《Mirrors - Powers old & new》


 Prologue - Ricard (1)

    The slow steady beat came back to him as he recalled playing as a youth, struggling as he always did, not to race away with the music. Similarly, the steady crunching underfoot of deadfall branches, marked the movement of the demon lord. A demon that he was sure was marching ever closer to his hiding place suddenly stopped.


    In its absence the silence stretched so loud, he could hear his heart racing away, beating rapidly at the prospect of being found. Even hiding deep down as he was, even though it was as dark as the bottom of a well-used tinkers un-cleaned frying pan. Fearing the unknown he suddenly wondered if the pursuing demon lord¡¯s hearing, or olfactory ability was such that he would easily be found.


    Would I be sniffed out, he thought, or would the rushing of my blood through the intricacies of my body be heard? He knew that nobody knew, as any person who came across a demon lord on their own never lived to tell. Never alive to say what gave them away, was it sight, sound or smell he didn¡¯t know.


    Gradually moving ever so carefully and pulling his cloak closer, wrapping himself tight like a caterpillar. A caterpillar spinning a cocoon protecting itself from predator. Like me, protected down here, he thought, as he gingerly hunkered into the spear thorn thicket.


    Praying to the Power that the decaying smell of its blossoms would cover his own fear tinged sweat. He prayed that the droplets of water from the heavy mist, sliding as they were off the finger long thorns. Dropping onto the stony ground would mask the sound of his own heart beat from the demon.


    That the water would cover the smell of his own fear. Ricard felt a chill as an oppressive cloud of darkness rolled from the demon, obscuring even the starlight which normally reached the ground, even as far beneath the spear thorns, its light was now non-existent.


    All the while the smell of its breath both smoky and acrid, was over powering Ricards own senses, causing the taste of bile to rush into his mouth. If only I could find my weapons, he thought, I would have a chance, no matter how slim, but I know not where they have gone. Puzzled as he never let them out of his sight he couldn¡¯t remember where he last used them but he couldn¡¯t worry about that now.


    Everything was silent as he held his breath, he could hear his heart loudly in his ears yet even straining he could not hear the demon. Perhaps it had gone, given up he hoped and prayed, or it had gone back to the hells it had come from.


    He wondered about relaxing ever so slightly until the sound of thorns scratching against armour broke the silence. He was sure it was the demon pushing into the thicket causing his heart to beat faster, felt his muscles tense and twitch ready to react.


    A wave of panic rushed through his blood as he began struggling to free himself of his cloak so he could slip deeper into the gloom then as sudden as it started the sound of the screeching thorns stopped. Unable to see he sensed a pressure over his head his mind pictured the clawed hand about to snatch him from his hiding place.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    When a snapping crash which his highly strung mind realised was falling books in somebody¡¯s room woke Ricard with a start.


    Groaning he gingerly tried raising himself from his pallet where almost three bells previously he¡¯d crashed out after a night spent celebrating his passing out of his course. Struggling to free himself, for his blanket was wrapped tightly around his body, while his pillow partially covered his head, the smell of strong drink, tobac smoke and something remarkably like sick assaulted his nose.


    Cracking one eye he blinked a couple of times before he noticed his garments strewn in a haphazard line from the door, around a small centre table toward the garderobe, to his pallet. It felt as though every muscle was on fire as every movement caused them to burn as though he''d been exercising, he was certain that his bones were now split bamboo canes such was the pain he was feeling.


    That twisting splintering sound bamboo makes as it fails under a load reverberated in his ears as he struggled free of the blanket and considered making his way to the edge of his pallet.


    Relieved it was only a nightmare, yet knew that while asleep a demon lord''s magic had ripped out and replaced his stomach with a bubbling cauldron, leaving his old stomach on the floor at the side of his pallet.


    The cauldron was bubbling merrily causing the poor fitting lid to rattle, the contents lipping at the edges ready to escape. Suddenly the contents rose coating the back of his mouth again before he mentally removed the lid forcing the cauldron contents to settle; yet the taste lingered in the back of his mouth.


