Chapter XL
The morning came early for Tezalant. With little light in the sky, the boy was rousted from bed. At first he groaned, but if it was not for the travel and the stress of the creature from yesterday he would have not had any issue waking up at this time. Normally by now he had even ate breakfast.
Not today, today he did want to sleep longer, and not have to continue his days travel. The groan that escaped his lips also commented to that point. Sleep was what the young one wanted, but it would not be what he would get. The young man was grabbed by the back of his shirt by The Doktor and roughly pulled to his feet. Tezalant moved to object, but the Doktor cut him off. “Don’t. We have two days of travel, and while I understand wanted to stay in the last bed you will sleep in for a small while, so let’s just get downstairs and pack up.”
Tezalant looked at The Doktor, trying to form the perfect sentence. Just how he was going to tell The Doktor what he though, and how to justify his point in such a way that he would not be able to be refuted. The young one opened his mouth, however nothing fell from his lips be a long mumbled sentence. He may have tried again on the point he wanted to so delicately and beautiful illustrated, but the standing form of Roilvn in the doorway stopped that.
“Well well well. I see he sleeps like a child as well doesn’t he? Be happy to be roused, it was not a joy everyone got to receive this morning. Now then, let’s get moving. We will be riding for most of the day as it is for the next two days, I would like to make it home before too awfully long. So up to it, we leave shorty aye?” Roilvn’s smile spread once again in its over exaggerated fashion. He nodded and turned turning and walking down the stairs towards the lower level. The Doktor laughed, leaving Tezalant in the room alone. The small boy slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he began to dress himself. As he finally left the room and stumbled down the stairs he saw Roilvn, The Doktor, and a man that he had not seen before. He could not tell where or what the man was, his skin was darker in color. Tezalant waved, walking down to the table. In front of the four of the men are a stack of bread, dried meats, a few separate fruits, and two casks of ale. A small scrawled note rested on the cask.
Dear Roilvn,
Stay safe and make sure you keep that human of yours alive. I know your kind do not think very highly of our kind, but give him a chance, if he surprised you once I would bet he would be able to surprise you more than just that one time. In the second Cask is for him, it is a native drink for Appan for him, and I am sure that he will be happy to receive it.
Your Friend,
Shoats
Roilvn laughed, smiling and handing the note to Usris. “Hey, your fellow mortal has taken a liking to you Usris. Get your own mission cask and everything!” Roilvn’s hand clap on the back of Usris, the two men feeling upbeat and joyous about this job. Both men laughing as the picked up their respective casks and start to walk out of the Inn.
Tezalant slowly packed his bag and checked his sword. He was ready for the day. Tired as he maybe, at least he had a horse to ride for the day. He knew that he could possibly sleep more this evening. Eh who was he kidding, he would be awake as the sun rose. He rubbed his eyes and opened the door for the Doktor. “After you, Good Doktor. Are you sure about these guards? Are they really needed?”
The Doktor nodded his head, letting the two hired men take the lead and laugh between themselves. “These men are the best in the world, if we wanted anyone to guard us, it needs to be these guys. And Roilvn seemed to be a pretty high value in the Inn. It looked as if he was possibly second or third in command. Plus, you were tired after that small fight the other day, and we will be fighting much more than just that in the near future. This is what will make sure that we can get those who are responsible for your family.”
Tezalant shook his head and watched his feet. Once again the two moved in silence, following the louder and bombastic group of men in front of them. It took a good five minutes of listening to the edge of conversation. Usris spoke of his home country, the pick trees and the smell he has never found. It was a beautiful sounding country. The waterfalls and hot natural springs was something that Tezalant could even fathom, natural hot water bubbling from the ground and collecting in pools to bath in. Tezalant wonder if he would ever make it to that distant land. He hoped and dreamed he would. He looked ahead at his two new care takers. They were going to be the last wall of defense in his life. People had come after his family, and he knew The Doktor was correct in his worry. He just wanted to get back to Fredrick. It was hi`s only real connection to his life that he so dearly missed. The fpur of them moved into the barn, and a hunched man with a scar across his cheek looked up towards Roilvn. “Lord, shall I fetch the Horses you returned with?”
Roilvn smiled and nodded. “Aye, as well as these two’s horses as well. The four of us are off for a little trip. Be off now Whisper.” Roilvn smiled, turning towards Tezalant and The Doktor, “We should head outside and get ready, he knew of our venture, and he should not be long. He has a way with the creatures of this world for some reason.” Roilvn smiled, his face being controlled and constricted to not show is blood, his lips being kept close just in case someone human happened to wonder by. The four of them walked in relative silence to the small clearing that made up the entrance as well as the exit from here heading south. And Roilvn was correct, it was not long before the sounds of horses could be seen marching into the clearing.
