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Printed from https://writing.com/main/campfires/item_id/1395092-Wayward-Path
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by Daizy Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Campfire Creative · Fiction · Fantasy · #1395092
An epic journey that will test the bravery, skill, and wit of our heroes.
[Introduction]
On wayward path you choose to walk
Though creatures roam and danger stalks.
Such Evil lurks in lands too near,
One's destiny is not so clear...



For nearly two centuries, the land of Esylla has been a peaceful place. All the races trade freely with each other, and past animosities are cast aside for the promise of an even brighter future. At first glance, life seems easy and carefree for all the citizens, but sadly they are ignorant of the growing threat in the barren east lands. A dark magic as old as the earth itself has been rediscovered and the evil weaves its' way into the hearts of any susceptible sorcerers. The last time the evil was released, the best anyone could do was suppress it. Now, the methods for containing it's darkness have been lost.





Characters:


Sorceress: An experienced light and dark magic user. Unfortunately, she has never been able to master the strongest spells because of her inability to choose the side of good or evil. Her life has been hard and her deepest regret is that she cannot change her past. Daizy Author Icon

Wizard: A debonair bachelor with a natural talent for alchemy and the innate ability to summon the wind to do his bidding. Though he is generally jovial in nature, he harbors secrets that could destroy him in the end. xzar

Summoner: He has the unique ability to call water creatures to do his bidding. He is still learning about his magic. He was wronged by the witch and vowed to get revenge as soon as he has the chance. Aiken4LOTR Author Icon

Druid: The earth itself answers to the druid. She is powerful, but unfortunately she is also extremely emotional. She is the witch's older sister and her mission in life is to bring her sister into the light again... mind the gap Author Icon

Apprentice: The sorceress's young brother. He has been coddled by his sister since the death of their parents. He has been stealing moments with her spellbooks for years and finally plucked up the courage to ask her to teach him magic. (NPC- unless someone convinces me otherwise)

Witch: A pyromaniac if there ever was one. The witch is deeply in lust with the warlock and will do anything to make him happy. Ascetic of Words Author Icon

Warlock: He used to be a strong force of good, and head of the Council. One day, he discovered a lost dark magic that hardened his heart. He has studied all magics and excels in the most disturbing evil spells. (NPC- unless someone convinces me otherwise)




Rules:

1) Only ask for an invite if we've written together before or if you're willing to submit a well-written piece (previous campfires accepted). Please pay attention to the caliber of the writers already accepted. If you don't feel that you can keep up, please don't request an invite... Sorry, it's been a while since I've put pen to paper (or finger to key, in this case) with others and I only want experienced authors.

2) 2500 minumum add (not that much actually... only about a page on Word)

3) Feel free to write whatever you need to in order to keep the story relevent. If this means a ratings change (so long as all of the contributors agree) I have no issue making this GC.

4) Golden Rule.... Treat others with repect and they'll do the same. Ex: No killing off main characters without proper permission.

5) Gimme what you've got guys! You're all awesome and this story is going to be amazing. I respect and admire everyone (or I wouldn't have invited you) and I look forward to writing with you again!


Name:Kylin Merias
Age: 29
Race: Elfin
Allignment:Neutral
Element: Light and Dark
Magic: Kylin commands light and dark, though neither to its’ fullest capacity. She can transform energy or infuse it into items. She can create light (not heat) or subtract light from her surroundings. Kylin is a natural at spell casting and reading runes.
Weapons: A willow longbow with cherry and ash arrows (onyx tipped) all with runes etched into them. She also carries a hunting knife and a dirk.
Appearance: Her body, as if internally conflicted, has never attained the usual Elfin beauty most maiden’s acquire. She is neither tall, nor short, fat, nor thin… Her hair is black as night in the sunshine, but as soon as the sun sets, it looses all pigment, turning white. Her eyes run the gambit from the palest blue to the darkest black (depending on her mood). Her skin is tanned, as she spends much of her free time out of doors practicing her craft or training. Agile and graceful, her beauty lies in the way she moves and there is a lovely quality about her soft voice.
Personality: Kylin is a typical big sister. She would do anything, including kill or be killed, for her little brother. Since her uncle left her to fend for herself, she disowned him and now considers Darus to be her only family. Because of that, she is fiercely protective of him (and most children). She coddles him and neither one of them can remember a time she has told him no. She is cold to strangers and holds grudges longer than most. However, Kylin is loyal to a fault if her friendship is gained. She is scared of becoming powerful, as she has seen so much evil done with those who had too much. On the flip side, she wants to know everything about the world around her. She considers knowledge to be the one harmless power. She angers easily and chastises others quickly. Kylin is completely self-sufficient and does not ask for help. Fortunately, there is a side of Kylin that is sweet, lighthearted, and innocent. The sad part is that this alter ego is rarely seen because there are few people she is truly comfortable with.
Family: Her mother Karah died giving birth to her brother Darus. This ruined her father (a council member) and actually caused him to go mad. When he killed himself, they moved in with her Uncle Andras and he took care of them for half of a decade. Andras took Kylin completely under his wing and taught her everything he knew about magic and science. Because she was not adept at the sciences, he refused to take her on as a partner after her studies were complete. Kylin had a marketable trade and he refused to care for her or Darus any longer. She inherited her father’s home and over the past 9 years, she has taken enough odd jobs to make sure that Darus was always well taken care of.
A Non-Existent User
Name: Aelfred Morgan

Age: 34

Race: Human

Alignment: Good

Element: Wind

Magic: Whilst Aelfred has a large degree of mastery over the wind and the skies that it travels through, he is also talented in the more grounded and scientific arts of alchemy and transmutation - the latter of which he is dread to use without extreme urgency, a lesson learnt from bitter experience.

Weapons: Aelfred only carries a rapier and prefers to avoid using it, relying on his magic and alchemical creations for protection. When he does draw his sword it is usually with gentlemanly intentions, albeit with obvious violent consequences.