    With the feelings of bubbling sickness and split bamboo sounds in his ears he also had the mare of all headaches, threatening to put him back into his pallet as each beat of his heart pounded like a hammer hitting a nail into the back of his eyes, flashing light spread from the point of the nails each time his heartbeat.


    A harsh light was creeping around the shutters casting the room in a weak sepia wash; thankfully they were closed earlier by the cleaning staff while he¡¯d been out celebrating; any brightness would have made the headache far worse, even the sepia wash was bright as he opened his other eye.


    Finally untangling himself and tossing the blanket and sheet aside he shuffled down the pallet so he didn¡¯t stand in the sick. Groaning as he struggled to stand, then through the slits of his eyes he stumbled into motion aiming for the garderobe.


    Feeling as though something was wrong as he took a few tentative steps he looked down at his feet, he realised even though he slept in the nude he still had on one of his boots, with his small clothes hanging limp caught on the pulling lug at the top. Grimacing he struggled across the room with an uneven walk toward the garderobe, eventually leaning against its closed door; where taking care in moving his head he managed to remove the offending boot and small clothes, where his sock was he didn¡¯t know.


    Reaching up he took his woollen robe off the rusted coat hook catching the back of his little finger for the hook was fastened by three screws and a nail to the front of the garderobe door and in wasn''t the first time he''d caught his hand; tentatively wrapping it around himself he sucked on his little finger. Here he was at seventeen, in record time, being the top of his cohort he had completed his training as a War Magji, graduating from Kepzohely, the academy for all Magji.


    Larger than most men topping out at nineteen hands, his formidable frame was broad shouldered and covered with sculpted muscle, shaped over the annis of training yet he moved with the grace of a lithe dancer. His prowess with all types of weapons along with the use of tactics was the talk of the fighter¡¯s school, while his skill with any sword was akin to dancing as he moved with a balance of grace and strength.

 (ii)

    He was unquestionably the most gifted student or guide in all the arts of being a War Magji. Whilst his ability with all types of war magic was extraordinary he was like other War Magji weaker in using the healing gift; he could stem a shallow wound sealing the skin but any greater wounds or smaller broken bones those apparently could not be mastered by any war Magji.


    Since the founding of Kepzohely at the beginning of the demon wars many Magji had passed through its halls. By the end of his first anni in Kepzohely, Ricard exhibited nascent power and adaptable skill beyond any previous student, gaining the body tattoos of distinction with each skill he mastered.


    Outclassing the strongest and ablest warrior guide and all the talented Magji instructors Ricard normally shone, that was apart from this rising as he struggled with his hangover.


    Across from the dorms where Ricard struggled with the garderobe door was the academy administration area; as always working in his study since early bells was Arch-Magji Jastin. The academy leader was hard at work after collecting some scrolls from a basket left for this purpose just inside his room near the door.


    Jastin walked to his imposing walnut desk, its warm hues giving a falseness of heat to a normally chilly room this early. In his early fifties Jastin was not the typical academic, his trim wiry frame, lean with well exercised muscle marked him out as a fighter rather than a plump out of condition pen pusher.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    With thinning grey hair that was neatly clipped alongside surprisingly thick greying sideburns they combined in framing Jastin¡¯s weathered and serious face. As he sat he began skimming yet another message scroll while his mind drifted to Ricard¡¯s beginnings. He realised within the first few circuits of Ricard¡¯s attendance here was an exceptional student as his tattoo marking testified.


    Irrespective and despite his young age he displayed extraordinary and powerful gifts, far and above anyone else. Some people would have been arrogant with such gifts whereas Ricard was generous in spirit, humble and sagacious beyond his annis.


    Ricard¡¯s relationship with the Magji Power was evident to all, his growing abilities and maturity continued circuit by circuit marking him out as special, a leader of men, and a stalwart hero in the making. Jastin considered the deteriorating situation in all the lands, looking up from the messenger delivered report received late last night.


