Tag Archives: Tales of the Terrgat

Obstacles

[This story takes place between The Mage and The Shifter.]

“It is not working!” Cassie yelled, breaking the spell. She picked up one of the rune stones in front of her and threw it. It was part of a set Ice had given her to help her study the runes and get comfortable with them.

He looked at his pupil with a mixture of sympathy and irritation. “Do not throw them.”

She turned toward him. “I cannot feel them the way you said I would! There is no magic!”

It was an effort to stop himself from yelling back. “You are already familiar with the runes, you just need . . .”

“No, I am not!”

“Yes, you are. When we first met, you used some runes, do you remember?”

“When?”

“You put them on your parents’ pyre.”

“Those? They were just traditional symbols.”

“Do you know what they mean?”

“We just put them there so that the souls of the departed make it safely to the next world.”

“The first rune was protection. The second means journey. And the last one stands for joy. You already have a connection with . . .”

“I do not want to talk about this anymore.” She stood and ran from the room while tears streamed down her cheeks.

Ice picked up one of the stones and absentmindedly rubbed it between his fingers. He wanted to go after the girl, scold her for leaving, but he could almost hear Krina admonishing him not to, reminding him of his failures when he had taken her on as an apprentice.

Perhaps he was not meant to instruct others. The girl did have a natural talent for the runes, but the memory of her parents seemed to serve as an obstacle. There was something else, as well, some other power in her, the reason that the Terrgat had sought her in the first place. However, he had been unable to identify it. Perhaps that power, whatever it was, prevented her from touching the magic of the runes.

As much as he wanted to push her past these obstacles, the memory of his missteps with Krina gave him pause and undermined his own self-confidence. Maybe he should not teach Cassie. Yet, she needed some means to protect herself. If he could not teach her his magic, he needed to find a way to unlock her own power. If he did not, she would be vulnerable the next time the Terrgat came for her.

Trapped

With a practiced hand, he drew a large circle with chalk and inscribed several runes within it, two for strength, three for protection. It was not sufficient; it never was. But it was all there was time for. Taking his place inside, he mumbled a few syllables under his breath and the lines began to glow.

The door swung open with some force, and a man stepped through. “On your feet, mage!” It seemed obvious he had practiced that.

“No.” Ice allowed himself a tiny smile.

The Terrgat drew his sword. “Get up, or I will run you through right here.”

“You intend to do that anyway. I have no interest in making it easier for you.”

As if that had been the sign he was waiting for, the Terrgat thrust his sword towards Ice. It glanced off of the barrier he had erected.

“I have studied that medallion you wear. It protects against magic cast directly at you, but it does not let you circumvent barriers. You cannot touch me.”

After a few more swings, the Terrgat appeared to accept Ice’s claim. He sheathed his blade and glared at the mage. “So you are protected in there. But for how long? I will wait. You cannot escape.”

Ice said nothing; he simply watched the man pace about the room. The Terrgat had a point about being tramped, but his impatience was evident. How long would he be willing to wait for Ice to lower his barrier?

Only a few minutes went by before he spoke again. “Why delay this? Are you hoping to be rescued? By whom? End this now.”

“I think I will stay right here.” Ice decided to try to force the issue. “But it is rather warm in here. Perhaps you would be willing to open the window?”

“No, I…” He caught himself up short. “That is a good idea.” The Terrgat left the room and returned quickly with a lit log from the fire in the public room. He tossed it on the bed. “Perhaps you are safe from my sword. But if heat still bothers you, you may want to come out now.” He stood smirking, pleased with his own cleverness.

Ice smiled again. “Do you know me?”

“Just another mage that people need to be protected against.”

“Well, I suppose you are correct after a fashion, but I am not just any mage.”

The flames had gotten higher and begun to spread, engulfing the entire bed. The Terggat was beginning to look worried. “If you are not eager to be burned alive, you should come out now.”

“I will be fine. But I think your medallion will offer you little protection.” The room was fully ablaze now. Ice could tell that the heat was nearly unbearable; only his magic kept his small circle safe. Fire magic had always eluded him, but it was a simple matter to protect against mundane heat. “Perhaps you should go now.”

The Terrgat scowled at him, but the fire was already pushing him out of the room. His departure  was timely, for the room itself was beginning to come apart. With his would be captor gone, Ice cast a version of his heat ward that would travel with him.  While the Terrgat was explaining the situation to the owner and trying to clear out the inn, Ice was able to sneak out the window and into the night.

