The Burning Crusade: Mage World, #2

By Matti Silver

It has been eight hundred years since the Age of Discovery. The Alliance of Plainswalkers, Spectros and Terrans has thrived. With an expanding economy, it seems that the remaining Mage Nations may be swept up into a prosperous coalition ushering in a golden age.

In the Fiery South, the uncompromising Pyros have become secluded from the world. With sanctions against them from the Alliance, a staggering population and the ambitions of a cunning young prince threaten to lead them into a crusade against their neighbors.

• Language: English
• Publisher: eVw Press
• Release date: Mar 12, 2019
• ISBN: 9780995035157

Book preview

Chapter 1

The crowd cheered enthusiastically as the Terran champion emerged. His golden-trimmed armor glistened in the sunlight adding a greater brightness to his character. Settled in his right hand was a large war hammer which he rose naturally, calming the crowds. Three rows of Terran soldiers marched out to meet his advance. Equipped with steel forged spears, metal helmets and leather armor, they looked far less impressive than the champion opposing them. Breaking out of their close order formation, their numbers gave them the advantage against the lone champion.

The crowd began to stir as the promise of battle commenced. The champion remained unmoved, his short, cropped, dark hair matched his brown eyes which were kept in a strict forward gaze. The promise of an attack lingered as the soldiers carefully sized up their opponent. A profound stillness passed over the crowd and as the silence persisted, the champion waited. Some of the audience began loudly murmuring, not understanding the sudden slowdown, only to be hushed by the others surrounding them.

With an effortless grace, he spun the hammer, striking the ground. The soldiers before him dispersed in all directions as stalagmites rose from the earth, piercing the surface in a variety of angles. The crowd instantly resumed their cheering as the Terran soldiers destroyed and dodged the obstacles before them. The ground began to shift and bend as the soldiers continued their foray. At one point the stadium flooring arched to one side, rising above the soldiers, casting a shadow over them as well as a portion of the crowd. Large boulder-sized chunks of the rising floor broke off raining down upon the soldiers as the crowd cheered loudly.

At first, the Terran soldiers created small walls to repel the dropping rocks. Then, a large avalanche of rock came loose and sped towards them. They quickly assembled and as one they knelt, each with his right hand upon the ground, causing the earth to form a monstrous fist, to rise and break through the large fragments. Throughout the stadium, the crowd sprung to their feet in amazement at the ground-breaking display.

As the stadium floor gradually settled back into its original form, the soldiers turned their attention to the armored Terran in command. He lifted his hammer, inviting an attack. As they engaged, the crowds cheered at the exhibition of their battle maneuvers showing off their prowess. The stadium’s pitch elevated. The remaining soldiers were easily defeated and a trumpet sounded, indicating the end of the match.

OPHIR! OPHIR! OPHIR!

The crowd chanted loudly as many in attendance held up three fingers in a gesture of praise.

He raised his hammer victoriously and slowly exited the arena. Making his way through the entrance and into the lower levels, he met with the soldiers who had departed shortly after him.

Great job today, guys. This will be the last one for a while, so try to get along without me.

They all smiled as they removed their armor and donned more casual apparel. Ophir smoothly made his way out of the stadium and gathered his golden cape as he left. Emerging onto the busy streets of Nebat, the capital city of the Plainsland, he gently let the cape unfold and with one motion, flung the cape behind him where it rested onto his back. He felt the enhanced gold imbued in the cape fuse to his armor.

They put on a good show today, Ophir thought as he passed many onlookers who held up three fingers, smiling at his approach. He was always thankful for his fans, but the thrill of the fight had left him some time ago. He had been scaling back his appearances. Soon he would quit altogether. His responsibilities as a Terran noble had become more demanding and being on the council gave him less time for staged combat performances.

Ophir knew his retirement was coming. His duty was to his nation, clan and the Alliance. It wasn’t useful for a mage of his stature to be play fighting while real problems needed his attention.

Besides, he thought, I have to get married at some point. I have put that off for too long.

