Vault of Power: The Unknown Region

By Philip Whitby

In a realm of magic and wonder, protected by the infamous Storm-Line, a civil war threatens to plunge the land back into darkness. But amidst the chaos, a glimmer of hope arises with the discovery of the mythical Vault of Power, a source of unbridled magical potential. But finding the Vault before the opposing Death-Hunters means crossing into the fabled Unknown Region, a place few mages have ever returned from.

Leading a quest into the most dangerous realm outside their own, a small detachment of the Guard make the voyage through the Storm-Line to face untold horrors. Among this group is a young mage who seeks adventure more than any of her creed. But even she isn’t ready to face the nightmares that follow.

Now their only hope to survive this harsh landscape and find their way home lies not in the magic that has shaped their civilization, but in the survivors of the world left in ruins. But can they be trusted with their lives, or are there secrets hiding under the surface that threaten everything they believe in?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Aug 12, 2019
• ISBN: 9781728389653

Book preview

PART 1

War

ONE

A lone man trudged up the grassy hill as the sun rose, the hood on his brown cloak up to hide his face. The sky slowly cleared as morning broke, illuminating whatever the light touched in a soft yellow glow. As he reached the peak of the hill, he glanced back at the path he took while it flourished in the morning light.

Pushing himself on the wooden staff, he pressed on across the plains.

For the early hours he kept moving, paying close attention to the sounds of his surroundings. Although he seemed wary, he moved with confidence and without fear of what lies ahead. As the day wore on, more of the scenery could be seen, including forests, fields and a small village or two in distance.

Eventually, he came across a set of ruins. It looked like they used to be an old outpost, demolished by a forgotten war, left to wither away from the face of the land. All that was left of the site now were three piles of rubble, a couple of walls half standing, and the crumbling frame of the main building. If you were planning to stage an ambush for a patrol coming across here, this would be the most ideal place. But there was no road passing through here so it was an unlikely place to strike.

That fact seemed to please the hooded man as he entered the area, weaving through the walls and rubble. But all the while he kept glancing in the direction of the main ruin. He could feel it.

He wasn’t alone.

Once he was in the centre of the once standing complex, he stopped and leaned on his staff, listening to his surroundings. For the first few seconds nothing could be heard but the slight wind whistling through the stones. Then the sound of a snapping twig echoed somewhere to his right. In the main building several small pebbles clattered down the aging steps, while a figure rushed past one of the windows on the first level.

The hooded man stood motionless, calmly listening as several other sounds could be heard from all around him. He adjusted his grip on his staff as he waited. Glancing to his left, he saw the sharp point of an arrow loaded into a crossbow aimed directly at him. Yet he remained calmly still as several more soldiers came out of hiding, displaying their shining blue and silver armour, many were armed with shields as they approached him. They all had the image of tower with the twin dragons flying around it, a crest known well across these lands.

And yet the hooded man remained silent as the soldiers surrounded him, bearing their swords and crossbows. The Captain of this squadron stepped in front of him and placed his hand on his belt. What be your path, commoner? he demanded, standing firmly in place.

No answer came from the hooded man. The captain looked at his comrades to ensure they were in place. If you don’t tell us your path or business, you’ll need to come with us.

Again, the man didn’t answer. Nor did he move.

The soldiers shifted slightly, somewhat unsure of the situation. But the captain remained calm, despite the anger that was starting to bubble inside him. State your business or come quietly he barked.

Still no reply.

The captain was getting agitated now, placing his hand over the weapon he knew he’d need. He’d performed this sort of routine many times with convoys and travellers. He knew if they didn’t cooperate, it meant trouble. He looked at his men, who were now sporting a mix of annoyed and wary expressions. Most cooperated so they didn’t usually need to interject.

Until now.

Looking back at the man, he ordered to his soldiers, Men, take him.

Half of the soldiers advanced towards the hooded figure, carful to keep their weapons trained on him. As they got closer they could hear a quiet, low grumbling sound. When it stopped, the man lifted his head so he was looking directly at the captain. The man’s face was slightly visible now, showing a calm expression, piercing eyes and a slight smile. The captain stared back at him, staring right into his eyes. As the soldiers got closer, the man’s smile widened into a sneer.

The captain’s eyes widened in shock as he realised what he was. He yelled to his men, Get back!

Too late.

The figure raised his staff and slammed it on the ground, which shook at the impact, causing rubble to fall from the ruins. At the same time, the soldiers froze in surprise. A split second later a shockwave erupted, blowing all the soldiers around him about five metres into the air.

The hooded man remained where he was, surveying the scene as several soldiers lay far from him. As far as he could see they had all landed heavily on walls or piles of rocks, breaking their necks or cracking skulls open. It appeared no one survived.

He started forward again, away from the mess he’d created. But as he passed a stone wall roughly his height he heard the swish of something slicing through the air behind him. Quick as a flash he moved his head to one side, narrowly dodging the arrow as it struck the wall, a flash of sparks exploding on impact.

The man looked at what was left of the arrow, then slowly looked back at its source. One of the archers was still alive in the ruin building, reloading his crossbow behind a wall on the first floor. He saw a second archer behind another wall on the same floor. As he began to turn around another tell- tale sound came from his left, revealing yet another soldier, one who hadn’t hit a solid object when the shockwave erupted. He was advancing on the man with his shield raised. Another survivor came from behind another wall, pointing his weapon at him, a single piece of wood about thirty centimetres long.

The man just smiled. He wondered when a real fight would begin.

The soldier flicked his stick in the man’s direction. He instantly dived to the left behind a low pile of rubble, just before a small explosion of sparks exploded behind him. Crouching down, he began muttering some more words like the one that created the shockwave. When he finished he stood up and pointed his staff, firing a surge of energy at the advancing soldier. It struck him in the centre of his chest, launching him back several feet before landing on the ground in a smoking heap. The other soldier looked at his fallen comrade, then began backing away from the hooded man.