Appearance: Aelfred is tall and lean and although he isn't what many would consider classically handsome he has a charm and a warmth that lights up his entire demeanor. Whilst his voice and words are open and friendly, he often shields himself with crossed arms and appears very distant, a symptom of the now almost defunct Council of Mages which he is desperately trying to patch together again. His eyes are a brilliant blue colour, which light up and darken light a litmus test of his mood.

Personality: Carefree, kind and patient are words that the Council used to discuss Aelfred, sometimes with a little disdain. Now the Council is very different, as is Aelfred in many ways. Whilst he retains many of his softer traits, they are also tempered with a grim resolve to facing down his enemies and to reunite the stray members of the Council – but with many flocking to the dark arts and the powers that they promise and more still silently swearing fealty to the darkness whilst spying on the remaining Mages who fight for the light, Aelfred is finding it an uphill battle. He is nonetheless optimistic and in contact with many of the Mages that still identify themselves with causes of good and neutrality. Aelfred can however be rash and act without thinking and is very good at stubbornly digging his heels in if he is convinced he is right.

Family: Of direct bloodline relatives, Aelfred only has a nephew who is now called Tomas. After the death of his mother, Aelfred's sister, the young man decided to change his name and Aelfred neither questioned why nor has ever called him by his original name since. Tomas is a dutiful boy and looks up to Aelfred, sometimes more so than his own father which can cause a little tension between the men. Aelfred certainly never courted Tomas' respect and the boy has become something of a dubious apprentice to the Wizard. Whilst Tomas' father initially resisted Tomas staying with Aelfred, both of them eventually moved in with him in his hillside laboratory where they have become a dysfunctional family of sorts ever since.
Name: Callida Valtin

Age: 33

Race: Human

Alignment: Evil

Element: Fire

Magic: Callida creates fire, generally in the form of explosions or sudden waves of heat and flame. She has little in the way of persistent magic, and usually cares little for possible collateral damage, and thus has never spent much time trying to control her power.

Weapons: A pair of thin, sharp daggers engraved with the names ‘Petula’ and ‘Letitia’. She also carries a wooden staff sharpened on both ends.

Appearance: She is thin, but short so that it seems natural. Her eyes are a brilliant blue, but shift to a burning red-orange whenever she uses her magic. Her features are sharp, but attractive when she is at ease, the sharpness exaggerating her crazed visage when she grows excited. Her skin is bronzed by her magic and tough, with one arm covered in scars from her own explorations, though a long glove always covers these wounds. Her red hair is cared for well, and hangs down to her shoulders fetchingly, but frazzles and grows unkempt when she uses her power. On her shoulder perches her familiar, Acario.

Personality: Callida is barely sane anymore. She was clearly the unfavored child, and the resentment it caused grew steadily inside her until she snapped. The Warlock discovered her and has trained her to use her power while twisting her mind, so that she finds little joy anymore in anything that doesn’t either serve his desires or inflict pain on others. She has learned these lessons well, and takes true delight in hurting others, though after her experiments on her own arm went awry, she hates feeling it herself even more than when she left home, gaining a genuine phobia of physical pain. She enjoys watching people burn, taking delight in noticing little differences from one person to the next. For special occasions or victims, she uses her daggers, often cauterizing the wounds to continue for longer. She hates her sister with a passion as hot as her magic, with only the Warlock able to control her when the Druid is brought up. She sees the Warlock as the only being alive that ever gave her the attention and understanding she deserved.

Family: She is the younger sister of the Druid, and found little appreciation for her power, the fire being short-lived and destructive. Compared with the Druid’s power to grant life through the earth, Callida was barely even noticed or tolerated. She spent years resenting her sister even before she left, and eventually did so in an explosion of temper and magic. The explosion injured most of the household, and killed their brother.


Name: Acario

Race: Great Grey Shrike, currently Callida’s familiar

Magic: Can speak with Callida fluently, though no one else can understand. Also
possesses an incredible resistance to fire, and is grateful for it.

Appearance: Gray feathers cover the body of this nine inch long bird. His beak is hooked slightly at the end, and kept wickedly sharp.

Personality: Acario is the sane one of the pair. He tends to keep Callida’s worst fits of temper pointed in the right direction when the Warlock isn’t there to do so. He is sarcastic and spiteful, and every bit as evil as his master. He has grown accustomed to cooked meat, and will rarely eat meat that isn’t scorched anymore.


Name: Gabriel Velatas
Age: 30 by human years
Race: Elfin
Alignment: Neutral, though it sometimes depends on his mood
Element: Water

Magic: Gabriel has command over the seas, calling water creatures to do his bidding and containing the distinct ability to bend water at will. He can sense that there is more to his powers, but has yet to unleash his full potential. Gabriel also has extensive plant and healing knowledge.

Weapon: When water is present, his ability to bend it and summon creatures is his only necessary weapon. However, until he has learned more about his powers, Gabriel often pairs them with the deadly finesse and biting edge of his twin blades, the two curved swords he carries strapped onto his back.

Appearance: Gabriel’s tall, lean frame exudes a mysterious visage, which seems to hide his potential for both great power and great danger. His features are surprisingly dark and disturbingly beautiful, contrasting sharply with his soft, faint complexion. His hair falls just past his shoulders in a cascading, unsettled mass of dark brown, nearly black, locks. His eyes are a complex mix of dark brown and blue, appearing as murky and alluring as his overall demeanor. He often veils himself in a long, dark cloak to hide himself from the gaze of wandering eyes and uninvited attention.

Personality: Gabriel is a quiet fellow, but it would be a mistake for one to assume him as harmless or ineffectual. Instead, he chooses to embrace silence and affect others in a softer, subtler manner. Despite his seemingly placid way of speaking and acting, Gabriel has a very heated temper and can easily be tempted to abuse his abilities and use them against others. He has more often than not been drawn to the causes of good, but he claims neutrality as he has also interacted with the dark—a fact that only one of his fellow Council members knows. Gabriel means well but is driven by his desire to further explore his gifts, which has caused him to drift towards dark magic. Through his constantly changing disposition, Gabriel can demonstrate kindness when he feels inclined to do so, and he can also display a rather impressive sense of humor.

