《Tales from the Shard》


 Prologue: A Short Introduction to the Isle of Krassus

    A city, growing like a well manicured garden, rests on the island of Krassus. An island of little to mention other than its location. It rests three days sail east from the rocky shores of Adamanstratus along the Cressian flow that runs all the way to the sandy southern shores of the Fanim lands before turning south and departing past the untamed tangle of the Wild Land¡¯s shores. This, in theory, would make it a wonderful port of call for trading ships that wished to take the Cressian Flow to the Fanim lands before turning north and traveling along the coast to the Andyan Flow that would take them back to Adamanstratus. Unfortunately, as Marcus Telemanus was discovering to his increasing dismay, the island was a pock mark on the face of the world with nothing to bring anyone there, and plenty to keep them away.


    ¡°No one would found a village here, much less a city, unless they were mad or stupid.¡± Marcus said to himself, his voice the raspy clicking that was common to all Mantis. ¡°Or unless he had no choice.¡± Marcus sighed, letting the red chitin that covered his hand run along the living wood railing of the balcony of his new home. ¡®I fear I may fill all three categories¡¯ he thought wearily. He had known that his brother sending him out here, to ¡®Aid the throne in a most critical task¡¯ could mean nothing good. Marcus only wished it hadn¡¯t been this bad.


    The earth of the island of Krassus was rough and rocky, it was hard to get anything to grow here, which both limited their ability to actually build anything on the island, and made it impossible to supply themselves through farming. Water was a serious issue as well. The only source of naturally drinkable water on the island was in the damned swamp to the south. Just collecting the water from the edge was hazardous enough, but to get enough water to keep even those who had already arrived they¡¯d have to go deeper and get some form of infrastructure built. Which promised to be nearly impossible. The water itself was filled with bone fish, horrible creatures that grew no larger than an inch. There were a lot of them, and they bit anything that moved with teeth sharp enough to gouge steel. The swamp was also constantly surrounded by the thickest mist Marcus had ever seen, the air was wet enough to put out torches. And deeper still were horrid creatures that Marcus refused to think about.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Things were not entirely hopeless at least. A circle of Singers had accompanied him, most of them owing him one favour or another, and while they would not be here for long they could fix most of these issues before the Emperor would call them back. Or so Marcus hoped. They were already hard at work fashioning runes of True Speech that would purify the ocean water in quantities large enough to sustain them. Marcus dearly hoped they would have time to make at least part of the land usable as well, but had already scheduled a number of imports should that fail. Beyond surviving the next week or two Marcus truly had no plans.


    Perhaps his brother sent him out here hoping he would just starve to death, an eventuality which was more likely than Marcus cared to admit.


    For now he was still alive, and that would have to be enough. And if life had taught Marcus anything, it was that if you threw enough time at any problem, it could be solved. And so Marcus sat back in his newly grown chair, letting himself relax for what must have been the first time in weeks. He grabbed a bottle from the ground, uncorked it and sipped as he watched the sun fall across the horizon painting the sea green and the sky a shade of purple. ¡°All we need is a bit of time, and everything will come together, and maybe a little faith as well.¡±


    Time was unfortunately not quite as kind as Marcus hoped. By sunrise the startings of the town on Krassus would be reduced to ash before it could even be given a proper name. The people of the town would find themselves in the grave, or in chains. And those unlucky enough to be left behind would find themselves wishing for either.

 Chapter 1: A Simple Prayer

    The night was calm, a soft breeze carrying the smell of the ocean across the rocky ground. Emilia Brine lay hovering in the gulf between waking and dreaming, her tangled, dirty mass of hair resting on her brother¡¯s arm as he lay deeply asleep. The soft crackling of the fire was the only sound other than their gentle breathing, the swamp that lay a stone¡¯s throw to their south as eerily silent as it had ever been. A sudden kick to the back of her head sent her bolting upright, scattering the stones of the rocky ground, tearing a few new holes in her clothes as she wrenched to her feet. Her young face twisted into a mask of anger as she glowered, already swearing terrible vengeance on the perpetrator, swears that died as she saw that her younger sister, Havi, was caught in the thrall of a nightmare. Emilia¡¯s frown softened into a gentle, concerned smile as she ran her webbed fingers through Havi¡¯s rough hair, the corners of her eyes pinching in the strange happiness of being able to help one you love. Emilia¡¯s voice carried softly through the silent night as she began to sing


    ¡°Do not fear, the cloudy night


    Though it hides, the stars


    Do not fear, the crashing waves


    Though they twist, and turn


    Do not fear, sweet child


    Do not fear.¡±


    Havi settled back into the embrace of sweeter dreams. Her breathing slow and even as she snuggled further into Emilia¡¯s embrace. Emilia hummed the simple song as she supported her sister with one arm, while the other ran gently through Havi¡¯s hair. ¡°You¡¯re lucky I love you as much as I do sis,¡± Emilia whispered ¡°Or I would have dumped you in the ocean for that kick.¡± Havi just smiled, the whispers no doubt becoming far more comforting through the filter of her dream. Emilia sighed gently, looking over the horrible state of their camp. She knew, despite Vikkar¡¯s attempts to hide it, that things were bad. The last of their food was lying in the single Mantuke skin pack in between the place they slept and the fire, enough for a single day if they were careful. Their water was running dangerously low as well, and Vikkar had nearly gotten his hands shredded when he tried to refill them in the clear waters of the swamp. Their boat was ruined, the bottom completely shredded by the rocks that hid just beneath the sand of the island¡¯s beaches. And the only people they could turn to for help were the Mantis that arrived on the island shortly after they did, but none of the three spoke their language, and their small few attempts at communication were just short of hostile. Emilia sighed, but not in hopelessness, in frustration. She trusted her brother, he had been taking care of her and her sister since they were born and experience had made him pretty good at it by her standards. He would save them somehow, she knew this as surely as she knew the sun rose and the sea was green.


    But it never hurt to ask for help. So as Emilia held her sister, she offered a short prayer to the Great Mother. A short wordless prayer, more a thrust of intention than anything tangible, that asked simply for any help that could be found. A gentle breeze rose, as if in answer, bringing the comforting scent of the ocean and stirring the crackling flames as Emilia was carried into the gentle embrace of her own dreams.


    Emilia was awoken as the sun rose over the horizon, painting the sky in gentle hues as it drove out the dark. A great clamor was rising in the swamp. The sounds of crashing trees and the screaming of beasts that Emilia had never seen, and never wanted to, rose like a clarion call to war. The permanent mist that enshrouded the swamp made it impossible to tell what was happening, but whatever it was could not be good. Vikkar and Havi were awake now as well, rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Emilia swiftly began to gather their supplies, slinging the food pack and their waterskins over her back and taking the ax they used to cut firewood in her free hand, ready to begin running at a moments notice. Vikkar wrapped Havi in the blanket they shared, using it as a kind of sling to hold the girl against his back, revealing the horrible burns that covered his legs from foot to thigh as he did. The crashing was growing closer. As the trio watched a multitude of shadowy shapes, just visible within the mist, began to skitter along the edge; clear in their intent to move out of the way of whatever approached. One of these shapes, one of the horrible eight legged demons that Emilia had seen briefly when Vikkar had tried to collect the water, fell and began screaming in the awful clarion that had awoken Emilia as it was shredded by the fish below. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    And then all was still. The crashing stopped as suddenly as it had started. Replacing it was the sound of their hearts beating. And the sound of their breaths drawing air. A soft padding came then. Then a shuffling as if of bare feet on loose earth. Then the soft plop of those feet hitting the water. Emilia¡¯s fingers tightened on the ax. She heard the soft whisper of steel being freed from leather. She knew Vikkar had drawn his dagger. Then a figure appeared in the mist. For a moment, the barest instant, it looked to her a legion of beasts of all shapes. Then she blinked and it was a man.


    A big jolly looking man wearing a simple robe that Emilia could swear was made of bark by the pattern of it, but flowed like cloth surely enough. An odd man to her eyes, he looked almost like a Riddari, but his fingers had no webbing, and his neck had no gills. Very strange indeed. The man waved at them, his face lit up by a friendly smile. Then he began walking in their direction, his bare feet seemingly unbothered by the rough and rocky ground. Emilia kept her ax at the ready, suspecting some demonic witchery to be afoot. But as she saw the man¡¯s eyes she felt herself relax, if only a little. His eyes were old, older than the rest of him for sure, and they were kind. She didn¡¯t put the axe down however.