He turned to the soldier, pointing his staff in his direction and challenged him, Draw your wand!

The soldier considered the challenge, his hand hovering over the weapon by his side. But then he glanced in the direction of the ruined building. The man realised what was coming. He sprinted forward just as an arrow shot from the building and struck the ground where he once stood, sending another burst of sparks and dirt into the air.

He kept moving, weaving through the ruins as a few more arrows flew around him. When he looked across he saw the other man had drawn his wand and was also firing shots of energy at him over his shield. He spoke a single word and sent a blast at him, striking harmlessly against the enchanted metal.

The soldier kept firing and the arrows kept coming, but the figure wasn’t afraid. He was confident they couldn’t beat him. When the latest arrow struck the ground next to his feet, he stopped and turned towards the archers, muttering once again.

One of the archers shot at him. Holding the staff with both hands, he held it in front of him and blocked it. The arrow bounced off it at full speed and struck the soldier’s shield, sending a surge of electrical energy through the metal and into the flesh, stunning him instantly. With another sharp spell he fired another blast, and the soldier collapsed lifelessly.

He turned and deflected another arrow as he faced the final archers. They paused to steady their aim. He took the opportunity to calmly mutter a lengthy sentence as he slowly raised his staff above the ground, then struck it down when he stopped talking. A huge surge of energy flowed through the staff, into the ground, across the space between him and the building and engulfed the ruins in an explosion of fire. The two archers screamed as they were burned alive, falling silent after about a minute of having their flesh melted off their bones.

The hooded man watched as the ruin went up in smoke, charred meat and barbeque scent filling his nostrils, before turning away back onto the path he was walking. After a couple of steps he heard someone walk up behind him. He turned to see the captain of the ambush standing there with his wand at his side. They stood quietly, motionless, facing each other. The captain was breathing heavily, winded from the landing he took from the shockwave. When he finally spoke, his voice was raspy and low. Surrender!

The hooded man looked around at the fallen soldiers around them. To what army? he asked sincerely.

The captain looked around then sighed, trying to keep his composure. Why are you here?

The hooded man smiled. This war cannot last forever he said confidently. One side will have to defeat the other. That time will soon be upon us. We will be victorious.

What makes you so sure? the captain challenged. You’re deserters! Traitors! What makes you think that you can beat our order?

The man’s smile widened. Because I can open the Vault. I hold the key that will decide the outcome of the war. When the time comes, we will have the power to overthrow your council, your King. And then all of the land will fall by our hands. Then he fixed a cold stare at the captain. And no-one in your kingdom can stop us.

The captain stared back at the man, bewildered. The kingdom spans over the entire Realm. You can’t hope to win.

The man grinned. We will. The Oracle has foreseen it. No-one of this world can stop us.

The captain took a step back in shock. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. If the Oracle had truly stated this prophecy, then no-one stood a chance. He raised his wand and pointed it at the man, unsure if he would actually succeed in striking him. You lie! he yelled at him defiantly.

The man looked at him sadly, then started muttering a sentence that would end the captain’s life. The soldier was in too much shock to stop him. He stared blankly at the man while he worked his magic, awaiting the end.

Out of nowhere a sound penetrated the hopeless silence, followed by the sound of something solid sinking into flesh, and the hooded man staggered backwards clutching his side. Blood leaked over his hand as he clutched an arrow shaft that had pierced his body, struggling to remove it. The captain looked back to see a fallen archer, his lieutenant, pass out on the ground. He’d used his remaining strength to ensure the man didn’t leave alive. The captain smiled, admiring his determination.

But then he turned back to see the man speaking another set of words. As the words fell from his mouth, the wind picked up and loose dirt and rubble started to billow around him, creating a tornado around his feet. The captain screamed a curse. NO!

He rushed toward the man but wasn’t fast enough. A massive burst of wind blew him back as a flash of light engulfed the mage at the centre.

When the light faded, the wind died down and the captain was left standing in the middle of the ruins, surrounded by the bodies of the dead, staring at the empty space where the hooded man once stood.

TWO

T heir footsteps echoed across the hallway as the soldiers marched towards the great hall. The two scouts who had found the captain were helping support him after his encounter with the assailant, while the General led in front.

It was only five minutes ago the scouts had brought the wounded man to him and told him of the confrontation. After that they were making swift haste to the main hall, bypassing everyone as they glanced at them with startled expressions. The hallways they passed all looked the same, with very high ceilings and decorated walls, on which hung dozens of pictures of the past history and important people. Several other hallways branched away from it while several varyingly styled doors were stationed in the walls. Eventually they came to the biggest set of doors at the end of the hallway. These filled the entire passage, floor to ceiling, wall to wall, with four Citadel security guards stationed in front of them. The double doors were decorated with black hinges and grey swirl patterns, all of which shimmered with fluid light.

As he approached, the General backed a command at the guards. They turned to face each other, their backs to the walls either side of the doors, two a side. They all raised the metal staffs and slammed them in unison onto the stone floor with an echoing clang. As the echo vanished, the patterns on the doors began to adjust their positions and move across the door, the shimmering light fading from existence as the mechanisms unlocked the door. When they’d finished the doors swung inwards revealing the great hall.

It was the second biggest room in the whole building, after the main entrance hall, displaying many of the Order’s past events. The hunt for the Haze dragon, the battle on the mountain range, the rise of the council of Elders. The hall was shaped with a dome as the ceiling, the room curving around in a giant circle, rows of seats lining halve the room to the right, with another set of doors splitting the collection of seats down the middle. Opposite these seats, three highly decorated chairs stood facing the centre. Those seats were empty, but there was a number of other people in conversation at the centre of the hall. They stopped their conversation and looked up to the entrance as the general marched in with the scouts and captain following behind.

One of them stepped forward to confront him. What is the meaning of this General Hanson? Were you not told we were not to be disturbed?

