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Authors: Zac Atie

Draconic Testament (53 page)

BOOK: Draconic Testament
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An Inquisitor took an Oath of celibacy, and could sire no children during the time of his duty, and they were not allowed to make contact with their family. They swore many oaths, to promise to protect the weak and the world from evil and abominations, and would always stop to help someone in need, and to break these oaths was a dishonour to their name, which was important in Cazria due to the Draconic Testament, and could mean death. These oaths were necessary, because laying a hand on an Inquisitor was a death sentence itself, as it is for members of the Covenant, because laying a hand on an Inquisitor is laying a hand on the Dragon’s wishes. However, there times where they were allowed to go on break to see their family, and do what they liked, but they were few and far between. They could give up their service at any time, and go back to their families, as the inquisition is a harsh order, and rarely do Inquisitors do what they do with their pride intact. Elite Inquisitor Tundra was at a fort called ‘The Aquatic Vigil’, among Inquisitors whose current assignment was to scout the independent islands, and watch for Necromancers who have broken off from the Rebellion in Zolka. Usually, there were only few, but when there were large amounts, they had to call on help from the Independent Law forces. Recently, Draynar himself came and took care of a large amount of deserters unexpectantly, as Tundra had amassed forces to retake the airbase they had stolen. Tundra was loved by the men at the Vigil, some more deeply than others, as she displayed courage and honour not usually seen among Domini, and she had done an excellent job of keeping the Necromancers at bay. There were very few men at the Vigil defending the Zolkan end of the islands, and despite many pleas for more men by Tundra, her feats at defending the Vigil and the islands was always brought up as an excuse, saying the few men they had at the Inquisition were needed elsewhere, and that they had to depend on her skill. The Inquisition was not country specific, as is the Covenant and Sanctum, so they were spread out across the whole world. Tundra was looking through the scattered reports of the Rebellion when a knock came at her door. “Mother Tundra.” A voice came from outside her door.
“What is it?” She replied, not looking up from where she was studying the reports.
“Your new Apprentice has arrived.” The voice replied. Tundra groaned.
“Alright.” She said, stacking her reports and putting them away. “Let him in.” She walked over to the pillar in her room and leaned against it as the door opened. She had forgotten all about the recruit that was supposed to learn from her completely, she didn’t even know his name. She blinked in confusion when the boy was pushed into her room, and the door was shut behind him. “Err.” She almost stuttered. In front of her was a Halfling, well dressed in fine clothing. He had burnt skin around his left eye, and his hair above his eye was also singed. His head was facing the floor, though his eyes were on Tundra. After a few moments of neither of them saying anything, Tundra got up from the pillar and looking in her draw, pulling out the sealed envelope containing the details of her apprentice that she had buried away. She opened it and took a look at what she was dealing with.
“Polliver Valer Hollihorum.” Tundra stuttered, eyes squinted at the paper. “A mouthful, isn’t it?”
“M-m-my Cazrian friends call me, err... Polliver.” The boy stuttered back. His voice was high pitched and clumsy. “Young, aren’t you? Younger than I usually get.” Tundra sighed. “Oh boy, this is going to indeed be a drag. It says here that you’re from a rich family in Pontaron.”
“Y-Yes.” Polliver said. “My family is a, err... Merchants Guild. They deal in high quality materials that are made into ship parts for the... The famous Pontaron navy, mum. I mean, err, sister Tu- no, Mother Tundra.”
“Shh.” She hushed him. “Stop. Talking. Do you have something wrong with you?” Polliver shook his head. “So you’re just nervous. Cute.” Tundra took a quick read of his personality section. “It says you’re not good enough with maths to be a merchant like your half-siblings, but you’re extremely brave to the point of stupidity. Says here that you burnt your face while saving your stepmother from a fire in your house a month ago, and she would have been incinerated if you had not sacrificed your eye for her. Says you were sent here because you have no faith, and would have been sent to the Covenant if not for your bravery and hatred for... Domini?”
“Bandits. I don't like Bandits. They started the fire in my house, mother.” Polliver said.
“Most biographies are usually love letters from the parents, trying to kiss up to me. But this... This is a deliberate insult. Interesting. Oh, and it’s ‘Mother Tundra’.” She said. “But, just call me Tundra.”