    ¡°Hello!¡± The man bellowed ¡°Sorry if I¡¯ve disturbed you.¡± The man drew up to them, easily standing at twice Emilia¡¯s height. ¡°My name is Lupin O¡¯Hara, I do hope I haven¡¯t caused you any distress.¡± The man, Lupin held out one large hand to her brother.


    ¡°You nearly had us jumping out of our skin, but no harm done.¡± Vikkar placed his hand inside Lupin¡¯s, the latter dwarfing his own. Emilia watched Vikkar squint as he looked at Lupin¡¯s face, the bright morning sun reflecting rather harshly off the man¡¯s bald head. Emilia also saw that Vikkar still held the dagger pressed against his leg, ready to be used if it had to be.


    ¡°Believe me I would have been quieter if I could, but circumstances did not allow for subtlety.¡± Lupin looked them all over, his eyes noticeably lingering on the holes in their clothes and their sandals that were nearly worn down by sea water and travel. ¡°Dear me. I mean no offense when I say that you all are looking a bit worse for wear. Are you all in need of some assistance?¡±


    Emilia saw her brother taking his moment to think through his response. Normally she¡¯d be willing to wait for him, and she¡¯d trust whatever he decided. But the memory of her small prayer the night before, and the honest care she saw in the man¡¯s eyes made her as certain as an 11 year old girl can be, that Lupin, whatever he may be, could be trusted. ¡°We could use some help,¡± Emilia said, letting her grip on the ax loosen until it swung listless at her side, ¡°We¡¯ve got little food and water, we can¡¯t find any of either except in the swamp you came from, the only other people on the island are Mantis, and we don¡¯t speak the language.¡±


    ¡°Well that doesn¡¯t sound too hard to fix. If you all show me the way to town I¡¯ll translate for you, see if we can¡¯t work something out.¡± Lupin grinned down at her with a twinkle in his eye. ¡°And if we can¡¯t I¡¯ll get you all something to eat and drink, and we can figure it all out again from there.¡± He turned to Vikkar now and offered.


    ¡°We¡¯d be in your debt sir.¡± Vikkar said, nodding as he put his knife away and shifted Havi¡¯s blanket on his shoulders.


    ¡°Non-sense, I¡¯m always more than happy to help. Comes with the territory, and I¡¯m all the happier for it.¡± Lupin waved Vikkar¡¯s thanks away before rubbing his chin as if trying to remember something he¡¯d forgotten. Then he slapped the top of his thigh in realization, ¡°Oh dear, I apologize for my lack of manners, I never asked for your names.¡±


    ¡°No need for an apology, it was us who failed to offer them. I¡¯m Vikkar, this little one is Havi Brine and that little one is Emilia Brine.¡± Vikkar offered, Emilia offering a smile and a wave when she was introduced. Havi was still acting wary and hiding behind Vikkar¡¯s shoulder, but that was hardly anything new. ¡°And what territory would it be exactly that makes you so willing to help us? Out of curiosity.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m a Wizard dear boy.¡± Lupin laughed.

 Chapter 2: Settling in before Breakfast

    Vikkar stared at the man in front of him in utter incomprehension. What on earth was a Wizard? Still, the man said he could translate for them and if it turned out he was just a lunatic it wasn¡¯t like their situation could realistically get much worse. ¡°Right. Well Mr. O¡¯Hara, town is right this way, if you would follow me.¡± Lupin had briefly considered making the man walk in front of him, but decided that it really wouldn¡¯t do much good. The man was massive, and Vikkar could tell by the way he held himself that it wasn¡¯t all fat. If Lupin had wanted to kill them he would have just had to fall forward and that would be the end of it. So it was best, in Vikkar¡¯s opinion, to just get on with it.


    Walking on the island was a rather simple affair outside of the swamp. The earth was flat and it would take little more than 15 minutes to jog from one end to the other. Lupin didn¡¯t give silence any time to settle in as they walked, ¡°I must say child that you gave me quite a fright with how you held that ax of yours. You must be quite the storied hero back home ay?¡±


    ¡°Oh of course. Back home everyone always called me the next Stormcaller, Scourge of the Seas.¡± Emilia hefted the ax above her head, doing her best to look fearsome. Unfortunately she mostly looked filthy.


    ¡°Don¡¯t leave out that the reason they call you that was your inexplicable ability to sink rowboats before you even left the dock.¡± Vikkar chuckled as he adjusted Havi¡¯s sling on his back. The poor girl had sunk herself completely into the covers, not wanting to be seen. He knew Emilia would be glowering at him. She¡¯d come to love the Stormcaller nickname as she grew up, and he¡¯d come to love reminding her of its origin.


    ¡°Oh shove off Vik, you know more than anyone that I earned that name a thousand times over after that, admittedly unfortunate, incident. First of my age to sail a kite ship, the youngest ever to be able to draw the entire star chart from memory, and I even beat Havden the Bear in a duel!¡± The sun was still rising off to their right causing them to cast long, spindly shadows. A gentle breeze followed the light, bringing cool air and the sound of ocean spray with it.


    ¡°When he was piss drunk, sure.¡± The town was in view now. The Mantis¡¯ living homes cast in their strange translucent green, and the whole town wreathed in dark shadows by the dawn light.


    ¡°The man is four times my size, it still counts!¡± Emilia complained, but there was no doubt in Vikkar¡¯s mind that she was beaming at the chance to brag.


    ¡°Well you can colour me impressed.¡± The big man laughed. ¡°Those buildings up ahead are fascinating. They¡¯re alive aren¡¯t they?¡± They were close enough now to see the buildings shifting as they breathed. Vikkar found the sight a little unsettling when paired with the long shadows they cast, as if they entire place was a mass of undulating darkness.


    ¡°Yes, the Mantis grow their houses out of type of seed, and then cause it to rapidly grow and take the shape they want with the magic of their Singers. It¡¯s interesting, not sure I¡¯d ever want to live in one truth be told.¡± Just watch them from outside was giving him goosebumps, let alone actually having to be inside one.


    A pair of guards peeled off from the shadows of the town approached them, each carrying a wickedly barbed spear and encased head to toe in the red chitin of their exo-skeleton. Lupin took the lead now. The guards leveled their spears at him as he approached and accosted him in the rapid fire clicking of Mantis speech. ¡®Here¡¯s the moment of truth, is he a mad man or our salvation?¡¯ Vikkar thought.


    Lupin fired back in the same rapid clicking, and just for a moment it seemed to Vikker that his mouth was not quite moving in time with the sounds he was making. Then he blinked and everything was as it should be. The conversation went on for quite some time, seeming to grow quite heated, before Lupin settled them down with a series of harsh, angry clicking. The guards seemed to level wrathful glares at Vikkar and his sisters before one turned to leave and the other waved them to follow. ¡°Rather reluctant fellows I must say. Something about not playing host to Riddari savages or some other. A promise of some basic magics got us a room for the night and food at least.¡± Lupin shrugged and began to follow the Mantis.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    ¡°I apologize for causing you so much trouble Mr. O¡¯Hara. Our people are quite warlike, so I suppose their reticence is understandable.¡± Vikkar offered, falling into step behind the large man.


    ¡°I¡¯d much rather accept your thanks than an apology dear boy. On the matter of your people¡¯s penchant for war; I don¡¯t care how bloodthirsty they might be it will never constitute a reason to turn away starving children at the door.¡± Lupin glowered. ¡°But such matters are resolved for now, let us tarry no longer when breakfast awaits.¡± They were led down the straight, measured streets of the town to a larger building near the docks. Flowers had begun to bloom on the surface, running in spiral patterns around the side that faced north, towards the sea. Their guide, acting for all the world their jailer, waved them hastily inside.