The general bowed. Forgive the intrusion Chairman. But certain events have unfolded and I believed it a case of absolute importance.

The chairman looked past him to the scouts holding the captain, studying them with sudden concern. Where was he found? he asked them.

In the ruins of the Vess outpost, out on the plains. one of the scouts reported. He was the only one alive.

Hanson quietly added He claims he was attacked by a Spell-Caster. The chairman stared at him, eyes widening. Death-Hunters?

I suspect so.

The chairman glanced at the councillors gathered behind him, who all now appeared as worried as he did. He nodded at the general. Absolute importance indeed. he said slowly. Okay. I’ll call the meeting.

It took an hour for all the council members to arrive and get seated. Hanson stood with his men at the side near the main door, the captain slumped in a chair. He was surprised they were all able to convene on such short notice. The council consisted of representatives from all across the Realm, from the central districts to the Dust Region, a gloomy place on the outskirts. This council made the Sacred Order of Mages, wielders of magic who influence the entire land, keeping the law and maintaining peace, despite their current situation.

The last to arrive were the three Elders, the leaders of the Order. Though the Chairman was the head of the council, the Elders had the greater control over the Realm. They decided what happens within the Order. One member of the Elders, however, had the greatest responsibility of the order; the High-Lord, official ruler of the Realm.

The three of them sat at the head of the hall, overseeing the entire council; High-Lord in the middle with the other two Elders either side of him. When they were all accounted for, the meeting began. The Chairman stood before the Elders and the council. Welcome representatives of the council and Elder mages. Please forgive my abrupt summons.

Not at all, Chairman the Elder right of the High-Lord replied. I’m sure none of us was in the middle of something of high importance.

This is better than listening to complaints! one of the representatives announced. Many citizens on the Star plains are getting worried. Most of the battles that have taken place just outside their lands have spooked the wildlife. They fear other skirmishes may affect the farms and resources growing there.

Another representative stood. The miners in the tunnels under Mount-Ester are encountering problems as well. With the vast quantities of weapons and potions needed, the resources required are becoming harder to excavate.

And my general has informed me of events taking place outside Quondam a third informed. More people have fallen under the influence of those traitors.

The council muttered in agreement, before the Elder on the left stated, We understand your concern. This war is exhausting us. We can’t afford to keep fighting, otherwise we won’t have anything left to fight with. We need to end this conflict swiftly.

The council nodded in agreement, while a representative shouted, We a plan of action! We need to vanquish our enemy!

How? asked another. How do you propose we go about doing that?

I think we should seek out their base of operations and strike them from within.

I fear that may not be possible another answered gravely. A battalion of forces from Ardias encountered a fortification used by some Death-Hunters. They managed to drive them away, but it looked more like an outpost then a base.

What’s your point? he challenged.

My point is, the Death Hunters may not have a set headquarters, but plan their moves from various field bases. Your plan the strike them from within may be more complicated than you think. After the years we’ve been fighting, don’t you think we’d have found their hideout by now?

Other members thought this over, before agreeing on the problem. So how do we end this war? the first man asked.

Now the High-Lord spoke. Calm yourselves. Before you launch into another discussion about defeating the enemy, let’s work out the reason as to why we’re here before our next scheduled meeting. Everyone in the council looked to the Chairman, who was still standing patiently for his turn to speak. You brought us together because of absolute importance, did you not?

I did, my lord he calmly replied. Gesturing to Hanson and his scouts sitting at the side of the hall, he addressed the entire council. Earlier today, General Hanson informed me that two of his scouts had come across something in the plains. Or rather…someone. The Council members were focused completely on the Chairman. He had their full attention. They found a soldier he continued. One of our own. He wasn’t seriously injured, but he was still in shock. He was the captain of the squad that was patrolling the region.

The High-Lord sat forward. What happened?

The Chairman looked to the captain, who had risen from his seat to stand beside Hanson. I think he’d want to tell you himself Elders.

He stepped aside to allow the captain to stand before the council. The Elders looked at the soldier, closely noting his condition. Captain Von Hugh they greeted him.

Von looked at them, one by one. Elder Karen. Elder Ramous. High-Lord Bureau. He took a couple of breathes to steady his strength.

Elder Karen looked down patiently. A lean man with a narrow jawline, he was the kindest of the three Elders. He’d spent years serving at the head of the realm, earning the respect of both those who served him and the people he protects. His compassion is greatly renowned, matched hugely with his skill with the power he wields. He didn’t display it today, but he was never far from his enchanted staff, a weapon he crafted himself with the ability to shrink into a handy wand for easy concealment. As he looked down at the man before him, all Hanson could see was the concern and sorrow this war had thrust upon him. He took the consequences of this war very seriously. You may report when ready, Captain he said softly.

Von took another slow breath before beginning. Several hours ago, at the ruins of the Vess outpost in the plains, my squad encountered a hooded figure advancing over the terrain. We ambushed him at the ruins, but failed to detain him. He killed the rest of my squad in a matter of minutes.

The council members showed signs of disbelief at the Captain’s statement. One representative stood and asked How could one man kill all your men?

The captain looked to each member in turn, then answered quietly. Spells. He was a Spell-Caster.

There was a moment of silence before the council erupted into a volley of arguments. Many voted for launching a counter attack immediately while others just voiced their views on the Spell-Caster race. General Hanson stood silently against the wall while he listened to the raised voices. This wasn’t going to end well. He’d seen enough meetings to understand when a simple difference of opinions was going to turn into an all-out brawl. Someone needed to regain control.

As if on cue, Ramous barked a command as he slammed his staff on the raised platform his seat was stationed on, creating an earth-shaking BANG that echoed across the hall. Within a second, everyone was looking at him, as silent as the dead. Easily recognisable by his long hair and trimmed beard, Ramous is one of the oldest members of the Elder council. He’s the wise historian who played the long game, seeking solutions to situation on a larger scale. But he was also one of the most respected mages because treated everyone with the respect he knew they deserved, despite their rank. If he saw you as unworthy, then there was a good chance he was right. A fierce leader and powerful mage, he was not a man to trifle with. Which is why as soon as he started talking, everyone started listening.

