Forgotten Mage (29 page)

Bren decided that working himself up
would get him nowhere. Laying down on the, cot he found that while
not comfortable, it was better than sleeping on the
ground.

Why don’t you just break
out?

Bren thought about it for a moment,
then shook his head. “If I did that, things could escalate quickly.
I need to carefully plan out my next move.”

Well, I will give you
credit. You think farther ahead than you father ever did. Well, I
won’t say that. He often thought ahead, it was just that when the
time came, he usually forgot all of his plans and did whatever came
to mind.

Bren could almost swear that Thuraman
was laughing. He didn’t know why, but the idea that the staff had a
sense of humor seemed to bother him. Bren didn’t know how long he
would have to wait, but he knew that he was tired, and thinking
when one was exhausted was never good. Closing his eyes, Bren let
himself drift off to sleep, happy in the knowledge that the Weapons
Master couldn’t punish him for not being present in the
morning.

Bren woke to the sound of a soft
metallic click. Letting his eyes slip open only a small amount,
Bren could see the door to his cell slide open. As muffled
footsteps hit his ears, Bren saw two pair of legs, both wearing
some tight leggings. “Looks like the mages have done most of the
work for us,” A soft voice whispered in the dark.

“Thuraman,” Bren called his staff in
his mind.

I think this is the first
time you ever called me. What is the special occasion?

“I think the Brotherhood assassins are
in the cell with me,” Bren said, trying to act calm even though his
heart was beating so fast he thought it might jump out of his
chest.

The room was so quiet, Bren could hear
as the dagger was raised into the air above him. Holding his
Breath, Bren called for Thuraman again, this time as soon as the
name entered his mind, he could feel the cold wood of the staff
fill his hand.

The sound of the dagger made a soft
whistling sound as it descended. Bren rolled to the side and
pressed his body tight against the wall. The dagger passed only
inches in front of him, digging deep into the thin mattress of the
cot and into the wood below.

Bracing himself against the wall, Bren
kicked out with his left foot, catching his attacker right above
the wrist. A loud popping sound was immediately followed by the
sound of the man’s screams, as his knees buckled and he fell toward
the ground. His forehead catching the edge of the cot with a loud
thud.

Not wasting time to celebrate his
success, Bren jumped up from his resting place, landing on the
ground next to the downed man who was moaning softly.

The other man was already on guard and
quickly struck with his own weapon. Acting quickly, Bren blocked
with his staff. The assassins didn’t seem daunted by the fact Bren
had a weapon and continued his attacks, one of them catching Bren
in the arm, cutting a thin slash along his arm.

Bren’s eyes flashed as he stepped back,
allowing the assassin to come in close, his dagger coming in
straight for Bren’s chest. As the tip of the dagger pierced his
skin, Bren’s body felt hot and his sight began to blur. Bren could
barely hear the scream of the assassin, as everything around him
seemed to warp and expand. A loud roar erupted in his ears as the
area around him was filled with a red mist, as the man in front of
him exploded.

As everything calmed down, Bren looked
down at his body. He was now covered in dark blood. Bren felt his
stomach lurch before he found himself doubled over on, the contents
of his stomach spraying the ground.

Bren found himself curled up in a ball,
crying as more forms rushed into the room. Some of them he could
hear talking, though he couldn’t make out their words.

He felt as someone jerked him up and
pulled him out of the cell. He tried to resist, but he had no
strength left in his body to fight. He knew that he had used a vast
amount of magic, and his hand still burned red hot as it had any
other time he had done so. The last thing Bren remembered before he
drifted off into unconsciousness was the feeling of cold water
being poured over him. It made him shiver, but felt strangely
cleansing as he drifted off to sleep.

It would seem that you were right about
your son,” Humanius said, his voice sounding more curious then
angry. “Hopefully, I can still get him before he progresses too
far.”

“I honestly thought you would be more
disappointed in the failure,” Thad said, confused by Humanius’s
actions.

“While I care what happens to the
world, I have placed it in the hands of my followers. If they fail,
the world will end. If they succeed, it would continue to live for
a time.”

“In the end, you are saying that no
matter what happens, the veil will fall,” Thad said, his ire
raging. “Then why are you so adamant to kill my son? Why not
prepare your followers for what will happen once it falls instead
of trying to prolong the inevitable?” Thad asked, his voice raising
with each word.

“The more I interfere with the world,
the faster the veil will fall. I can only send images to my people,
and even those are broken and weak. Though with each passing year,
it becomes easier and easier as the veil continues to fail,”
Humanius said in a contemplative tone. “Maybe I should prepare
them, but I don’t think they would easily change their way of life.
They have founded a religion out of the hatred of anything magical,
and I doubt they could ever work alongside mages and the magical
races, or the other way around.

“So you continue this even though you
know that it will change nothing?” Thad asked, now yelling at the
top of his lungs, as his hands gripped for his sword that he wished
still hung at his side even though he knew that nothing he could do
would harm the god.

“We must each play our part and follow
what we believe to be right. I do not go after your son just
because he threatens the veil, but his very existence threatens the
balance of the entire ether.”

“If that is true, then yours threatens
the same balance,” Thad said with fire in his yes.

“That is true, but if I were to allow
myself to die, then there would be no one to keep my sister in
check. I could kill my sister, but each time I have come close to
doing so, I could not bring myself to follow through,” Humanius’s
words were soft and contemplative, giving Thad pause in his anger.
“As much as you think of us as gods, we were people once, and in a
very real sense, we still are. We have emotions…if we did not, then
how could we care about revenge and peace. You gave us the title of
god and we have played it well, but we are still just beings who
must do the best with the hands we are dealt. The only real
difference, is the power we wield and the knowledge we have gained
throughout the endless years of life on this world.”

