Kanick stood in the doorway to the keep's large atrium. The walls were bare stone, supported by wooden beams, like in a mine. A large soiled carpet from the previous garrison remained underfoot.

Soldiers streamed in through the open door, swords in hand as Kanick grabbed a spell from inside his satchel, facing down Edian who was standing in front of a broken door at the end of the hall. He weakly activated the spell, red and orange sparks mixing with the purple, demonstrating a hint of the spell written upon the paper.

"You're under arrest for the murder of Regius Elath," Kanick yelled down the hall as the soldiers advanced, gingerly. "Your sword, and bag. Throw them," he instructed.

The look on the magister's face was one of detached amusement, as he undid his sword and satchel and threw them aside.

"What gave me away?" He asked with an unpleasant sneer.

"Someone remembered you from before the war," Kanick replied as deLan came and stood next to him. "Tell me, Magister, why? You were free, no one would have discovered you for centuries. Why kill Regius?"

"I didn't," Edian replied airily and Kanick's brow furrowed. "I sent one of my acolytes in disguise." Edian laughed haughtily. "You don't think I do my own killings? You've met him a few times, he suggested you stay in the Crown, an establishment he frequents, something about the soup, I think. He'll have to learn how to use his other hand to eat it, of course. I believe he's struck up a good rapport with your apprentice." Edian sneered as horror spread across Kanick's face.

"Bera..." he whispered.

"Enough, put an end to this!" deLan growled, nervously his eyes darting between the two mages.

"Not until I have my answers," Kanick replied. "Why?" He repeated, the paper held in his hand sparking to life, illuminating the halls before rapidly dying back. Kanick barely noticed, keeping his gaze fixed solely on Edian.

"You know of the spell?" Kanick nodded almost imperceptibly. "Truly remarkable, I've not seen it's like in over a thousand years, not since the continents were split using primordial power. Regius came to see me, seeking guidance, fearing the spell was an abomination. Necromancers can raise the dead, of course, but to restore life, now that's something entirely different. I had him killed and took the spell – along with all his research. It will prove useful to me."

"If you wanted to be free of your curse-" Kanick started and was cut off by a harsh bark of a laugh.

"Ha! Free? I am already free. I was chosen for this life by the Priests of Elenchol, back when the Primordials were worshipped as gods, and their denizens treated as prophets!" Edian was truly old, Kanick realised. Before the Union, before the founding of the Order of Mages, the two continents had been one and people lived in city-states worshipping the four primordials. It was an anarchic and violent period of history, with no rules around the use of magic, save that which were enforced by the strong on the weak.

"I was taken, cursed, as you call it, but I had power, wealth; any earthly desire I wished to satisfy was satisfied. I had my own temple, and followers, right here in Woodbend until some stupid Mage summoned the power of Matia and sank the bridge between east and west." There was real anger in Edian's eyes.

"Suddenly, the primordials were objects of fear, not awe, and the Order was founded. I escaped, obviously, and found my way back, biding myself for the time when the Order could be destroyed and the world remade. Palregon had the right idea, but a second Primordial summoning put an end to him, and countless others along the scar. No one cared about Woodbend, of course, and I had always kept outsiders outside of my enclave... so I took a new name and returned to run my enclave once more.

"I never forgot, of course. A long life, and a long memory helped to keep the dream alive. Besides," Edian's eye glittered, "The power of a primordial has all kinds of unexpected effects and whispers reached me, from the scar. Horrible creatures, and a shadow, pitiful and aimless but surviving in the cracks of that blighted land-"

"I've had enough of this-" deLan started, but Edian continued talking.

"I couldn't believe my luck when Regius came to me with his spell. In an instant, I saw how to restore Palregon to the world." Edian's smile grew more grotesque as he revealed sharp, hungry teeth. "I just want you to know, Master Kanick, that you failed. Failed Regius and your benighted Order. The spell is ready, and Palregon will rise again." Edian sucked in his breath and the sound of his voice seemed to carry through the very stones around them. "Kill them!"

The door behind the Magister splintered open, just as deLan's soldiers lunged for Edian, and black robed mages streamed through into the hallway. Kanick willed his mark to life, flinching slightly at the fire as he cast the spell.

Edian dodged the jet of flame, pulling one of the soldiers into its path, crumpling the plate of the cavalryman's bracers with the force of his fingers. The revenant's movements were fluid, and it took a moment for Kanick to realise what had happened as the soldiers died in quick succession.

"On me!" deLan yelled as Kanick reached for another spell. The governor grabbed him. "We have to go!" More mages appeared, blocking the exit. Two of the soldiers had managed to get a side door open. "This way," deLan directed him.

As they rattled through the narrow halls of the fort, and down a flight of stairs, Kanick realised how few of them were left. They had set off with thirty soldiers and now were reduced to six, running about in the dark.

Kanick felt a prickle in the air along his back, and turned to see a mage activating a mark, which sparked with white-purple light, illuminating the doorway. Kanick turned and drew his sword, throwing it at their attacker. It collided with the bolt of lightning in a single, violent moment, sending molten flecks of steel lashing against the stone walls.

He kept running.

The diminished group passed through another door, which Kanick heard being shut and bolted behind them. He leaned against a wall, panting heavily with the exertion of the run and the spell. He wiped his brow with gloved hands and counted off the pouches in his satchel. The second pouch! He held the card and activated the mark, sensing it, rather than seeing it.

A ball of light rose to the ceiling and Kanick saw they were in a small dungeon, the walls formed from bare rock under the hill. Half the room was divided into a bank of four open-bar cages, while a rotting desk, for whoever was on duty, mouldered in a corner of the room.