He raised his voice to make his words clear. I understand your concern about this unpredicted event and your fear of what it could mean. But now is not the time to begin fighting amongst ourselves.

All the council members silently sat back into their seats and fell silent. Bureau took this opportunity to speak. Fundamentally the youngest of the trio, Bureau hadn’t held the position of High-Lord for very long. In fact it was a recent promotion that became necessary thanks to the war with the Death- Hunters. Ordinarily, the Realm is governed under the leadership of the High-King, the supreme ruler. However, events have forced him to leave on urgent business. Bureau was appointed High-Lord personally in his absence, keeping the seat warm as it were. Nevertheless, he rose to the challenge and proved himself a loyal and valued leader in these troubling times. This is disturbing news. The fact that the Death-Hunters seem to be this close to the Citadel is troubling. But never-the-less, I’d like to know what the Spell-Caster was doing there, or what his intentions were, just as much as you do.

He’s just like all the others of his kind. one member mumbled. A deceiving bunch of potion brewers that can’t be trusted.

Ramous stared at the council member with a cold glare, which made him shift uncomfortably in his seat. In the future, he grumbled slowly, keep in mind that you’re in the presence of one of those kind. The councillor looked away from the Elder’s glare and remained silent. Ramous was a strong and very intelligent Spell-Caster. His kind were rarely chosen as Elders of the Council, but he was a gifted mage. He never forgot the reputation fellow Casters had received, and so vowed to fix those bridges.

So the Caster got away? one of the councillors asked.

He must have, but not unscathed Karen deduced. Good or bad, Casters aren’t messy. If they have a goal that needs to be done without our knowing, they wouldn’t leave a messenger to alert us. He glanced to his fellow Elder, who gave a slight nod in agreement.

Bureau continued. If the captain was the only survivor now talking directly at him, then presumably, you fought him off?

The captain looked down at his feet. Not personally, sir he replied. One of my men got a shot at him before he died. After that, the Caster fled.

Bureau nodded at this answer. My condolences for the death of those men. He addressed the council. We will discuss the implications of this encounter at a later date. Are there any other issues that need to be resolved at this time?

After a moments silence, the Chairman stepped forward. Then we can consider everything we’ve heard and decide the next course of action at the next scheduled meeting!

While the representatives were leaving, Hanson stopped Karen on his way out. Few members of the Realm’s Guard would dare confront an Elder in such a manner, but Hanson had served the Citadel nearly all his life and had earned their respect long ago. And Karen always treated his subjects as equals. Elder. I’ll need to speak to you and the other Elders privately.

Karen looked into his eyes and understood that something else happened on those plains that the council should not yet hear. Very well. Come with us to the High-Lord’s quarters.

***

High-Lord Bureau’s quarters were large in comparison with the other living areas across the Citadel. It consisted of a wash room, sleeping quarters, and a large circular office containing a few desks cluttered with maps, books and various other instruments. Bureau was seated at the largest desk looking through one of the books when Karen walked in with Hanson and Von Hugh behind him. As he looked up he leaned back in his chair. I didn’t think that was all of it he sighed.

Ramous, who was standing next to him, wasn’t surprised either. What did you forget to tell us Captain? he asked.

Captain Hugh took a quick breath before speaking. Before the Caster fled, he spoke to me.

Bureau suddenly became interested, leaning forward in his seat. What did he say? he asked intently.

He said they had a way to destroy the Order. That he had the key to ending the war.

Everyone fell silent for a few moments. Eventually, Ramous said This complicates things. Are you sure that’s what he said?

He said it before my man got his shot off. At that time it seemed he’d won.

It looks like the Death-Hunters have a secret weapon they’re waiting to test Hanson said. I’d been getting scattered reports across the Realm of what appears to be coordinated activity, as if they’re planning something. We need to find out what it is and how to stop it.

The Elders nodded in agreement, just as another mage walked into the room. He was cloaked in green robes, carrying several scrolls. As he walked in, everyone looked in his direction. It’s unlike me to get this much attention he joked.

Bureau sighed. Matrious, do you have a good reason for interrupting this conversation? Matrious placed the scrolls on one of the other desks. Pleads, demands, complaints, all from the Sentra Region. There’s been a recent attack on one of the settlements. He looked at the Captain, then softened his tone. I heard about the attack at the outpost. I’m sorry about your men.

They were good men he said slowly.

Karen looked back at him. Did the Caster say anything else?

Hugh closed his eyes as he tried to remember. Hanson looked up sharply, an idea suddenly occurring to him. He turned to Matrious and asked him From the view of another Spell-Caster, wouldn’t you most likely teleport out of battle if you’re about to die?

He looked at the General with a slight smile. You’re asking me if I would use a teleportation spell to run if I was the Caster on the plains, aren’t you?

The General raised an eyebrow.

The old man chuckled. I think Elder Ramous would agree with me when I tell you that any Spell- Caster would do just that. Matrious replied. It gives us breathing room to attempt any medical aid. More often to keep whatever precious items we carry from falling into the wrong hands.

Karen stared at him. Can you track where he teleported to?

He crossed his arms. I feel slightly insulted if you have to ask that.

That’s a yes Ramous answered for him. Hanson smiled. Matrious was one of his oldest friends, and one of the smartest he knew. There wasn’t a spell in existence he didn’t know about. If you wanted knowledge, he was the man to ask. And if you wanted a means to counter another Spell-Caster or Enchanter, he could come up with something.

Bureau stood up and walked over to the elderly Spell-Caster. Very well. I need you to go to the plains and try to locate where this assailant went. When you have an accurate location, report back.

How accurate do you want?