    Vikkar was surprised by how warm it was, the chill of the early morning air nothing but a memory in the interior. The floor was soft and springy, made of the same translucent plant matter as the walls. Sunlight was filtering through, painting everything  a slightly warmer shade of green. There were no furnishings in sight, unless the dark wood boxes piled high were counted as such. Vikker was used to much worse floors as of late, and saw little need to fuss over something so small. ¡°With the way the guard was acting I was half expecting a damp room of dark stone to be our refuge. I must say I¡¯m pleasantly surprised.¡±


    ¡°Certainly not the worst place I¡¯ve ever put my feet up in.¡± Lupin grumbled, ¡°Let me see if I can¡¯t fix us up a proper dining area before anyone has the chance to complain.¡± Lupin walked to the first of the crates and popped the lid open with his finger tips. ¡°We¡¯re in luck! Unworked ingots, of what I assume to be iron.¡± Lupin ran his fingers along the crate and Vikkar watched in astonishment as the planks that formed it split from each other and floated in the air. Lupin conducted them with a series of terse movements. The planks moved and formed a small, basic table and a set of chairs. They were understandably rough to the touch and the nails hanging out of them did not lend any sense of comfort to the viewer, but they were usable.


    Lupin then grabbed one ingot from the pile left behind and began to mold the iron as though it were clay. ¡°Wow.¡± Emilia breathed from beside Vikkar, ¡°He¡¯s a Windcaller Vik.¡± Emilia ran up to Lupin¡¯s side and began barraging him with questions. Vikkar shook his head in disbelief his mind stuck between asserting that the events of today could only be found in dreams and the knowledge that everything had decided to happen anyway. He untied the blanket from around himself, gently lowering Havi to the ground. Once on the floor she wrapped herself in the blanket like a pearl caught in seaweed.


    The guard returned with a sack slung over his shoulder. Vikkar watched him bristle at the sight of the crate¡¯s repurposing. After letting out a few disgruntled clicking noises he handed his burden to Vikkar and stalked off. A handful of vegetables and small chunks of meat were all that was given to them, but combined with the rations they already had on hand, they could make a decent meal for the first time in what was probably weeks. ¡°They brought us the rations,¡± Vikkar called bringing the sack over to Lupin who had now finished molding a pan and a few sets of cutlery out of the iron.


    The man¡¯s face soured as he looked over the contents, ¡°This ain¡¯t near to being enough for growing boys and girls, unbelievable. I¡¯ll be back in a shake.¡± Lupin set the sack and his fashioned tools down onto the table and made towards the door.


    ¡°What are you gonna do now? Are you gonna go beat up the guard who¡¯s been all rude?¡± Emilia bounced along side him, brimming with excited energy.


    ¡°As much as I would like to give him a piece of my mind, no. I figure we¡¯re close by the sea, and I happen to have a knack for fishing.¡± Then the pair was off, the sounds of their further conversation muffled through the walls. Vikkar let out a soft sigh, half at the overall bizarreness of the day, half in relaxed comfort as he settled back into his chair.


    ¡°What do you think of our benefactor Havi? He¡¯s a bit odd, but he also seems rather earnest in helping us.¡± Vikkar grinned at his sister who had begun to fiddle with the iron cutlery on the table.


    ¡°I like him,¡± Her voice was soft, barely audible. It was a common occurance back on the Flotilla that her voice was mistaken for wind hitting the sails, or water bubbling in the tread of the giant ship. ¡°He¡¯s good. His eyes remind me of Ada¡¯s, but Lupin¡¯s are a bit harder, like he¡¯s seen something that won¡¯t leave him be.¡± Those who had heard Havi back on the Flotilla had learned very quickly that despite her short 6 years, she hardly talked like a child.


    Vikkar sat back, a familiar , comfortable silence falling over the pair. The sounds of chaos were beginning to filter in from outside. But Vikkar made no move to investigate, deciding to trust this stranger who¡¯d crashed rather suddenly into their lives.

 Chapter 3: A Breakfast of Fish, a Game to Awaken

    Havi sat comfortably in her chair listening to the pleasant sound of frying fish. Lupin had brought back a net full of them, and then Emilia had dragged in a second. Now Lupin was frying them after the fish skinned and boned themselves in the air in front of him. It was magical, in a very literal sense.


    Vikkar placed a plateful of fish with various sides made of the rest of their rations. The fork Lupin had made was heavier than she was used to but she managed to wield it with at least a smattering of grace. She began to dig in and was so enthralled by the flavours of the first fresh food she¡¯d had in weeks that she didn¡¯t notice everyone settling in around her. ¡°Thank you for the meal Lupin,¡± Vikkar said, ¡°How long will you be able to stay with us? I¡¯m afraid we¡¯ve grown quite reliant on your kindness.¡± She could tell how much that question chafed at her brother, being in debt and still in need of a stranger who owed them nothing.


    ¡°I don¡¯t intend to vanish on you quite so soon. And the circumstances that led me to this small island leave me with very little pressing concerns.¡± Lupin was practically inhaling his food, leaving Havi baffled as to how he got the words out at all. ¡°So tell me, why are you three out here?¡±


    Vikkar¡¯s expression dropped. She¡¯d seen this expression a lot since they¡¯d been at sea, a mixture of guilt, worry, anger and no small measure of pain. He went silent for a few moments chewing over a response. ¡°That¡¯s not a long story.¡± He said simply, ¡°But one that isn¡¯t easy in the telling.¡±


    ¡°Well we can work our way there, I¡¯m not here to interrogate you.¡± Lupin stretched as he stood, then began another round of fish frying. ¡°Is it easier to tell me what your plans are from here on out?¡± came the deep bass of his voice accompanied by the sizzle of the fish. Emilia was already standing up to be the first in line for seconds.


    ¡°That is easier, though I¡¯m afraid there really isn¡¯t much to say. Before our boat ran aground on this island we were trying to travel east along the Cressian Flow to the Fanim. The people there hate the Riddari almost as much as the Mantis do, but they have a lot more to hate so we¡¯d at least be able to make some sort of living there instead of just being turned around at the gate. I haven¡¯t really planned beyond that. This is the first time any of us have left the Flotilla for longer than a single voyage. And to be honest I feel more than a little lost.¡± Vikkar was just pushing food around on his plate now, Havi took the opportunity to steal a chav from his plate. The small red root tasted all the sweeter for being stolen, and for Vikkar¡¯s smile at her mischief.


    ¡°I see. I¡¯ll say that¡¯s a better plan than I had when I ran away from home, but not by much. Were you having troubles with your family? Or maybe just some good old wanderlust in your veins?.¡± Havi watched as Vikkar squirmed. Family troubles was pretty close on the mark. He started scratching at his burns again, he always did that when he thought about how they left home.


    ¡°It was only supposed to be me,¡± Vikkar¡¯s voice came out soft, his eyes turned down to his plate; but Havi knew that wasn¡¯t what he was looking at. ¡°I broke a taboo, I betrayed everything that everyone I¡¯d ever known had ever done for me. Even worse, I tried to hide it. But of course I couldn¡¯t, sins don¡¯t stay buried, even at sea. I was dragged in chains to the very center of the Flotilla, I was stripped of my name, my belongings, and the tattoos on my legs were burned off. My achievements were struck from all record, everything about me intentionally forgotten. I was given a small boat and 3 days worth of food, and told to sail as far as the wind would take me. So my body wouldn¡¯t return to the flotilla until the sun had judged and cleansed me.¡± Emilia took Vikkar¡¯s hand now, his scratching had drawn a thin stream of blood that ran down the scarred flesh of his leg. ¡°The one who listed and carried out my sentence was my own father, and he was helped by my teacher who I thought of as a father. So family troubles seems the most accurate.¡± He looked up at Emilia and smiled, running his free hand through her messy hair. ¡°Then these two hellions chased after me in a stolen windrunner. And until you came along Mr. O¡¯Hara I was sure that I was going to have to watch them starve, because of my failings.¡±


    Silence reigned for a few moments. Lupin put his hand on Vikkar¡¯s shoulder, ¡°That was a bit heavier than I expected. I¡¯m sorry lad, I wish I had something worth saying.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s just, I¡¯ve been trying not to think about it. Just shutting it out, so I could keep going, so I could try and make it somewhere safe. It all just came to me at once, everything replaying as if it had happened an hour ago rather than almost a month. Combine that with how relieved I am that Emilia and Havi are fed and happy, and honestly I¡¯m surprised I¡¯m not crying.¡± Vikkar smiled weakly as he tussled Emilia¡¯s hair. Havi climbed into his lap and laid herself back against his chest. She felt his steady breaths and knew he wasn¡¯t hiding anything just to be strong for her and her sister.