“Yes, Miss.” He replied, making Tundra huff out a laugh.
“Amusing boy, aren’t you?” She asked.
“As you say, Miss.” He replied, bowing his head.
“Not much else on here, other than the fact that you’re bastard born.” She said, dropping the paper on her table and walking around the desk, eyeing him up. “Odd... A Halfling as an apprentice of a Elite Inquisitor... Are you sure you wouldn’t be better with the Covenant? Or perhaps, you can be an engineer’s appr-“
“No!” Polliver blurted out, then he lowered his head again, blushing. “Erm... I'm sorry, miss. But I want to hunt Bandits.”
“I don't hunt Bandits.” Tundra said. Polliver looked at her, puzzled. “Hunting mere bandits are for Initiates. Apprentices of Elite Inquisitors jump right up to a High Inquisitor, past the Rookie levels. You know why that is?”
“N...No...” The boy said.
“Being an apprentice of a Elite Inquisitor is supposed to be reserved for skilled swordsmen and sorcerers. However, they replace that with green, clueless, rich kids. They do this because nobody will notice, and it gets power on our side. Know why the parents send them?”
“N...No...” The boy replied again.
“Because the parents are lazy and have no idea what to do with them. Stories of old Inquisitors fighting evil for the good of Cazria comes to their minds, and they shoo off their precious sons and daughters to become an apprentice of the Elite Inquisitors, but not before telling them a bunch of tales about how great the elites are. Then, they fall in love with the idea, and becoming an apprentice becomes a bragging right in terms of their honour, even if they don't succeed.” Tundra said. “If they do succeed? They earn the title of ‘Vanguard’, which means they have proven their honour and are to be respected within society. Perhaps get invited to parties. That sort of thing. You’d think the Cazrians would find some other, less crazy way to earn renown for their kids throughout their ridiculously long years, the red-skinned fools.”
“I... I don't want that.” Polliver said. “I... I just want to protect people from bandits!”
“I
don't
hunt bandits.” Tundra said, poking his chest, face close to his. “Want to know what I do all day?”
“What?” He asked, blushing.
“I sit around doing nothing. I read through reports constantly. I am named head of forts that might as well be nameless, as nobody knows anything about them. I, Elite Inquisitor Tundra, famous for being the only Domini Elite Inquisitor in the history of this organisation, am tasked with nothing. I even get false reports of Maleficarum sent to me, wasting my time.” She spits, pacing round the room in anger.
“Maleficarum?” Polliver asked. “What’s that?” The question made Tundra stop, look at Polliver and chuckle. The chuckle turned into a roar of laughter. “How green are you? You’ll last shorter than that one lad who fell in love with a succubus.”
“A... Succubus?” Polliver asked again, rubbing his damaged eye. Tundra sighed.
“Maleficarum are a special type of Forbidden Sorcerer, even more dangerous than Warlocks. Well, not them themselves, but their magic. They connect themselves to the Null and Void, that floating rock of demon filth out there, and summon the demons to this world for whatever reason. The strong ones bind demons to their will, and the weak die trying, sometimes accidently creating rifts for the demons to cross over through. That’s the sort of thing I'm sent up against.” Tundra said. “Well, not me. More like other Elite Inquisitors. Even though I have proven that I'm not like my ignorant brothers and sisters over there in Zolka, I'm still discriminated against. Sure, I get sent a bunch of people who are enamoured with me, but they never last.”
“They never last?” Polliver asked. “But... You’re strong.”
“Strong, yes. But that’s my strength, not theirs. They are all weak, and they have no idea what they are up against. They all get hit with reality, and slaughtered whenever I'm sent against something that actually moves instead of being put on guard duty. Poor things. They all come to me, blushing and saying how beautiful I am. Some even try to crawl their ways into my bed, the fools. Well, some succeeded.” She laughed, noticing him grimace. “B... But you’re not allowed!” Polliver groaned.
“I’ll do what I want.” Tundra huffed. “If the Circle respected my skills, I’d respect their rules. I was only kidding about actually letting them seduce me, anyhow. I'm not like the last boy I had as an apprentice. Pfft.”
“A-As you say, miss. What... What should I do? I mean, I can fight!” Polliver said.
“With what, Zaranyte?” Tundra asked.
