Creators Guild: A Wizard's Beginning (27 page)

             
Sitting in his room, Roland could sense that something was wrong that something was different in the room. He couldn’t tell what, but he had the constant feeling of being watched.  He had examined the room several times but found nothing.  He now sat on his bed, paranoid and stressed about the events that had taken place that day.

             
Never before had he lost control like he did today, he was beginning to think that he was not prepared to continue learning, how many people’s lives would he put in danger.  His mind was tormented by the events of the day.  Thinking now that he had punished himself more than any wizard could have done.

             
There was a small knock on the door. He sat up on his bed as the person walked in, seeing that it was Tillera he relaxed. They had become quick friends throughout the training; gleaning information off of one another and helping the other learn the magic of the marklons.  She was the first one he remembered seeing after his trance both times, it was through her friendship that he was able to keep going.

             
He smiled as she came to him, taking a seat on the bed, the soft glow of the fire playing off her deep brown eyes. Her hair was pulled back into a braid as she normally wore it; this helped to keep it out of the way while working the elements.  Her smile lighted his heart now in a way that it had not been done for a long time.  They just sat there looking into each other’s eyes, enjoying the quiet, contemplating on the tragic events of the day.

             
He had never realized how beautiful she really was, seeing as they were not encouraged to seek relationships until they were completely through with their training, the thought being that they would lose concentration or not be able to accomplish the things that were required of them.  And then came the point of leaving as the journeys do, living a life of solitude until they have learned all the necessary steps to become a wizard.

             
“Roland, what happened today? This isn’t like you, I’ve seen how well you work with the elements?” she asked, placing a hand on his knee, a look of stress and worry wrinkling her beautiful face.

             
“I…I really don’t know, it’s like someone else has been in my mind, controlling my thoughts, it scares me. I mean, it’s like someone or something has been watching me, controlling me.  At times I don’t know where I stop and they start.  It’s been that way since I had the perrimon ring.”

             
“Have you told anyone else this?”

             
“No, you’re the first. I mean you probably think I’m crazy and all, but it’s real, something happened when I was studying with the perrimon ring and it’s almost happened with this one,” he said rubbing his fingers over the ring.  “What I’m about to tell you stays between us, if anyone ever found out I’d probably get thrown out, or worse yet, locked away for being a danger.”  He looked at her with serious eyes, seeing the look of confusion mixed with fear, doubting himself on whether or not he should really tell her now.

             
“What happened to you?” concern heavy in her voice.  “I have been studying the ring myself yet nothing has been different, the sensations are primarily the same, a little stronger maybe.”

             
He thought for a few minutes, considering what could happen if she did tell someone, could he truly trust her. He valued her friendship, however with everything that seemed to be happening to him, he found himself doubting his own judgment. Would it be worth the risk to tell her? What would she think if he was to open himself up to her in that way?  Her eyes seemed to bare the worry for him. He could almost feel the need to trust someone so strong, was she the one to confide in.

             
He turned his head to remove his eyes from hers. He couldn’t bear to bring her into this, he couldn’t allow someone else to carry the fear and dread that he now did.  He was on the verge of losing control of his emotions, his eyes already watering up with tears, his hands shaking. He could feel the tremors moving up through his body.  Breaking down he sobbed like a child, all the embarrassment leaving, he didn’t care anymore he could no longer hold it in.

             
“Roland, I understand that you may not want to trust me with this, but I’m here for you,” she told him, taking him in her arms, letting him cry on her shoulder.  As if nothing was wrong she began to chant a spell of peace to him, whispering in his ear.

             
Slowly the tears began to slow down, his breathing becoming more even. It didn’t take long before he was asleep.  She laid him on the bed, covering him up; she stoked the fire and took a seat on the sofa in front of it.  She knew he would sleep for a few hours, but when he woke up she would be there for him thinking that this would hopefully build enough trust that he would confide his fears in her.

*      *       *

              “Find him, he must not survive, if the boy lives we all die,” shouted Maglon, slamming his black gauntleted fist on the table. It had been months since they started dedicating the time to look for the guardians.  Word had come through the rats’ nest that the gifted one had been found, the one that had the power and potential to destroy the Legion.

             
He walked around the smoke filled room. A large stone table sat in the middle of the room, large stone chairs carved from the same stone sat around it.  The small wall sconces hanging from the small pillars, the flames that burned in them let off an acrid smoke that burned the lungs.  The hard stone chairs were filled with the black lords, none dared to speak out of fear of Maglon, and they knew he was in the mood to kill.

             
“I don’t think that you understand the potential danger that the guardians pose to us, especially the one they call the changeling, together with the bringer of light they can destroy us.”

             
“High Lord Maglon, we know who the bringer of light is, we know his abilities, all we have to do is give the order and he dies, then we have nothing to worry about,” said Lord Albitren the seeker of knowledge.

             
There was a knock on the door when it opened a small goblin walked in. Everyone at the table turned to look at him, disgust covering their faces.  Goblins were enslaved by many of the Legion, thought of as something below scum.  Mikkno was the personal slave to Maglon.  The High Lord knew this had to be important to be disturbed as he sat in council; disruption of this sort was punishable by instant death. Mikkno handed him a sheet of paper and waited for the response.  Maglon read the note, a small smile twisted face; finally something good was happening.