    ¡°You¡¯re a tougher man than I, I¡¯d be crying like a baby.¡± Lupin said his face serious, ¡°I normally wouldn¡¯t ask what crime you committed, but I have an offer that I would like you to consider. For you and your sisters.¡± Havi felt her eyes drawn to Lupin, something in his voice demanding her attention. She saw a man of blood and iron, a warrior whose presence stilled the very air around them. ¡°But I need to know what you did before a word of it will leave my lips.¡± Vikkar looked at their saviour. Havi watched as he took his moment, considering as he always did when something was important. She saw him bury his pride, and accept the pain that would come from admission. Vikkar set her down on the table, still wrapped in her blanket. Then he leaned close to Lupin and whispered something too quiet for Havi to hear. After he did, Lupin laughed, dispelling the man of war he had been only moments before. He clapped Vikkar on the shoulders, ¡°I would be more inclined to call you a pioneer than a criminal dear boy. My fears are allayed and now I feel free to ask, would you three like to be my apprentices? To learn the ways of magic and travel the world helping those in need? To defend the Tapestry, for all it¡¯s falsehood, against those who would unravel it?¡±


    Havi didn¡¯t hear a single word after magic, but then that was enough for her to have her answer. She could tell by the grin on her sister¡¯s face that it was the same for her as well. Vikkar was taking his moment, but she could already tell what his answer would be. There was a childish glint in his eyes now, one that she hadn¡¯t seen since they were one happy family on the Flotilla. ¡°When would we start?¡± Vikkar asked, as a grin worked its way across his face.


    ¡°I¡¯m always inclined to start as early as possible, which would be now. The road of magic is long and quite often difficult and at times even the simplest of magics can be very dangerous. But fear not, for I will be here to guide you.¡± Lupin grinned as he looked over the three of them. Havi wondered what he saw, three young faces full of hope? Full of wonder? ¡°Your first lesson will also be a kind of test.¡±


    ¡°When do we start?¡± Vikkar asked ¡°And what do we need to do?¡± Havi felt something then, a shifting in the room, more pronounced than the breathing the living home had done so far. She turned to look towards the door, but it was gone. The entire building was gone in fact, and it had taken her family with it. Replacing it was a dune of pitch black sand that shifted in a wind she could not feel.


    Havi felt strangely calm about the experience. She looked up to the sky, letting her blanket fall into the sand. The stars she knew were gone as well. Only a single star hung in the dark sky, letting off a pale light that barely illuminated the land below it. Havi walked towards the star, but stopped short in front of a silver line. It curved from in front of her and back in both directions, forming a circle that she could just barely make out now that she was looking for it. Havi knew, without knowing how, that crossing that line would bear terrible consequences.


    Something called her, and she whipped around. There was an indistinct, shadowy figure beckoning to her. It was sitting at a table with figures lined up on either side like soldiers standing at attention. Havi walked intending to sit at the table, but the open seat was sitting just past the silver line. The figure gestured to the seat offering it to her. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± Havi said, her voice booming across the silence of¡­ wherever she was. ¡°I can¡¯t sit there, it¡¯s past the line.¡±


    The figure gestured again, this time with a slight flair of anger added to the motion. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± Havi said again. The figure huffed inaudibly, then stood and moved the set so the table straddled the silver line in the sand, then it slid one of the chairs over to her. Havi took note of how the figure never crossed the line. She sat and looked over the pieces on the board. They sat in two rows, each eight across. The first row was eight uniform pieces carved of beautiful white stone. Sitting behind them were eight pieces with different designs. There were three pairs set mirroring each other across the meridian of the board. The pair farthest from the center were two longships set into a base of waves, that were carved so beautifully she could almost see them move. Just inside of them were a pair of windrunners and at their helm sat tiny carvings of Emilia. Another step closer to the center were statues of Vikkar in the traditional priest clothes he wore whenever he had led ceremonies on the Flotilla. Center right had a carving of a gorgeous woman wearing a tiny golden crown, a set of splendid robes and carrying a scepter of bone. Looking at her made Havi sad for no reason she could name. Center left had a carving of Lupin but he was constantly shifting. Features that looked decidedly animal appeared and disappeared between one moment and the next.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The figure across from her motioned for her to play. ¡°I don¡¯t know how.¡± Havi said, getting a little annoyed at her impatient specter. It motioned for her to touch a piece, any piece. Havi placed her hand on one of the uniform pieces in the front row, the one in front of Lupin. It spoke to her, whispered its name and position in her mind ¡®Pawn, d2¡¯. It told her how it moved and she pushed it forward two spaces to d4. Her opponent mirrored her move. Havi moved the pawn at c2 to c4 thinking the one at e4 would be stronger with a friend. As her hand left the pawn it whispered to her how it attacks and she panicked, realising that her opponent would be able to take it for free. She breathed out a sigh of relief when her opponent chose to play e7 to e6 instead.


    Havi puzzled over this, she knew she didn¡¯t understand the game but she couldn¡¯t see the reason her opponent hadn¡¯t taken the pawn. She decided that if her opponent hadn¡¯t taken there was probably a reason she shouldn¡¯t either. So she placed her hand on one of the windrunners ¡°Horse, b1¡±. Horse was a strange thing to call a windrunner, but Havi decided that the game must have been made in a different language. She placed the Horse at c3. Her opponent was getting visibly more impatient each time Havi stopped to think about a move and practically slammed their own horse from g8 to f6. Havi placed her hand on the Vikkar at c1 ¡°Bishop, c1¡±, then she moved it to threaten her opponent¡¯s knight, trying to make it so they were the one thinking for once.


    When her hand crossed the middle of the board she felt it go numb. She¡¯d forgotten about the line in the sand below her. Her hand had become little more than a mass of shadow, and she watched in horror as the right hand of her opponent became more physical as her¡¯s disappeared. There was no pain, just a sense of loss, and then no feeling at all. Tears began welling in her eyes regardless as her opponent mocked her with a flourish  of their new hand, moving the horse from b8 to d7. ¡°I hope you rot,¡± Havi bit the words off with as much spite as she could manage.


    Havi pushed the pawn at e2 to e3 so that her pawns at d4 and c4 were protected, feeling a lot less adventurous now. Her opponent played the pawn at c7 to c6 which Havi followed by moving the horse at g1 to f3. Her opponent advanced the piece opposite Lupin that Havi didn¡¯t know the name of yet from d8 to a5. That didn¡¯t look good to Havi, not that she had any real idea whether it was or not, so she started moving her horse over to defend moving it from f3 to d2. The bishop on f8 moved to join the offensive, traveling to b4.


    Havi decided that she needed to know what the piece behind the bishop did and put her hand on Lupin ¡°Queen, d1¡±. Under different circumstances she would have laughed at Lupin being the Queen, but instead she moved him to c2 a bit of panic running through her. Her opponent baffled her by moving two pieces at once, placing the remaining center piece on g8 and moving the ship on h8 to f8. She was about to accuse it of cheating, but she stopped herself. Even if it was cheating she¡¯d be able to do the same thing herself in a second. She moved the bishop at f1 to d3, thinking that it might be able to help defend her knight if it was that close.


    A sense of laughter flowed from the other side of the table as her opponent took the pawn at c4 with the pawn at d5.  Not knowing what was so funny Havi took back with the horse on d2. Then she felt her mouth go numb as the opposing queen took her bishop on g5. The laughter was real then, the horrible thing across from her laughing with her mouth, with her voice. ¡°How foolish, have you tried thinking before you move your pieces? It tends to help.¡± The thing berated her before dissolving into laughter again.


    Retorts rose in Havi¡¯s throat, and died there. No sound could leave lips that weren¡¯t yours anymore. She knew things were bad, but she still had two pieces she hadn¡¯t moved yet. She placed her hand on the piece at e1. No name was whispered to her, instead a thousand thousand ghosts of memories came unbidden to her, flooding in all at once. Her anger and fear drained away, replaced by embarrassment.


    How could she have played so poorly? She was better than that, far better than that. People had broken down in tears playing against her, people had thrown the board in frustration. No one had ever laughed and she¡¯d make this specter regret ever sitting at the board. The game no longer confused her, every inch of it feeling more familiar than her own home now. She was king, and this was her kingdom.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter, do you not want to play anymore? I¡¯d graciously accept your forfeit.¡± The specter cackled. An armada of scathing retorts died in Havi¡¯s throat, which made her anger rise. The game state was bad for sure, but this could be fixed. And she would make her specter suffer, it would beg her to finish the game. A plan was already growing, from a drizzle to a storm. The next 15 moves proceeded lightning fast and as the dust settled the game was back to even. The specter had left itself open to a fork and thrown away the last of its advantage.


