Aftermath

It certainly wasn’t how Alcar had imagined his first visit to the Imperial capital.

A week had passed, with the only major change in his conditions being that the soldiers had swapped the ropes binding his hands for metal chains, and put a more secure gag over his mouth.

They hadn’t even emptied his pockets.

He had only been able to leave the wagon once a day, for toilet purposes. At first, Alcar was the only prisoner, but as they rolled on through the Trollbone Hills, to Gilmour Village, and then on through Dathmir province, more and more joined them. Many showed recent wounds – like Alcar and his friends, they hadn’t surrendered easily.

Soon enough, when it became clear that an immediate escape wasn’t an option, Alcar focused on resting and gathering his strength. Granted, he was still gagged with his hands secured behind his back, but they couldn’t keep him that way forever, could they? When he was unbound and allowed to drink, he would be able to speak – and use his magic.

But that hope, too, was quickly dashed, as the soldiers thrust a drinking tube inside his gag. The Imperials weren’t total idiots, it seemed.

Alcar was, accordingly, uncomfortable and very smelly by the time the wagon drew up in front of a long building in Varia, the capital city of the Varian Empire. It stopped, and he and the other chained prisoners were taken out.

He looked around, blinking into the sunlight. Varia was a very white city, he could see, with buildings of polished marble, and immaculate limestone streets that were currently being swept.

Was that his fate as prisoner – a slave for the city, providing manual labor? Or did the Varians have something more deadly in mind?

The answer to that question, he soon found, would have to wait. He was marched into the courtyard of the building – some kind of prison, not unlike the one he knew back in Katresburg – after which he and several others who looked like they could pass as users of magic were unchained, separated from the rest of the prisoners, and each taken to a separate square cell. The interior was cold, dusty, and undecorated but for a wooden bench.

They even threw his staff in after him.

Alone, he quickly removed the gag. He felt sure that he could now use his magic, and perhaps find a creative way to escape. But the only strategy that immediately occurred to him was to create a portal, and use it get back to the Dungeon of van Zorika. And from there, home.

But that was risky to say the least. Most likely there was still a troll near the destination of the portal spell, and besides, his magic had been behaving very unpredictably of late.

Another option might be to shrink to a tiny size and escape the prison. Again though, even not allowing for the chaotic side effects of his recent magical efforts, it would be very difficult to maintain concentration on the incantation for long enough, and to avoid being seen on his way out.

It would be better to wait for a better opportunity.

Alcar sat back on the bunk. He would bide his time.

A week later, the door to his tiny cell opened, and two figures peered in. One was a lithe gray-haired man wearing an ornate chest armor. Muscular and keen-eyed, then man had the look of a seasoned and deadly warrior. The other visitor was – an orc? No... why, it was...

“Master Maluhk!”

Alcar cried the name, standing up from the bunk.

“Quiet, kid,” said the master sorcerer, stepping forward and sniffing twice at the ripe air of the cell. “It’s your lucky day. I’ve interceded on your behalf with Gellan here. As an old companion of mine, he was open to a conversation. And while there is no disagreement on the extent of your crimes, he has agreed to a compromise deal.”

The warrior – Gellan, Alcar presumed – gave a curt nod and moved back into the passageway outside the cell, while Maluhk took another step closer. “Sit, kid.”

Alcar sat back down on the bunk. “So, you persuaded them to release me?”

Maluhk shook his head. “It’s not quite simple as that. They know that you stole a horse from one of the Knights of Dawn, resisted arrest in Katresburg, and attacked Imperial soliders. You have to do time.”

“Then what?”

Maluhk folded his bulky arms with a half smile. “Gellan agrees with my assessment of your potential.”

“My potential?”

The master sorcerer nodded. “Yes. The thing is, Gellan and the knights want magic users. Loyal ones. And while you are... well, you’re a mess, it’s true. But you have shown some magical talent.”

“So they’re not planning to execute me?”

“No – not as long as you behave yourself. Gellan has a agreed that instead of staying in this prison, you can continue your training for six months at the Varian magical academy. You’ll be under lock and key, but you can learn something there.”

“Magic school?”

Maluhk narrowed his eyes, and grunted. “You got the book from Lox’aar, I understand?”

“Yes, master.”

Maluhk. “I assumed so. Olynka and the others returned to the city and came to see me. Quite a tale they told.”

“They’re safe? Brutus too?”

Maluhk nodded. ”I heard about the road, about events in the Trollbone Hills. You have been doing well, kid, but your magic lacks finesse. The Varians might be assholes, but you’ll probably benefit from a period of contemplation and practice. Then, if Gellan keeps his word, you will be returned to my care as an apprentice once again, to finalize your training.”

Alcar lowered his voice, glancing out towards the corridor where the muscular warrior had now moved out of sight. “Are you friends with Gellan, now? I thought you guys...”

“No questions about that, kid. Not here.”

“Right.”

“Now,” continued Maluhk, “your loyalty to the Emperor will be evaluated over the coming months. Their goal is to establish a team of Imperial magic users, so...” The sorcerer trailed off, spreading his hands.

“I gotta tell everyone how much I love the Emperor?” said Alcar.

“Yes. That’s about the size of it. And try not to show any great talent, because we don’t want them sending you off to war. Think you can manage that, kid?”

Alcar smiled, and picked up his staff. “I’ll see you in six months, master.”

“Good. Gellan and his eilte soldiers will escort you to the Imperial Academy straight away.” Maluhk paused again, gave a satisfied nod, and began to move away.

“Oh... master...?”

The half-orc paused, his eyes looking back at Alcar.

“When you next see Olynka and the others. You know – my adventuring group. Tell them not to move on, would you? Not to find a new sorcerer. I’ll be back. I’m still their leader.“

Maluhk snorted, and then began to walk away with a slight shrug. “I’m not your messenger, kid.”

Alcar sighed.

THE END