    He wondered how long it would be before Ricard¡¯s generosity would last given the rising demonic problems. Jastin knew more about the true state of affairs in all the surrounding lands than most of the respective heads of those individual kingdom states. He knew it wouldn¡¯t be long before Ricard¡¯s abilities would be placed under the scrutiny of real battle, not merely training at Kepzohely.


    Meetings he both led and attended gave him the knowledge things were getting worse, especially in the less populated outer kingdoms where attacks were becoming more frequent with whole settlements disappearing. How he wished to return to the woods, where he longed to wander the land seeking solitude and communion with the Power.


    He knew though that the Power wasn¡¯t content for those it gifted as Magji to sit idly by while mankind was shuddering to a cataclysmic disaster, greater than those that ended the first two ages of man.

 (iii)

    </a>(iii)


    Ricard¡¯s mind drifted, his thoughts were as though they were wrapped in wool. He tried recalling the group he had to train in a few bells time. Letting his head rest against the edge of the bath he relaxed and slid just a bit deeper with the water reaching the underside of his chin. He realised that going out to celebrate had been a poor idea, especially after the final test where he¡¯d faced all twelve Magji guides, masters in their specialism at the same time, winning all challenges in less than two chimes.


    Nobody had ever beaten all of the Magji guide masters. The previous record had been nine Magji guide masters defeated, this was held by Jastin, he¡¯d been defeated by the then head fire Magji master. Jastin¡¯s test lasted four chimes before he was finally defeated. Thankfully most of the Magji protected the guides from any serious harm during the bout.


    Delic¡¯tag the young athletic water guide was not so lucky. He would be using crutches for a couple of risings even after being healed; Ricard opened the ground beneath him then rather forcibly snapped it shut around his legs. If he wasn¡¯t shielded Delic¡¯tag would have lost more than his legs; his life. While Ro¡¯toms the white bearded elderly air Magji would need a guide until his sight returned, as the light blast Ricard used not only slammed him into a wall but temporally blinded him. He refused healing saying,


    ¡°It was my own foolishness, it will remind me to never underestimate my opposition in such a way.¡± Remembering the celebration he wondered how he could have refused his friends their chance to salute his prowess?


    It was only now did he wish he¡¯d listened to the Power in curbing his own celebrating, as his body was rebelling at being forced into action after so little rest. Bundling his clothes from his celebrations he stepped out of his room making his way downstairs to the outside door. Automatically he set his feet onto the path and headed for the male bathing pools, situated around the rear and under the student block.


    A long soak in one of the thermal pools would be just the thing, he thought as he walked. The cauldron broke into his thoughts as he walked, occasionally reminding him of future problems he would assuredly face in the confines of the garderobe. He prayed to the Power they would wait, as he visually kept a firm hand on the cauldron.


    Walking through the open doorway he then dropped his bundled clothing into one of the empty washing baskets. Reaching for a woollen robe which was hung with others lined around the changing room walls. Slinging the robe over the bench he stood naked then stretched before scratching the back of his head. Scratching complete he walked to the nearest pool, going down the few steps along its side, slipping gently into the mineral rich waters letting them lap up to his chin.


    A contented sigh escaped his lips as the waters began their wondrous healing, he willed his self-abused body to relax and heal. He looked down at his chest and biceps, inspecting the final linking tattoos which marked his mastery and completion of all his testing. Letting out an audible sigh he settled back against the edge of the pool. Closing his eyes, he was more than pleased for the cauldron had stopped its complaining allowing his mind to drift back a few short circuits.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Already late for a session at one of the practice rings, he was moving quicker than was prudent, practically running along under the covered walkway which led to the ring. Not only was he running but he was also carrying a tumbler of water he¡¯d drawn from the source earlier that rising. Thinking about the session which he was assuredly late for and not looking where he was going he literally ran into a woman, causing them both to tumble to the floor. Smiling in the pool he remembered how instinctively as he fell he positioned himself underneath her so she didn¡¯t land under him.


    Gently lifting her up and across him to the side he flipped back to his feet, then bent down offering his hand. A smile was plastered on his face as he helped the poor unfortunate woman back up then watched while she struggled to collect her books from the floor. The tumbler of water which on the initial collision had shot several spans into the air chose at that point to upend emptying its contents over his head.