    With her lips back in her possession Havi decided to be merciful, ¡°I¡¯ll give you this one chance to surrender. It will not be available later.¡± She saw the specter scoff dismissively. Havi smiled.


    The specter¡¯s army was hunted with extreme prejudice across the board. Its defenses were exploited and every time it tried to seize the initiative it would find the opportunity to be nothing but fog leading it deeper into dangerous waters.


    With every piece that Havi took from her opponent she felt herself gaining a new sense.  A surreal kind of knowledge, as if she was experiencing a new spectrum of color that had truly been there all along. Nothing was real, she knew now with absolute certainty. Everything about the world she came from, from the fact that things fell to the way water flowed. All of it was a lie, nothing but a thin layer of order over a seething bed of chaos.


    Laughter seemed the only appropriate response to this revelation. Magic wasn¡¯t some mystical reworking of the world. It didn¡¯t work by replacing reality with the desire of the mage. It worked because nothing was real to begin with and it might as well be whatever you wanted, instead of what it was. Havi stopped laughing when her opponent played the winning move, or rather what would have been the winning move if it were legal. ¡°You can¡¯t do that, that¡¯s not how it works.¡± Havi bristled, feeling personally insulted by this disregard for the game.


    Who¡¯s to say what is illegal, or even what is wrong or right, if everything is a lie? The specter asked, the previous arrogance nowhere to be seen.


    ¡°Chess is a beautiful game because of its rules. If you take the rules away the game is meaningless. And you don¡¯t just kill the game, you kill all the beauty contained within, and I will not tolerate such flagrant barbarity.¡± The pieces moved back to where they should be, the game ready to be resumed. The specter was as formless as it had ever been, but Havi could feel the grin plastered on its face.


    I surrender. As the words hung in the air the specter moved to lay down its king. The surprise Havi could feel from it as she grabbed its arm made the numbness running up her arm more than worth it.


    ¡°I seem to remember saying you would not have the chance to do so. I still have 4 pawns I can turn into horses, and I have absolutely no intention of letting you ruin my fun just because you¡¯ve lost interest.¡± If this specter could feel fear, Havi was absolutely sure it would be feeling it now. Fifty tortuous moves later the specter was mated using only horses, and if it truly existed at all it would never forget this match.


    And then the board and pieces were gone. Havi was back to the center of the circle. At her feet was a silver brick. She picked it up and brought it to the silver line. It fit easily and exactly, made for just this purpose. After she had placed it she saw another brick sitting right next to her feet. She placed it next to the first and repeated the cycle.


    Time blurred as she finished ring after ring of silver bricks until she had built a dome. It would not be this shape forever, she knew, but for now this would be more than good enough. In the center rose a small obelisk formed from the black sand on which Havi stood. She walked towards it and carved a single word at the very top. The word was a name, her name. The name she had never known she had, until just this moment.

 Chapter 4: Awakening

    ¡°Awakening is a strange process by which Sleepers are awoken to the nature of reality. It is a journey, unique to every individual, that forces a young mage to see the nature of the Tapestry for the first time. An Awakening also imparts some form of knowledge to the recipient. The exact nature of this knowledge is, once again, unique to the individual and it¡¯s source is a subject that is debated quite heatedly among scholar magi. Regardless, Awakening is always the first step in a young magus¡¯ education and must be undertaken with proper diligence and care at every step. Proper safety protocols start with...¡±


    -Anatolius ¡°On the Education of New Magi¡±


    Vikkar stood at his desk at the front of his classroom. The eyes of his students were locked onto him; fresh, bright and lively eyes. Vikkar had grown to take great personal pride in how ready his students were to learn. He¡¯d been with this particular group for six years now and they were still as sharp and ready as the day they started. There was a niggling at the back of his mind for just a second, a little voice that seemed to know nothing about his long career as an educator and was demanding to know what exactly was going on. But then it was gone, and it was time for class to begin.


    ¡°Welcome back everyone, did you enjoy your break?¡± The group of thirty students gave a low rumble of assent, many of them smiling as they did so. ¡°I was very pleased to hear that all of you chose to join the work study that Professor Zeta arranged. I will be the first to tell you that as a doctor, you can truly never have too much hands on experience.¡± The class laughed at that, Vikkar was stuck for a moment wondering why. He¡¯d said it as a joke, of course, but suddenly he couldn¡¯t remember why it was funny. Was he going senile? That shouldn¡¯t be possible.


    He was torn suddenly from his ruminations by a question from the first row, ¡°Excuse me professor, I don¡¯t mean to interrupt your thoughts, but what will the lecture be about today?¡± That would be Vera, a Njol from the Wild Lands and one of his brightest and most talented students. The back of her head down to her waist was shadow that shifted with the same twitching cadence of fire. A trait common to the Njol, although the location of the shadow varied between individuals.


    ¡°Ah, my apologies I was lost in thought for a moment. Our lecture today will be a live dissection. We will be discussing the anatomy of the Riddari. And before you ask, no I am not the subject.¡± The students tittered politely. ¡°I do personally know our subject however. My father passed away last week, and he made a request of me. As you know, until very recently, it was absolutely taboo among my people to perform any sort of research on the dead. My father personally overturned that law, and donated himself into our care to help get rid of the stigma that many still have regarding the practice.¡± Vikkar heard the doors opening behind him. Moments later a table with a thin sheet of gauze laid over its occupant was wheeled into the center of the room and then the wheels were locked to prevent it from moving further. Vikkar walked out from behind his desk and started towards the table. The assistants that had wheeled in the table also left a rack with all his familiar tools.


    Preparing to begin the presentation, Vikkar reached for the familiar pathways of his magic to clean his hands. A practice that wasn¡¯t strictly necessary but he was in no rush to remove this particular habit. He grasped, looking past the reality before him into the Arcanum. He leaned on the transient nature of all reality and removed the dirt and any other contaminants from his hands and workspace as easily as breathing. It had never truly existed in the first place. Nothing truly did.


    Vikkar started panicking, the strange memories vanishing fast. He was back to being the same lost 20 year old who had almost died on Krassus; the old, confident professor gone like smoke. He looked over the tools laid out in front of him, then turned and looked over the class. Thirty faces looked down at him blending with a very different crowd in his memories. That crowd had been just as silent though. That crowd had held the same expectant look, as if their breath was caught just before exhalation. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Vikkar found himself pulling back the gauze. This man had been there with the last crowd as well, though he¡¯d been more alive then and he¡¯d looked taller when Vikkar had been in chains. He¡¯d been positively effervescent by all accounts the last time Vikkar had seen him, marching up and down the square and giving a sermon every bit as lively and infectious as any Vikkar himself had ever given. Aeoren Brine, Warcheif of the Riddari.


    Vikkar felt rage rising in him. It bubbled and boiled in his veins like the oil that had mangled and scarred his legs. The oil that this man in front of him had poured. And for what? For trying to understand? For trying to learn? Vikkar had dreamt of tearing this man apart and always woke up happier. And now he could, couldn¡¯t he?


    ¡°Teacher?¡± Vera¡¯s voice snapped Vikkar out of the fog he¡¯d wrapped himself in. ¡°Is everything alright?¡± The students were all looking at him with worried frowns now. Looking from them to his father Vikkar felt his anger ebbing away. His exile, his pain, his anger; these were all just temporary fixtures in a world he now knew to be riding always on a sea of chaos, and what were they truly worth? A bit of catharsis was the most they¡¯d ever get him.


    This classroom, and these students weren¡¯t real, but then nothing really was. Their possibility was worth infinitely more than holding onto what had been his reality. Vikkar turned to his tools and addressed the class, ¡°Before I begin, tell me: what is the purpose of dissection?¡±


    A few hesitant murmurs came, the question seemed too simple and therefore it had to be a trap. ¡°To save lives?¡± That was Grayson, a Demon Touched with the head of a bear. It wasn¡¯t a bad answer, Vikkar thought as he turned a knife in his hands. But it wasn¡¯t a good one either.