The air stood still for one moment, and the moment that Tezalant recognized the horses, the air left an area around him. A dust cloud shot off in all directions as Tezalant rocked forward, drawing his father’s sword, swiping downwards from head to toe on Roilvn. The only thing that saved Roilvn for a strike was the faster draw of Usris. The two swords met with a clang, Usris drawing back for a cross slash, a move that would have dropped Tezalant if the low pressure zone around Tezalant did not expand and life Usris off of the ground and carried him fifteen feet away. The Doktor was also tossed, however Roilvn drew his blade and turned to attack, the wind only sliding him back a few feet. “Leroy, James,”
The Doktor went to respond, but he could not move fast enough, as he landed the earth seemed to give a slight shudder, rising to meet him and keeping him on his feet. His eyes could only watch the chaos of the two people in front of him fighting. He did not know how to respond, it was already too late for Tezalant, Roilvn would have his head with only the want.
Usris had no idea what hit him. All he knew was that mid slash he left the ground and his ears seemed to have popped. As he picked his head off of the ground he hopped up, his feet falling under him. He shot up, scooping up his blade as he charged forward toward the young Tezalant.
Roilvn watched as Tezalant’s second attack came in, a slash across the mid. Roilvn unburied his sword and dropped, letting the blow run up his blade and over his head. He smiled standing up and delivering a sharp uppercut, turning and deflecting Usris coming attack, spinning and delivering a back heel across the unexciting swordsman’s face. Usris fell to the ground for the second time in this fight, his body almost bouncing from the spinning kick. “Enough, Tezalant, What is the meaning of this? I find it very unprofessional to attack me when we both-“ Tezalant had stood by this point, and had started to launch a series of cross slashes that Roilvn dodged fairly easily. Raising his blade to bounce away the off long chain before he finally crossed blades and drew close to Tezalant.
Tezalant was not ready for the sudden reverse of direction and he paid for it dearly. His eyes grew watery and his vision black as Roilvn thrust forward, delivering a mighty head-butt to the bridge of his nose. For a few second he felt weightless, his body traveling in the air before bouncing off the ground and tumbling to a stop. A cloud of dust sprung up from around him.
Roilvn took the time to collect himself. He turned his blade towards Usris, who was starting to stand. “Stay down Usris. If you get up again, I will not pull my blows again against you. I will not have you taint MY good name, is that clear?” He shook out his body as he started to walk towards Tezalant, who was still on the ground and grasping his nose, the color and smell of blood was flowing out of him. Roilvn’s mouth had spread from ear to ear once again. Winning was such a wonderful feeling. “Now, as I was saying, why attack me when it just can only end in a stale mate because we both know that I cannot kill you? And WHY are you attacking quite possibly the only thing keeping you alive from the rest of this world? I should kill you, you know that?” Roilvn stood over Tezalant, looking down with the smug look of a conquer. Tezalant’s eyes sharpened, much to the surprise of the daemon about him. Both hands shot out as a large force of wind came in towards them from all sides, a small cyclone starting to generate under Roilvn lifting him into the air.
But the blow that had he landed it against his brother, gave him nothing but fear. It was not that the blow did not land, Roilvn was sent about fifteen feet into the air about the bird of prey. His right hand grasps the hilt of his father’s sword as he spun, starting an upward sweeping blow as the wind died out.
Roilvn began to plummet back to the ground, watching the blow start out. This kid was good, possibly even great. He tried to remember the last person to play possum so well. It had been a long time. However Roilvn’s joy was well found. Unlike Tezalant, this was not his first time in a scrape. He watched The Doktor’s eyes go wide. Roilvn flung his sword down towards Tezalant handle first. There was a loud clash of metal on metal, the sword flinging off in a random direction, but the damage was done. He had successfully slowed Tezalant’s attack down the fraction of the second that was needed. Roilvn closed his hand as a sound of metal on metal was heard for a second time. His right hand reached out, catching the blade across a metal plate hidden under his glove.
The rest of the battle was simple gravity. Roilvn brought his forearm across the cheek of Tezalant, the force of the daemon slamming both men into the ground and causing yet another puff of dust. At first there was silence, and then, laughter. A deep filling laughter as Roilvn sat up and looked down at Tezalant. Maybe in a couple of decades this child may be able to get close to winning. But right now, Roilvn had spared his life, not the other way around. Roilvn stood and picked up the blade, his eyes growing wide as he inspected it. He recognized it. And why wouldn’t he. It was the hilt that gave it away. A soft grey stone, a ruby hilt, and a fine crafted blade. He leaned down, picking up the bloody Tezalant and dragging his form towards the four horse awaiting their riders. He dropped Tezalant as he began to speak to the disfigured horse keeper. “Whisper, Leave us, run off, and do not return until we leave, that clear? And speak to no one of this. Go get breakfast.”