    His head now dripping he shot out a hand as he caught the descending tumbler then with his empty hand picked up the last book from the floor. Looking up he glanced at her body checking she was not visibly harmed, though as he looked at her face her azure eyes drew him in.


    Shaking his head, it was like time had stopped, he saw the expanse of the sky without a cloud in sight, captivating him for an eternity. Hundreds of water droplets from his head were caught mid fall reflecting her face, over and over again as he was held unable to move. It was definitely her eyes, he thought, that took all of his words out of his head as this exceptional beauty looked back at him.


    She returned his gaze looking deep into his eyes, a smile pulled at their corners, at what he hoped she glimpsed there. Time rushed back, the droplets of water splattered on the paving stones while her smile lit her face fully as though the sun had risen within her. He could hear words as he watched her lips move but couldn¡¯t think of anything to say while he stood there mouth agape. Water running down his back reaching under the waist band of his trews didn¡¯t even register.


    The sudden banging of a door somewhere in the bathing area awoke Ricard with a jerk, pulled from his dreamy relaxation. Standing quickly, his Magji gift automatically gathering ready, to react either offensively or defensively to any threat as water and suds ran down his well-honed body. He walked out of the pool in a far better condition than before.


    He made for the pile of soft towels his mind raced as he tried recalling Za''fira, that was her name he later found out. Yet the memory of his first bumbling meeting evaded his pursuit. The thoughts drifted away while he snagged the largest towel and completed his drying, before dressing using a set of the common student clothes. Shaking his shoulder length hair so it would dry naturally he returned via the kitchen to his room.


    Shuddering at the mess he quickly tidied the last night¡¯s evidence away before eating the large snack he¡¯d pilfered. Throwing on a clean set of his own clothes before hunting for and finding his missing boot, which to his surprise held an empty Wy¡¯ske bottle. Hidden on the top of his armoire.


    Placing the empty bottle on his pilfered snack tray for the cleaner to tidy away, he made for the office of Jastin to receive his orders. Humming as he walked under the covered way which connected the student block and the academy offices; his thoughts once more centred on Za¡¯fira. Wishing that they could have had more than the scant few circuits they¡¯d spent together before their going to face an uncertain future fighting in the demon war.

 Zafira

    <h2> </h2>


    As a healer Za''fira often spent her spare time wandering the grounds and the wood which surrounded Kepzohely. Having risen before the sun broke the horizon and while the moons were still visible she wanted to centre herself before the meeting with Ricard in Jastin¡¯s office. Woken by a vision almost a bell earlier the intensity of it still worried her. She often had small seeings as the Power guided her Magji gift which helped when healing the injured, this was her second vivid night-time vision, one which revealed more to her than she wished to know.


    Za''fira tided herself, she wanted to look her best for her first meeting with the handsome youth, her vision from the night replayed causing Za''fira to sit until it ran its course. Her meeting with Ricard, them falling in love. Their quick romance and eventual joining of their lives by an old man, in what looked like a library. The vision leapt forwards to a series of bloody battles and finally the birth of their daughters; that vision was over eight annis ago when she had her first moon blood.


    Part of that vision where she met the youth happened when Ricard ran into her nearly three circuits ago; their joining would be in four bells time. She longed for the night as they would be able to explore each other¡¯s bodies as they joined intimately as one as he took her maidenhead.


    The misty visions of battles to come worried her down to her soul, yet the blessing of having daughters balanced the death and destruction and the loss of family and friends. Sitting on a bench in one of the arbours out of the way of the gentle breeze Za''fira opened the breakfast serviette and steadily ate the contents; sharing small bits with the few birds which appeared within a chime of her sitting down.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    A vocal, small, yet mature bushy green male Q¡¯rell leapt from a nearby branch onto the back of the bench, literally demanding as it paraded across the back of the bench some of the offered food. Smiling Za''fira pulled at the soft white centre of the cob thinking to herself as she placed it halfway between the Q¡¯rell and herself, ¡®if you want it so much you¡¯ll have to come get it.¡¯


    No sooner had Za''fira let go of the bread than the Q¡¯rell still chattering hopped onto the seat and began stuffing the bread as fast as it could into its mouth muting its demands. Za''fira¡¯s sight waivered as a seeing imposed itself over the Q¡¯rell and surrounding arbour, suddenly snapping into clarity replacing both vision and sound.