Alone in the Woods (part two)

After a day and a half, he finally stirred.  Rian had tended to his injury and waited.  It had been an anxious wait.

“You are awake.  Good.  How do you feel?”

“Confused.  Sore.”  He sounded groggy.

“That is not unexpected.  You have been asleep for at least two days.”

His hand shot up to his neck.  “Where is it?”

“Where is what?”

“My medallion.  It was around my neck.”

“What does it look like?”

He scoffed.  “You took it off.”

She feigned ignorance.  “I did no such thing.  Is it a family heirloom?  There was no medallion where I found you.”

He did not look convinced.

“So what happened to you?  I found you unconscious in the woods, but how did you get there?”

He stared at her intently.  “Do you really not know who I am?”

She was trying very hard to appear relaxed and unconcerned. Luckily false appearances were her speciality.  “I have never seen you before.  How should I know who you are?”

“And my clothes?  They mean nothing?”

“They are very nice.  Since you seem so concerned about this medallion, I assume you are from a wealthy family.  But I know little of such things.”

Doubt began to creep across his face.  Had he begun to believe that she might really not know anything about the Terrgat?  When he spoke next, he sounded less rough, more cordial toward his host.

“I had been riding.  Something must have startled my horse, and she threw me.  I assume I hit my head, and that is where you found me.  Perhaps I lost the medallion in the fall.  I apologize for accusing you.”

She waved her hand.  “It is alright.  I can take you back where I found you when you feel better.  We can look for it.  I saw no sign of your mount, however.”

“Thank you.”  His eyes closed and his head sank back into the pillow.

She needed to know more.  Was he in the woods because of her?  Did others know where he was?  In the end, did it matter?

She sat and watched him sleep.  What should she do?  Even if he was not looking for her before, he knew she was here now.  How long would it take to suspect her of being a mage?  Could she really be safe anymore?  If he were to disappear, would others come looking for him?  And is that something she could even do?  She had never killed before.

This Terrgat, he and his, had killed nearly everyone she had ever known.  If he found out who she was, he would certainly try to kill her.  But could she kill him to save herself?

Maybe she should just leave, go somewhere else.  Now that she had been found once, it could happen again.  It would be safer to quit this place.  But she was tired.  Too tired, she thought, to start again.  She would not run once more.

That decided it, then.  What she had to do.  He was defenseless; it would be a simple matter to stop his breathing.  A kinder death than he would give her, she was certain.

The shadows had grown long during her deliberation, and everything had taken on an orange hue in the late afternoon sun.  The Terrgat’s eyes were open once more and looking at her.

“Could I have something to drink?  I did not want to interrupt you, but I am very thirsty.”

“Oh, of course.  You need liquids to recover properly.”  She poured a glass of water from the pitcher and handed it to him.

“Thank you.  You have been very kind to me.”

“You are welcome.”  She smiled.  “I could not just leave you to die.”  As she said it, she knew it was true, and she could not bring herself to make it false.

Alone in the Woods (part one)

Rian was walking back to her small cabin from the village when she found him.  The woods around her home were inhabited only by small animals.  It was more than a day’s walk to the village and there was no road or other path, so she had never seen another person out here.  Yet it was the fact that he was wearing the green and black colors of the Terrgat that truly unnerved her.

Ever since she had had to flee from her last home, this day haunted her thoughts.  She had refused to form new ties because of it.  Only making trips to the village when she was desperate for supplies, no one there knew who she was or even where she lived.  Just another crazy hermit in the woods or the caves.  She had offered her services to no one, so there wasn’t anyone to depend upon her.  All of this was to make it easy to run again.  And running is precisely what she should do.  If there was one Terrgat – even if he was unconscious and perhaps injured – there would be more.

Despite all of that, she did not relish the idea of leaving.  Why was the Terrgat here?  She had been extremely careful; there was no reason for them to suspect her presence.  Maybe his presence was merely a coincidence.  Perhaps they weren’t looking for her.  Could she stay after all?

It was foolish, she knew.  Even if he was here by accident, she should not take the chance.  And yet the mystery intrigued her.  It was probably the isolation.  The ideal mage life of solitary study, unimpeded by social obligations, had never quite fit her.  Rian always enjoyed contact with others, cooperative endeavors.  These past several years spent almost entirely alone had worn her down.  Finding out why this Terrgat was here, and how he had gotten injured, excited her far more than it should.