The smaller hunched man nodded several times before he handed the reins to Roilvn and ran off. “Of course, as you wish.”
Usris stood slowly; he too was spitting blood from the kick that Roilvn had delivered. “Why does he live? He attacked you, he should be a dead man.”
The Doktor ran up and kneeled down next to the broken form of Tezalant. He began to check him over quickly searching for any broken bones or even fractures in his face. It was a testament to Roilvn’s skill as a fighter that he had not killed the boy in the fight. He looked up at Roilvn and slowly nodded, “While I am not one to object when things did turn out my way, but why did you save his live?”
Roilvn laughed while he handed the reins handing Tezalant’s and The Doktor’s horses to the Doktor as well as his own and Usris to his man that followed him. He turned and retrieved his own blade and returning it to his hip. “The reason his is not dead is because I am a creature of my word. He will live to see the end of his journey, just as it was promised in the contract. We will not kill him, regardless of the cost, because I swore a blood oath to you when I pressed my thumb to that page. You got me love me or not. But that is not to say the young man was wrong.” He smiled down at Tezalant before looking towards the Doktor. “But why did not you tell me this child was the Magus of the Sky’s servant?”
The Dokor looked up at Roilvn slowly, his hands slowly lifting off of Tezalant. “What are you-“
Roilvn held his hand up and shook his head, holding out Tezalant’s blade hilt first. “This is the Blade of Azthen of the Sky Clan. And he is his servant. That is a fact. You do not need to question or even debate. I am not angry, but this is an important note that I would like to have known sooner. Now I doubt that this fight will go completely unnoticed, and we are not running late because of it.” Roilvn smiled down at the man, scooping Tezalant up and tossing him over the horse before he walked towards Usris. He smiled as he grabbed his own reins from the man. “Happy to not be walking?”
The Doktor sat stunned, trying to gather his thoughts as he heard Roilvn comment to Usris. Finally, the words were able to form in The Doktor’s mouth, springing forward. “And how can you know all of this? Are you someone who keeps company with the Magus? Why should I believe you about the blade? There is no way you could know any of that.”
Roilvn laughed as he mounted his horse, sitting comfortably in the saddle of Leroy. “Of course I do.” He shook his head and looked over his shoulder, slowly riding away. “I killed Azthen and his children. Was nothing personal, a paying job is a paying job,” Roilvn took comfort in the Doktor’s shock. “And furthermore, Tezalant Figured it out, and tried to take revenge. Now lets get going, we haven’t got all day.”
The four of them pointed their horses towards the south. The Doktor secured a lead rope to his own horse and directing Tezalant’s body. He had stopped the bleeding, and he would have a hell of a headache when he woke up, but he would live he would survive, and they would press on.
That was all they could do.
Chapter XLI
Warmersis sat out under the hot sun of the desert. He wounded what else he could be doing, but waiting was all there was. Haizews had moved, the bird and the magi family that protected him where dead, to prevent anyone coming back and seeking revenge. He tossed his hands in the air, before placing them behind his head and laying back on the lawn of the Temple of Time. He looked up, viewing his home in an upside down perspective. He did love this home, it had served them well long before the city had formed around them.
He remembered as the first few men stumbled in and started to build around them. At first they had not expect the Magi to do much about them, but rather thought they would spread out about the world. But for every hundred that stayed out, there was the calling into this little city state that served the Temple. Life had gotten remarkably better for them as well. The small oasis that was the founding location had its charms, but it could never support the vast expanse of the garden that the Forest Magi’s that held it together. He sat up and looked about.
Where was that woman? How long did it take to count out a night’s wage? They should have had it all counted out beforehand. But then again foresight was not the power of his sister. Mythane had many talents as the manager of the Gods. He laughed and shook his head. “I wish I could have created it, but she is the only one who can produce high enough quality.” He slammed his large fist into the ground, looking around with tired Eyes. He had not finished his task he had been working on for the last week. Rest was not as important to their kind, and it was never even truly rest, however he did like to unwind as did all things. He stood, his right hand naturally falling to the hilt of his blade as he marched towards the large wood doors that made or the castles main entrance. It was a truly beautiful area before them, and it had be his home since The Great Daemon Wars.
He smiled, looking towards the sky. It was the last time he had a great deal of fun, an entire planet of monsters that they had to force underground. It was what allowed the mortals that worship them and grow to the level that they had over the last four thousand cycles. They had started as slaves and creatures held under boot for the sake of servitude and life.
