Interlude

In the centre of Fae sat the primary gate to the Dark, an immense hole that plunged into the depths, its bottom never reached as it fell into a maelstrom. A massive storm of mana and natural forces that hurt the eyes to look at. Lightning sparked from one side to another, bright flashes that illuminated the sides of the hole, streaks of silver plunging down into a swirling whirlpool of clouds. Those foolish to look into with eyes sensitive to mana saw an even more confusing, more horrifying site. To them, the bolts of lightning were shot through with different colours, the rainbow represented in multiple shades of each colour. Unlike the whirlpool of clouds seen by those with mundane sight, to those looking on with mana sight the whirlpool was one of swirling colours, funnelling into circle, one with a red outline and creating a pitch black hole, the light from the lightning and strands of mana doing nothing to illuminate the darkness within. Occasionally a figure could be seen flying up through the gate, some circled it down in the depths of the hole, not moving far but diving in and out while never flying too far from the gate or too high towards the rim of the pool.

Along the rim a huge wall of iron had been built. On the side facing into the hole runes could be seen, inlaid across the whole wall in threads of silver. Treading the ramparts figures clad in armour patrolled, helms covered their heads, but their faces remained clear. Their tabards all bore the sigil of Prowi, the Power of War, embroidered in silver thread into dark blue, over chainmail hanging down to their knees, their lower legs covered in plate greaves. They watched below, looking through enchanted glass that broke the glare and let them watch safely. They were an elite, and even so they knew that f something did come up, this deep within Fae from the maelstrom below, it meant their death though they would save millions of lives by giving warning and, hopefully, creating enough of a delay for sufficient forces to be gathered to destroy the threat.

General Krowl stood on the ramparts, looking down through an observation portal. He extended his mana, magnifying the image, looking at the figures whirling in the air above the maelstrom. He twisted his head, looking at the figures clambering up the walls, then falling back. He grunted, then turned to faced a Fae woman dressed in purple, the symbol of the Awakened guild on her shoulder.

“So, what’s different? I don’t see anything changed from normal. Why raise a panic by calling the legion forth?”

She walked forward, meeting him at the portal and looking down.

“Normally, they stay close to the gate since the density of mana in our realm is too low for them to move too far from it. But there is something coming. Something that coalesces the mana around it. When it rises, others will rise with it, sustained by its aura. And once they have arisen, they will acclimatise. As long as the mana condensing child of the dark is with them, they will have all their power. But even if it is destroyed, after they have acclimated, they will retain power, albeit not at their full extent.” She stepped back, looking up at the stars and then towards the keep and the lands further into Fae. “Call the legion, perhaps we can stop what is coming before too much damage is done.”

***

Chapter 12

Martin ascended the hill, walking past the guards who bowed as he moved along the path. He had cut his intended visit short, soured by his visit to Jenny. In the three months he had been away, she had found another she liked. The fifth son of one of the merchants that often traded with the village, one with no prospects in his father’s business but happy to settle down and run a small store of his own in the village. Martin could understand Jenny, she was of age to be married, and no one in the village knew his fate. She had been forced to move on and being the wife of a shop owner was prestigious. She had looked regretfully at him when he had entered the store to greet her, but Martin’s heart had sunk as he saw the ring on her finger. After that, he had decided that returning to the Covenant and then to Comfor would be better while also removing the stress of not being completely open with his family.

As he passed the guards on the path, he noticed one surreptitiously moving his fingers in a ward against the evil eye. Those in the covenant knew the mages protected them and had no fear, but with recent threats from Baron Hothmarth due to arguments over access to grazing grounds and a fertile swathe of land claimed by both Bsronies for farms, extra soldiers had been hired, and amongst them many were plagued by superstitious beliefs, and they feared the Magi. He had learned of the trouble in discussion over dinner with his father and Master John. He had revelled in the mundanity of their lives and political machinations, but he also wondered what effect it would have on the Magi.

He had only vaguely hinted at what happened at the Manor with the Magi, knowing that details would only panic his parents and bring fear to the village. Knowing that the Magi they saw as vague powers, only descending amongst them on rare occasions, wielded magic, and powers they had no knowledge of was one thing. If they knew that war was being fought that, if lost, could result in them all being killed, was something else. He sighed, not happy even with deceiving his parents by omission, but knew it was for the best, anything else would reawaken their fears of his eminent demise.