"Fuck," one of the soldiers gasped, the effort of running in full plate overcoming him as he collapsed to the floor, wheezing.

"I can't hear anyone out there," deLan gulped down the stale, fetid air of the dungeon.

"They're not in a hurry," Kanick said, thinking about Edian's words. I wanted you to know, you failed. "Edian could be on his way to the Scar, or back to Woodbend. There's no one to stop him." Fear mixed with exhaustion as he thought of Edian's acolytes closing in on the Black Crown.

"Do you think his plan will work? Can he bring back Palregon?" deLan asked, leaning against the desk.

"I don't know, he mentioned a spirit... Maybe it's not enough for the spell to act on," Kanick said. "Spirits, souls, whatever, don't normally exist... They're in imprint of a person, usually preserved using forbidden runes carved into the flesh." As he told the assembled soldiers about this piece of necromantic magic, he thought back to his classroom in Parras.

For a moment, he wished he was back there teaching his pupils about these horrors in the abstract. But he realised these events would still be happening. In some forgotten corner of the Kingdom, Edian would be preparing to deliver this spell to the Scar. Assuming he was correct, Palregon could be reborn inside of the month, in six the old war wounds would be opening again.

Then the horrors would, again, no longer be abstract. The older students would be paired with battlemages - themselves apprentices promoted after only a year of study – and sent off to fight. It wouldn't matter their promise or potential, how good they had been at notation, or history. A future Champion of the Order might be killed in the opening volley of arrows. The greatest crafter of their generation could meet death on the end of a monster's claw in a frozen field.

He knew how some of them, regaled with glorious tales of gallant and noble sacrifice, would cheer at the opportunity to have their mettle tested and found worthy. He, and many others had done the same. It had survived the first volley of arrows, it had survived the first staggering butcher's bill – surely a fluke never to be repeated – but the bravado proved to be a thin film of armour as the devastation mounted.

And that horror would be coming for his pupils; for conscientious Fia, brash Jarque and timid Calgetrick. It didn't matter whether Kanick was here in the dungeon, or back in Parras. He stood, using the wall to get himself up with a sigh.

"We have to do something," Kanick declared.

"What?" deLan asked. "The Sons are out there, they can deal with us at their leisure. What can we do?"

Kanick rummaged around in his bag, cataloguing his spells and estimating in his head. Lots of fire-based runes, Bera seemed comfortable with those. A few marks for bolts of lightning, of course. Elementals were a staple of a Battlemage's craft, but they could be combined in interesting ways, if the marks were there...

And there it was, in the fourth pouch. Direct from Manellan's Almanac, a spell that could be used to control the air. All the pieces were there. The spell he had in mind was complex, requiring precise timing of all the elements, but Kanick reasoned that he should have enough power to bring the fort down.

"I know what to do," Kanick replied sombrely, after moment wrestling with his own mind about whether he should tell them what he planned to do. "We can't fight our way out of here, there are too many of them," Kanick explained. "But," the assembled men raised their heads at this, eagerly anticipating his plan, "Edian is the leader of the Sons of the Prince, and although we don't know their true number there could be hundreds of them in this fort. Not to mention, a spell that could raise Palregon from the dead." He looked at their faces, tired, grimy and sweat stained. The soldiers were too young to have fought in the war. The lines of deLan's face were set, grim.

"That would mean millions dead, the Kingdom in ruins and a return of necromancy, revenants and other horrors," Kanick continued. "This is a world that hasn't been seen for thousands of years but may yet be the future."

Kanick swallowed, hearing that other worldly whisper. You belong to me.

"What are our lives compared to peace?" Kanick asked them. "Many have already paid this price tonight, and it is a price I would gladly pay!" The whisper grew louder in his mind. "I have a spell, that could bring down this fort, killing everyone inside. If we do this, we will end this new war before it begins and deal a fatal blow to the Sons of the Prince."

"How do you know it will kill that- that... thing?" One of the soldiers asked, his young features stretched by fear, his pale eyes dancing about the room.

"Fire," deLan said, before Kanick could speak. "The remedy for revenants is sunlight, and fire."

"If this works," Kanick told them, "It should create a firestorm big enough to consume the fort. I doubt Edian could survive."

"Will it hurt?" the young soldier asked, his voice catching.

"We will be close to the blast... We won't even know it happened," he replied, hoping it was true.

"Do it," deLan said. "I lived through that war, and have no desire to see it delivered on my children." Kanick didn't know deLan had children and was taken aback. "Everyone came here tonight knowing death was always a possibility."

"It will take a moment to prepare the spell," Kanick informed them. "I will say before I activate it... to give you a chance to... to prepare." They nodded, some even replied with 'Yes, sir'. Kanick sat down by his satchel, staring at the runes.

The aim was to set off one of the fire runes, contain it using the air rune and then keep activating all the additional fire runes until the air spell could no longer contain them. The force of the resulting explosion should, he hoped, destroy the fort. There was a good chance of that, he reassured himself as the sound of footsteps and yelling came from outside.

"Looks like they decided not to wait," deLan said, sword in hand. "Protect Master Kanick," he ordered his men, and they formed a line between the door and the mage.

He activated the first fire mark. His will was shakey, but the paper exploded into a flurry of purple sparks and a ball of flame roared slightly above the floor. He took a trembling breath. You belong to me. Once the air mark was active, there would be no time for thought.

Kanick was vaguely aware of banging on the other side of the door, they were almost through. He activated the air mark and willed the pressure to increase. He heard groans of pain behind him, his own head and eyes began to ache. The fire dimmed to a glowing hot ember before him. He sensed for the next mark, almost reflexively. It had to be quick.

A moment before the mark could flare to life something struck his back between the scales of his hauberk.