Chapter 30

“But Ignis was not defeated. He would return with fire and revenge. Knowing he could not defeat the Guardian head on, he conceded to using more subtle and devious tactics.”

Origins by Grand Arboler Parley, year 1989

Aftermath

Moon Superior rose above the horizon while Moon Inferior reached zenith. Oliver walked on sore feet through the camp that was still being set up. Tents made of rough cloth and extinguished staves were pitched left and right.

His eyes drooped. He hadn't slept in two days. He thought he could've dropped to the grass in front of him and slept soundly until morning, but the scene around him, and the nightmares within, kept him awake.

Dual-oriented, he repeated in his mind. That’s what Tasen had said after he heard about it. Lennox’s staff could Cast magic out both ends because it was essentially two staves combined into one with their tips facing opposite directions. Very difficult to make. Even harder to Cast. But somehow Lennox mastered it.

The Salverians retreated from Cambium for hours until they'd met with the infantry and weapon wagons that had continued marching from where the mages flew off the night before. The soldiers were told the hard truth. They'd lost the battle and needed to turn around and march back to Magen City.

Obviously, the morale was low.

As Oliver walked through the camp, he heard women moan for their dead husbands, and he saw men weeping over the blood-covered bodies of their relatives. Most didn't have a body to weep over. All they knew was that their loved one was missing. Some injured mages begged for a maple wand to heal them, and most were denied. The weapon wagons didn't have enough maple for everyone.

With a deep breath, Oliver walked toward the area where the dead lay. Rows of corpses haunted his vision. Several workers were respectfully placing the bodies into a long, recently-dug grave. The sight brought a bile taste to his mouth.

Unsure what else he could do, he offered to help the men who were placing the corpses in the grave. They didn't object. Half an hour later, all the dead were in the grave.

Including Ilan.

The young mage, who was probably only a few years younger than Oliver, looked at peace, surrounded by nearly a hundred other corpses. Oliver stared at him. Tears filled his eyes. He reminds me so much of Ben, he thought. Even in death, they look similar.

A crowd of Salverians surrounded the mass grave and watched somberly as they were buried. Ashley was there along with Silas. Ashley wept into Silas' shoulder while he watched with a stone face.

No words were spoken. It was an unannounced moment of silence. The workers pushed the dirt over the bodies and then sprinkled tree seeds over the loose clay. Their belief was that the dead would live again and be one with Life by making the soil more fertile for new trees to sprout. That custom was rarely practiced anymore in 4027. But something about it seemed fitting, especially this night.

The deed done, the crowd lingered, and then slowly and silently filtered away toward their tents. Oak logs were placed throughout the camp to Cast their magical white light in the dark. Soldiers stood watch in case of a midnight attack, but Oliver heard those were extremely rare after such a large-scale battle. He walked dreamily toward his tent, eager to end this horrendous day.

"There he is!"

Oliver turned toward the voice. It was the captain with a hooked nose. The same man who expressed his doubt in Oliver several days earlier. Several dozen men and women followed the man, bearing swords and staves. Oh no...

"The false guardian lives!" he said. "He duped us into believing he would save us and save Cambium! And did he?"

"No!" the growing crowd shouted.

"We've been played as fools by this con-artist! I say we burn him!"

The crowd roared but didn't move. They hesitated because Silas stood beside Oliver, a staff in his hand.

"And you, General!" the hooked-nosed man said. "You led us to believe he was the real Guardian of Magic. Now what do you have to say for yourself?"

Silas stared at the crowd for a long while, his eyebrows furrowed. Everyone waited silently for his response. Then he turned to Oliver.

He stared back wearily. For one of the first times in his life, Oliver didn't have the heart to argue. If Silas gave the word, he'd accept it. After watching Ilan die right in front of him, just like Ben had... he didn't feel much like carrying on himself. This life wasn't worth living. Life itself and Life herself had proven to be especially cruel to him.

"Bind him," Silas said. "Take him prisoner. When we get to Magen City, we'll let the Justices decide what to do with him."