The manor was quiet. He made his way through to his room, not seeing any of the other magi. On a whim he made for the centre chamber where he had first met the magi, and found it arranged as a dining hall. The small scattered tables of his previous visit moved back to one side, a large banquet table sat in the middle of the room, elborately carved high-backed chairs around it. An ornately embroidered linen tablecloth covered the table, formal place settings arranged on it. Each place was set with fine ceramic ware, silver cutlery at each place to be used instead of the eating knives everyone carried. Ornate crystal tumblers and wine glasses sat at each place, with ornate candelabras shedding light across the table.

He looked around the room, wondering wat the occasion was when Linden walked in.

“Ah, Martin, you are here already. We would have sent for you in due time.”

“Sent for me? Is there some occasion?” He looked around and at the formal setting, his mind churning over what the Magi might consider an occasion to dine so formally. Also, looking at the table, he wondered who else would be there to fill the table.

Linden smiled, “Of course there is. The newest Mag of the Covenant has returned from the Academy. What better excuse to celebrate than that? But, for now, return to your room. Please, return in an hour so the preparations can be completed.” He walked up to Martin, placing his hand on his shoulder and gently guiding him out. As Martin was about to exit the room, he remarked, “Oh, and well done on your first excursion into the Fae realm, not many have it so adventurous.” With a little push, Martin found himself outside the room, looking at the rapidly closing door.

Martin returned to his room, and spent some time studying Basic Runes and Rune Patterning, a bit surprised that his bookshelf which he thought to be in his room at the academy, had somehow made its way here. The two looked identical, he wondered at how it somehow seemed to follow him around. Looking at it carefully he noticed what seemed to be some runes inscribed into it. “So, carpenters have their own form of rune magic?” The miracles of the world of the Magi still surprised him even after his exposure and months of living in a city rife with mana and Magi.

An hour passed, and he felt the tingling of a sending, “Martin, please come back to the Meeting chamber.” He put the book down, making his way out of his room. As he left, he saw the tapestries on the walls of the vestibule leading to his room had changed. They were now of the Fae forest he had been in, and showed a scene, imaginatively crafted since he remembered nothing so dramatic, of him battling the dark wolves. He shook his head and carried on.

He chamber looked different to earlier. Overhead floating orbs cast light over the room. Beyond them the night sky could be seen through the glass ceiling, the waxing crescent of the moon shining down surrounded by a sweep of star which were somehow reflected into the glass itself, making them look closer. His attention was pulled away as he heard a familiar voice shouting.

“MARTIN”

Shocked he looked at the guests and saw his parents, both dressed in their finest clothes but looking distinctly out of place, standing with his brothers. They stood in an almost defensive formation, looking at the strange sights and the strange creatures, especially Sir Finebottom, that stood nearby. The Magi stood in a cluster near them chatting to Bathel, dressed most formally in his robes of office as Supreme Magister of the Awakened. He saw three other figures talking to the Magi, two he recognised as his teachers, Gard and Jade, the third he did not know. Near them, almost as uncomfortable as his parents, stood Mayor Quent, awkwardly looking around while not knowing anyone. Sir Finebottom was trying to engage him in conversation, but clearly not succeeding in calming him as it was Mayor Quent that had called out. Servants in castle livery passed between the people, trays with drinks held ready for all. They passed to another group Martin had not noticed standing against the wall, Baron Guernic, his wife and two sons.

Martin bowed his head to acknowledge the mayor and then in the direction of Bathel, whom he gave a deeper bow to, while turning and acknowledging his teachers and the other magi while bent. He straightened, going to his parents, hoping to calm their obvious fear.

“Martin, what manner of demons are these?” His mother was looking wide eyed at the greenish skin of Jade, her pointy ears adding to her strange look. Her eyes would then dart over to Mayor Quent, his pointy ears just as prominent as was his golden skin colour. Dravid on the other hand seemed most interested in some of the obvious magical manifestations while his father stared at Sir Finebottom, trying to contemplate how a rabbit could be a man.