As accurate as you can get. Go! Now!

Matrious turned to leave, but only got as far as the door before the Captain suddenly told them He said the Oracle had foreseen it!

Everything went quiet, like someone had thrown a switch. No-one said a word. Eventually Hanson broke the silence. What did you say?

Hugh looked at him like he’d remembered a traumatic event. He told me the Oracle had foreseen it.

Ramous exploded. That has to be a lie! How could the Death-Hunters get an audience with the Oracle? They’d have to infiltrate our defences.

It wouldn’t be the first time Hanson pointed out. They’d gotten past the guards at the armoury in the Utah outpost few years before. It resulted in the destruction of whole station. They’d heightened security since then, but nothing’s perfect.

There’s only one way to settle this dilemma and know for sure Karen suggested. We’ll have to see the Oracle ourselves.

Hanson wasn’t convinced. Though he’d never met her, he knew enough to be wary. The Oracle didn’t give prophecies freely, so it was unlikely she was going to give any of them one at request. But if they were lucky, she might tell them if anyone had received one recently.

Fine Bureau settled. Matrious will track down our assailant while the rest of us will see the Oracle. Let’s get moving. The more we tally the greater distance our enemy gains.

With that, everyone filed out of the room.

THREE

C ome on out, little fella he cooed.

For the past hour, this apprentice had been searching for the little pest that was roaming around Matrious’s quarters, which was situated in one of the tallest towers in the Citadel. The largest of the rooms served as the Spell-Caster’s main work area, containing several bookcases and desks full of scrolls, potions, maps, plants and anything else he’ll need at his disposal. Two of the other three rooms were the sleeping areas, one room for him, the other for his apprentice, who at the moment was trying to catch the small creature that had gotten loose.

He was young, in his late teens, dark hair, and hazel eyes and dressed in a dark robed outfit. He was currently trying to coax the creature out using its natural food while setting traps around the room, several of which had already been set off by him walking into them. Smart little thing, aren’t you he mumbled as he searched behind a cupboard.

I didn’t think plants could walk on their own.

His whole body jumped at the sound of the voice. He quickly turned around, expecting his mentor to be standing there. He was surprised to see someone completely different, but instantly relaxed when he realised who it was. Though inwardly, he sighed heavily with annoyance at his reaction. Standing in front of him was a young girl, about his age with brown hair. She was standing near one of the tables, curiously watching him with bright pale-green eyes. She was dressed rather differently to him; tight leggings and cotton shirt under a pale jacket.

The apprentice rose out from behind the cupboard. What? he asked, his startled heart-rate subsiding.

She looked down at the open book lying on the table. Pan-sera? For a plant that grows in the snowy mountains, this doesn’t say it can walk.

The apprentice looked behind another bookcase. "The plant’s called Pancera, and that’s not what I’m looking for."

The girl looked back up at him. What are you looking for? "A Doudgot. It the size of a rat, with clawed feet, a long tail… And green eyes?" she finished.

He suddenly stared back at her. How did you know that?

She nodded towards the top of another bookcase. It’s up there.

He turned his head sharply. Sure enough, on top of the bookcase was the green-eyed rat look-alike Doudgot, which quickly scrambled off the case and jumped onto the floor. He dived after it as is ran under a small cabinet. He stayed on the floor trying to keep it in sight while the girl smirked. Need a hand? she asked.

No, I’ve got this one he answered immediately. The last thing he needed was an Enchanter’s help.

Almost all of the Enchanters in the Realm remained suspicious of Spell-Casters, had been for as long as anyone can remember. So the two races had drifted apart over the centuries. But they remained at each other’s side to keep the world going, provided they stayed out of each other’s way. Many on either side had developed a level of respect to the other, which was why they got on as well as they did. They’d each come to accept Enchanters had their magic, Casters had theirs. Enchanters didn’t tend to make social calls with Casters. Most weren’t the friendly type. But the young girl was different. The apprentice knew her well enough thanks to her natural curiosity. She was one of the many mages who rarely travelled far outside the main city, protection on her father’s part. So exploring the area was her best entertainment, occasionally stepping in to see Matrious.

The apprentice kept his gaze under the cabinet as he got hold the cage lying near the wall. Looking for something in particular, or just browsing?

The girl gave out an annoyed sigh. You shouldn’t look at one person and expect them all to be the same.

He glanced up at her. It’s not you. It’s Enchanters in general. They’re not exactly the kindest of people.

And Spell-Casters are? You’re the deceiving type, remember.

Yet we can be trusted to perform some of the most important spells. Tell me, why do you believe you’re the more superior race?

She smiled. Why do you believe yours is?

He quietly laughed. She wasn’t criticising, she was proving a point. They go back and forth like this for hours. No matter how many differences between the two races, they both believed they’re better than the other. Sometimes he wondered why a civil war hadn’t broken out years earlier.

He placed the cage in front of him, the open gate facing the creature. If you want to help, stun it if gets past he said to her.

She straightened up to attention, hand resting on her wand that was sitting on the table next to her. The apprentice looked at the cage, then back into the gap under the cabinet before muttering a short spell. Upon completion a burst of smoke erupted from underneath it. With a startled shriek the Doudgot ran out and straight into the cage, where he quickly locked the creature in. He stood up, looking at her with a smile, pleased with himself.

She smiled back. Good job.

Thanks he shrugged, looking at the caged creature. Strange though. She frowned. What? You caught him.

Yeah. But adult Doudgots are supposed to be able to blow fire, especially when they’re scared. This one didn’t at all. Maybe…

At that point, a thin jet of flame came out of the Doudgots mouth, almost catching the side of his head. He yelped with surprise while the girl simply laughed. When he recovered, he scowled at the creature. I hate animals.

I’m not surprised Matrious commented, standing in the doorway. The girl jumped at the Spell- Caster’s voice while the apprentice just looked up. You were always better at map reading.