Warmersis honestly had no option of the matter. He had only helped out the humans so that he could have a war to fight. That was the best part of his job. He commanded entire legions of Magi. Each unit of men specialized to a form of combat and offense. The attacks rippling down the line as the Daemons fell one by one. He stopped in the entranceway, placing his hands on the stone. It was odd, but it was one of the oldest things he could touch in this world. That and Hemell. He smiled and looked down at his hands. His soul was old, as old of this world, maybe older. But this body was less than a hundred years old. He knew he had the youngest of the bodies of the gods. Hemell had avoided ever loosing his original body to this day, and he had gone through great care to do so.
Warmersis had no need for such things. He rarely lived his body out to the fullest, and that rarely allowed him to reach much of any age. He was happy to just be strong. He moved through the hallways, eventually making it to the heavy iron door of Mythane’s room. He hammered his fist against the door, the report of the strikes sounding like a ram against a tower door.
For a few moments the air hung with the doors vibrations starting to finally quell. Then the foreign sound of gear works and springs could be heard inside of the door before it slowly swung open, revealing a small woman with olive skin coated in fine jewels and metals. Mythane looked up at the large black bearded man, a look of impatient in her eyes. Do you have any idea how hard it is to balance wealth?” She shook her head, her hands grabbing five bags of gold off of the table. She let out an audible grunt as she tossed them on the ground at the feet of Warmersis.
Warmersis stooped down, grabbing the five bags in one hand, holding them with relative ease. He shook his head and laugh. “I haven’t the slightest clue. Can you organize a group of men to do a job that will never be seen again, be paid and do exactly was we ask, while not implementing us? “
The Olive skin woman shook looking up at her brother. “I can find a simple mercenary you haughty fool. If you keep offing so much gold, the world will flood, making the base of wealth to collapse. If that happens the mortals will get restless, and then they go and try to kill themselves in some extraordinary fashion; specially within the Seven Kingdoms.” She marched right up to the giant in front of her, her hand being placed on her rapier. “Leave my room, your making the room sleep of blood.” She almost spat.
Warmersis smiled, tossing the bags the fifteen or so feet across the room and out the door. He reached his right hand up and grabbed an axe off his back, tossing it towards the door. The head of the axe buried in the door, causing the metal door to slam shut. He smiled and placed his hand on the blade. “Shall we see if you can even wield a blade half as well as me? Your pretty gems may keep you safe in the mortals, and you may be able to buy your way out of most situations. But I am not here for money.” He drew his blade, extending his arms wide as he looked down at the woman below him. “Come and strike the first blow.” The woman stood still for a long second before Warmersis dropped his blade and slammed both of his hands to the back of his neck, his hands clasped together. “Clever.”
Down Mythane’s leg the blade of the rapier had extended, burring itself into the ground, sliding along the ground between them, and finally popping up and thrusting quickly for the back of the gods neck. The point pushed in more, dropping the God to one knee. Mythane smiled and shook her head. “You have no idea.” He jeweled left arm shot out, the bracelets and rings that adorn her armor shift almost like water into a long single point, build into a solid forearm guard. She quickly drew the blade across the larger god’s throat, his neck starting to spill out before he peppered his chest with several blows. The God grabbed his chest as he fell forward onto the floor. “And as for the Delivery, don’t worry, I will make it happen.”
Mythane stepped over her brother’s dying body, the blade of her rapier having returned to normal, and the blade over her arm returning to a bloody forearm covered in rings and loops. He was acting like a rabid dog. Sometimes you had to put a dog in its place to make sure it stayed there.
Warmersis coughed as he smiled, the last of his energy flowing out of his body. He floated out, heading back to his birthplace, to be reborn the largest battle field of this day. His soul slowly seeped out, floating off to the Dragon’s Snout.
Mythane grabbed the large sacks of gold strapped them across her back, groaning to the additional weight as she once again walked out to the garden. She took her time, walking through the blossoming hedge maze. She knew that inside of here there would be the one she sought. The flowers always smelt sweeter around her. As she wondered the mage she heard the voice of the woman from the center. “Warmersis, why do you stalk my garden, you know if you ask,” The hedges opened, the route to the center no longer a maze. Raiowood sat green hair laced with flowers of all sorts and smells, every one of them in full bloom. He face seemed to go pale as she realized who she was looking at, “You will have the center open up to you… Are you okay Mythane? Did someone attack you?”