Family: Gabriel lost his family recently and now travels with a small band of elves who claim neutrality in the war. They have all secretly dabbled in magic and arts better left unspoken, but they have now formed their own family structure, where they can continue practicing and honing their powers while struggling to evade the darkness. None have questioned what happened to Gabriel’s family and whether he was involved in their disappearance, but they feel it best to forget the past. Gabriel knows it won’t be long before someone from the Council comes looking for him, hoping to reconnect the group in an effort to learn about and fight against the impending evil.
(Available Character)
Name:Darus Merias
Age: 14
Race: Elfin
Alignment: Neutral
Element: Unknown
Magic: Rudimentary spell casting. His most advanced skill is enhancing (working with the natural order of things to make them better). He often uses it silently in his studies as it enables him to absorb the information faster. There is potential… Great potential.
Weapons: Crossbow and he’s actually quite good at throwing daggers.
Appearance: Small for his age and very slight. He has ash brown hair cut short with expressive blue-green eyes. His features are soft and angular at the same time. All in all, he is more beautiful than handsome, though he would hate anyone who observed this. He wants to be a strong, tall, muscular Elf as, he has been told, his father was. His voice tends to be loud and jovial. He is always smiling and causing others around him to smile as well.
Personality: Intuitive and intelligent. He takes after his sister in many ways though thankfully he is not so jaded. He does think the same way she does and prides himself on his ability to predict her actions before she even does anything. Darus is Kylin’s light in the darkness. He has always possessed a special way of making his sister smile. He tends to joke and play when he shouldn’t, but one look from his sister will bring him where he needs to be. He has boundless energy that he frequently utilizes. He loves to run and be in the sunshine and go on expeditions with his sister. He is spoiled, extremely so, and has never has to want for anything. When Darus wants something, be it a pet or toy or any other whim, Kylin will go to any length to get it for him. He loves the attention, but when she coddles him in front of his friends, he withdraws. He talked more than he should and listens less than he should, but all in all he is a good young lad.
Family: Though he never really met either of his parents, he has grown up on stories of their love and devotion to Kylin. He has transferred this love to himself, thinking that if they were alive they would love him the same as they did Kylin. He is not fond of his uncle Andras, as the man has never been kind to him. Andras was always telling the young boy to get out of the way or be quiet. Because Andras kicked them out when Darus was five, he has come to develop a burning desire to show his uncle that he is worthy. He wants to be a great sorcerer so that one day he can rub it in Andras’ face. This desire fuels his willingness to learn everything he can.



mind the gap Author Icon
Name: Keladry Valtin
Age: 35
Race: Human
Alignment: Good
Element: Earth
Magic: Plants, rock, earth and wildlife answer to the druid. Though, while the magic of the earth seems eager to grant itself to her, she must still possess the concentration required to contain and shape that magic, which she can not do when upset. Innumerable accidents have occurred on occasions when Keladry was impatient, angry, afraid, nervous or in mourning. She prefers to think that she has too much magic, rather than too little control, and can be slightly sensitive about the subject.
Weapons: Keladry does not carry weapons. She does not wish to ever be perceived as threatening; if truth be told she has always thought less of those who desire to cause fear in others. Preferring peace does no make one invulnerable, a lesson (or three, or four) learned the difficult way. She has been training in martial arts, so that she has a chance of defending herself when her mind and magic are otherwise distracted.
Appearance: The Valtin sisters are both rather small in stature, though that is where their similarities end. Keladry is pale in comparison to her sister, but her skin is still a rich tan from a life spent in the sun. Her face is soft and gentle—slightly aged, perhaps, but with a more inherent goodness that suggests it has always been that way. Buoyant curls, blonde, fall delicately about her shoulders. She stands an inch or so above five feet, with a body that is healthy—perhaps a little soft—and slender hips that have never borne children, and never will.
Personality: Believing that all life is innately good, the druid spends her time looking for the best qualities in others, and preserving it. She trusts too readily. Keladry is an emotional and endlessly compassionate human. Her feelings play upon her face with a child-like clarity—she has a smile that will lift your spirits, and large, moss green eyes that could break your heart. It is nigh impossible for her to lie; her expressions (which she is hardly conscious of) imply that she feels everything deeply, straight from the heart. Life, granted us by the earth, is a sacred gift; though she will never speak of a god or pantheon. Spare moments find the druid sitting somewhere green, perhaps made so by her own hand, and sometimes humming or singing quietly for the animals.
Family: All that remains of Keladry’s family is her younger sister, the fiery witch Callida. Loving Callida is a difficult and painful task on the best of days. Loving Callida, after she has killed the rest Valtin family, turned her back on her sister, tortured friends and companions, and deprived Kelandry of her deepest desire and most natural right, is damn near impossible. Keladry has suffered greatly at the hands of her sister, and never once has she given up hope that one day Callida will walk with her in light.
Familiar: Keladry sometimes walks with a great and gentle wolf, Diriken, who befriended her when she was lost, upset and alone in the woods after the news of her parent’s death. He comes and goes as he pleases, enjoying the time he spends with the earth-woman, but preferring his own kind. He was blinded when a flaming branch fell on his snout, indirect damage from one of the witch’s fires. He is wise, and quiet; rarely speaking any more in his old age. He is no longer a physical threat, having past his prime many years ago, but the wild seems to understand that greatness deserves to die in peace. The pack roams the plains and woods at a pace he is comfortable with, and honors him greatly.

         She watched the clouds dance in the sky. If they had been lovely pale colors of blue and pink it would have been a comforting sight, but these were no such hue. These were evil in tone... scarlet, emerald, and violet. A violent, thrashing sunset beckoning the dark night to swallow her up. It was as if two great gods clashed weapons in the sky and the clouds were the shards of metal broken off with such force that on immortals could muster.