He nodded in satisfaction before walking to a storage cupboard across the room, holding the Doudgot at arm’s length facing away from his face. Meanwhile Matrious strolled to the table and started shifting through the various books and scrolls. The girl moved to the wall to get out of his way. Without looking up, he asked I presume your uncle knows you’re here?

She shifted on the spot uncomfortably. Of course. Why wouldn’t he? Because he wouldn’t let you anywhere near us the apprentice suggests. And because I just talked with him Matrious added.

She silently cursed under her breath. Well it’s not my fault he won’t let me out of the city she snapped. I mean, why it would be dangerous outside Dunsinane?

The apprentice shrugged. I don’t know he said sarcastically. "Bandits spring to mind. Maybe the horrible weather, or the wild animals, or the carnivorous plants. Psychopathic Magicians could be a reason. Wait, what’s the other one? Something else…what was it? Oh yeah, the War!"

You know the situation too well Emma Matrious said, almost apologetically. Your uncle wants you here while the war is raging because he doesn’t want you to be in danger.

Emma slumped down in one of the chairs. It’s not fair. I’m forever having to stay out of the way just to remain safe, hiding in this castle. Why can’t he let me let out every once in a while? Go with him to a negotiation or a clean-up or something? Just somewhere under his control so it’s fine for both of us?

Matrious doesn’t say a word, and nor does the apprentice. Emma is the High-Lord’s niece. So for her protection she can’t leave the city, just in case she becomes a target for the Death-Hunters. Leader’s state of mind changes when family’s at stake.

Matrious scowled as he searched through another book. "David. Where’s the Traveller’s Enthropedia?"

The apprentice looked up from where he was cleaning up. The what? Tobin Med’s work?

Oh, that. I was reading it earlier. I think I left it over here somewhere.

He walked across and searched through another desk. After a minute, he found it. Matrious took the book from him and quickly flipped through the pages until he found the right chapter. After another few seconds he closed the book and nodded to David. Good. Get the gear. Bureau has asked me to track down a vanishing Spell-Caster. I want you to help me.

David blinked at his mentor. Really? he asked. He’d practised under him for a long time but rarely gets to assist with official spells for the Council.

Matrious grinned at his eager apprentice. Unless you wish to politely decline he said, already knowing the answer.

David rushed into the storage room. Just let me get everything!

The mentor gathered a couple of other items to bring with them, before addressing Emma. What about you?

She looked up at him. Excuse me?

Care to join us? he asked politely.

She sat up straight, startled at the question. What?

At the same time, David poked his head out and stared at his mentor. What?!

Matrious looked at them both in turn, his amber eyes observing them carefully. I don’t think it’s fair for Emma to remain stuck here all the time either. We all have to see the world for what it is eventually. Besides, she might be able to help.

David finished gathering the gear required. I don’t know. he muttered, his mind racing with all the things that could go wrong. He’s thinking if she goes with them, they’ll all be in trouble with the High- Lord if he finds out. When he finds out.

Emma also considers this, even though she wants more than anything a chance to get out of the Citadel. No she finally said, sadly shaking her head. There’ll be a lot of trouble if my uncle finds out, and it’ll be worse when he discovers you were the one encouraging it. I’ll stay here, as always.

Matrious stood silent for a moment, gazing down at her. David had this horrible feeling he was going to try and convince her to come. If this Caster wanted something, he’d always argue for it. And he’d almost always win. Luckily, the old man dropped his gaze. Very well he said, sounding almost disappointed. We’ll go to the plains ourselves. Come on David. As they prepared to leave, he turned to face the young girl one final time. Be sure to keep yourself defended, okay?

With that said, he stepped out of the room with his apprentice as Emma followed behind them. A quick spell locked the door and the two Casters walked away. Emma started to walk in the other direction, thinking once more about going with them, against her better judgement. Her uncle wouldn’t look kindly on any of them if he found out. But she couldn’t help mule over Matrious’ last words to her.

As she strode down the hallway, she subconsciously checked for her wand, where she realised it was missing. She thought back, trying to place where she had it last. When it came to her, it suddenly all became clear. Looking down the corridor she could see Matrious and David still walking in the opposite direction. Without even a glance back, the elderly Spell-Caster raised his hand above his head, twirling the carved wooden wand through his fingers.

Emma laughed, knowing this was going to get her into really deep water. But she couldn’t stop herself smiling as she jogged down the hall to catch up with them.

FOUR

T he Oracle isn’t the kindest of people General Hanson knew of.

What he did know was that she was one of the oldest in the Realm. Some mages could live longer than the normal lifespan thanks to various spells and rituals. And yet she could outlive them million times over. Over a thousand years old, possibly more; no-one really knows exactly. But she soon became one of the most valuable people in the land. He didn’t know the full history, but what everyone knew was this: she had the gift of prophecy and had shaped the destiny of the Realm for centuries. Whatever the case, the Oracle was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the most dangerous person in the Realm. Even the High-King himself feared her.

Now he, Elder Karen, Elder Ramous, Captain Von Hugh and High-Lord Bureau were walking towards the tower just outside the city where she currently resided. Originally she lived out in the wilderness in isolation, her location known only to those who sought her out. But she now resides in a lone tower, deep in the heart of the kingdom under heavy protection; though there’s always been a debate whether the protection was necessary, or whether it’s really for her at all. Hanson often wondered what led to the High-King’s decision to bring the Oracle here. According to rumours, one of her predictions foretold the destruction of the city unless she was there to oversee it personally. Apparently the Elders were persuaded to oblige by some superstitious Council members. As a result, she’d been here for decades now and the city’s still standing, so the prediction was never confirmed. Hanson put it don’t to the over reactive imagination of politicians, but her reputation has made her someone to fear.