Ophir smiled at the idea of marriage and finally settling down. Looking up, he viewed the enormous palace of Nebat, the heart of the capital. He was pleased with his decision to quit. What was the point of constantly fighting fake battles when real ones were being neglected?

The palace doors were opened for him. As he entered the familiar fresh smells made his return even more welcoming. He let his breath leave him slowly a sigh of relief falling over his entire being.

This is where I belong…

Chapter 2

Ophir stood in the gigantic atrium of the palace. Of all the numerous rooms held within the building, the atrium was his favorite. The reason for this peculiar choice hung above the massive stairway: Cemented into the upper tier was a life-sized wood carving of all the original heroes during the Age of Discovery. The founders of the first Alliance. It was beautifully crafted and had been maintained in that exact location since he was a boy.

Victor in the center, Silvanus to his right… everyone loved Silvanus.

His eyes studied the marvelous craftsmanship. How lifelike they were. Next to Silvanus stood Ophir, his ancestor, the first Terran to breach the firmament and who helped preserve the Alliance that has lasted to this day. He and his ancestor shared the same name, or rather, Ophir had inherited the name, prestige and legacy. He was the third of his line to carry their great progenitor’s name.

The gathering and the tragedy that followed eight hundred years ago, yet still many of the effects linger, Ophir thought.

To a Terran of any class, tradition was everything. They carved the names of their forbearers on the stone walls in their home world. The children grew up memorizing their deeds and which stones, metals and minerals the clan favored. Any techniques or specialized disciplines were passed on. Even without the ancient threats, martial science was drilled into many of the youth. A Terran is born of the earth and the earth holds all of Mage World upon itself. It concealed vast treasures that are only uncovered by intense self-discipline and rigorous cultivation.

Lord Ophir, it’s a pleasure to see you! stated a Plainswalker, interrupting his thoughts. I heard the cheers from the stadium. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be over there? I promise, the palace is nowhere near as exciting.

Ophir smiled, relieved to see his friend. Actually Virgil, I think I’m taking a break for a while.

What?! Virgil exclaimed. How can you prefer a life of excitement and praise to this mind-numbing administration?

Ophir chuckled at the remark. Exciting? How much excitement would you get if you pretended to win battles against your kinsmen for weeks on end?

They both leisurely climbed the stairs with Virgil slightly in the lead.

Besides, Ophir continued, I hear things have been getting tense in the South Lands.

You’ve got that right, responded Virgil as they came up to a double door which an attendant opened upon their approach. I’ll have them announce you. Everyone’s going to be grateful that you’re back.

Yes, Ophir thought, we both are.

As was customary among high council meetings in the palace, the Terran noble was declared upon his entry of the chamber.

If it pleases the council, please rise for the ambassador from the Terran nation, Ophir the Third.

Chapter 3

Ophir took his seat next to the other Terran diplomats and nobles. They also wore distinctively-colored armor indicating their status and clan specialty. Most other mages would succumb to exhaustion clothed like this, Terrans were different. This gear was specifically engineered for mages who had attained a deep proficiency over the Terran abilities. Being close to their element was never a burden; it only heightened their senses and enhanced their prowess. For elder Terrans, the stone was their skin.

Ophir listened as the meeting continued. Talks about expanded trading with the Aerial nation and aiding the kingdom in the West was brought forward. The Aerial presence had guaranteed consistently abundant harvests due to their control of the air currents and weather patterns. Also of note in the West, off the shores, the Aqueous nation aided the emerging fleets, resulting in an increased catch.

Trade with these nations has only been comparable to the time of the first gathering, stated a Plainswalker diplomat. We have made proposals that both be invited to rejoin the Alliance.

This statement caused an excited response throughout the chamber. No mage nation had ever entertained the idea of rejoining the Alliance in hundreds of years. Its membership had remained exclusively between the Plainswalker, Spectro and Terran nations.