         Kylin could honestly admit that she was terrified of the sight. There were few in the realms that could cause an anomaly of such magnitude. One of those beings would never touch such magic. But the other... The other was the question, now wasn’t he?

         A simple squeeze to the hand brought her back to reality. A young boy, her brother, glanced up at her. The fear in his eyes did nothing to quell her apprehension. "I’ve never seen a sky like that before. Are you scared Kylin?"

          “Never,” She smiled and ruffled his hair. She would never admit any weakness to the young boy. He saw her as so many things: caregiver, sister, mother, friend, protector. Kylin would not add any form of fear to that list. It was not her way, and it was certainly not the way of her people. “We’re going home now. You’ve studying to do.”

         He groaned. The last thing he wanted to do was study. Elfin History… Could it get any more boring? “When can I start learning spells?”

          “You need to know where the magic comes from before you can summon it. The history of our people will teach you such things.”

          “I’m fourteen already. You started at ten.”

          “I had good teachers. You have none.”

         He made a motion to say something. He wanted desperately to ask her to teach him herself, but there was something within him that would not allow it. He sensed a sadness about her and he poked her in the side with his finger. She looked at him. The quizzical look on her face asking him why he did what he did. Saying nothing, Darus ran off towards their home.

         Kylin smiled and followed him. The path was well maintained as it was a main road in the city of her birth, Emria. This was home to the elves. It was the magical epicenter of Esylla, though the Council at Mahres, just north, would argue otherwise. Elves knew the truth… magic had begun with them and it would end with them. Humans would tamper and play at spellcasting, but their love would always be the sciences. No Elf in his right mind gave credence to the sciences. Those Elves who did take the path of science were castaways in the community, even though it looked to be the wave of the future. There was only death and conflict in the mixing and making of unnatural components. Nature was more than adequate for any real spell and sciences bastard concoctions were an abomination to Mother Earth herself.

         When she finally caught up with Darus, she noticed something in his arms. Closer surveillance revealed a furry something.

         ”Can I keep her?” He revealed a small wildcat purring loudly and kneading his chest. “Her mother must’ve left her alone and she followed me home. I’ll take good care of Lantern I promise.”

         ”Lantern?”

         ”In the dark her eyes shine like a lantern. I though it appropriate.” Darus beamed, smiling ear to ear. “She could be my familiar! I’ve read about them, you know, they’re supposed to be highly magical creatures in tune with their masters-“

         ”Whoa, slow down Darus! You can’t just choose an animal to be your familiar. It’s a delicate process between magical creature and magic user. It isn’t about a hungry wildcat following a young boy home.” An exasperated Kylin sighed as she looked into the young boys eyes. She felt inadequate at that moment. It was as if she weren’t enough for him. The cat needed to fill a void in his life. “She isn’t a project you can stop working on or a spell you can memorize and throw away. She’s a living creature. Tiny and fragile as she may be now, when she grows she will be formidable. However, Lantern may prove to be a useful guard in the end. You must promise to take full responsibility for and her actions.”

         ”Oh I promise! I will Kylin. She’ll have the shiniest coat and the best treats”

         Kylin said nothing as she walked up to the front door of her family’s home. It was a modest two story dwelling built in typical Elfin fashion, built into and around an old Rowan tree. The Rowan was the Merias Family emblem. A blue star shined behind the tree in full bloom. It was a sign of goodness and the tree itself repelled evil and brought fortune on the family that bore its crest. Where has our fortune gone? Did it die with Father? She paused a moment as she checked the wards protecting the home. There was something amiss.

         ”Darus stay back.” She hissed. Quickly bringing up a protective circle around her brother, she called power into the runes carved into the Rowan and brought the seeking magic out into the home, probing for an intruder or foreign magic. There was resistance on the lower level. Kylin began to whisper an incantation to blind the trespasser as she opened the door.

         A bright flash lit up the foyer and brought a man to his knees. “To the depths! What is your grudge against me?”

         ”Mereth?”

         ”Aye, back from the Wastelands and bringing news from Mahres.” He placed his hands along his eyes. “It was a good spell though and better to know you have no need of palace guards stationed at the front door.”

         ”I was only protecting Darus.” She reversed the spell with a flick of the wrist and her cousin’s eyesight returned to normal.

         ”And I cannot fault you for it.” He smiled and called out. “Darus, come see your favorite Elf!”

         Darus entered tentatively and then beamed as he saw the strapping young Elf standing, arms open, inviting him in. If there were a man Darus looked up to, it was Mereth. He was everything a prince of the realms should be. He was tall and lithe, though stronger than he looked. His ash brown hair fell beguilingly into his captivating moss green eyes. If one did not know better, they would think the two were brothers. Darus hugged his mentor and nearly squished the cub in his arms.

         ”What is this? Blind your guests, but give hearth and home to a beast of the forest?” Mereth laughed his good-natured laugh and gathered the animal in his hands. Looking him over, he declared, “A finer pet could never be had. Good choice lad.”

         Kylin sighed, a smile creeping to her lips. Mereth motioned to the sitting area where a pile of cloth wrapped presents sat waiting. Darus’ eyes grew large and he mouthed For me?. Mereth nodded and Darus, taking his pet with him, left the two adults to tear into his gifts. Mereth pulled a small box from his cloak and handed it to Kylin.

         ”You didn’t think I would forget about you?” Mereth kissed her hand. Kylin looked at him questioningly. She pulled the ribbon off the box and took the lid off to reveal an amulet glittering in its’ case. “The jewel is said to have been mined from the dwarves in the mines of Gande. I wanted to find a jewel to match your beauty, but alas they had none. This was the closest I could find.”

         ”You flatter and spoil me too much.” She blushed.

         ”And you love every moment.” He whispered as he took her chin gently in his palm. “The proper thing to do would be to get permission from your father, but seeing as-“

         ”Kylin! Look at the presents Mereth has brought me. A new dagger and hunting cloak, my last was tattered from that tree climbing incident.” Darus laughed at the memory and went back to his gifts.

