Jak Koke - The Edge of Chaos

He needed to rest. And if something killed them while he was recovering, then so be it. Duvan closed his eyes as his exhaustion overcame his pain and pulled his consciousness down into the sweet dark numbness of oblivion.

Gregor felt the last drops of the thick liquid on his lips and swallowed. The oily potion tasted of bloodbark and lavender. He immediately found the small cot in the corner of his lab and lay down on it.

In moments, his awareness was out of his body, slicing through vaporous walls and ghostly objects. The magic of the potion allowed him only limited time, but his awareness could move fast.

Gregor’s awareness moved past the throngs of pilgrims in their tents and wagons and through Ormpetarr’s city walls. He skirted the thoroughfare, noticing that the veil on the border of the Plaguewrought Land was milky and opaque in his mind vision, like a cataract.

Gregor moved away from the border, back out of Ormpetarr, and up the hill to the ruins outside Tyrangal’s mansion. There was a haze surrounding parts of the burned-out structures.

The hard stone of Tyrangal’s mansion was woven with a magical latticework of some sort of warding-protection from clairvoyant spies and extraplanar intruders. Gregor admired the order of it, the beauty of the perfect crisscrossing web of shining copper light.

No matter. He had done this before.

Gregor pushed his awareness up to the entrance and focused. I seek audience with you, Tyrangal , he said through his mind. I have important news .

A small opening formed in the latticework of protective magic, and Gregor’s awareness moved inside.

Tyrangal seemed to uncoil in front of him like an elegant and shining metal snake. The form she had chosen to display to him was difficult to identify, so brightly did she shine. But her movements were sinuous in the smooth way she turned and rose to face him.

Gregor felt, more than saw, Tyrangal’s smirk, but it seemed more like the smile of a cobra about to strike a mouse who dared get too close. Gregor knew she was just trying to make him afraid of her, and he laughed inwardly. It was working.

Well met, young monk , she said sleepily. To what do I owe the pleasure?

And he heard the danger in her words. Do not waste her time was the subtext. Do not wake her from a nap for no good reason. Do not make her angry, for she is powerful and can destroy you. What he said was, I have news that your… friend, Duvan, is in danger. The Order of Blue Fire wants him for ‘questioning.’

In this form, Tyrangal’s head reared at the news. Gregor did not know what Tyrangal was-human wizard as she most often appeared, or something else entirely-but one thing that he knew for certain was that she was immensely powerful. In any case, she was a force to be respected.

Vraith? she asked.

Yes .

Tyrangal snorted derisively. That elf is ambitious beyond caution. I’ve watched her rise too fast in the Order. She is not as powerful a wizard as she would like everyone to believe, but she’s charismatic and knows the ancient art of manipulation exceedingly well .

Gregor remembered the ritual from the night before. He doubted he’d seen a ritual that powerful before. It seemed clear that Tyrangal underestimated Vraith.

Her spellscar is also a problem , Tyrangal went on. She has some sort of ability to see and manipulate the essence of creatures. Have you noticed? That is the true source of her power, and like virtually everyone who gains access to great power quickly and without proportionate cost and training, she abuses and misuses hers .

Certainly , Gregor said, knowing that Tyrangal was on his side.

In fact , Tyrangal said, one of the reasons I have supported your work, Gregor, is because you seemed different. You have a great ability, but you have been mostly cautious in its use. For over a hundred years, I have seen the evidence. The great danger of obtaining a spellscar is that the ’scarred lack the wisdom to use their abilities conscientiously. With great power comes great responsibility. Do not forget that .

Of course , Gregor said. Normally, a part of him thought, he would have rankled to be lectured this way. But there was something about Tyrangal … something about her voice … I have been exceedingly careful with mine .

True , Tyrangal said, for the most part you have. What else do you know about Vraith?

Gregor smiled. Confiding in her was exactly the right thing to do, he thought. It would feel so good to share this information, any information, with her.

Go ahead , came the melodic voice. Tell me everything that happened .

He told her of the ritual on the border of the Plaguewrought Land, how his elixir allowed the pilgrims to survive long enough to move the border. He still wasn’t sure of how the elixir worked-more tests needed to be done-but it was clearly powerful.

A rush of warmth filled Gregor. Confiding in Tyrangal was exactly right. She would be happy with him, and her approval was critical. He needed her to like him. He told Tyrangal everything, for she was his ally and she needed to know.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Gregor had an inkling that she was using magic on him, charming or persuading him to tell her things. But, no-he pushed that suspicion aside. Tyrangal was his friend. He wanted to tell her. Gregor didn’t do things he didn’t want to do.

Gregor told her of his visions. That Vraith’s ritual would help achieve control over spellplague storms outside the Plaguewrought Land. With this magic, all of the blue fire in Faerun could eventually be tamed!

And after he was done, Tyrangal spoke. Of course she wants Duvan , she said. He could harm her. But she must not get him. She must not be allowed to complete the next ritual .

Gregor frowned. Vraith’s magic would organize and contain plaguelands , he said. It would create order from chaos .

Tyrangal’s golden eyes flashed. This ritual might be able to accomplish that, young monk , she said. But Vraith and the Order of Blue Fire will not use it for containment. I guarantee you that that is not their plan .

What does she intend then?

A hint of anger was evident in Tyrangal’s voice, Vraith will use this ritual to move the border of the Plaguewrought Land, to expand the total area of these plaguelands. Of that I am sure. The Order wants to increase the blue fire’s reach, and if they gain control over the border, they will eventually be able to unleash the spellplague contained within .

She continued, I have been monitoring the border, and it has been stable for a hundred years now-not the longest time, but long enough to indicate that, barring some major magical catastrophe, it’s unlikely to move. This is a good thing. This is a necessary thing for the survival of most creatures .

I didn’t know what Vraith was planning , Gregor said.

So now that you do , Tyrangal said, her words dripping with honey, you will refuse to make the elixir for the festival. She must not be allowed to proceed with a larger ritual .

That sounded reasonable to Gregor. If he didn’t supply the elixir then Vraith couldn’t perform the ritual.

Perhaps.

All those pilgrims were already gathering in the valley, all preparing for the festival. Even without the elixir, they will all be heading to the Plaguewrought Land. Vraith might or might not try to proceed without enough elixir to protect the pilgrims, and if she did proceed then all those pilgrims would die. If she didn’t proceed, then most of those pilgrims would die anyway.