She could see he was still breathing.  Getting closer, blood was evident on his brow, but it was not much.  He might have hit his head on a rock, but that still didn’t explain his presence.  If she wanted answers, she would need to ask him.  That meant bringing him back to her cabin where she could tend to his wound properly.

He was not a very large man, maybe not even as tall as she was, though it was difficult to tell while he was prone.  Still, she had no intention of carrying him.  The levitation spell was simple.  It would make him light enough to pull without much effort at all.  However, though it was one of the first spells she had learned, it would not work.  Only after several attempts did she remember the medallion, the Terrgat’s secret weapon against mages, making them immune to magic directed at them.  Secret, that is, until word spread about them after the catastrophe that brought down Cepheus’ kingdom.

She pulled the chain over his head and stared at the circular piece.  Gold, emerald, and onyx, just as it had been described to her.  Holding it made her feel a little dizzy.  The magic that normally infused her was silent, she realized after a moment.  Its absence seemed to unmoor her from the world, and she dropped the disk.  Having one of these, studying how it worked, was tempting.  But it frightened her as well.  She wished she could send it far away, but she had no means to do so.  She left it where it lay.

The levitation spell worked easily now, and she resumed her journey home, the unconscious Terrgat in tow.  It was almost certainly a mistake.  But it was also a chance at information she might never have again.  And anyway, life had gotten too boring.

Wholeness

Perhaps survival is my punishment.  When I set out to destroy Cepheus and his Terrgat, I expected to die as well.  Somehow, I was spared.  And now I must live with the fact that I devastated an entire city, an entire corner of the world.

The rune Sowelu, wholeness, stares up at me from my casting.  I had to face what I had done.  Own it as part of myself.  Only then could I be reconciled with myself.  Only then could I be whole.  But how to do that?

Everyone seemed to know that a mage – or, on some tellings, dozens of mages – had wreaked such terrible destruction.  I even heard my name whispered now and again.  Rather than save my comrades, I have confirmed all the suspicions planted by the king and his soldiers.  Mages were hated, and the Terrgat had the support of the people, more than ever.  They should have been finished, but those away from the capital now had the people’s sympathies.

All of this because of me.  And that accounting does not include the loss of life that I brought about with the ritual.  Was it grief that drove me?  Or vengeance?  Or maybe merely an overconfidence in my own ability to control and predict the forces I unleashed?

The temptation to wallow in my failure, even to swear off using magic ever again is great.  Though it would undo nothing, my conscience might be eased by such an empty gesture.  Sowelu warns against that course, however.

I am a mage.  Denying magic would mean denying part of myself.  Preventing wholeness.  Magic is but a tool, and one I have used carelessly.  But giving up the tool solves nothing.  Being more thoughtful on how the tool is used is what is called for here.

I cannot save this world from itself.  I know that now.  But I am not helpless, and my survival has made it clear that I am not done here.  I may need to learn how to live with myself, but I gain nothing from denying who I am.  I am a mage.  Now I need to find out what that might mean in this new situation I have brought about.

The End of Cepheus

“I must object to this, your majesty.”

“You have made your feelings quite clear, Sur Tipan.”

“He is a Mage.  Not to be trusted.  You should execute him before he can do any harm.”

The king looked at his Sur.  The man showed no indication of humor or irony.  “You are a Mage, Tipan.  Should I not execute you as well?”

The Sur’s face paled.  “Surely I have proven myself loyal.  I do not plot against you as the others have.  I even revealed to you information that has helped you against them.”

The king waved his hand in dismissal.  “Yes, yes.  You serve me well.  But this mage was discovered near the castle.  I will discover his intent.”

Tipan bowed, obviously eager to maintain his good standing.  “As you will, your majesty.”  He turned to the soldiers near the entrance of the throne room.  “Bring in the prisoner.”

Two Terrgat came through the door, a rather disheveled man between them.  He appeared to be  in his middle years, but looks were rarely to be trusted when mages were involved.  King Cepheus looked at his Sur, and wondered how old he really was.

“Well, Tipan, do you know him?”

Tipan had been studying the mage closely, but shook his head.  “I do not, your majesty.  Just another mage.  To be dealt with like all of the others.”

Cepheus nodded.  Every since elevating the man to Sur, he had been loyal.  Justified or not, he could not help but feeling suspicious.  But that was something to be considered at another time.  At this moment, however, he needed to deal with this unknown.  “Where did you find him?”