    ¡°The purpose of dissection is to learn. What we do with that knowledge is an entirely different matter, but your firm moral stance is comforting. When we open up a cadaver we do so in order to understand how it worked when it was alive. We study that one creature down to the smallest minutia. We do this to study the rest of its race by proxy. This form of learning is especially valuable to you and I. In order for us to fix what ails a creature, we must know its natural state.¡± Vikkar felt a great weight sloughing off of him as he spoke. ¡°While we do this to heal, others can use the same practice and the same knowledge to bring harm. It is our own choices that make all the difference.¡± He had held so dearly to these ideas in secret, and never realised how much they had eaten at him until a good man had died on his table. Died because Vikkar didn¡¯t know enough, couldn¡¯t know enough. And then Vikkar had found himself dissecting that same man by torchlight in a stolen rowboat. Here and now Vikkar could air these thoughts, and the satisfaction he felt at watching them nod in agreement made this moment the happiest of his life.


    Vikkar began, the sight of his father no longer filling him with rage, or any emotion really. He still hated the man, but Vikkar had moved past him. ¡°Now listen very closely¡­¡± the lecture proceeded, the names of the various body parts and their functions coming to Vikkar as he saw them. The operation flowed like a trance until there was no longer a corpse in front of Vikkar but instead a few neat piles of bone, muscle and viscera.


    When Vikkar looked up from the operation table the classroom was gone. In front of him was a realm of scintillating light. Each moment the light was forming into visions from a thousand different realities before collapsing and reforming into something entirely different. Vikkar felt it would be too easy to forget himself in these visions. He could just watch the infinite possibilities until his breath ran out. But he had a purpose now. He would make that classroom a reality, and he would become a doctor worthy of teaching it and no amount of pretty lights would distract him from that task.


    Vikker looked down, by his feet was a blood red brick. He placed it down, and found another ready to be placed. The simple motion lulled him into a trance and with each brick that he placed a new sense opened up to him. The world around him had been whispering countless secrets all this time, and until now he had been deaf. When he finished a dome stood before him, a white obelisk at its center. Vikkar stood before it and carved his true name at its base, taking his first step into the world of magic.

 Chapter 5: Awakening (2)

    ¡°Perhaps the most curious thing about Awakening is how it challenges us. Nearly every record that we¡¯ve managed to gather (which isn¡¯t many mind you, too many magi consider Awakening a very private affair) suggest that Awakening does not challenge who we are. But rather challenges our idea of who we want to be. We need more to study to be completely sure, I suggest¡­¡±


    Ar¡¯Cato ¡°Letters to Fillador¡±


    Emilia shielded her eyes from the burning light overhead. She didn¡¯t know where she was, but that was alright. She knew where she was going. There was a mountain distantly in front of her, surrounded by sand that stretched as far as she could see in every direction. Something at the top called to her, and she intended to answer. So she started walking.


    The land was a roiling mass of red dunes that baked under an unforgiving sun. The sand shifted easily underfoot and it was surprisingly heavy. Emilia found out quickly it was all too welcoming if she stood still for too long, threatening to bury her alive. She soldiered on,the heat and pull of the sand already sapping her strength. As she walked the sun only grew hotter and the sand beame only more inviting, trying to trap her with every step.


    Emilia was stubborn, and she knew it. She didn¡¯t know why she was, but from the very first day she could remember whatever she wanted, she needed. She never stopped once she had a direction to go. When she decided she wanted to be better than the boys her age at fighting, she grabbed a pair of practice axes and she swung them until her arms screamed and her palms bled. When Vikkar had tied her to a pole to stop her from hurting herself she¡¯d bitten through the ropes and when he used chains the next time she¡¯d put dents in them. And she didn¡¯t stop now even when the sand stole the shoes from her feet, even though they burned with every step. Stopping didn¡¯t even cross her mind.


    It began to storm, rain coming down in thick heavy sheets. The ground turned into a thick sludge that worked its way up to her knees. She had to fight through it at every step and the air was still just as hot. The mountain was obscured, but the call was still there pulling her in the right direction. Emilia had beaten every single boy her age one after the other and she would beat this too. Even when the heat caused the water around her to steam, making the air so humid she had to struggle just to breathe, she didn¡¯t stop. Her pride wouldn¡¯t let her.


    Emilia Brine was proud of who she was. When she was very young she was proud of who her parents were, Aeoren and Falin Brine the greatest pair of leaders the Flotilla had seen in centuries people said. She couldn¡¯t leave her house without seeing the statue of her father¡¯s likeness, and when she¡¯d picked up that pair of axes it had been his image she was chasing. When she¡¯d stolen and crashed her first windrunner she¡¯d wanted to follow in her mother¡¯s footsteps. And then they had disowned her. Sent her off with no warning when she was eight to live with her brother, her sister cradled in her arms. Never even told her why.


    So when the storm started to howl she clawed her way forward, as relentless as she had always been. The storm broke before she did. The clouds peeled away in a neat circle over head, the sun shining down on her gently now. The sand gave way to a field of grass, swaying like seaweed caught in fighting currents. Before her stood the mountain.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    It was far from what she had expected of it when viewed from a distance. It was a mountain of swords, piled to a height she could barely see. She walked around its base, giving herself a chance to catch her breath. There was no easy path up the mountain, as if some cruel hand had placed and positioned every single sword to be a challenge. Testing her finger against the edge also destroyed any faint hope that they would be dull. She sighed, watching as the single ruby drop ran along the edge of the sword in front of her.


    The climb started hard. The smooth surface of the blades made the notion of a decent grip laughable and the hilts were either missing entirely or hid beneath other blades. Every inch of her body was already complaining from the march to get here. Now they screamed as she gripped and pulled herself along the path of swords.


    The air grew colder as she forced herself up the sharp incline. Condensation left the blades even harder to grip and Emilia began collecting cuts along every inch of skin. Her own blood slicked the ravenous blades she crawled on. But she didn¡¯t stop. Every slip, every cut and every spasm of overworked muscle just became the next push forward.


    So Emilia Brine pushed forward even as her breath frosted the steel in front of her and her flesh stuck to the cold metal it touched. She couldn¡¯t give up, not now or ever. Her pride had never left but since her parents had cast her aside she had lost what she was most proud of. So she had thrown herself into everything she could with almost reckless abandon: memorizing starcharts, learning to sail, fishing, hunting, fighting and now a mountain full of swords. Her parents had been the best in centuries. So she would be the best there ever was. She could be proud of that. And a small voice hoped that her parents would be too.


    Emilia¡¯s world was reduced to the ache of her fingers on cold blades the sting of the cuts on her feet and the simple aching motion of pulling herself forward. So when she finally reached the top, the surprise of her reach catching empty air instead of the familiar steel almost caused her to fall. The final stretch was there and gone in a flash as she rolled onto the top of the mountain, blessedly free of sharp edges. She crawled forward, looking for what had called her here. She found it half buried under the swords, as if tossed away casually and forgotten. A simple hammer with a wooden handle and a head of cast iron. Emilia loved it.


    It was an old thing, worn down over many years of use, but it stood firm regardless with neither cracks nor dents to be seen. It had taken the worst of everything thrown at it, and it had held firm. However this was not why Emilia loved it. She loved it because she had earned it, because her efforts all this time had not gone unrewarded or unacknowledged. She loved it simply because it was hers.


    She swung her prize with the last of her strength and the mountain rang like a call to hymnal. As the sound faded a soft scraping took its place as a thousand swords rose into the air and flew. Entranced, Emilia watched them as they danced through the air like wingless birds. The largest settled before her, hovering just off the ground. An invitation that was hard to ignore. The young girl flung her tired frame across it and fell asleep as it soared into the air.


    She awoke in a land of heat, space warping chaotically as if everything were just a mirage. Which, she realized, it was. She looked at her feet and there was a brick, made of the same cast iron that her hammer had been. She set it into place and many more followed it. Then once her dome was completed she carved her name into the iron obelisk at the center. And the world of magic opened before her.

 Chapter 6: The Town in Flames (1)

    ¡°Woe to the Throne Breakers, those who dare impede our divine purpose! Our eye shall forever be upon you, your steps hounded until the end of all that is!¡±


    -Last words of Anorias, The First Nephileed


    Lupin O¡¯Hara was quite proud of his new students. It had been a rather spur of the moment decision to induct them, but he was prone to those. It was a habit a long time in the making, more a natural consequence of who he was than anything else. Taking these three as students was proving to be one of the better decisions he¡¯d made. It was very rare nowadays to find Sleepers who could awaken without help. The first journey to the Arcanum was dangerous. It was largely a product of the mind, a stepping stone for a Sleeping mind to comprehend what magic was and how it worked. But any rejection of what their mind was showing them would swiftly spiral into disaster. Most Sleepers that Lupin had encountered during their Awakening had been unable to reconcile the fact that everything about the world they knew was inherently false, with the equally important concept that it existed anyway.


