clearly loved each other? And what if Losara had met Jaya – would he have fallen in love with her? Would Bel have fallen in love with Lalenda?

‘You are worried that your other has such great magic at his disposal?’

‘I’d be a fool not to,’ Bel said with a sigh, and she kissed his neck. ‘It is well and good to be a great warrior, but a man is still just a man. What can one man do?’

‘The answer will come,’ she murmured. ‘It has to – fate got you this far.’

The door to the inn opened and a willowy girl in a red and yellow robe emerged. She went to an urn of water, then spotted them and gave a start.

‘Forgive me,’ she said, trying not to stare at Bel’s hair. ‘I didn’t see you there. I’m Gertrum, the innkeeper’s daughter …I was just going to water the plants, but I can come back later if I’m disturbing you …’

Jaya giggled softly. ‘What a sweet girl,’ she whispered sarcastically.

‘Go ahead,’ said Bel with a wave. ‘Water the plants.’

Gertrum nodded and turned back to the urn. She put her hand in the water and a hissing began. The water bubbled and boiled, and vapour rose rapidly from its surface. Gertrum waggled the fingers of her other hand, magically collecting the vapour into a ball. After a couple of minutes, she had created a dense little cloud.

‘Well,’ said Jaya, ‘I’d been wondering why there wasn’t a watering can.’

Bel watched with interest as the girl walked around the courtyard with the cloud. She would wave it into position above a plant, then mumble something and rain fell.

‘That’s nothing,’ said Jaya. ‘Back in Athika, our family sometimes paid for the services of a weather mage. Dry plains out there, sometimes too dry for the crops we planted. I’ve seen a mage gather moisture from a cloudless sky and make it storm …if only for a moment.’

Bel’s gaze turned slowly from Gertrum’s little smudge of vapour to the grey mass of the Cloud that loomed above them. Suddenly he leaped to his feet. ‘You there!’ he exclaimed, so forcefully it made Gertrum jump. He strode over and took her by the arm. ‘This spell you’re casting – what is it?’

‘Um …er …’ She glanced at his hand but did not pull free. ‘It’s just a rain spell my lord. Most mages can do them – it’s just basic magic.’

‘And it affects the whole cloud on which it is cast?’

‘Um …well, yes, lord.’

His hand shot up to the sky, finger pointing at the billowing darkness. ‘Could it be cast on a cloud like that?’

‘I …I don’t know,’ the girl stammered. Jaya stood and gently prised Bel’s unthinking grip from her arm. ‘Maybe. If you were close to the heart of it.’

‘The heart of it,’ repeated Bel, as the cry of the whelkling boomed off the walls.

Suddenly Losara was himself in the dream, watching Battu striding back and forth and shouting orders at the troops.

Let him , he thought. He was certain that he was meant to eventually supplant Battu as Shadowdreamer, but the gods had not specified a time frame, and there was no point making trouble with Battu before a battle. They needed all the strength they could muster.

He dissolved into shadow and travelled swiftly to the border to look upon the growing army of his other. It was an impressive force, many tens of thousands strong, and each race was fierce and determined. He wondered if the great power he felt inside himself – as yet not truly tested – would be able to hold them all back. Certainly thousands would fall to him, but would it be enough? He didn’t like to discover himself thinking this way – loss of life on such a scale brought him no joy.

Meanwhile, the Fenvarrow army was growing larger by the day, but the gods had been right – the population had never grown back to its full force under the Caretaker. They had a greater diversity of soldiers, that was true, with Arabodedas, Vortharg, Goblin, Graka and Pixie. The Mireform too had kept their word, and though only eight had met Losara’s summons, the arrival of such mighty allies had boosted morale considerably. It was interesting that the Mireforms answered only to him, refusing even to speak with Battu – a fact that Battu glowered over but pointedly failed to mention.