“Your majesty,” the Terrgat on his left bowed, “he was just outside the gate.  He was waiting there.  Perhaps hoping to ambush…”  He cut himself off.

The king nodded.  “What is your name, mage.”

As the king addressed him, he looked up, a startled expression on his face.  “Me?  You are talking to me?”

“Yes.”  Cepheus was already bored.  “Who else?”

“Ah.  Well, those who know me call me Ice.”

“What sort of name is that?”

“The name others have given me.”

His ire rising, Cepheus struggled to keep his voice in check.  “What is your real name?”

“Ah.  True, true.  That is not the name I was given at birth.  But it is the only name you will get.”

Tipan took a step forward.  “Terrgat, kill this man!”

The king immediately held up his hand.  “Sur Tipan!  You do not give orders here.  Do not forget yourself!”

“But your majesty…!”

“Enough!  Why are you so intent on silencing this mage?”

“I am not…”

“If I may, King Cepheus.”  The mage Ice had stepped forward.  “What the traitor is trying to do is warn you.”

“Warn me?  About what?”  As he spoke the king watched his Sur slump to the ground.  The guards fell, too.  Only he and the Terrgat remained upright.  “What is this?”

“That is me.”  Ice took another step forward.  “You will feel the effect soon.  I believe your slaughter men already are.”  Both Terrgat seemed to be straining to stay upright.  One of them turned and ran out of the room.  “Whatever you use to protect yourselves from magic will not last long.  All life in this castle will soon be snuffed out, fed into the vortex I have created in this room.  Do you not feel it?”

Cepheus did.  The medallion around his neck acted as anchor, but he was being pulled at from all sides.  The magic of the medallion was already having trouble keeping up with the assault.  “Tipan was right.  I should have killed you.”

“It would not make any difference.  The runes are inscribed on the walls of your castle.  I am merely the trigger.  Alive or dead, your reign ended the moment I was brought inside.”

He felt heavier in his chair..  “You will die, too.”

“I never intended to live.  You and your Terrgat have already taken everything.  I will be content to watch you die.”

“My family… The servants…”  He struggled to find something to reach the mage before he slipped away.

“They should have killed you before I had to.  They accepted you as king.  They have earned their fate.”

“Children…!”  The remaining Terrgat had already fallen.

“What concern have you shown for the children your men have killed?  I bring you the harvest you have sown.  Goodbye, King Cepheus.  May you rot.”

The world went dark.

*     *     *

As the king slumped down and stopped moving, Ice just stared.  It had worked.  Yet he needed to be certain.  He searched the body, but the only thing unusual was a medallion around the king’s neck.  As soon as he touched the disk, the runes on his arms went silent.  He pulled the chain off of the king’s neck.  Then he searched the Terrgat and pulled off his chain as well.

The runes protected him, but they should be reaching their limit.  Still, he felt no effects from the ritual.  He had accepted his own death as the price for putting an end to Cepheus, but perhaps he had been spared after all.  Placing the medallions in a pouch, he left the throne room and began making his way to the front gate.

As he turned down a hallway, he found a maid on the floor, the linens she had been carrying were strewn about.  More of the price he knew had to be paid, though it was difficult to remember that when it lay in front of him.  On his way, he found several more scenes like the first.  Each one struck him.  Each time he reminded himself of the horrors he had sought to prevent.

Every step he took, he expected to feel the pull and succumb to the ritual, but it did not happen.  Finally he made it outside the castle.  In the courtyard, he saw others collapsed, including animals.  A mother sat against a wall holding her young son.  He forced himself to keep moving.

Outside the gates, the scene did not get less disturbing.  Bushes and trees were dying.  The effect was spreading.  This was far more than he had expected.  He had researched the ritual for months, and spent more than a year preparing it.  Nothing suggested it would spread beyond the boundary of the runic circle.

He felt for the magic, and it was not hard to find.  It was a tremendous storm centered in the castle and spreading outward.  There was no hope of stopping it.  He had a better chance of halting the sun.  All he could hope to do was get beyond it, assuming it would not envelope the whole world.

Over the next few days, as he moved further south, the blight seemed to slow.  It was still moving, he knew, but he got ahead of it.  It would eventually stop, though he did not know how long the storm might last, nor how much damage would be done in the end.  Damage he had caused.  Cepheus was dead.  That was the main thing.  Few mages remained, but they would be free from the tyranny of the king.