Lord Ophir, the Diplomat called out. Given your esteemed lineage and your favor with the citizens, we were all hoping that you would be the first to take on the appointment as ambassador and represent the Alliance and the crown.

Ophir’s heart stopped as he heard the announcement.

So, I leave my publicity behind me for a life of calm service and in the same day I’m chosen as a celebrity ambassador to continue the work of our greatest heroes.

Ophir could see Virgil, his Plainswalker friend, smiling and gesturing for Ophir to stand. Ophir knew now why Virgil was so joyful when they met up earlier. Rising slowly, he looked around the chamber, the sheer magnitude of his task and what it would mean for his world, should he succeed, yet, none of this troubled him. Ophir would never have dreamed that, in his lifetime, he would have an opportunity to match his great ancestor. With sadness, Ophir faced the chamber.

Brothers, as much as this is an honor, as a noble and clan head I have neglected my duties to home. My engagement has been postponed and after tonight, I will set off for my homeland. Not long after that, I will be married.

Disappointment passed throughout the room as a unanimous sigh lamented Ophir’s declaration. Many of the administrators looked downcast, while others turned to the heads of the council to intervene. As a commotion threatened to spread, Virgil had already left his seat and approached one of the Plainswalkers representing the Queen in order to stall for time before they made another choice. He began to whisper into the councilor’s ear when…

And if you would kindly grant me two weeks to set my affairs in order, Ophir continued, now with all eyes on him and all those present silencing, then I would gladly return with my wife and if the council should still think me worthy of this great endeavor, take residence in the West and continue with the task our ancestors left us.

The mages around the chamber rose and clapped, while others held up three fingers to demonstrate their approval. Ophir nodded to Virgil who pointed at him, smiling as he returned to his seat. The heads of the council called everyone to order, visibly pleased and once everyone was seated and everything had settled, brought their attention to a recently arrived Plainswalker standing by the entranceway.

Looks like he finally arrived, exclaimed one of the councilors.

Here enters Turin, of Engedi, formal ambassador to the South Lands.

Many of the Spectros diplomats greeted him with familiarity. He was well-dressed but his face was pale. He looked tired and it seemed he would pass out if struck by a swift wind.

How have talks with the Pyros been progressing? asked one of the head councilors.

There are no more talks, replied Turin, as he brushed his hand through his hair. They have expelled all foreign diplomats from their territories.

The room went silent as attendants were signaled to lower curtains over the windows. A Spectro among the council brought forth a small, jeweled ornament and used it to display a map over the table of the South Land’s massive Pyros urban center of Delshadoplois. Their city was not as esthetically pleasing as any in the Alliance. Instead of beautiful architecture or intricate construction, the Pyros had thousands of single level, square huts spread out into a circular pattern densely packed over the landscape.

The whole city looked overcrowded and as the Spectro took them on a visual tour, Turin gave a commentary.

The Pyros nation is segregated and completely over-populated. They have recently removed all connections to the Alliance and suspended trade indefinitely.

The room went quiet again. The councilors at the table’s head talked quietly among themselves before carrying on with their questions.

What would solve this problem most effectively, in your opinion, ambassador?

Honestly, Turin paused before he continued, carefully considering his words, they need more land. The South is too dense and they can’t burrow any further into the volcanic core. They need permanent residence for at least forty-five to eighty thousand mages.

The whole chamber burst into protest. This was not the first time that Pyros mages had been the focus of conflict. Throughout the years since the breakdown of the original Alliance there had been trading disputes and even skirmishes. Though these were normally solved with time and diplomacy, the situation at hand was becoming pressing and what was once a periodic irritation now looked more like a serious threat.

Where would we put them? In the West? You come from Engedi. You know how important the Western fields are to the city states of the Alliance. Over eighty percent of our food is now farmed in some form or another from your home regions. A concentration of Pyros would be a serious threat to our crops. They are practically made of fire. We know they adjust over time to their environment, but with thousands of them pouring into our cities without decontamination would be disastrous and create even more problems than what we already have, responded a counselor at the head of the chamber.

"Even a slight