Thad found himself sitting on the
ground, staring aimlessly at the portal, watching as his son slept
on the bed. “What would his son become, should he come into his
full power?” Thad asked himself. After meeting Humanius, he didn’t
like following the line of thought.

CHAPTER XXIV

Bren awoke in the familiar bed in the
medical ward. Almost afraid of what he would find, Bren looked down
at his arm and was happy to see that all of the blood was gone.
Even thinking about what had happened the night before made his
stomach churn.

“I see you are awake,” Bren heard a
soft voice say from the door. Turning, he saw Master Carnear
standing there, with a bemused smile on her face. “Sae-Thae did say
that you could be a handful, but I didn’t expect all of this from
you in a single day. Not only did you challenge the council, you
rid the Tower of the assassins.”

“How do you know there are not more
assassins?” Bren asked, his voice coming out harsh as the words
seemed to stick in his mouth.

“The alarm that your father placed not
only notifies us that someone with a brotherhood sword has entered
the country, but also a second one sounds when there are no more of
the swords within the boundaries of the country. Once the two
daggers of the men you killed last night were placed outside of the
border, the all clear alarm sounded. That is not to say that others
are not around, there could be plenty after your life that do not
hold brotherhood steel,” master Carnear added with a wry
smile.

“That is very reassuring,” Bren
replied, a slight shiver ran down his spine.

“I thought I would be here to greet you
when you woke,” Carnear said, her face taking on a serious tone.
“The council has been busy in the two days since the incident in
the dungeons. They have started solidifying their strength within
the human side of town.”

“What are they planning?” Bren asked,
suddenly setting up in bed.

“They know that I support master
Sae-Thae and don’t approve of many of their actions, so they
haven’t let me in on much. I can only go by hearsay, but it would
seem as if they plan to overthrow you in a sense. Take the country
that you have claimed as your own and claim it as free land…Or so
they say. What they really plan to do is make it where everything
within the lands is under the direct control of the Tower and
therefore the council.”

“What can I do?” Bren said, more to
himself than to Master Carnear.

“If it were me, the first thing would
do is get out of the Tower,” Master Carnear said in an offhanded
manner as she turned to leave the room. “If I know the other
masters, they will have you taken back to the dungeon as soon as
they know you are awake.” Bren noticed that as Master Carnear left,
she placed something against the wall.

If I were you, I would take
her advice. Unless you enjoy dark, dank places.

Bren looked at his sword that sat
against the wall, where Carnear had placed it. If Thuraman was
agreeing with a female, then it must be good advice. Sighing, Bren
stood up from the bed, his head spinning slightly. Steading
himself, Bren called for Thuraman and the staff appeared in his
hand.

Leaning heavily on Thuraman, Bren bent
down carefully and picked up his sword. The sword looked a little
odd seeing that Bren only wore a thin gown, but he didn’t see his
clothing anywhere. He wished that Carnear had seen fit to bring his
clothes along with his sword.

Bren moved as quietly as he could,
making sure to stay out of the sight of any passing mages and
guards that walked the halls. It was hard and meant that Bren spent
more time hiding than moving along the crowded
corridors.

As soon as he was outside, Bren
quickened his pace, but soon found that his body couldn’t take the
added strain. He was still weak and he could tell that his body was
already nearing its limits. He didn’t know if he could make it all
the way to the training grounds, but it was the only place that he
could think of to go.

Bren barely noticed that the sun was
well over halfway through its arc in the sky as he meandered
through the streets. Weak and dehydrated, Bren lost track of
everything as he waked along, pulling himself by sheer will, until
he heard the sounds of metal on metal coming from the practice
field

“Weapons Master!” Bren tried to yell,
but it came out as more of a whisper. Stumbling, Bren fell to his
knees as he stumbled on a large rock in the corner of the
field.

“Bren, is that you?” Bren head a voice
say, but couldn’t find the strength to look up at the speaker, nor
could he get his voice to work to talk. Trying his best, Bren tried
to pull himself up, but the last of his strength failed him and he
fell face first to the ground.

“Get him some water,” Bren heard the
loud and stern voice of the Weapons Master yell, as someone pulled
him to his feet. He helped him over to a cool shaded place under
one of the few trees that decorated the training
grounds.

Bren tried to grasp the earthenware
cup, but his hand was shaking so bad that he had to have help
drinking. Bren felt ashamed at his own weakness, but didn’t try to
fight the help as the cool water touched his lips. After the third
cup, he was still shaking slightly, but he felt much better and his
throat no longer itched.

“I heard that they had you locked away
in the dungeon,” Jacob said, refilling Bren’s cup with more cool
water.

“Assassins… medical…ran,” Bren said,
the words no longer hurting his throat, but his mind still fuzzy
and disorientated from weakness.

“Allay your fears Bren, I promise that
no one from the Tower can reach you here. They could try, but this
is considered the sovereign ground of Rane. They would find
themselves in dire trouble if they tried,” The Weapons Master said
in a reassuring tone. “Flynn, William, take Bren inside and make
sure that he drinks plenty of broth. I don’t see how he could get
this weak in a few days, even without food. It looks as if the
mages have starved him for more than a week, not simply a few
days.”

“He might have used his magic,” Bren
heard Flynn’s voice say, as he was lifted from the ground. “I once
saw him use a large amount and he looked drained. As if he had
worked for two days straight. The boy ate an armies worth of
rations in a few minutes afterwards.”