    The vision showed the planned meeting with Jastin and her joining to Ricard then it leapt forward to a slightly older Jastin leading the guides, students and anyone who could wield a weapon out of Kepzohely to face a large group of demons. Za''fira was sure from the position of the sun and from the state of foliage it was sometime after harvest around ev¡¯n bells. To say it didn¡¯t end well was an understatement as a bell after the first clash of Magji spells and weapons everybody was either dead or routed, the buildings were all ablaze and demons were seen feasting upon the slain defenders.

 (iv)

    The focal view changed and Za''fira saw a still alive Jastin who was held off the ground between two of the largest demons Za''fira had ever seen. A third demon slightly taller than a man stood to the front of Jastin and tenderly like a lover held his jaw in one of his over large hands, turning his head one way then the other. The demon removed from around his neck and placed what looked like a blue crystal on the end of a chain against if Jastin¡¯s forehead before releasing it to float just above Jastin¡¯s eyes.


    At a wave of the demon¡¯s hand the crystal began glowing then it started moving around Jastin¡¯s skull. As the crystal began moving a scream erupted from Jastin gaining in intensity, as the now brightly glowing crystal made its progression around his head returning back to its starting point. Unable to move his head he was fighting hard against the restraints of the two demons. With a bust of Magji power he strengthened his muscles and managed to get one arm free, then all his movement suddenly ended.


    Jastin¡¯s strengthened arm flopped down hanging lose at his side; his eyes were wide open as he watched the demon¡¯s hand grab the top of his head. With a sickening plop the demon lifted clear the top part of his skull, revealing the quivering grey brain beneath. Catching her breath as the Q¡¯rell came back into sight Za''fira prayed about what she had seen and what it meant for them all, asking the Power to give her understanding.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Two bells later after communing with the Power, a smiling Za''fira moved back to the buildings, heading towards Jastin¡¯s office and her meeting with Ricard. Noise erupted behind her as the contents of the now forgotten breakfast serviette were the scene of open conflict as birds and the mouthy Q''rell fought over the remains of food.


    The noise faded in Za''fira¡¯s hearing as she reached the main pathway. The animals continued their squabble until a ratter drawn by the clamour caught and killed the unsuspecting Q¡¯rell. Three quick gulps and there was no trace of the Q¡¯rell, then the ratter finished off everything, leaving the blood splattered serviette to flutter to the ground as it padded away.


    As Za''fira entered the main door a flash of a vision made her step outside and place herself flat against the wall. It was as though the dam had broken, as a mad rush of students flowed down the main staircase before they exited the building. Like boiling water escaping a lidded pan, they escaped the building in an effervescing manner.


    They rushed to see two of the masters face off in the arena in some duel over a woman Magji student, fighting over which school she should major in, her name she gathered listening to the students as they rushed by was Bridgette. Za''fira knew she would have been knocked over, trampled and had her wrist broken if the vision hadn¡¯t given her a warning.

 (ii)

    He was unquestionably the most gifted student or guide in all the arts of being a War Magji. Whilst his ability with all types of war magic was extraordinary he was like other War Magji weaker in using the healing gift; he could stem a shallow wound sealing the skin but any greater wounds or smaller broken bones those apparently could not be mastered by any war Magji.


    Since the founding of Kepzohely at the beginning of the demon wars many Magji had passed through its halls. By the end of his first anni in Kepzohely, Ricard exhibited nascent power and adaptable skill beyond any previous student, gaining the body tattoos of distinction with each skill he mastered.


    Outclassing the strongest and ablest warrior guide and all the talented Magji instructors Ricard normally shone, that was apart from this rising as he struggled with his hangover.


