《From Bards and Poets》37 - Palace plotters VI

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“Of course, you have to be wary of assassins. Even the best plotter can be disposed of. Reeking of scheming and treason doesn't make you immune to poisoning or executions ! A word of advice regarding your enemies. Don't expect fishy henchmen wearing black cloaks, swinging around sabres and throwing daggers. It's not how it's done here. Rather, be careful about your every meal, about the water you wash your hands with, about walking near carriages and windows and all the 'accidents' that could happen. You're much more likely to have a maid putting hemlock in your soup, than having a knife plunged through your heart. Assassins in dark robes are a thing of stories and novels.

-101 Palace tips for newly arrived employees”

* * *

Azcheron

Azcheron breathed out deeply as he let himself fall on a chair. A tiring day, he had been giving lessons for several hours. His growing notoriety and his rumoured capabilities caught the attention of many students that were rather keen to learn more in depth about raw mana. Obviously, when he heard about the possibility of giving supplementary lessons to students that were interested, he thought why not ? Shining as a teacher would help spreading his name, he had no reason to refuse !

And learning how to teach magic would prove important. Erin wouldn't become a master spellblade all by herself, after all ! She was very motivated, that woman, always training with Karlos or going to seminaries about various subjects. Even right now, she was in the middle of a lecture, if Azcheron wasn't mistaken. About runic enchantments, I think ? The Saint scratched his chin. I wonder who does the lessons and lectures about runic magic, now that Yorl is dead... Darius had told him that one of his friends – he couldn't remember the name – was studying runes and artefacts. Azcheron felt somewhat bad for getting the old teacher killed, since his students also suffered the consequences.

Well, he brought it on himself, when I think about it. It wasn't me who babbled out our discoveries to Oscar... Why does it feel like everyone's holding me responsible when, for once, I'm innocent !?

Not that he cared much. Bad reputation was still reputation. That was why he decided to act all high and mighty at the audience. He'd rather be infamous than not famous at all. Regarding that, he could understand Oscar, though perhaps not to such an extreme extent. Mhh, you never know what the future holds for you ! It's not the first time I think about it, but if I can't become a hero, I might as well become an evil mage whose power will make the whole continent tremble !

Azcheron walked the covered passageway leading to the training grounds. Once here, he was surprised to find it empty. Perhaps it was too late for Karlos' lesson. Or too early... In any case, Erin wasn't here, probably in still in the middle of a lecture. There was no light in Anton's office so he wasn't there either. With no one to nag around here, Azcheron kept walking and wandering through the gardens.

A nefarious overlord. I kind of like that idea. A noble heart that was shunned and corrupted by the world, straying away from the path of goodness, descending into darkness and whatnot... Only to become virtuous again at death's doors, fighting for his loved one and ending his own life in a redeeming sacrifice !

He followed the stairs leading to the higher floors. There was a garden he particularly liked, on top of a large, elevated tower.

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Such a story would surely be popular with the ladies... But then again, do I have a noble heart to begin with ? Erin would say that I'm the one doing the shunning and corrupting, but that woman's words are poison.

Arrived at the top, he gazed at the moon as he stood in the middle the empty and silent garden. The moonshine passing between the black towers was reflected against the slabbed path, illuminating the grass and flowers in a faint silvery light. In the distance, Azcheron could see the large shadow of the Palace, obscuring a portion of the starry sky.

But I have my youth and my exoticness on my side, so no matter what I do, all is good. All is forgiven. Though I don't really want to die or sacrifice myself. And Erin forbade me anyway.

There was nothing to disturb the peace of the nocturnal garden, not even the wind. Nothing to disturb him. Nothing ? That was when Azcheron noticed. Amidst all the magical disturbance in the school, there were traces of magic lingering around here, in the garden. That was strange.

And for a second, he felt something from a tower overlooking the Academy. Then, several faint lights coming from the tower. ...Ah !

In the blink of an eye, Azcheron raised a wall of stone slabs from the ground. Just in time to defend against a volley of glowing arrows crashing against the slab rampart. Enchanted arrows ?

At the same moment, he caught a glimpse of a shadow running toward him. Something shiny spurted from the darkness, Azcheron stopped it with mana right before it reached his head.

A throwing knife. Assassins ! Finally ! He rejoiced, glancing at the Palace's blackness standing out against the stars. Took them long enough...

The shadow drew another dagger form under its robes, taking a stance with it. These are real assassins, with cloaks and whatnot ! So cool. With a thought, Azcheron pushed mana against the blade and shoved it into the assassin's throat. He groaned and clawed at his neck while blood flowed from it and red bubbles bursted from his mouth.

One down, Azcheron counted as the man collapsed. How long has it been since I've had a real battle with my magic unimpeded ? Let's play a bit, see how they fare. And a smile formed on his face.

Another volley of arrows came from the tower, while two other shadows rushed from the sides. With a flick of his wrist, the arrows were reduced to cinders, engulfed in flames that kept hovering above the garden, casting a vivid orange light on the Academy. He waved his hand and sent the slabs he had raised with mana, toward the two assassins. Crushing their skulls in a squishy noise.

High pitched sounds came from behind. He dove to the side, metallic flashes passing around him, and suddenly a sharp pain in his right shoulder.

He grimaced, seeing a knife lodged in it. How many are they ? he wondered as he threw the blade away and shrugged off the injury. Will they just come in small groups while the rest keep attacking me from afar ? He still forced the blood out of his shoulder with mana before treating the wound, not risking the knife being poisoned.

He made the mass of flames grow larger until it became an enormous brasier. The light was now enough to give Azcheron a proper view of the garden. Three cloaked figures circling him. He found the man he assumed to be the culprit of the knife throwing, and snapped his neck with raw mana, so hard that the head detached itself from the torso.