Mythane shook her head and raised her blood soaked arm. “Brother Warmersis was acting as his boorish self; he tried to goad me into combat.” Mythane smiled as she walked towards the center of the of the labyrinth, the hedges closing behind her as she approached. “So I gave in and gave him the battle he almost did not see coming. But in the end he fell. He will be reborn out in some great battle field and be back within the month.” She smiled as she reached the center of the circle. “But I need a ride to the men Warmersis hired. Could you call me a great eagle?”
Raiowood looked at her sister for a moment before extending an arm to her dear sister. She smiled, leading her out of the labyrinth, the hedges opening and closing around them as they moved. Raiowood looked up to the sky, he hand blocking the sun from her eyes. “Let us see what I can get you.” Suddenly Raiowood’s mouth and nose shifted, turning into a eagles beak. She gave out two loud screaks and looked towards Mythane, the sound of her voice changes, made more hollow without the surrounding jaw around the beak. “We will have to wait but good job on defeating Warmersis. That is not something we all could do.”
Mythane shrugged as she adjusted again for the awkward weight of the gold. “Well he was being an a**. I was working hard and he was being overly critical. And plus we all know how he-“ She was cut off as she was enveloped by as shadow. Her head shot up and she scanned the skies before realizing that it was the Great Eagle she had requested.
The bird landed with a gentle thud, leaning down and nuzzling Raiowood who returned the affection. She smiled as Mythane slowly and awkwardly got onto the eagle. It was clear she had not thought the whole thing though. Raiowood waved as she turned back towards her blossoming hedges. “Good luck Mythane, enjoy your time amongst the mortals.”
Chapter XLII
Tezalant’s first thought was how much his head was pounding. He groaned as he swayed side to side in the saddle he sat in. as he moved his body to yawn was when he realized his hands were tied in front of him. His eyes shot open and he looked around quickly. He felt relief at first, he saw the Doktor and began to relax. He then looked forward towards the ends of the two horses in front of him. He moved to draw his blade once again, but his hands being tied up around his saddle horn made that impossible. He attempted to pull his hands up, but all he could do was struggle against it.
“Ah, it awakes.” Tezalant looked up to see Roilvn slowly falling back to ride beside the young phoenix. “So, Mr Tezalant, How was your rest?”
Tezalant shifted his body to look at the Daemon that had captured him. His black eyes sharpened in the direction. “My head is pounding and you have bound me to my saddle. I am a captive after you killed my entire family. I would guess I am doing well.”
Roilvn shook his head and looked back at Tezalant. “See, the problem I have with that is very simple. These horses are Magi Horses, and not Chaos Magi. And you attacked me at the sight of them.” Roilvn reached out, grabbing Tezalant’s black pony tail. “And look at this. You wear the black hair of the magi, Traveling with another magi, and yet not only are you not magi, but you claim I killed your family? Kid, I have killed many people, but your family? I would remember your kind. You’re stronger than you should be, and your aura is not that of a creature I have seen. So how did I kill your family?”
Tezalant shook as he tried to fight his bonds and lunge at Roilvn. He was furious as he s**t at the daemon. “My father was Azthen, Magnus of the Sky Clan. You are riding two of the horses from my barn. Leroy and James.” He watched the daemon as he started to laugh.
“Kid, I hate to tell you this, but you know that you can’t be his kid. You ain’t a magi. There is abso-“ Roilvn and Usris were surprised by a high pitch three tone whistle. It was not the whistle but the horse’s response. All three of the horses from the magi barn arched their back and kicked, bucking in a quick and fairly controlled manner. Tezalant’s slammed forward, but he could counter his back, letting the horses rocking and wild movements ride out under him. The other two were not so lucky. Roilvn slammed forward, his face slamming into the back of the large horse before he rocked backwards and started to tumble through the air, landing on the ground with a sickening thud and a loud groaning sound. Usris was also thrown, but he had shifted his body so that the tossing motion was as controlled as possible, he landed on the side of the road, tumbling to a stop on all four.
Tezalant heeled the horse, turning it as he looked down at Roilvn. The four horses had stopped. Leroy and James stopped because their riders had left. Roilvn’s arm pressed into the ground, slowly starting to pull his form off of the ground. “Don’t you ever tell me who my father is. Azthen raised me from birth. Now unbind me so I may ride my horse.”
Roilvn coughed as he spit into the dirt, seeing if he had busted his mouth open on one of his teeth. Of course he was. He shook the cobwebs out of his head as a smile split his face from ear to ear. “You where the Chaos Magi! We thought you to be some worthless messenger boy. Wouldn’t you know it, but you got away due to that hair boy.” Roilvn shut his mouth and rolling his tongue along his teeth before spitting another large glob of blood. “Bring your wrist together, and unslip it around the horn. It is meant so that you can sleep on horseback without falling off, or for securing corpses. Looks better from afar.”
