Brian Pratt - Shades of the past

After filling his glass with wine, he replaces the wine bottle in the travel pack. Picking up the courier pouch he moves over to the table where the candle burns. He takes his seat and places his glass of wine on the table. Opening the pouch, he pulls out a single letter.

It bears the seal of Lord Cytok and reads as follows:

Lord Magus,

You are to take as many mages as are able and set out forthwith to intercept the invading army before it leaves Empire controlled territory. Speed is of the essence. Leave no survivors.

Lord Cytok

Kerith-Ayxt puts the letter down and takes a moment to savor the last of his wine before leaving his tent. Outside he finds his aide Aezyl standing by the fire with a mage of the First Circle.

“…Baerustin and other places like it are the reason the School was founded in the first place,” Aezyl says to the First. “When you achieve the Second Circle you will learn in more detail the events that turned this once thriving city into what you see today.”

“You mean a mage destroyed Baerustin?” the First asks.

“In a way yes,” replies Aezyl. “An experiment gone wrong in a time when mages worked blind, trying to discover ever more powerful spells and enchantments. Many of the rules and laws that you have already been taught were just speculations at the time. Magic was unleashed here, magic of a most fearsome sort. Before the citizens understood the danger they were in, many were killed.”

Kerith-Ayxt listens as his aide relates the tale of Baerustin to the First.

“Brother beset brother, father turned on sons,” he continues. “None now recall just what the mage who unleashed this upon Baerustin was attempting to accomplish. But the magic is still active, even after a millennium.” He turns to gaze directly in the First’s eyes and says, “It turns you mad if you are exposed to it for any length of time.”

“Then, we are to go mad?” he asks in apprehension.

Shaking his head Aezyl says, “No. Here above the sand we are safe.”

Kerith-Ayxt clears his throat.

Aezyl turns and sees his lord standing there. “Yes milord?” he asks. The First bows to him and then moves away.

“We are moving north at first light,” the High Lord Magus states. “The Emperor wishes us to deal with the invading army before it can reach friendly territory.”

“Then we are to destroy it milord?” he asks.

Nodding, Kerith-Ayxt replies, “Yes. To the last man.”

The sudden plunge into darkness disorients Jiron just enough for James to wriggle free. “Come back here murderer!” he hears Jiron saying not too far from him.

“I didn’t murder anyone,” replies James as he gets off the dais and moves quickly around it. He can hear Jiron’s breathing as he follows.

The room has grown cold, very cold. He tries to formulate a spell to use against Jiron but he simply can’t concentrate well enough. The blow to his head still has him unable to summon the magic. The ring! Reaching into his pouch, he searches for the ring all the while continuing to back away from Jiron. He steps lightly so as not to announce his exact location. His fingers search the pouch but fail to find the ring.

“Tinok told me of how you sent him away the night Cassie died,” he says.

Tinok? Tinok was here too? A feeling that something’s definitely not right comes over him. Dave and Tinok being here at the same time? Unlikely. His mind begins to throw off the anger and rage as cool logic asserts itself.

Vague outlines begin to appear as his eyes adjust to the darkness. “Jiron,” he says. “When did you talk to Tinok?”

“After you fell in the water,” he replies. “I followed you and found him.”

“You followed me?” he asks. Suddenly, his orb springs to life in the palm of his hand. It’s a strain to hold even that much magic, his head is throbbing so badly. Seeing the knife rise to strike, he says, “Wait!”

The knife pauses. “Why should I, murderer?” Jiron asks.

“How did you get past the monster in the water?” he asks.

“There was no monster,” he says. “I did find where the Empire was holding Tinok. He was mutilated!” His eyes still show the intensity of emotion at what was done to his friend.

James sees the knife begin to move and hollers as fast as he can, “If the Empire controlled this area, then why didn’t the mages follow?” He closes his eyes and braces for the knife to strike. When the attack doesn’t come, he opens his eyes to see the knife but inches from his throat. Jiron stares at him with a thoughtful look on his face. He can see the rage beginning to melt away.

Then it all clicks together. The smell of his grandmother’s cinnamon rolls; Jiron seeing the headless torso; finding a room right out of one of his campaigns. “It wasn’t real,” he says to him. “None of it was.”

“But…” he stammers and then looks down at the front of his shirt. The blood that had stained it from when he held Tinok is no longer there. “I held him in my arms,” he says as the hand holding the knife drops back to his side.

“I know,” James says laying a hand on his shoulder. “I found Dave. He told me you were an agent of the Empire and had handed him over to them at Ironhold.”

Jiron’s head comes up. “I did no such thing,” he asserts.

“Just as I did not send Tinok away,” he states with conviction.

“Then what happened?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Maybe this place is cursed in some way, turns people against each other.”

Jiron sheathes his knife. “I’m sorry,” he says. The rage which so threatened to consume him has now completely left him.

“So am I,” replies James with a sad grin. “What do you say we get out of here before anything else happens?”

“Yeah,” agrees Jiron. “Let’s get out of here.”

The light from the orb reveals that they are no longer in the room they landed in when they fell through the floor. This one is much smaller. A raised dais sits prominently in the center of the room, the room itself is only two feet wider than the dais. It’s what’s depicted upon the dais that concerns James.

“Jiron look,” he says as he draws Jiron’s attention to the symbol of three dots forming a triangle with lines running between them.

“That’s not good,” he says. “But why would they have a temple here in a place that’s cursed?”

James glances around the small room. A shudder runs through him from the cold that’s leeching the warmth from his body. “I’m not even sure we are in the same place.” Looking down at himself, he finds the front of his shirt no longer shows where the lightning bolt had struck him. He touches it to reassure himself it was never really there.

Turning back to Jiron he starts to say something when a small creature suddenly appears in the air behind Jiron’s left shoulder. “Jiron!” he whispers as he points to the creature hovering just beyond his shoulder. Barely a foot in height, the scaly creature is roughly man-like. Hunched over as if it’s carrying too much weight, it stares at them from its gnarled head with glowing red eyes.

When Jiron turns and sees the creature, he quickly takes two steps backward. “What is it?” he asks. The creature stays there but a moment before disappearing.

“I don’t know what that was,” replies James. “But we better get out of here fast.” A sense of foreboding comes over him and the room all of a sudden feels smaller.

“I’m with you there,” agrees Jiron. A single corridor extends away from the room. With knife in hand, he takes the lead. He doesn’t make it far before another of those creatures appears between them.

This time, the creature reacts animatedly and chitters at them before disappearing. Jiron glances back at James who shrugs. Turning back, he continues down the corridor.