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The two others drew glowing blades. Enchanted, Azcheron guessed. They have good gear and training... Another cloud of arrows flew in the sky, and to the Saint's slight surprise, the two cloaked spellblades casted volleys of paralysing bolts. A feint ! I like it ! Using wind magic to help him dodge the bolts with a cartwheel – because it was stylish –, he then ran toward the two assassins, as he heard the arrows crashing behind him.

Jumping between the pair, he seized one attacker by the arm with magic. As the second man was about to strike, Azcheron made his puppet spin and placed him between them to serve as a human shield. The sword carved in the torso and got stuck in it. Now drenched in blood, the Saint discarded his shield and severed the remaining attacker's legs with a wind blade. He stopped the blood loss by burning the ends of the shortened limbs, ignoring the screams of the victim.

Of course, he was fighting in a convoluted way, merely enjoying the battle by refraining from making all his opponents explode in a matter of seconds. Though he had to resort to some more classic magic to get rid of the archer.

He enhanced his vision to see through the distance and the darkness, surveying his surroundings, the roofs and the towers, and quickly spotted the last cloaked figure on the highest tower. He was busy mumbling something, probably his next spell for his volley of arrows or whatever else. A moment later, the head was missing, blasted away. The headless body fell somewhere in the Academy's grounds.

Someone will have a surprise tomorrow morning ! Azcheron thought, not bothering with the cadaver now laying in some random courtyard.

* * *

Erin

Erin stretched her arms now that the lecture had just ended. Lots of symbols and geometrical constructs traced on the pages of the notebook she shoved in her leather bag. Runic magic was complex, but after trying to learn the Dragon tongue, it somewhat paled in comparison of the draconic scribblings.

She wondered if Azcheron or Karlos could teach her a bit about how to enchant something with runes. Not much was known about it really, most people preferred enchantments obtained through casted spells, because the user had complete dominion over the effects. Runic magic was a thing of its own, a separate entity from the magician, like artefacts. Probably a draconic invention. They always had the most complicated and impractical ideas.

The heck is this ? She wondered as she exited the lecture hall and looked at the sky. Thoughts of the seminary were replaced by confusion, seeing some sort of inferno hovering above the Academy, not far from here.

Having a bad feeling, she went in the direction of the brasier to see what was happening. Maybe it's Azcheron or some student trying out spells ? She tried to reassure herself as she walked the stairs and corridors leading to the upper gardens.

She didn't really know what to expect, but she certainly was surprised to find the highest garden decorated with dead bodies, arrows and blood puddles.

Of course, Azcheron was standing in the middle of it all, arms crossed, casually chatting with a legless person. Seeing that his friend was covered in blood and that the dead people wore shady black cloaks, Erin got the gist of the situation. Walking wordlessly to Azcheron, she intended to listen in the interrogation, but it seemed the crippled man fainted.

“Oh, Erin. You're late,” the Saint said in an obviously fake reproachful tone.

“I can see that. Friends of yours ?” She motioned toward the corpses scattered in the garden.

“Night prowlers. We had a entertaining spar.” He gave a radiant smile.

Erin grimaced as she remarked the hideous state of some mutilated bodies. Most were headless.

“I'm sure they enjoyed every moment of it... From the Palace ?”

He nodded. “I'd say so. They were trained and that one refused to speak." He pointed to the unconscious assassin.

“Professionals, then... You're guessing a chancellor or the ruling family ?”

“Yes.” Azcheron snapped his finger. “I thought it could be from your family but if these are Imperial assassins, at least either Varymiel or a member of royalty has to be involved. From what I've learned, it's unlikely your uncle would request something from the other factions, and the Second Prince would probably try other means before sending assassins.”

“...Whereas the Emperor or Varymiel could very much decide to kill you because of the audience.”

Erin sighed. What kind of enemies did you make this time ? I was expecting consequences since the audience, but still... She looked at his face and saw his smiling eyes. Then the realization hit her.

“You knew they'd do something like that !” she accused. “You did it on purpose !”

“Bah ! I told you things would get moving a bit.”

“No, you didn't.”

“Didn't I, now ? Perhaps you're right. Well, I thought about telling you then.”

“And you didn't.”

“I may have forgotten.” He shrugged.

Yes, yes, you forgot. Whatever. “What do we do with all these bodies, now ?” she asked. I'm sure people will be curious about this brasier flying up there, and come to see what this is about. Then they'll be even more curious about the garden being turned into a graveyard overnight.

“Let's leave these guys here for now.”

“Huh ?”

“To show people what's what. To warn them not to send pitiful assassins like those. Can't they do better ? Moreover...” he pointed at some tower in the distance, “there's another body laying somewhere around there, and I don't feel like searching for it. Since someone will eventually find it, we might as well let the other corpse in the open !”

What kind of logic is that ? Ugh...

“There's no way you'll manage to live here peacefully after that, you know,” she pointed out.

Azcheron sent her a quizzical look. “My dear Erin... Haven't I told you ? I'm sure I did, this time. That I wasn't planning to make friends with the Empire.”

Indeed, she remembered. “What do you have in mind then ?”

“Why, going somewhere else where I can spread my name, of course. I take it you will be coming with me.”

She nodded. Was there really any need to ask ? It wasn't as if she really had anything tying her to the capital. And she had already made her mind some time ago. In the desert.

“Once we're done wrapping up things and interrogating this guy, we can leave anytime. I'd say the sooner the better, so that we won't be late.”

Late ?

“Thinking of a destination in particular ?” She was curious. She knew he wouldn't want to go in a boring place.

Azcheron smirked. “The north, where else ? I hear it's starting to boil, up there. I wouldn't want to miss that.”

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