Usris placed his hand on the back of his blade, looking at Tezalant. “Why did the horses throw us? What is it that you did?” The mortal stood close to the horse, his long clothes hanging from his form, his black hair drawn back in a top knot. His dark brown eyes sharpened towards the young boy.
Tezalant smiled to have his hands free, patting Fredrick’s thick neck. “Ever tried to ride a great eagle?” Roilvn’s eyes seemed to follow back to the boy now that he had worked his form back into the saddle. Usris stood, not moving, waiting for the rest. “My brother was training to be a great eagle rider for the sky clan. It’s an elite position in our clan, the highest for non-magic users. But most people cannot take the lift off. We trained our horses to try to throw us on a whistle. That way our bodies are used to responding to that of our animals, and it’s easier for use to take off.” Tezalant smiled and laughed. “And it was a lot of fun to pull that on unsuspecting and over confident riders and thieves. All of these horses where trained by my brother’s and my father. You’re riding Azao’s horse Usris.” He turned and looked to Leroy, before looking up to Roilvn . “And that carried the mountain of my younger brother, Atzente.“
Roilvn tenderly touched his ribs as he winced. Grabbing the reigns and waiting for Usris to mount his horse before he nodded. “Forgive me then, Tezalant, Son of Azthen. But I got some bad news for you kid. You know that it was not some small time gang that ordered that mission correct?” Roilvn shook his head, heeling his horse to move forwards has he turned. “It was from the God of War himself.”
The Doktor finally spoke up, having chosen to watch this boy work out his own problems, as well as he was surprised how easily that he had caused the two men to go sailing into the air. He had wondered how much help he would be to the boy. But he had noticed that the child had a bit of fierceness to him. It was a calming thought. “We know this as well as much else. I am a former Histan, I have been known as the Doktor for many ages now. I heard of the plot from my assistant. I tried to save Azthen, but it would appear you got to them first.”
Roilvn nodded slowly, solemnly. “We did indeed. And for what it is worth your brother died well. Both of them on their feet like men, and your sister left this realm quick. I know it is not much, but it is all that I can give you at this moment sadly. I am just a man doing my job, much like I am right now. I hope you know it was not personal. It was a job I was paid for, and I am sorry that it was your fate to lose your family. But not it is my fate to keep you alive.” Roilvn let his smile cut across his face as he laughed out his last sentence. “So how do I keep you from killing yourself? What are you kid?”
Tezalant rocked back and forth with the swaying of the horse from side to side. “I am a phoenix. I am not sure how it is I die. I have died before.” He blinked his eyes. It seemed like so much longer than just a week ago. He wondered what else had happened since he left his home. “But thank you. for giving them a proper death.”
Roilvn chuckled and shook his head. “We could all ask for such a fate. Your brother was a brave man.”
Chapter XLIII
The cold air of the mountain’s normally crisp morning held still for as long as it could. The brief moments of stillness being broken up with the sound of hammer on chisel coming together to carve the large blocks of marble. Each hit breaking the air before the sound of a lone man exhaling loudly, blowing the fine dust off of the marble. Haizews looked at the five images in front of him. His hands where wrapped in crimson clothes, and blood had been dripping from his fingers for a while. He was pushing this body too hard. It was not used to this form of labor. The last time he had done something this through it had been nearly a dozen cycles ago. His calloused hands had grown softly.
Haizews’ face cracked a grin, spinning the hammer in his hand as he stepped back to look at his work. Warmersis was right. His hands had grown soft, he had been far too sheltered as a god. He wondered if he would go roaming again, it had been a long time since he had gotten lost on his home isle of Appan. He wondered what the progress had been, if the emperor still held the throne or if a new family had moved in. He looked at the detailed figures of Azao, Gielbra, Gimi, and Atzente. He had been working all night and he had almost finished the task. His hands screamed for a rest. They ached to be tended to. He looked down at the blood soaked rags and the drops that had fallen from his hand onto the stone at various points in his nights work. “Almost finished my friend, just need to finish up your face.” He walked to the almost complete face of Azthen. He grabbed the chisel that he needed for the fine lines in the old man’s cheeks and lips. He blew the dust off the statue, wiping the dust away, leaving streaks of crimson blood across the face of his old friend. He smiled and put tosses the hammer and chisel away, removing the belt and letting it fall to the ground before it disappeared as it had appeared. He lifted his hand to the side of Azthen’s face, placing his head against the statue. “You where the greatest Magnus that the Sky Clan had known. Your father would be proud, I am sorry my friend, I will miss all of you.”