The tower came into view around the next corner. It wasn’t the tallest, but it certainly seemed to be the darkest. He’d never been here before, but the others seemed a little reluctant to go any closer. The structure loomed over them, the air growing cold despite the sunny day it was, and Hanson felt an ice cold shiver run down his spine. He realised his nerves were suddenly on edge as fear crept over him, and he hadn’t even met the Oracle yet.

There was a single guard standing by the entrance, who stood to attention as they approached. A simple nod got them through; there’s only one reason someone would want to come here. As they entered the tower, Hanson glanced back and would swear he saw him cross his chest. Then the doors closed behind him. Hanson felt like he should run, but so not to seem weak in front of his superiors he marched onwards up the staircase. They eventually arrived at another set of doors, this time with two guards keeping watch. The High-Lord stopped before the doors and studied them. From his place behind the others Hanson couldn’t see what he was doing, but he thought he could hear him whispering some sort of prayer; either that or his gnawing fear was making him hear things.

After a silent minute, Bureau turned to the guards. Leave us!

They didn’t hesitate or ask questions. They seemed relieved to be sent away. Once they left, Elder Karen turned to Hanson. You haven’t yet faced the Oracle have you? he stated rather rhetorically.

No, I haven’t he responded, his voice surprisingly quiet.

I advise you to be wary. Even the Elders try not to visit her unless absolutely necessary. She’ll know more about you then you even realise, and won’t hesitate to use you secrets if she needs to. Just do your best not to show weakness.

Enough! Bureau said plainly. It’s time. The High-Lord opened the doors. Hanson took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and carefully stepped inside with the rest of the group.

Inside, the room was brighter. Looked more like the High-Lord’s comfortable living quarters than a prison cell. And clearly its occupant thought so too. Bookshelves lined the walls of the room packed full of works from hundreds of famous writers, the majority on their history. Tables were covered with scrolls and more books. The occupant clearly enjoyed to read. The Oracle sat in a leather armchair, casually reading a thick volume. Beside her was a small desk with a chessboard on top, the pieces scattered in the early stages of a game. Another look around revealed a couple more chess games in various stages, some rather complex matches indicating a very avid player. After a minute of silence she lifted her gaze to her new visitors, and her blue eyes bored directly into Hanson. When she spoke, her voice seemed to echo inside his head. Welcome to my humble home. How’s everything going?

Bureau spoke immediately. We are here on important business, Priestess. We don’t have time for a simple chat.

Nonsense she laughed. There’s always time to chat. There’s much to talk about. She stood up, keeping her gaze locked on Hanson, staring deep into his eyes. You’re troubled Hanson. You shouldn’t be.

Hanson just about flinched when she said his name, but held his nerve. He stared back, trying not to waver under her gaze. He was only an Enchanter, a solider, but even he could feel the power she had pulsing around her. He’d never felt anything that powerful. Not even the High-King. It felt…older.

She finally turned away to the High-Lord, and Hanson couldn’t help thinking she’d just finished absorbing every secret he had. How goes the war? she asked Bureau.

You know exactly how it goes he answered in a lowered voice. Yes, but I like to hear other perspectives from time to time. Unfortunately, like I said, we’re on urgent business.

I know she said, walking calmly back to her armchair. You recovered this soldier out near the Vess outpost out in the plains she gestured to the captain. He was the only survivor of an attack from a single individual, a Death-Hunter, who promptly fled after being seriously injured. Before he did, he claimed he had spoken to me, and that he had the means to end your war. She smiled as she looked back at them.

There was a hesitant minute before Ramous spoke. Well? Did you?

Back in my little cavern in the cliffs of Rotenberg, I could claim to have many visitors. Alas, here I’m limited to a rare number, which is slowly decreasing.

You’re not a prisoner here Karen reminded her.

Oh, of course not. Not that any prison could hold me anyway. I’m not complaining. I like it here. More peaceful. Plus, with this war raging across the Realm, I’m able to keep up to date on the status of both sides. She picked up the book again. Brilliant author, Meds, don’t you think? This is his documentation of the Battle of Warlock. Those were the days. The old, dark days. Nasty battle, Warlock.

I don’t have a lot of time for reading Bureau said impatiently.

The Oracle glanced up at him. Her look changed into a cold stare that chilled Hanson to the bone. You should she said slowly. The words seemed to reverberate around the room.

The High-Lord remained unfazed. Did you give a prophecy to a Death-Hunter or not?

The Oracle opened the book to a marked page before answering. A member of the Death-Hunter faction paid me a visit. Interesting chap. Very confident. A brave man indeed. A cunning man. A bit too brazen for my liking. You could consider him as being…driven.

Karen spoke up. Do you know who he was?

Her eyes looked up from her book briefly. Hanson thought he saw something, a glance towards one of the Elders. But her gaze dropped as quickly as it rose, so he dismissed it. You know, he never said. But I’m sure you’ll discover who he was in time.

Why not just tell us who he is? Hanson queried. Where’d be the fun in that?

What did he want? Bureau asked.

I’m sure you already know that, my Lord. She laid the book down on her lap, looking across to the rest of the group. I suppose you’ll want me to confirm what I told him too?

If you wouldn’t mind? Karen confirmed.

The Oracle didn’t reply. She just went back to her book. This is getting us nowhere the High-Lord cursed, frustrated as he turned to leave. This is clearly a hoax. Just another game for her.

But Hanson was deep in thought. The way she talked about Med’s book, it was like she was trying to hint at something. He remembered reading about the Battle of Warlock. He didn’t know how the Oracle worked, but she seemed to be showing more interest in the past rather than the present. Does she normally speak in riddles? he asked the Elders.

Occasionally. Why? Ramous asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

Hanson turned to the Oracle. Does the Battle of Warlock have any bearing on our war now?

She didn’t answer straight away, but he saw a slight smile as she lowered the book and looked up at him. Have you read it, General?

Once, a long time ago. It was during the Cascade Rebellion. Warlock was the rebel’s stronghold, a key city in the realm. It was the location of the final battle, the Kings Guard vs the Rebels. The battle was bloody and violent, lasting days as the Guard closed on the city, where they finally vanquished the resistance. Thousands of people died on both sides.