    It got much easier to accept once you had seen the Arcanum for the first time, but even more experienced magi got hung up on the semantics of it. These three were having no such problems so far. They would still need to be carefully watched. A failed Awakening had far graver consequences than simply death. The Arcanum was only a sliver away from the Farside, the pure chaos that reality truly was, and dark things had dwelt in those waters long before the Tapestry was ever formed.


    So Lupin made himself busy while he kept a close watch on the trio. Dying had taken a sizeable toll on his ability to work the greater part of his magics. His control was returning but it would be awhile before he could safely perform any but the smallest magics. Lupin sighed as he thought back. The last thing he remembered before waking up in the swamp on this island was dying to Gorst, one of the dark things that dwelt on the Farside. He hadn¡¯t been alone in the fight and worry for his companions, Pallas Ranskin, Feidra Tolsky and Mary Lu Hopkins nagged at him. But there was nothing he could do for them now beyond a bit of prayer, and he was terribly out of practice at that. What he could do now was try and make life better where he was, and he¡¯d made a decent start of it in his own estimation.


    A commotion rose up outside, starting as a whisper before growing to a riot. Five ships were rapidly approaching the island traveling up the current. Their bows scything through the water as if the current had no sway over them. They were bulky things made almost entirely of metal that left a trail of thick black smoke behind them. Mantis were running everywhere, shouting in a panicked fashion. Or at least what Lupin concluded was a panicked fashion, their mannerisms were still far too alien to him.


    ¡°Singer.¡± A stern voice came from behind as Lupin continued to peer at the approaching ships from the shoreline. ¡°Battle comes quickly for us, I would recommend you flee before it finds you too.¡± This mantis stood almost a head taller than his peers and he bore a mark of rank, though whatever it stood for was lost of Lupin.


    Lupin needed barely a moment to consider, he had never run in his entire life. It was true that this was mostly due to a mixture of pride and stupidity, but he was still proud and he had never claimed to be a smart man. ¡°I will stand with you, my students are at the most important point of their training and cannot be moved. I¡¯ve also never been one to repay kindness with naught but a farewell, and I¡¯ve no intention to start now.¡± Though he feared he would not be of much use in his current state. His magic had always been wild even at the best of times, and if he lost control it would spell far worse than simple defeat for the inhabitants of Krassus.


    ¡°They will not find us an easy shell to crack Singer. You need not exert yourself on our behalf.¡± The Mantis said with easy confidence, ¡°But I will not turn away help offered in good faith.¡± It would have been more honest of him to say ¡®Help offered for free¡¯ but the distinction was of little consequence to Lupin.


    Lupin turned to look at the approaching ships. ¡°They do not try to hide their approach. That speaks of either confidence or madness and I believe both should be feared in their own way.¡± The Mantis had given the impression so far of a man used to giving orders, and giving advice to men like that was always a risk. Their pride could too often turn good intentions into slights. This Mantis merely considered, measuring the ships rapid approach in his eyes before nodding.


    ¡°I am grateful for your help Singer, and wish you luck.¡± Then he turned and began shouting orders up and down the unfinished pier of the town. Lupin had no idea what effect his words had on the man, if any. This worried him, even an Archmage could lose against a farmer if they were blinded by their pride and this fight was far more even footed.


    Their enemy did not tarry, their metal bulwarks crashing on the shore with a speed that was belied by their size. Men with the features of animals swarmed from their decks, their arms, legs or patches of skin replaced with that of unfamiliar beasts. The Mantis had not been idle at their approach, all but 9 had armed themselves with a pair of javelins, a short sword and a shield, embossed with a symbol of flames, that covered them from below their knees to above their mouths.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    The first men off the boats died under a hail of javelins, the ones following them met a similar fate. Their blood washed  the harsh unforgiving rocks of Krassus¡¯ shores and ran into the ocean foam just beyond staining it pink. But there were more behind them, seemingly undeterred by the deaths of those before them. Lupin could see the fear in their eyes, but it did not slow them. Odd for simple pirates.


    The nine Mantis who stood apart from the others began to move in unison, whispering to something they held cupped in their hands. Threads of fleshy green ran around their fingers, spilling through the gaps like water. The threads poured across the rocky ground the billowed up forming green canvas walls that funneled the pirates straight into the gaping maw of the Krassus soldiers.


    All signs were pointing to a one sided defensive slaughter despite the attacker¡¯s number advantage. Luping felt uneasy. Even mad men did not rush with this much fervor to so obvious a death. The harsh snap of a rope being cut, followed by the gentle whoosh of something heavy traveling through the air was the only warning before rocks the size of men carved a dire parabola through the air towards the tightly grouped men below.


    Looking upon the surprised, panic stricken stricken faces of the Mantis, Lupin felt his body begin to move before his mind could get a chance.  He looked into the Arcanum, upon his once beautiful tower of shimmering sapphire, still standing and stretching far above what he could perceive but now riddled with cracks and holes. Lupin drew deep from the magic that his tower allowed him, bending to commands made familiar from over a century of practice. A sigh of relief accompanied the feeling of his magic taking proper hold.


    Over Krassus a giant pale white bird took to the skies with a shriek.


    It batted the rocks from the air with beak and talon before releasing a triumphant crow. Lupin was preening with delight, the familiar rush of magic filling him from beak to tail feathers. He turned to look upon the soldiers. The situation had not gone quite as he had hoped. The pirates had never ceased their charge even as the rocks arced over their heads, and the Mantis had panicked turning what should have been a solid defensive wall into a chaotic, bloody melee. He began to dive, intent on aiding them A feeling of dread made him pull up short.


    He knew this feeling. He¡¯d felt it on the day of his Awakening when he had been shown the First War. The conflict that had broken Acaris, the world at the center of the universe, and created the Rift that caused living creatures to be unable to feel magic from their birth. Lupin spoke their name and was lost, ¡°Nephileed.¡± Lupin¡¯s mind drowned in the dark waters of a rage that was as old as time itself.


    The injuries to his tower were forgotten, his magic flowing freely with his will. The Nephileed sat in the crow¡¯s nest of the center most ship. It was a true Nephileed, a member of the original race rather than a convert to their doctrine. If Lupin was still lucid this would have sent tingles of fear down his spine. Even if he was not injured, this would be a foe he had no guarantee of beating. The creature rose from its imitation of a sitting position. To those unversed in their true nature Nephileed could be mistaken for shapeshifters. The truth was that they simply looked different to each and every person who laid eyes on them, because their true shapes were impossible to comprehend. Part of their physical being existed inside the Arcanum, stretching into a dimension that should not exist and that any sane mind would refuse to comprehend.


    It took flight in a twisted imitation of Lupin¡¯s own form and the two met in a storm of beak and talon. From their first exchange it was clear that Lupin was outmatched. A pair of bloody furrows were gouged from his shoulder to his thigh deep enough to expose the bone underneath. His opponent flew uninjured beyond the merest trace of a scratch on its taloned foot. Lupin drew on his magic one again, his Tower trembling with the exertion. The feathers of the great white bird began to shake, then took flight. In the air they transformed into thousands of birds of prey and harried the Nephileed in a furious storm.


    The Nephileed drove the winds in front of a great sweep of its wings. Space visibly twisted into a thousand scintillating lines of refracted light, tearing the birds apart in a shower of gore. Lupin slipped into the gap its defence created and rendered terrible wounds upon its form ripping viciously at the meat of its neck. The fiend threw Lupin of its form, and the flock of birds was once again upon even more numerous than before. It began to panic now, its fear a palpable scent the Lupin¡¯s nose. As it ripped the birds apart their feathers fell upon the corpses on the beach and the bloody spray of the sea, and where they fell new birds rose formed from flesh, sea and earth all the same, with singular purpose.