The God turned and began to walk down the path as the morning sun broke on the village. He watched his hands flow with blood, but he was sure that now that he had stop constantly reopening the wounds that they would heal in a rather quick fashion. He marched into the village with his head held high. He should have known that his brother was going to go overboard in the order. He could have delivered it himself, but he was right. It had to look clean from the outside, and for Haizews that meant doing the next part of his job. It was not something he looked forward to. He had lead his entire flock astray, dude to one loose end. At least this was the last end. He should not have anything else to worry about for a very long time. As he got to the outskirts of the village the commotion started. The God of Heavens and Skies was here. He was going to speak. The bell sounded as more and more people rushed out to hear the voice of the great God.
The village opened up in the market area. It was a small village, only about five hundred magi lived in the town nearest to the Magnus. The market square and the village square was the same place. A town hall with a bell stood behind of them, but the God moved to the raised stage near the town hall. He looked slowly out at the faces of his Magi. All of them seemed so lost, confused. The town seemed in order, but it was only through them taking care of the day to day. The weather had luckily held, but each face in the crowd had the same emotions. Lost, forsaken, abandoned. The god felt a tinge of guilt. He wondered if for only the briefest seconds if he had made the right call. It struck him as odd. He had rarely had that feeling, but here as he looked at his children he had that feeling once more.
The God took one final deep breath, then began. “I have lost a dear child this week. And more so a dear dear friend.” He shook his head and looked over the crowd. “Azthen, wise and elder Magnus of the Sky Clan was cut down in his house. We have never had such a monstrosity happen here before, nor to someone so dearly loved and cared for. I cannot bring your leader back, I cannot even bring back one of the young ones, a fact that breaks my heart more than anything else. The fact the whole family was eliminated, we must figure out for the first time who will be the next in line for the Magnus of the Sky Clan. We will call all the great Magi of the Sky Clan to decide who will be the next Magnus to step forward and try to fill the shoes of the great Magi that we have lost. But Like the sun when it disappears at night, the next leader shall come as a rising sun, lighting our way to a brighter future!”
He listened as the people began to cheer. He had done his part, he had contented the magi clan for now. He wandered aimlessly towards the path way back to the old burnt out house. As he passed the final house and started up the path towards Azthen’s home a man in leather met him on the path. “That was some fancy word work.” Detevic spoke calmly. His eyes looking towards the guard.
Haizews turned and looked towards the village. “It was not enough. We lost a great magi, and a better friend. Any leads on the attack?”
Detevic tilted his head and shrugged. “No sadly. There was a commotion, but by the time we could respond they were gone. My men have been searching and we have been doing our best, and we are close” Detevic looked towards the god. “Where will you be off to, Lord Haizews?”
Haizews turned and continued his way towards the path. In all honestly he was not sure what was next, but he did know his last place he wished to travel. “I think I will be off to see the Tower one last time before I head back home.”
Chapter XLIV
The sun hung in the afternoon sky. Haizews held his hand up to block the sun as he looked up towards the tall tower of Azthen. He rubbed his sore bloody hands together as he slowly moved forward into the shadow of the great tower. He shook his head and he walked over and kneeled down at the circle of fire near the entrance of the tower. There was a short but hot fire on the outside of the tower. He placed his hand on the ground before turning and looking back up at the imposing tower of the fallen Magi. Haizews lowered his eyes to the ground, sighing heavily.
The God stood and walked to the heavy oak doors that held back the secrets of the Magus. He placed his palm on the cold wooden door and looked up to the top of the tower. It was not often that the God would find something to make himself feel so small. Behind the door there were the stores of knowledge. While Hemell may have been the god of what would come to be, Azthen was in a place of his own with history.
Haizews’ hand wrapped around the handle of the door, pulling the massive door out with relative ease for the size of the door. The air of the first level smelled thick. It had been days since the hall had been opened so that the air could be allowed to filter in and out of the massive halls. The smell of blood could still be smelt hanging stale in the air. He moved slowly, looking at the masses of had written books and scrolls. Many of the written texts where written in the Histan city state of the Temple City, others had been written by mortal hands, and even a fair few seemed to have been written by magi, dwarf or elven hands. He walked slowly, the beams of light pushing through stain glass window frames. He walked by the suits of armors, each from different areas, some full heavy plate others small patches of plates linked with chain mail. Then he found the pool of blood that must have leaked from Tezalant. He stooped down and ran his fingers across the brown dried blood of his fallen enemy. He looked up and saw the massive book shelves. He turned and began to walk around the loop, finding the stairway to the next level of the tower.