         Mereth pulled the amulet from its box and placed it around Kylin’s neck. “It suits you.”

         ”I- I’m not sure if I understand.”

         ”Just promise me you’ll think about it?” Mereth asked and waited for her to nod a yes. “And I bring news from Mahres. It seems you are wanted by the Council. I’ve already made arrangements for you and requested a squad from the palace guard to protect you on the trip.”

         ”You’re leaving?” Darus asked, poking his head into the conversation.

         ”It seems so. I’ll make arrangements for you to stay with the scholars at the palace. Even on horseback, I’ll be gone at least three weeks. Think you can stay out of trouble that long?” Kylin laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair.

         ”Can’t I come with you?”

         ”Not this time Dar,” Mereth answered for her. “This is serious business. The Council is no place for a child. Those sorcerers would sooner turn you to stone than look at you.”

         ”Not if I’m with Kylin. She’s stronger than all of them put together.”

         ”Not even on my best day.” She smiled and motioned to the library that was just off the sitting room. “Don’t you have studying to do?”

         Grumbling audibly, he marched heavy footed into the library. Picking up a book, he began reading in the dimness of twilight. Kylin summoned a few orbs of light and flicked them into each room on the lower level. They hung suspended, casting the soft natural light of the sun. She beckoned Mereth to the kitchen where she began preparing the evening meal. While he chopped and shredded, she combined everything into a thick stew. A loaf of sweet bread came from the pantry. It was a day old but something in the Rowan cabinetry made everything stay fresh for days longer than it should have. Last, there was a bowl of berries sprinkled with sugar. It was a simple meal, but filling nonetheless. Mereth rarely stayed for meals, but on the occasions that he did, the Merias family felt whole.

         ”I must bid you farewell now. I have packing to do.”

         ”You just came back from expedition and you’re leaving again? Will I see you when I return from Mahres?”

         ”I should hope so, I’m coming with you. Every squad needs a leader. We'll leave as soon as you're ready.”
A Non-Existent User
Mesella scampered over the desk and leapt energetically to some gold instrument or other, causing a pile of papers to slip and scatter all over the floor. Twisting her long serpentine body around, her claws scrabbled as she tried to find a foothold along the smooth polished side of the apparatus, managing to deftly pick out the shallowest of bolts and the smallest of lined ridges where plate met plate and worked her way upward, the slips and frantic movement of her limbs belying her many years of skill and liquidity. Finally scrambling upon the small ledge that held the many charts and viewing lenses she roughly squatted down and raised her torso upward, her eyes roughly coming in line with the viewer to the telescope. Although her eyes were a little too close together to see through it properly, she bobbed her head frantically from side to side, as if each eye were missing something profound if she did not keep in constant motion. “I don't know why you got this. When was the last time you used it?” Raising her head upward she examined the dust that had settled between the intricate lines and ridges of the telescope with disdain. “You should get a cleaner. You can afford that bunch of layabouts to guard this place from your paranoid delusions, but you can't even spare a coin for one of the old crones on the street of Mahres to run a duster around this place.”

“If you stare through that in broad daylight you'll blind yourself. Come down from there.” Mesella took one last disgusted look over the instrument before turning and leaping off landing on the arm that was outstretched in anticipation for her and coiling herself around Aelfred's neck, before laying her head on his shoulder and lazily looking down at the paperwork that he was looking through.

“You're getting weaker, your arm shook when I landed on it.” Mesella let her eyes slowly close, before opening them again and tilting her head away from Aelfred.

“Maybe you're just getting worse at jumping. Tomas carries you around far too much, you're getting lazy.”

“What are you reading?” The ferret said, arching her head forward and down to get a good look at the sprawled out documents, which covered most of his solid oak desk. Aelfred sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes, before glancing over to his familiar.

“Nothing important. Minutes from the old council meetings.” Aelfred said lifting a stray piece of paper in the air before exhaustedly returning it to the desk. “I don't even know if half of the names on the list are alive or dead.”

“Or if they're on his side.” Mesella said, thrashing her body impatiently.

“Then we must concentrate on those that we can rely on.”

“The Druid.” Mesella said. She liked very few humans, Tomas and his father, even though he was a little wet and even Aelfred she supposed, but the Druid was one that both she and Aelfred trusted with their lives – they already had done, if truth be told.

“Waywin and Lihanna, as well as Kylin of course.” Mesella jumped down upon the desk and coiled around lazily, looking up at Aelfred.

“I hope your trust is well placed.”

“All that matters is getting the Council back together again. If we lose our trust in others then it is all but destroyed.”

“What if he turns up?” Aelfred's eyes darted to Mesella who lay there still, as casually as though they had been discussing the weather.

“He wouldn't dare.”

“He never resigned or was dismissed so he still leads the Council, by protocol at least. He has as much right to be there as you.” Mesella said, finally stirring and raising her body up and peering toward the study door. “Besides, he always had a bent for the theatrical.”

“He wouldn't try anything in Council chambers.” Aelfred said, leaning back in his chair. “He may be powerful, but he could not match the combined might of Kylin and I, let alone the other mages.”

“What of the Witch?” The mere mention of the woman roused a rage in Aelfred. The Council had dispatched a small guard of mages to bring her back to them, after Aelfred spent several days convincing the Council not to have her killed at the request of the Druid. He would never forget the smell when he found their bodies. The three of them were contorted in pain and so charred that it was impossible to distinguish mage from mage and male from female. A post mortem yielded no results, as the limbs snapped and crumbled off under even the most delicate and precise hand, but there was no way that the Witch could have defeated his hand picked mages alone. It had to have been the Warlock, only he could have disabled them so that she could have indulged her sadism on them. He could almost hear the scratching of her knives on skin and the roaring of the flame as it melted flesh.

“He might turn up, but bring the Witch with the Druid in attendance? He would not be so foolish.”

“He is not the same man that you knew.”

“No Mesella, you're wrong.” Aelfred said with a smile. “If anything, he's exactly the same.” Mesella went to reply, but her ears suddenly started twitching and she turned back toward Aelfred.