    The Nephileed howled and horrible cracks filled the sky around it. From them poured black sand that fell upon the birds surrounding it. The birds fell limp as soon as a single grain touched them, and shriveled instantly as if mummified. Lupin came from below this time, gripped the Nephileed¡¯s foot in his beak and whipped it into the sea below. The sand fell upon Lupin¡¯s back and great patches of his skin began to slough off causing him to howl in pain and fury. He tore into his enemy, pinned it in the ocean while pecking at its eyes, refusing to give it a single moment to recuperate. With another world shaking howl a thousand ephemeral hands formed around Lupin, lifting him from his prey as they began to throttle him.


    Lupin reached for his magic, an act that was sure to spell disaster far beyond any this single Nephileed could create. But the last shred of Lupin¡¯s sanity denied and bade himself to flee. Knowing that he could do no more. With a bitter taste in its mouth the beast that Lupin had become broke free of the hands that bound it and fled across the sea. The Nephileed gave chase, but the injuries its physical form had sustained were not light and it would not catch him easily.

 Chapter 6: The town in Flames (2)

    ¡°Anastor struck down his traitorous brother, baptizing the cities of the Dragons in flames even their scales could not ward. The fire rages even now, buried just beneath the surface. A horrid reminder of the No-God¡¯s betrayal.¡±


    ¡°Chronicles Vol.1¡±, Author unknown


    Vikkar woke from his vision with a start. The smell of smoke assaulted him, along with the sounds of shouting. His sisters were still in their chairs at the table, eyes closed and breathing steady. Vikkar picked them up, holding Havi in the crook of his arm while he slung Emilia over his shoulder. A glance out of the door showed a horrid reality. Demons from the Fanim were rampaging through the town, burning everything they couldn¡¯t break with their fists.


    The fighting was over, the soldiers were nowhere to be seen. The scent of blood was carried on a stiff sea breeze, giving some small hint as to where they could have gone, but the thick smoke hid any sight of the battlefield. A blessing in disguise as far as Vikkar was concerned.


    Lupin had disappeared as well, and with the sounds of pirates growing closer every second, Vikkar couldn¡¯t afford to wait for him. So he turned and fled. A shouting rose up behind him as the rocky earth crunched beneath his feet. ¡°Rot.¡± Vikkar cursed, trying his best to pick up speed.


    But the pirates were faster than him to begin with, doubly so with the burden of his sisters. He set them down and turned to face his pursuers as he slid his knife from its sheath with a reluctant hiss.


    There were three of them, not good odds. Even worse they were big brutes of corded muscle. The one on the left had shifty eyes, feathers instead of hair and a long curved knife in one hand. On the right was a dark man whose legs bent the wrong way and ended in solid hooves, a hammer of black iron resting on his shoulder. The middle was a smirking woman, the left side of her body covered in rough orange armor and her left hand was the claw of a ganst*. Vikkar¡¯s knife hand shook, there was little hope of steadying it, not with death staring him in the face.


    ¡°Come quietly Riddari, and we spare your life. There is no profit in your death, neither for you or for us.¡± The shifty eyed man spoke, inching his feet across the rocky ground.


    If he was by himself Vikkar would have surrendered without a doubt. This was a fight he couldn¡¯t win and he knew it. He was outnumbered, out of breath and had 4 inches of dull steel to defend himself with. But his sisters were asleep just inches behind him, and everyone had heard stories about pirates and what they did. So he tightened his grip on the knife and steeled himself as best he could.


    The one on the left drove at him with his blade, threatening to gut him from hip to rib. Vikkar dodged by a breath and was ready to drive back, sending his blade into somewhere near the man¡¯s neck, by the shadow of a hammer in the corner of his eye forced him back. Then the blade was coming again, this time for his throat. Vikkar stumbled back but stayed on his feet. Everything was growing heavy, the exhaustion of his sprint taking its toll even through his adrenaline high. The hammer swung low and uncaring for his exhaustion. He dodged back once again, but it still caught the meat of his thigh sending a spike of pain all the way up to his skull and knocking Vikkar prone.


    ¡°Shit.¡± Vikkar cursed through gritted teeth.


    ¡°Shoulda just taken it easy pal. Make it easier on us all. Rael pass the rope will ya.¡± The shifty eyed man stood above him, turning to look at their third companion who Vikkar had lost track of in the scuffle. ¡°Rael? OH what the hell is that?! Bron smash that thing before it bites anyone.¡± Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Why¡¯s it have to be me Kirk? I don¡¯t even like bugs.¡± The big man spoke, his voice just as lumbering as he was.


    ¡°All the more reason for it to be you then, sides you have a hammer, I have a knife. I can¡¯t smash it very well with a knife now can I?¡± Vikkar tried to reach for his own knife as the man spoke, but a boot pressed on his wrist was all he got for his trouble.


    A short girlish scream erupted, followed by the sound of a hammer hitting rock. ¡°Great, now it¡¯s bitten Rael and ran off with part of our pay. Good job you lug.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Kirk, I just thought-¡±


    ¡°And that was your mistake, just leave the thinking to me or Rael.¡± Kirk barked, ¡°Now pass me some rope.¡± Vikkar was panicking now. Something had run off with one of his sisters. He had to save her, there had to be some way.


    ¡°Wait! Wait. Your friends been bitten by something? Was it a big spider?¡± Vikkar spat out rapidly. If it was one of the spiders he had a bargaining chip. Their venom was deadly, but he knew ways of slowing its spread, ways that could help someone survive it.


    ¡°Yeah creepy thing. Why?¡± Kirk spoke, eyeing him warily.


    ¡°A bite from them will kill you in a day. If you save my sister, I can save your friend.¡± Vikkar met his gaze evenly, trying to slow his heartbeat as much as he could.


    ¡°And why should I believe a damn thing you say. You have plenty of reason to lie.¡± Kirk ran the flat of his blade along his palm as he spoke.


    ¡°The veins around her bite are turning black.¡± Kirk turned back to look, Vikkar saw his expression drop and knew that he had him.


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll save your sister.¡± Kirk stepped off Vikkar¡¯s hand. As Vikkar got to his feet he saw Emilia¡¯s sleeping form being held up by her hair with Kirk¡¯s wicked knife at her throat. ¡°I¡¯ll save this one. Get to work or I make her smile from her throat.¡±


    That was almost too much for poor Vikkar. His teeth ground together in a vain attempt to keep his tears from spilling while his hands curled into fists in a mix of hopelessness and futile anger. He walked across the rocky ground with leaden feet, to kneel beside Rael. He hated this woman, even more in some ways than Kirk. Not only had she lost him a sister while trying to capture him, he had to save her for it.


    One wiry arm laid bare on the ground before him, two red dots stood on her pale skin, like a child¡¯s drawing of evil eyes. Around them was a web of black veins, spreading at visible speed. He¡¯d never seen this spider bite in person, but the Riddari kept extensive records of almost every island they¡¯d ever visited. This bite had been catalogued in Kadi¡¯s adventures from more than a decade ago. Rael¡¯s skin around the bite felt much like the pages of that old book, dry and flaky to the touch.


    The venom hadn¡¯t spread past her arm yet, if her veins could be trusted. At this point all the methods Vikkar knew would end with amputation, and preferably soon. Except that wasn¡¯t true, was it.


    The knowledge came to him like the shadow of a memory. Vikkar reached out, his vision splitting between the mundane world around him and the Arcanum. He saw Rael, saw the weaving of her thread in the Tapestry. She had not lived a good life, but the world had never been kind to her. The venom, to her, amounted to a final kick from a world that had never truly wanted her. Vikkar saw how she resented it, and found he couldn¡¯t hate her. It would be so much easier if he could. Coiling around her, like oil on water, was the venom.


    He reached into her, and he felt her body with even more clarity than if it was his own. Every inch laid bare. The venom pushed through her veins,turning her blood into a black sludge. Vikkar called to it and it came like an obedient child, flowing out from the two small wounds on Rael¡¯s arm bringing a stream of corrupted blood with it. The lot crashed against the dry earth and was lost swallowed by the greedy earth.


    ¡°What the hell was that?¡± Kirk cried from somewhere that sounded awfully far away to Vikkar.


    ¡°Magic.¡± Vikkar spoke as his waist bowed and his consciousness fled, blessing him with at least a few moments of peace.


    *A ganst is a creature lying somewhere in between a bird and a fish. Its body is covered in a hollow orange chitin that covers it¡¯s soft downy feathers. It lives on the shores of the Fanim lands near pockets of coral in which it nests