             
“Show him to the map room, let him know that I’ll be with him shortly,” he told the goblin. This is who he had been waiting for now for weeks. “This meeting is over; I have more important business to see too. I want a report in the morning on what has been discussed, if you fail me in this you will all regret the day your mothers forced you from her womb.”  With that he left the room. With the slamming of the door the flames in the sconces flashed higher and then went out, leaving the room in ominous black.

Chapter 1
7

Dark Plans Laid

                   er gave a quick wave of his hand, the lights coming back on. Everyone looked around the room at the others, no one wishing to speak.  When they had been summoned to the stone room they knew the day would not be very pleasant.  They had been told to find the changeling, so far they had found nothing; their servants had searched all around the house of learning.

             
“I want a full report from every ear, there has to be something here we can use. A person does not just fall off the face of the world,” he shouted.

             
Everyone stood, glares between each one freezing the room. Alliances were being broken down and the fear of the High Lord rested within each of their hearts.  They all knew what he was capable of, having watched him torture a spy of the Order.  They all cringed knowing there was no mercy left in his stone heart.

             
Night maskers flew from the tower tops that night, going to their destined carriers. There was no moon that night; the sky was covered in dark ominous clouds a feeling of death and fear in the air.  Ter stood at his window watching as the maskers flew, wondering who it was that brought a smile to the High Lords lips.  This new event was something to keep track of, changes were coming and if he wasn’t careful his place of power and prestige within the legion would crumble, he had worked too hard for that to happen. A quick flick of the wrist brought the minsker to him.

             
“Go my little friend, find out what the High Lord is planning, find who has come into our midst and what manner of a threat it may be,” with that it was gone.

             
The minsker was a personal creation of Ters, a personal spy that could travel anywhere within the dark tower, Ter had used it many times before to find the hidden plots. That’s how he had been able to rise to his current position so quickly.  The idea that the High Lord was bringing in outside help was not a very encouraging sign for him.

             
His thoughts wandered to the meeting that had taken place as he waited for the minsker to get to its destination.  The reports had been there, the changeling has been chosen. It had been months since his spy within the house had sent word, the news so vague and unclear.  The young man was nothing merely a pawn in his great plan to remove the High Lord, but he had not reported back since sending the message.  His heart was not troubled for him, if he died he died there were more willing to serve his needs.

             
The minsker was now in place and he could hear perfectly, the images a bit distorted but the message coming clear. He sat back placing his full attention what the Maglon was doing.

             
“I am not accustomed to waiting,” said the gruff voice of the man Maglon was meeting with.

             
“Sit down; I have a situation that I feel only your people can solve. You are familiar with the great battle prophesy, I would assume.”

             
“Yes, it’s tradition that each leader learn of the ancestors, and of the foretelling why is it of any concern of yours wizard,” he said with an indolent sneer.

             
“We have found the bringer of light or as you call him, the shadow killer. He is with the in the house of learning. We have been watching him, looking for his weaknesses, and so far we have a good one.  The order has advanced him too quickly, he doesn’t know how to control the power; he is losing himself in it too often.”

             
“So what does all this have to do with my people anyway? You said it was an urgent matter of business, you are trying my patience wizard.”

             
“There is a matter of delicate importance that needs your attention. We have a spy within the grolians; it wasn’t easy as they are destined to become the guardians of the wizards.  There has been one that has left and we do not know where he went. There is rumor that he has joined the guardians, if this is true, we must find them.  Amongst them is the changeling, without destroying both the changeling and the bringer of light everything will be lost. It is more than just killing them; they must die in my presence so that I may capture their souls, preventing them from ever returning.”

             
“I see, and where would we chance on finding this changeling?”

             
“The last he was seen or heard from was with the guardians in the Krenorian forest, that is where I suggest you look first, if this ‘changeling’ is not found and brought to me, then I fear we have no hope.”

             
“Consider the matter, shall we say finished.”

             
“Remember, you are not to kill him, it is imperative that he is brought back to me, and Illian remember this. If you fail me, you will wish your grandmother never set eyes on your grandfather. Failure is not an option and no excuses will save you from my wrath, do I make myself clear?”

             
“Don’t threaten me wizard,” he said slamming his fist on the table, a fire burning deep within his eyes, “I do not take kindly to threats, not even from a wizard.”

             
As he said this he felt the pressure building around him, squeezing the air in his lungs feeling as though they were on fire. Sweat was forming on his brow, the intense feeling as though his insides were being pushed through his head.  He couldn’t move, his arms held at his side, he began to rise off the floor, no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get away.

             
“Now listen to me, you may be the ruler of a land and feared on both sides of the Marian Mountains. But you will learn to fear me. I have the power to destroy you with a mere thought, is that understood? Insolence will not be tolerated, and you will find I have very little patience for failure.”