“Tomas is coming.” Mesella shot around and lay on the desk, pretending to be sleeping. Aelfred suddenly busied himself in his work, or in those papers that the ferret wasn't covering.

“Hello Uncle.” Tomas bounded into the room, avoiding the piles of paper and instruments with the skill of one who had been there many times before and stood beside the desk with an eager smile on his face. “What are you doing?”

“Just doing a little reading.” Aelfred said, looking up from his paperwork and smiling warmly at his nephew. “How are you spending your day?”

“I was out walking by the lake. Father has been busy in the city trying to find work so I got pretty bored.” Tomas said, scratching his chin and glancing toward the floor.

“You should have said something. We can do something together later if you like.”

“It's alright. Father was going to supervise me working on the alchemy you were teaching me, but he got called away to the Guilds.”

“A blessing in disguise.” Mesella said, opening an eye and looking at Aelfred. “The man can barely drink a potion, much less make one.” Aelfred frowned and jabbed at Mesella's paw gently in chastisement, to which he got a lethargic squeak of annoyance in response. Tomas laughed softly and stroked Mesella.

“Father doesn't really like anything that cannot be hammered or hauled.” Tomas was the only other person apart from Aelfred and Kylin who could understand what Mesella said and with Kylin it took many years of being around the ferret to finally comprehend her. Tomas had to have some kind of empathy with magic, it just had yet to fully realise itself. Alchemy however was definitely not one of his strengths and as keen as he was to learn, Aelfred barely had enough time to be able to try and draw together the disparate strands of the Council, much less take on an apprentice.

“Tomas, I have a meeting with the Council of Mages tomorrow...”

“Right, don't touch anything and let the Captain answer the door.” Tomas said nodding to himself.

“Actually, I'd like you and your father to come with me.” Mesella's eyes opened and she looked at Aelfred in surprise, her hind leg beating against the desk like a hammer.

“Really? To a Council meeting?” Tomas said, his voice so high pitch he sounded like he was about to explode.

“Every mage has to attend one at least once in their life.” Aelfred said smiling.

“Thank you Uncle! I'll be on my best behaviour and I won't let you down! I don't think father will go though.”

“If he chooses not to, he'll be safe here with the guards.” Aelfred suspected that Tomas was right.

“I can't wait! I'm going to go and get a journal now so I can take minutes!” Tomas began to leave the room with a beaming smile on his face, much less skilfully than he entered it, disturbing the papers and some instruments as he went. A few seconds went by after he had left the room before Mesella stood up and looked at Aelfred.

“Is it wise to bring him to the meeting?”

“Perhaps not, but I want them where I can see them. I know how he works and I'm sure that he would dearly love to add Tomas to his collection.”

“But if he does attend what if he mentions...”

“He won't. Not in public. If he does attend however, I'll need the help of our allies more than ever. I shall talk to Kylin and the others on the wind and inform them of our plans. I only hope that they are willing to support me, or we may fail before we begin.” Mesella tilted her head and looked at Aelfred before scampering over and leaning her head upon his hand. Aelfred smiled tenderly and ran his thumb gently along his familiar's head.

“Why do I hate him so much.” Aelfred said softly.

“The strongest of hate is reserved for those that we once loved.” Mesella said, raising her head slowly. “You need that hatred, Aef. When you face him, you can't afford to have the time for hesitation or kindness. This is a war now and when the time comes, we will have to do what is necessary. Do you hate him enough to kill him?”

The Warlock had caused unimaginable pain to his family, stolen ancient tomes from the Council library and the evil ancient arts that he practised had been sensed by all those with even the smallest of magical aptitude. Aelfred was sure that he was behind the demise of the mages sent to bring back the Witch and given time he would no doubt rain a time of death and destruction upon Esylla. In spite of all this, he still had no answer for Mesella.

“Where do you suppose this belongs, Acario?”

The lump of charred flesh the woman’s gloved hand held up could have come from any cow or sow in the land.

“No where anymore. It looks more like something you’d find on a plate in a seedy tavern than something you just pulled out of a person.”

The shrike swooped down, perching on the paralyzed and charred body. It stirred at the weight, then again when Acario jabbed down with his beak to collect a particularly choice bit of meat cut to remain attached only weakly just for him. Callida’s eyes burned with an insane fire as she smiled down at the three moaning but immobilized forms. “Why I think you’re right, my little familiar. Into the discard pile.”

She laughed as she moved to the next helpless mage, then froze as she saw the woman’s face. “Acario, this one bears a remarkably unlucky resemblance to someone I know.”

The shrike finishes another piece of meat before rolling its head in a surprisingly human way. “You always find someone who looks like your sister. I’m sure someday your luck will run out.”

A blade flashed in the early morning light, the name “Petula” glowing bright orange as the Witch snarled and slashed.


****

The red-haired woman woke with a start at the voice in her head. Pleasant dreams?

She answered aloud, smiling. “Oh yes, master. Always.”

How goes your journey?

“I will be able to get through the wastelands with little difficulty. I have secured a guide.”

The laughter echoing in her head almost brought tears to her eyes, her smile widening further. Excellent. I will contact you again after the council has met. Burn well.

The woman’s voice was high and childish as the Warlock faded from her mind. “I will, master. Thank you.” She rose from her bed, a simple layering of blankets, and rolled it up into a more easily-carried shape, stowing it on the small pack she always carried on her longer trips. Acario swooped down to rest on her shoulder as she finished.

“This guide of yours is certainly valuable. He woke after only three pecks and has almost finished saddling up to ride your horse.”

Callida only kept smiling. She sauntered over to the slightly portly man with a graceful sweep of her traveling cloak to be sure she had his attention. “We will be moving faster today than yesterday. I am not paying you so much so that you may huff and puff behind me.” She looked over the saddle wryly. “I trust that your feet will be able to hold the pace?”

The voice that answered her was slightly wheezing. “Of course, milady. I will get you to Mahres in but a day!”