“Y-Yes. Zaranyte Swords... and guns, too!” Polliver blurted. Tundra sighed, and thought about it for a few moments. “Alright.” She said, smiling. Polliver smiled too, until she said, “You’ll handle the reports. Throw away everything except for the new, major Warlocks. I want their names, age, location and anything special about them written down. Also, there’s a textbook over there about Warlocks and Maleficarum, as well as the history of our order, read them. If we ever get a mission, you’ll need that knowledge.”
“Oh...” Polliver said, disappointed. “I... Uh...”
“I'm going out for a walk. Do a good job, kiddo.” She chuckled, ruffling the scruffy boy’s hair. It was soft, apart for the long, singed part of his hair, which was still present for whatever reason.
Tundra was patrolling the town square of a nearby town named ‘Valfor’. The lord here sent constant messages to the vigil, scared of impending attacks, saying that there was Warlocks all around him. Tundra thought he was mad with paranoia, as she detected to malice among the people of Valfor. The Aquatic isles made a big deal out of the water that surrounded them, as it was clear and clean, teeming with life. There was ice sculptures made perfectly, and water shows all around the town, and everybody was happy and friendly to one another. However, when they saw her, they moved aside and wiped the smiles of their faces, scared to death that she was a Warlock. She could feel them whispering all around her, the fear in their voices. That was how she could tell there were no Warlocks hiding amongst the townsfolk. She had spent a lot of time around evil people, so she didn’t even need to feel their Aura’s with her tentacles. A Domini’s tentacles could sense all sort of Magic, where it was coming from, the nature of the magic, far better than a Cazrian’s Hollow Sight. There was no need for her to close her eyes to sense such things. Before leaving the Vigil, she had left word that she would be in town, and that someone should contact her immediately if there was word of Warlocks, or word from the Circle of Zealots, the Councillors of the Inquisition who took orders from the Grand Inquisitor. She found herself walking through the town, window shopping without actually examining any of the items she saw. She was just thinking to herself, while trying to blend in. Tundra was very insecure about her race. She found herself thinking of her place within the Inquisition. “They all fear me. Or Loathe me.” She murmured to herself. “I don't see why I should stay. I’ll never get any more famous than I am now... I'm never going to find her... I should find a husband somewhere... but where? I hold the teaching rather dear. I hate Warlocks, and most Domini agree with the Dreadlord in silence. I won’t find a husband anywhere. There isn’t a place for me.” Then she found herself thinking of Polliver. She chuckled. “I’ve left the boy to do my work for me. That was mean. I should try to tutor him like I did with the others... but what’s the point? They are all young, all rash, and all foolish. They get themselves killed. Perhaps having half Ispii blood would make him more aware of foul play, or how to deal with it. How is he to fight Maleficarum being as green as he is now? Oh, Polliver. You should go home.” In the corner of her eye, she sees a reflection in the mirror. A hooded figure in a foul smelling rag, though she didn’t smell it. She whirled, to find nobody there. Her sudden movement startled passers-by, one even gasped and shuffled away as fast as they could. Tundra did the same, hands shaking. “No, not again.” She sobbed. “Not now. Why? That damned Adda’Gorath. Damn him to the void!” Eventually, she found herself whirling into alleyways, checking behind her at every step. She stumbles over rags, and turns corners... Then, after a couple of minutes, she realises she’s still in the alleyways. She stops, and turns, looking around. “How many damned alleys are there here?” She asks, herself. “This... Isn’t right.”
“What is?” A voice asked. She whirled in the direction of it, and the smell hit her. It smelled of death, blood, and bile. A hooded figure in brown, dirty rags, hood reaching all the way to his upper lip. His lips, and teeth, were coated with blood, and smiling evilly, it’s Domini teeth sharp as Tundra’s, only some were cracked and broken. “No. What the hell are you doing here? Leave me be!”
“Is that anyway to talk to your friend?” The voice asked, turning feminine.
“You’re not Mirage!” She hissed. “She’s out there somewhere!”
“You ran from me. You left me.” Mirage said. “My father cut me down, and what did you do?”
“You... Mirage was stronger than that! She survived, I know it!” She hissed. “I won’t listen to you! I’m stronger!”
“Oh?” A male voice said. “If you were stronger, you’d have been able to fight me off for all those years you spent as my toy. Hahaha!”

BOOK: Draconic Testament
2.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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