Ice had no idea what to do now.  He had not expected to live.  Perhaps he could find an apprentice and rebuild.  For now, he needed to put even more distance between himself and the horror he had brought about.

The Tower’s Fall

The Tower fell in the middle of the night.  It was a coordinated attack from Cepheus’ Terrgat.  Though few thought the king’s crusade would reach this far, magic wards protected both the inside and outside of the building.  Somehow, the Terrgat shrugged them off.  The screams of apprentices and the curses of mages filled the night until, one by one, they were silenced.

In his inner chamber, Ice gathered what few things he could carry.  He heard a scream from the outer room as one of his physical traps caught a victim.  He silently thanked the runes for directing him to install such devices when he moved in last year.

His relative youth also gave him a suite of rooms closer to the ground.  Another reason to be thankful, as a series of secret panels led him outside.  Fires were lit at intervals surrounding the Tower.  Several Terrgat attended each one, looking for anyone who might flee.  This evening had been well-planned.

Nearby, the sound of whimpering caught his ear.  He moved carefully to investigate.  One of the apprentices – a younger one – was huddled against a wall.  Ice had yet to take an apprentice and couldn’t remember his name, but the boy recognized him.

“Master Ice!”

“Shh!  Quiet.  You will attract attention.”  Ice kept his own tone hushed.  “Where is your master?”

“The soldiers… She…”

“Never mind.  Get up. We need to leave.  Now.”

The boy nodded and stood.  He must have been an apprentice long enough to know to follow commands.  Ice chose a direction where the woods came closest to the Tower.  From where he stood, he could see three fires.

“Master Ice, magic does not work on them.”

“Yes.  But it still works on fire.”  Destroying heat – and the light it gave off – was one of the first things he learned.  A brief flash from a rune on his arm and all three fires were extinguished.  “Now.  Quickly.”

They ran toward the right, between the two sets of guards in that direction.  Confusion amongst the Terrgat allowed the mage to get past them to the tree line.  There, Ice stopped to catch his breath.

“Now… We must…” He cut himself off.  The boy was not with him.  Looking back, he saw that he had stumbled close to the Terrgat.  Before Ice could react, one of them struck him down with a sword.  There was nothing he could do.  And no time to mourn.  He turned back to the trees and made his way deeper into the woods.

He wished he could remember the boy’s name.

Of Gods and Mages

“Be quiet, or a mage will come for you!”  His eldest stopped fidgeting in his chair and turned pale.

His daughter, though, looked puzzled.  “Papa?  What is a mage?”

“Someone who uses magic against the King’s commands.  They are evil and punish children who misbehave.”  He aimed that last squarely at his eldest.

The girl, on the other hand, looked mystified.  “Why does the King not want them to use magic?”

She looked at him with expectant eyes.  His wife merely shrugged, refusing to participate.  He turned back to his daughter.  “The gods do not want any but their chosen to use magic.  The King enforces their will.”

“How does the King know what the gods want?”

“Because he is the King.”  The girl always asked a lot of questions, but this time was particularly exasperating.  Could she not understand the role of the King?

“Does the King talks to the gods?”

“I suppose so.”

“And they do not like magic?”

“Well, they do not like magic practiced by mages.”

“Why not?”

“Enough!  We do not question the commands of the gods!”  His wife’s disapproving look told him to control his temper.  “I am sorry for yelling.  But it is forbidden to question the will of the gods or their King.  We must accept what they say.  Do you understand?”

She nodded silently, obviously afraid to anger him again.

He sighed.  “Do not be afraid.  Behave, do as you are told, mind the gods, and nothing bad will happen.  Do you understand?”

She nodded again, a little more life in it this time.

“Good.  Now let us finish the meal.”

Not Home

Rian knew they were coming for her.  She had tried, in small ways, to help the village. Avoiding overt displays of magic, she provided salves and poultices that seemed to win her the affection of her new neighbors.

But the Terrgat had her scent.  They were coming for her, and the village would hand her over.  Her assistance was genuinely appreciated, she knew, but the Terrgat were feared.  And so, ultimately, was she.  They had to know she used magic.  Disguised as it was, they villagers were willing to pretend not to notice. But with the Terrgat coming, none of that mattered.