She turned and started walking, tightening the glove reaching up along her left arm and lifting her staff before Acario could comment on the utter absurdity of his boast. The Witch’s smile never faded, but the blowhard would not have been comforted by the expression. They journeyed uneventfully, the sun moving across the sky. Acario occasionally rose into the air to circle around them a few times, but there was little to distract them from their traveling. The wasteland was aptly called. Brown and gray ground, dirt and rock, with an occasional leafless tree stabbing out and up towards the bleak horizon. The only features of note were the forboding caves showing in the sides of many of the stones that had erupted up from the blasted landscape and the rare pools of the black sludge that passed for water in the cursed land. Callida rather liked it, striding with a slight skip in her step. “It’s a beautiful day today, isn’t it Acario?”

The shrike let out a short chirp, like a songbird, laughing at the woman’s words. “You always say that when you are going to be burning something, Mistress. Might our guide be earning his pay soon?”

Her laugh was answer enough, the portly man riding behind her starting to laugh along with her. She only laughed harder at the man’s attempt to seem more aware or friendly or whatever. He couldn’t understand Acario. Few would laugh -with- a woman who was talking to a chirruping bird.

She stopped in her tracks very suddenly, eyes darting to a cave to her side, about a dozen feet off. She narrowed her eyes, then let her smile return to normal as she called out. “Come, little ones. You must be curious. There is no need to ambush us farther down the trail.”

A group of small, twisted forms emerged from the cave, more coming from around several of the nearby stones. Their skin was dark gray, bland, and sickly in appearance. They wore little or no clothing, simple loincloths where they bothered at all, displaying the wiry but strong muscles covering their frames. Ranging anywhere from three to four feet tall, it was a particularly scarred one at about the mid-range in height that stepped forward and spoke with a scratching voice. “You drop things or we eat.”

Callida’s eyes burned brightly for an instant as she spoke a single word and pointed a finger at the goblin nearest the leader, a bolt of flame shooting into its chest and igniting it where it stood. It fell to the ground screaming and trying to douse itself, having no success. After a few moments of shock for everyone else, including the portly man on the horse, it ceased screaming or moving, crackling the only noise as burnt flesh filled everyone’s nostrils. “You will not have my possessions, nor will you eat me anyways once you’ve taken them. I have a very promising offer for you, however.”

The goblin shifted on its feet. It was dead whenever she wanted, and smart enough to know it. It was interested in any offer. “What thing you give? What thing I give?”

The Witch turned as the goblin spoke, her finger pointing at the man behind her this time. He screamed and fell back off the horse, making her smile widen again. “Bring the map.” He scrambled to his feet, reaching into the satchel on the horse and pulling out the rolled map, bringing it to her and placing it in her outstretched hand. Her voice was pure silk. “Thank you.” She then placed the edge of her staff against his chest lightly, and as he stared at her in confusion, spoke another word. He screamed again as fire engulfed his form, burning away clothing and skin for a few moments before going out, leaving him to fall to the ground, naked and charred and dying, though alive for the moment.

“I give this.” She opened the map. “And a great many more from all of these lands. You give nothing yet. You will give later.”

The goblin looked down at the man at the witch’s feet, licking his lips and laughing darkly. “You give. I take. You go.”

Acario chirped happily the rest of the trip, fluttering just above his mistress’s cloak as it billowed out behind her riding form.

****

Callida walked into Mahres without her pack or horse, both left just outside the city. Only the things she was certain she would need before the council meeting was over accompanied her. Her cloak hung heavily about her shoulders as she approached her first destination. “It is time to deliver a short message before the official version. Enjoy the show Acario.”

The shrike gave another of his laughs. “You certainly will. It isn’t often a good day in the middle of Mahres.” He took off then, watching as he usually did from a safe distance as the woman approached the entrance of a specific home. A pair of guards flanked the doorway, standing proudly in metal breastplates. She stopped as she came within arm’s reach, the two men exchanging confused looks that as she stood there whispering quietly rather than knocking. She reached out a hand to either side, lightly touching their arms before reaching her staff forward and drawing a pattern on the door. The trace she drew there started to glow as she finished it, then the door exploded inward in a shower of burning beams and splinters. The two guards were quick, one drawing a sword, the other shifting to swing a fist, but both of them screamed as flames erupted inside their armor, falling to the ground as the heat cooked them within the metal.

Callida smiled and crouched down slightly. “Just like little ovens. Marvelous.” She started cackling quietly as she ran into the home, throwing bolts of fire at the nearby furniture and furnishings and guards. Wood and faces burned, the Witch’s cackling growing louder as her eyes glowed brightly to match the growing fire. One guard managed to raise a crossbow, but as the bolt struck her cloak the garment burst into flames. She tossed it into his face, the cloth wrapping itself around his neck as it burned. She stopped for a moment as she reached a very specific room, clearly a study or laboratory of some kind.

It was a very advanced study, large and complicated in both its contents and organization. The Witch’s cackling only grew as she held out one fist, then extended all five fingers at once, bolts flying from each into a different stack of books or charts or scrolls. A quick glance at the alchemical supplies and potions in one corner and she turned to leave. She had barely stepped from the room before she ducked back inside, and axe striking the doorframe where her chest had been a second ago.

An enraged man came through the door, swinging again. She ducked this one, slipping around the man and sweeping his legs with her staff before continuing from the room. She spoke a word, the two sharpened ends of the wood igniting, and turned to look back into the room as the man got to his feet. She spoke another word of power, then threw the staff, the burning length accelerating to impossible speed as it left her hand, impaling the man and carrying him crashing through the window behind him before he fell from view. She started cackling again, running back through the house, hair wild as explosions ripped through the structure behind her wherever she went.

She stood outside a moment later, breathing heavily as she adjusted the cloak she’d taken from the stand just inside the doorway. Luck was still with her for it to be undamaged. Acario swooped back down to perch on her shoulder as she started to walk away. Shouts rang through the streets and eyes stared down at them from windows, more shocked at the violence than with any intention of doing anything. The shrike’s voice wasn’t worried, but curious. “Aren’t you concerned that you are simply walking away from a respected mage’s house just as it is burning to the ground?”