Haizews moved up the stairway, his own natural glow lighting the small darkened area of the stairway. The next level of the tower seemed to be that of an arena. Wooden blades had been spars, and even some shields and various other weapons. However most of the work would not have involved weapons. He looked around the cold stone room, the smell of sweat and blood filled the room. Haizews moves through the room, his hands up in a normal fighting stance. He moved quickly, right and left jabs seeming to be aimed at some nonexistent foe. The God smiled he dances across the room. Kicks and punches moved quicker, the attacks and blows frenzied. Suddenly a right hook and the air stand still. The god smiled as he blinked, realizing that his old enemy would never be there to make him realize the opening in his legs and knees. He had lost the fight so many times with this blow against Azthen.
Haizews dropped his hands, looking around the room. There had to be another level, but that was only if he was remembering correctly. He slowly walked around the room, running his fingers over the stone. He had bleed on this floor. He had both victory and defeat on this floor. He was going to miss his friend dearly. He wondered if he would enjoy the next one. He wondered how the other gods managed to constantly evolve to accept the other blood lines every time a Magus died, or sooner if the right clan. Not Haizews. He had been working with one family since day one of the magi. It had been four thousand years ago that he had created Azthen’s great grandfather. Since then he had dealt with only this family. He wondered who or how they would come about the next Magus. The Sky Clans had yet to have their Magus die without an heir. He smiled, looking at the curved stairway that was hidden behind a small optical illusion. He stopped, looking towards the room he had had so many memories of the family he had lost. He shook his head and slowly began his way up the stairs.
The third floor of the tower was an odd floor. It was a glass dome room. In the middle sat a desk. The God smiled at the rather simple layout of the room. It was his friend to the very letter. It was a clean, organized, and sparse room. It was a plain and simple room. Much of the fine arts and sculptures had been removed. He never was much like his father’s taste. However he did seem to keep his grandmother’s garden outside. Haizews moved for the door, opening it and stepping back into the natural cool mountain evening air. He wondered how long he had been inside, but the sun was throwing its last few flickers over the horizon. If he was anyone else he would have needed a torch to help him see and navigate. But in the low light Haizews’ body threw off a glow of warm natural sunlight around him. He moved through the rather well sized garden. He had always preferred to walk the Temple gardens at this time as well, he enjoyed watching the flowers turn and reach towards him.
He looked up at the sky and watched as the first stars began to break into the night’s sky. He smiled as he reached his hands up. His ever fiber and hair standing on end as he began to draw from the village near him. The magi’s had been created to help run the natural parts of the world, but they constantly had magic flowing from them, open for a flow for anyone who could harness and grasp it. Haizews ran his fingers through it as he drew on the night sky, stars being created so far away that not even he could grasp it truly. The small lights flicked into existence. The Old man stood, strong, staff in one hand, sword on the hip. That is what he saw when he looked at the new constellation above him. The final act was one he knew would not be a popular decision. He dropped his arms and wept, tears falling down the cheeks of the god. He sat down on the stone of the tower, and slowly breathed in, pushing his breath out of his body. The motion he repeated twice, however on the third time something much different happened.
The third breath out started much like the same, but there was a small son from behind of the breath. Fainter than a whisper at first the sound raised into the roar of thunder. His eyes flashed, the loud crack escaping his lips, and then the dark black clouds that began to quickly leave his mouth. The sky started to grow dark, thunder and lightning breaking the still spring night. And then came the cold rain, falling from the sky, heavy and loud. The roar of the rain was constant and unrelenting, only being dominated for mere seconds as lighting flashes and thunder roars command from the sky. Haizews sat in the cold rain, tears falling between his legs before he looked towards the sky, letting the cold rain land on his warm face.
Haizews looked at the sky for several minutes, the cold rain helping wash away his sins. He felt off balanced. He needed to be around and help out with the coming selection of the next Magus family. He wondered if it could wait, maybe one of the other village leaders will take up the mantle and fill the position. He did not know exactly what the future held. Only Hemell knew that. He said the coast was clear, and that the problem had been handled. He had never been a diviner or and oracle. Only Hemell and those touched by him could do that.
But that was not to say Haizews needed to be told his future. He finally stood, walking towards the edge of the tower. He looked around, shaking his head as he had to remember how to get home. Normally he would start the journey back in Appan. But that was not the point of this journey. He looked into the clean office of Azthen and smiled, looking over the edge. He threw out his arms and the wings of a great eagle appeared from his arms. He stepped off, falling ever so gently to the ground below, Landing with a soft splash in the mud and water. Suddenly his left hand reached out, his hand disappearing for a brief moment before reappearing with a heavy cloak.
Haizews stood, heavy cloak keeping the cold rain off of his body. He was going back home, he would be back on his journey to find himself, and understand why he, a God, could not have everything he wanted.
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