Despite her attempts to avoid being tied down, she had accumulated many things since coming here, and had even become attached to some of them.  Ignoring the danger, she had begun to lay down roots.  Deep enough to make leaving hard, but not deep enough to keep her safe. She only grabbed her book inside its case, a few coins she had on hand, and the pouch she had made for this eventuality.  All her tools would have to be abandoned.

Just before she opened the door to leave, there was a knock.  Her heart skipped a beat before she realized it was at the house next to hers.  It was nearly too late, but she left via the back door.

Unfortunately, one of the Terrgat had circled around behind the row of houses.  He spotted her immediately.

“You, there!”

She began to run.  There was no point in trying to talk her way out of this.

“Stop!”

She heard his heavy footsteps behind her.  Ducking between two of the houses, she saw a group of villagers on the street.  As they caught sight of her, one of them pointed.

“There she is!”

And that was it.  The village had turned on her.  She could wait no longer.  Drawing a small gem out of her pouch, she threw it down and stepped on it.  Instantly, a heavy, dense fog enveloped the area.  It would spread over half a mile from this point.  No one could see more than two feet in front of themselves.

She began to run again, thankful she had memorized her path.  Ducking between buildings several more times to confuse her pursuers, she trusted that memory.  However, someone had left a cellar door open that she didn’t see through the fog until it was too late.  Tripping, she landed heavily on the dirt floor of the cellar five feet below.

When she looked up, she saw a girl, maybe ten, in front of her.  Rian recognized her right away.  Her name was Mayn, and she had come to Rian for medicine to help her mother.  One scream from the girl, and the Terrgat would have her.  All of her hopes died here.

But Mayn smiled and placed her fingers against her lips.  The girl would not give her away?  The relief she felt was tempered by the sounds of pursuit getting louder.  It did not matter if the girl did not draw them to her; they would still find her.

Then she remembered her pouch.  She drew out another gem and quickly crushed it between her fingers. Then she threw the pieces out of the door.  An image of her sprang from them and began running away.  Soon, the sounds of pursuit receded after it.

Mayn walked over to Rian and hugged her.

“Thank you for my mother.  Now run.”

Rian squeezed her back and quickly stole away.

The Medallion

Kahle pulled his sword from the body of the dead mage.  He wiped it off using the mage’s robe before sheathing it.  Remembering his friend, he hurried over to the pile of ruble that had been parts of the wall and ceiling of the stone room.  The mage had collapsed part of his own house down upon Orond.  The process of moving the pieces of stone was slow and tiring.  The late spring day was cool, but Kahle was soon covered in sweat.

After fifteen minutes, or more, he uncovered an arm.  He scrambled to move more pieces, and soon had Orond’s head and torso uncovered.  Battered and bloody, his friend was nearly unrecognizable.  There could be no doubt about Orond’s death.  A large section of stone had crushed his legs and abdomen.  But Kahle did not want to believe it and struggled to move the piece pinning him.  His efforts were vain, however.  Kahle finally collapsed to the floor, exhausted and grief stricken.

Orond had been his childhood friend.  Both of their fathers had been members of the Terrgat and had hunted mages together.  When Orond became old enough, he inherited his father’s medallion and joined the mage-hunting order himself.  Kahle followed soon after.  This assignment was only their seventh together.  It was supposed to be easy.  A single mage, living alone in the woods.  The mage was dead, but it had cost Orond his life.

And now, he couldn’t even free Orond’s body and bring it back with him.  The sun was moving towards the horizon, and Kahle needed to get back.  The first priority was the medallion, even he knew that.  Carefully, he lifted Orond’s head and slipped the chain off his neck.

The mostly gold disk glinted in the later afternoon light.  The emerald green circle inset surrounding the black onyx flame glowed slightly.  Each medallion had been handed out by King Cepheus personally.  Since the King’s murder at the hands of a mage over a century ago, no new medallions could be made, the secret of them buried with the King in his northern castle.  Several had been lost over the years, so each was now carefully tracked.  Many lives would be spent to retrieve even one if necessary, thus it was essential to get this back safely.

He considered Orond one more time, promising to come back and retrieve him, when he noticed a hole in the floor.  At first, the splintered wood seemed to be just part of the wreckage.  But Orond’s outstretched hand was actually gripping the edge of a trap door.  Had he tried to escape the collapse?  Or had he been about to open it before the mage’s attack?  The battle was a blur in his mind, and he couldn’t be sure what Orond had been doing just before the ceiling fell.