Her voice was disgusted, smile curling into a leer. “They are soft. They’ve gotten so used to being without any real pain that none of them are going to do anything to risk having to feel any now. We are just in time to show up fashionably late.”

The shrike gave another chirping laugh as she pulled a tiny bit of charred meat from one of the pockets in her dress with her gloved hand, tossing it up for him to catch.

****

The council chambers were exactly as she remembered them from the few times she’d seen them before. Acario shifted his weight comfortably on her shoulder as she spoke the word to open the doors, provided by her master. “I suspect you will find someone inside who bears the most uncanny resemblance to your sister you could ask for.”

Callida sneered, hair still wild and eyes smoldering. “I am here for my master. I will control myself. Her time will come later.” She strode into the chamber, gasps and a few outright cries coming from those seated there as she is recognized approaching. She glares at her sister, then turns her now only slightly-crazed smile on the council.


A soft ray of sunlight poked through the top of the forest canopy, its radiating beam landing directly on a singular flower, standing alone in the midst of tangled leaves and thorny brush. The flower had seven jagged petals, each dipped in scarlet. The center was strangely smooth and black, with dark amber strokes around the edge. It stood defiantly among the lush green of the forest, and as they traveled toward the Twin Cities, its presence greatly disturbed the seemingly placid elf.

Kneeling down, Gabriel stopped following his comrades to look at the crimson marvel. The dark brown of his irises deepened, overpowering the deep blue, as he strengthened his concentration. Though his eyes were closed, he could feel his mood heighten as red petals began to wither and the flower’s stem began to wilt. A soft mist of water condensed in the space above the flower, and when Gabriel opened his eyes, it evaporated into the air and vanished.

“Gabriel, we’re here,” a voice broke the eerie silence. Gabriel gradually turned to face one of his traveling companions, Evian Roth, who struggled to keep his expression void, though it was easy for the summoner to detect the unease that plagued him. They had traveled with their group from Lake Kalil, following the Alst Alana until they reached the edge of the forest near the Twin Cities. “Mahres is not far now, but we cannot accompany you much further.”

Gabriel nodded in understanding and slowly stood, not acknowledging the ominous act he had committed just seconds ago. He walked silently with his comrade as they went to join the group up further ahead. “What was that—that plant you…killed?” Roth asked carefully.

The summoner immediately halted and stepped in front of the younger elf. “I did not kill it,” he replied rather simply. “I deprived it of something vital for life.” He paused before adding, “There’s a difference.”

Clearly Roth did not understand, and Gabriel did not expect him to. Though he and several others were companions in a rogue group of elves, Gabriel had never fully connected with them. They could all relate and protect one another, each having had dangerously flirted with the tempting allure of dark magic, but he had always kept a safe distance between himself and the group. That distance was the lost truth of the past.

“It’s known as the Serce Lóte, meaning ‘Flower of Blood,’ which deals only with the plant’s color and is a bit misleading,” Gabriel explained calmly as he stepped aside and motioned for Roth to continue walking. “However, its original name is a slightly more fitting. Náre Losse, or ‘Blossom of Fire.”

“I’ve heard of that,” Roth said, disappointment quickly clouding his features as realization washed over him. “They’re resistant to fire and are nearly indestructible. They’re extremely rare. Why would you destroy such a treasure?”

“A treasure?” Gabriel questioned, his disposition clearly lightened as a small smile tugged at the edges of his mouth. They reached the rest of the group at the edge of the forest, where a clear gap exposed a small expanse of plains—the last portion of Gabriel’s journey to Mahres. Before stepping forward to join the others, Gabriel locked his eyes with his younger comrade. “I view it as a challenge.”

“This is where we must leave you,” Sieryn Moreau, the informal leader, said as she joined them, the rest of the group gathering where they stood. Each elf bid Gabriel farewell with the appropriate touch on the shoulder or arm, and a few were even allowed the privilege of a quick handshake or hug.

“I trust you know your way from here. You should be able to arrive on time, just as the messenger said,” Moreau instructed, handing him the reins to one of their horses. “To hasten your journey,” she indicated with a sincere, almost sad smile.

-----------

Gabriel’s shoulders tensed and his breathing stopped, a sinister sensation coursing through his veins as soon as he sensed the wretched woman’s unwelcome presence. He turned reluctantly, his gaze falling onto the crazed blue eyes and manic red hair of the witch. Though her burning stare was not directed at him yet. Instead, her eyes scanned the room, and for a brief moment they glared at the woman by his side. Though, it did not take long for Callida Valtin to look his way.

Instinctively, the young woman’s hand grasped Gabriel’s arm. He turned to face her worried yet hopeful expression. And against his nature and impulse to push her away, he placed his hand upon hers. “I wondered if she would come,” Keladry spoke softly, “but I did not expect it.”

Gabriel had heard his friend speak, but his mind was elsewhere. His senses were suddenly on overload as images of consuming flames engulfed his vision. The whispers and noises in the council room faded, only to be replaced by the sounds of agonizing cries echoing in his ears. He felt his stomach turn as his mind remembered all too clearly the overwhelming stench of writhing, burning flesh.

“Here let him sit down,” Aelfred’s familiar, deep voice said. Clearly, Gabriel’s legs had given up on him as he felt himself being ushered over towards a seat. Though he had not been inundated with full memories, the brief flashes affected him more than he had anticipated.

“I’m fine,” he snapped quietly as he pulled away from the prying hands of the council members. The meeting had barely started, and he was already garnering undesired attention. Gabriel took a moment to subdue his anger, finding a different image to calm his senses. And with great ease, he thought only of the dehydrated, withering form of the Náre Losse.

© Copyright 2008 Daizy, xx-xx, Ascetic of Words, Aiken4LOTR, (known as GROUP).
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