             
All Illian could do was shake his head and whimper the answer. Never before had he feared for his life as he did then. With his reply the pressure was gone and he fell to the ground gasping for breath.  Wiping the sweat from his brow, he knelt there on the ground, anger and fear mixing and filing his soul.  He knew he could do nothing now to repay the wizard for what he had done, but there would be chances in the future.

             
“There is a room for you; dinner will be brought to you. Remember I want to introduce you to the black lords tomorrow, get some rest. I want you to be ready to sign the treaty in front of them tomorrow.”

             
Maglon left the room with a smile on his face; he knew that Illian would not be convinced easily. But taking the man’s dignity like that, showing him the power that can be wielded was one way he knew that the most feared man in the roughest lands would bend to his will.  The events now set in motion; he knew he could finally rest for the night. It wasn’t going to be easy to show the black lords how important this alliance was to their success.  But that will be a challenge for a new day.

             
The room was deathly quiet; no one wanted or dared to speak as the High Lord could show up at any time. Everyone’s face was showing the same anticipation wondering who this all-important visitor was.  That was everyone but Ters, after the meeting yesterday he had learned more than he could have ever imagined.  The High Lord must be getting desperate if he was now looking for outside help.  Never before had the Dark Tower sought out the help of simple folk.  He had been able to plan ahead for this meeting, if everything worked out now he would soon be in the ultimate position of power.

             
The door flew open smashing against the stone wall, pieces of wood and stone flying around, everyone startled by the sudden entrance.  Maglon came into the room, his robes of power and authority fluttering around as if being blown by a strong wind. With no windows there was not even a cooling breeze, he used this to show his power to the other black lords.  The room was silenced by Maglons presence; the looming look of murder and betrayal crossed his face.

             
“What news do you have for me today?” he asked a smirk on his face. He knew full well that none of them had anything for him; his own network of spies had ensured that. He needed each one of his underlings to fear what he was going to do. Looking around the room he knew that he had their attention, the pale blank look on their faces was enough to reveal this.

             
“I have something, my Lord,” said Ters. A look of defiance and mischief crossed his face.  He knew he had the High Lord now and that knowledge gave him certain power over Maglon.

             
“Speak then,” every eye turning to Ter, the High Lord’s patience was thin and this insolence was quickly wearing on him.

             
“An outsider has been admitted into our presence, a man of simple worth to us, one who this, our High Lord, thinks can outdo each one of us, people of power and magic.  The High Lord I know has summoned this, this man, this wretch from the outer lands to do what we, those born of authority have been unable to do.  He has betrayed our trust by not bringing this to the council, but has worked by his own volition; this is not the sign of one who should be our leader. His mind and will are weak. I say it is time to remove this insolent man from among us.”

             
The members of the council looked around at each other talking. Maglon had been in the high seat for so long that no one knew what to do now. They had trusted him, although the trust was one out of fear and deceit. With the news, that he had violated one of the longest unwritten codes of silence was unpardonable. 

             
Maglon stood there, his face a stone, his hands rolling into fists wound so tight that his knuckles were turning white his long finger nails digging into his palms.  This information was not supposed to be known. This made what he had to do a little more challenging, the element of surprise was gone but it eased his mind, although it would make it more difficult to explain.

             
Ter stood there, defiance on his face, holding back the smile that was inside, his blood boiling from the excitement. Had he not been thinking more on what he was to do next, he would have seen Maglons hands flying up, night fire flying through the air at him. Everyone went down, as the line of flame hit the wall, tearing a large hole through it.  Everyone slowly stood up a wizards guard around themselves. Maglon and Ter stood staring each other down.

             
Clapping coming from the doorway brought everyone around. Standing there was Illian, a look of amusement and defiance making the double scars across his face contort his smile. The tension in the room grew as they realized that this must be who Ter had been talking about.  He walked into the room, arrogance emanating from him.

             
“So this is how the ‘supposed,’ most powerful men and women in the world, spend the day, bickering and quarreling like a couple of pompous children. How are you supposed to get anything done?” he yelled.

             
“Now listen, I’m Illian, and yes Maglon has summoned me here, and I see why. Your enemy is not out there somewhere looking to destroy you, its right here amongst yourselves.  How is it that you fight amongst yourselves when death for you is imminent and yet you do nothing?”

             
Everyone stood there, the contention still strong, the feelings of hatred and betrayal hanging heavily in the air. Yet they knew that Illian was right. If they didn’t do anything they would all be dead.  Ter stood there, still angry with Illian, releasing the power along with everyone else.  Maglon took the lead, straightening his robes.

             
“Now take a seat, we have matters to attend to,” he told them, each one sitting down, still weary of both Maglon and Ter. “This is Illian, Leader of the Tower Warriors, the undisputed leading clan of the rouge lands, and yes I did summon him to our cause. They in essence have as much to lose as we do.”

             
“What is it that they can do that we cannot?” asked one of the council, “what purpose will they serve for us?”

             
“He has many more people at his disposal, there task as I have discussed with him, is solely to find and bring the changeling to me. Aside from this they will cause general discord and havoc among the peasants. The war that we have been orchestrating will now come to its most deadly season.  The royal brigade will not know what has hit them, and with their help we will be able to move quietly in the background.”