Martin gulped, grabbing a glass f wine as a servant passed, taking a sip to gain some time and think. He couldn’t really think of anything. “Umm, Mother, Father, I may have omitted the details of my life with the Magi.” He hoped that not too much would be said of the war, and he wondered at the presence of the Baron and his family.

Helmesford stepped forward, snapping his fingers which had the effect of creating a loud bell like sound, silencing conversation as everyone turned to look at him. The Magi and folk from Comfor in expectation, Martin’s family, and the Baron and his family, in shock.

In the silence, and ignoring the fact that the Baron and his elder son had stepped in front of the rest of the family, their hands on their swords, he started to speak.

“Magi, our honoured guests, and of course the one we are gathered for, Martin, we welcome you to the Covenant of Tears.” He looked around now, only briefly pausing to shake his head at the battle preparedness of the Baron and carried on. “This covenant has stood here for centuries, the bulwark and protector against incursions of the Dark through the gateway below.”

Martin saw his mother’s face turn hard as she turned to look at him, he could almost feel her anger at his not telling her more of what happened at the Covenant.

Helmesford’s words were a welcome distraction from his growing discomfort at his mother’s anger.

“Luckily for us it has been peaceful for many of those centuries, especially in recent years, though there have been times when the Magi here have been called upon to do their duty. We remember those who have fallen in the past and honour them.” He raised his glass, pouring blood red wine onto the ground. The other Magi, both from the covenant and Comfor, followed suite. Seeing it being done, the Baron, being the consummate diplomat followed suite, indicating to his family to do the same.

“But now for happier times! For the first time in two centuries we have a new Mage at the covenant, an occurrence made all the better, and one to make us even prouder, since he is from our very own village!” He walked over to Martin, putting his arm around his shoulders. For a second Martin wondered how the shorter man was doing that, and then noticed how the floor had risen to increase his height. Undoubtedly if he had been attuned to air instead of Earth he would probably just as casually be floating there!

“I give the Covenant, Martin, Awakened of Hiphate!” He smiled, then bowed to the Baron. “Honoured Baron, we acknowledge and abide by the pact we established with your family a millennium ago. We are here to help you, just as you shelter and help us. If your enemies attack, the Magi of the Covenant will make sure nothing comes of it, as Baron Hothmarth shall learn in due course.” The Baron gave a small bow in return, raising his glass in salute.

“Guests, Magister Bathel wished to say a few words. Magister Bathel, if you please.”

The Magister rose in his place, floating higher so all could see him with ease. Martin wondered at his affinity, assuming it would be air, but one never knew since Powers manifested in different ways and overlap in magic derived from them common.

Bathel smiled at those present, all feeling like it was them that he was looking at and addressing. “I come to celebrate the elevation of Martin to one of the Magi. It is not often I do so, but I felt compelled, no, honoured to do so this time! For the first time Hiphate the Smith has chosen to sponsor one of the Awakened, and from what I have seen, that choice was well made, and Martin’s work will honour him. But even more than that are the extraordinary events on the first excursion of Martin and his cohort. We acknowledge and honour Martin and his cohorts for their excellent work in saving a Fae child and beating back a creature of the dark. I thank Mayor Quent for travelling here and helping us to celebrate with Martin.” His smile got larger, and he pulled a scroll from his robe. “Martin, in recognition of your deeds, we have decided on a suitable reward. A smithy has been commissioned for you in the city of Comfor.” He handed the scroll to Martin, “The deed, and some forms for you to fill in what you need to make it workable.”, He paused, “now, I believe dinner is in order.”

The dinner was excellent, the food plentiful and people relaxed. Well, mostly relaxed, Martin could feel the anger of his mother still and the rowdy behaviour of Kevin as he drank too much of the unaccustomed red wine made him want to lean over and slap him, but his father restrained him. No one paid much attention, except for the younger son of the Baron who seemed to think it a game and tried to match him. It seemed to go well, though at times Martin thought he could feel the appraisal of the Baron and his son as they stared at him. He hoped no trouble would come of it. His family and other guests left near midnight, and his mother’s words whispered in his ear as they embraced when she left made him quail, “You will explain!”

In the morning he escaped back to Comfor. Hopefully, his mother’s anger would be lessened when he next returned.