Kahle bent down for a closer look.  At first, the trap door wouldn’t move.  The damage to the floor had shifted the boards so that it was stuck.  After a minute or two, Kahle managed to pry it open.  Past it was a ladder leading down into a cellar.  Some sort of light source was providing a small amount of illumination.

Without another Terrgat, it would be foolish to go down there.  And others would come to completely destroy the place.  But if there was someone down there, they could make off with forbidden materials before that happened.  It was his responsibility, so he climbed down.

The room was very dim, the light coming from around a door set in one wall.  Hand on his hilt, Kahle walked slowly over to the door.  Pushing it open with his foot, he saw a boy, no more than twelve, hastily stuffing items into a pack.  Both froze in surprise at the sight of the other.

Kahle recovered first.  “Who are you?”

The boy’s eyes were red and swollen, and he looked ready to break out in tears again at any moment.  He just stared at Kahle, apparently unwilling or unable to speak.

“Tell me who you are, boy.”

More staring.

A thought occurred to him.  “Are you the mage’s apprentice?”

The boy nodded.

Anger welled up in Kahle’s chest.  A mage had killed his friend.  And another mage – the apprentice of that other – stood before him.  His sword was halfway out of its sheath before he registered the fear in the boy’s eyes.  A frightened face that looked nothing like Orond but reminded him of his friend anyway.  He slammed the sword back home.  Confused, unsure of himself, Kahle sat down on a stool near the door of the room.

The apprentice should be taken back.  If he refused, he would meet the same fate as his master.  Kahle shouldn’t hesitate.  He should be relieved to exact more revenge on the mages.  But the boy seemed so helpless, so lost.  Kahle knew how he felt.  With Orond gone . . .  Orond.  His friend’s death.  Why did he hesitate?

The boy could have said no.  Then he could be let go, no questions.  It would have been careless to let him leave, but few would fault him, and then only if they found out.  Now, though…

The boy continued to stare, unmoving.  His terror, and perhaps sorrow, had gripped him tightly.

“Sit, boy.  Standing and staring like that is doing neither of us any good.  Relax.  We can talk.”

Slowly, the boy sat on a stool next to him, about ten feet from Kahle.  Still he said nothing.

“You understand that your master was violating the wishes of god and king.  He was wrong and needed to be punished.”

The boy gave no indication that he heard, much less understood.

“Your parents wronged you by apprenticing you to him.  Now we must determine how best to undo that wrong.  Is that clear?”

If it was, the boy showed no sign.  Kahle sighed.  The simplest thing to do would be to take him back and let the captain sort the boy out.  But would he come?  Perhaps he was too frightened to put up a struggle.  Or perhaps we has too frightened not to.

The terror on the boy’s face had completely drained away the last of Kahle’s anger.  Sighing once more, he stood.  There was only one thing to do, but he no longer had the heart or the stomach for it.  The boy had been caught up in this world.  Now he had a chance to leave it.

“Your master is dead.  I guess you probably know that.  Others will come.  Do not be here when they do.  Leave this behind.  Leave magic behind.  If you do not, you will share your master’s fate.  This is your chance, boy.  Take it.”  Kahle turned to leave.  He wanted to be gone from here.  To forget this place that had stolen his friend’s life.

“Dayon.”  The voice was unsteady, but it still had an edge of defiance to it.

Kahle turned back.  “What?”

“My name.  Dayon.  And my master’s name was Salvor.  And you killed him.  For what?  For your dead king?  I hope you rot with your friend, Terrgat.”

The boy raised his hand and muttered something.  Flame shot from his hand and struck Kahle right in the chest.  When the fire subsided, he smiled at the look of shock on the boy’s face.  His anger and grief had returned in force.

“How…?”

“Stupid boy.  You could have lived.  For a time, at least.  Your master knew that our medallions protect us from your forbidden magic.  Apparently he neglected to teach you that.  Or perhaps you were a poor student.”  Kahle closed  the distance between them quickly as he drew his sword.  He plunged the blade into the boy’s gut and twisted it.  The boy’s eyes were wide as Kahle shoved him off and wiped the blade on his jerkin.  He gasped for breath, but it was futile.  The wound was slow and fatal.

Orond was still dead.  This did not change that.  But it did quench his own anger a little.  Now he had to get his friend’s medallion back.  He left the boy, still trying to breathe, on the floor.