Anything else? the Oracle prompted.

The General was taken aback, but thought back to the stories he’d heard. During the final day, before the Guard stormed the City, the Rebels tried to use a last resort, a secret weapon. But it failed.

Is this supposed to be going somewhere? Bureau demanded. We have a war raging across the Realm, and you’re standing here discussing an old piece of history?

They failed… the Captain continued, surprising everyone except the Oracle. …but they nearly succeeded.

Indeed she nodded. Med was a brilliant strategist, and very accurate in his literature. He wrote of the last battle in great detail. The Guard stormed the Citadel, wading through rebel fighters as they approached the Pinnacle, an ancient monument that existed for millions of years. There, the rebel leaders tried to unleash their final secret, a weapon they’d spent months preparing for. They’d scoured the Realm, searching for the key to open a vault to a source of immense power. A power they would use to overthrow the Council and free the Realm. But it didn’t work. The Guard captured the rebel leaders. The key was lost, and the power remained locked away.

The whole room had fallen silent, everyone taking in what had just been said. After a few minutes, it was Karen who broke the silence. So, the Rebels tried to unleash a power the Guard couldn’t stop, but it didn’t work. That just sounds like a myth.

It is Ramous stated. "I’ve heard of something similar. It’s known as the Vault of Power. It’s said to be the most pure source of magic in all of creation. No one ever found it. It’s said whoever wields it will become as powerful as…well, as a God."

But if the rebels tried, then the key they used, or ritual, whatever it was, didn’t work. They failed. Didn’t even come close to succeeding.

The Oracle looked at the Elders, speaking slowly. The only thing they got wrong was the location. They captured the city Warlock early in the war because they believed it held the location of the Vault, the Pinnacle to be precise. That’s where they went wrong. Everything else was all done to precision. Failed, yes. But they got close.

Hanson edged closer to the Oracle, forgetting his earlier unease. Are you saying the Vault exists? That there is a source of immense power?

And the Death-Hunters are looking for it! Bureau finished.

And finally, the penny drops the Oracle laughs. They seek to open the Vault and use it to end the war. Nothing can stand against it. Not the High-King, nor the most powerful Sorcerers in the Realm. Whoever controls the Vault controls the outcome of the war.

Everyone suddenly looked like they’d been slapped in the face. If the Death-Hunters did succeed in opening the Vault and unleashing the power within, then nothing would stop them destroying the kingdom. The General made the suggestion he knew everyone would agree with. Then we must find the Vault before they do!

I second that! Karen agreed. He turned back to the Oracle. If we are to stop this plot, then we need to know how far the Death-Hunters are to accomplishing it. And we need to know where to start looking.

The Oracle leaned back in her chair, placing the book on the table by her side, eyeing the chess game beside her. I could. But then things may not go the way I see it.

Bureau stormed up to her. This isn’t the time for riddles, witch! You are no longer in a neutral position! You need to choose a side and choose wisely!

She rose slowly, face coming level with his. The temperature in the room suddenly dropped several degrees, making Hanson’s blood go cold. The reason I choose to stay neutral in this conflict, High- Lord Bureau Knight she said coldly, "is because I can see a thousand ways this war will end, and none of them are ideal for anyone. I see this war dragging on for years, one bloody skirmish after another. Sometimes I see the fall of the Death-Hunters, sometimes the Guard. The details vary, but in every instance, the end result is an unpleasant aftermath.

"And now lately, something new has happened. Something new has changed the outcome to something worse. This outcome will leave repercussions on the entire world, an end far more devastating than that of this simple, violent war. Now, believe it or not, this Death-Hunter plot has revealed a new branch of possibilities that might just, just, make fighting this war worthwhile, a step towards diverting this new fate. If you want my help, you will heed my advice and respect my methods, as you have done for generations."

No one spoke, or even breathed. They all waited for the High-Lord to respond as he glared at the priestess. No one stands up to the Oracle unless they truly don’t understand how powerful and dangerous she is. After what seemed like an eternity, Bureau finally stepped back. She kept her gaze locked on him as she sat back down in her armchair. "I will tell you what I believe I need to tell you. It will either be clear, or vague. This is how I work, and how I will work. Understood?"

One by one, they nodded, starting with Elder Ramous and ending with a reluctant but still fuming Bureau. Hanson, however, couldn’t help but ask another request. Can you at least tell us the prophecy you told this Hunter?

Oracle was silent for a moment, but then the cold gaze faded from her eyes as her features softened. That I can she decided. She took a deep breath and spoke the prophecy:

The war of death shall come to an end, an ancient secret few can comprehend. Hunters will search and soldiers will fall, till the Dial of Stone is revealed to all. Among the ruins will the hour be held, the Key unleashing a power untold.

There the champion will claim his greatest gift, and nothing in the Realm can prevent it.

No one of this Realm can stop us the Captain Hugh echoed. That’s what he said.

Karen also looked shaken. This doesn’t sound good. They’re already searching for the Vault. We need to get started.

Indeed Ramous agreed. "A good place to start would be this Dial of Stone. What is it? The Key? A map to the Key she corrected. There are two maps, created along with the Vault supposedly.

One leads to the Key, the other to the Vault itself. After the Battle of Warlock, they were separated and hidden. I don’t know if the Death-Hunters have found the Vault map, but they do have the guide to the Key. She paused for effect as she smiled. Technically."

Technically? Hanson asked.

It’s in the possession of a Death-Hunter, but he’s not with the others. He’s isolated, injured following a skirmish with a squad of the Guard.

Von Hugh’s eyes widened. The Spell-Caster from the plains! he whispered.

He’s got the map! Karen said, alarmed. And now he’s out there somewhere, still holding on to it! They’ll be searching for him! We need to get to him first!

Do you know where he went?