    Across from the dorms where Ricard struggled with the garderobe door was the academy administration area; as always working in his study since early bells was Arch-Magji Jastin. The academy leader was hard at work after collecting some scrolls from a basket left for this purpose just inside his room near the door.


    Jastin walked to his imposing walnut desk, its warm hues giving a falseness of heat to a normally chilly room this early. In his early fifties Jastin was not the typical academic, his trim wiry frame, lean with well exercised muscle marked him out as a fighter rather than a plump out of condition pen pusher.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    With thinning grey hair that was neatly clipped alongside surprisingly thick greying sideburns they combined in framing Jastin¡¯s weathered and serious face. As he sat he began skimming yet another message scroll while his mind drifted to Ricard¡¯s beginnings. He realised within the first few circuits of Ricard¡¯s attendance here was an exceptional student as his tattoo marking testified.


    Irrespective and despite his young age he displayed extraordinary and powerful gifts, far and above anyone else. Some people would have been arrogant with such gifts whereas Ricard was generous in spirit, humble and sagacious beyond his annis.


    Ricard¡¯s relationship with the Magji Power was evident to all, his growing abilities and maturity continued circuit by circuit marking him out as special, a leader of men, and a stalwart hero in the making. Jastin considered the deteriorating situation in all the lands, looking up from the messenger delivered report received late last night.


    He wondered how long it would be before Ricard¡¯s generosity would last given the rising demonic problems.  Jastin knew more about the true state of affairs in all the surrounding lands than most of the respective heads of those individual kingdom states. He knew it wouldn¡¯t be long before Ricard¡¯s abilities would be placed under the scrutiny of real battle, not merely training at Kepzohely.


    Meetings he both led and attended gave him the knowledge things were getting worse, especially in the less populated outer kingdoms where attacks were becoming more frequent with whole settlements disappearing. How he wished to return to the woods, where he longed to wander the land seeking solitude and communion with the Power.


    He knew though that the Power wasn¡¯t content for those it gifted as Magji to sit idly by while mankind was shuddering to a cataclysmic disaster, greater than those that ended the first two ages of man.

 (v)

    As she waited for the students to exit a memory came to mind for Za''fira knew that having visions helped when she had to defend herself. She had become almost perfect in her study of a hand only defence called KaMag. KaMag encourages students to avoid confrontation where possible, if this is impossible it promotes finishing a fight as quickly and as brutally as possible. Attacks are aimed at the most vulnerable parts of the body, which as a healer Za''fira knew exceptionally well.


    Although healers were unable to kill as it impacted their balance, the training of KaMag for healers was not limited to techniques that avoided severe injury. Bells and bells of endless drills provide maximum safety to students. Wrapped and sheltered by the use of protective equipment and the use of increased reasonable force as a student¡¯s skills developed.


    All the training of KaMag was for one purpose she remembered from her trainer to avoid conflict if possible but not be frightened of punishing those who want to harm you. She recalled her final test where she had to fight three sets of three attackers.


    Her first group were some of the female tutors of KaMag, they attacked in a triangle formation. Quickly Za''fira raised her hands and took a calming breath, she knew they would not back away so she had to end this quickly. Unable to line them all Za''fira used her Magji gift to send a sharp gust of wind across the arena temporally obscuring everybody in a dust storm. As the dust rushed past her she charged into the first tutor. Hitting the tutors raised hands away she kneed her twice in quick succession between the legs, then hammered her on the nerve cluster at the top of her right leg.


    The tutor already in agony from the double kneeing fell to the ground as her right leg crumpled, as it stopped responding to instructions. As she collapsed to the floor Za''fira followed her down, using an open hand rather than the hammer she hit the tutor¡¯s temple. Rising swiftly Za''fira watched the light leave the tutors eyes. In less than three heart beats Za''fira had taken out one tutor and she now looked for any disturbance in the dust cloud for the other two.


    Hearing coughing from her right Za''fira looked for the other tutor, it was only her intuition that saved her from being hit. She sinuously swayed her head to the left watching as a foot swirled past the space her head had just occupied, stirring the dust cloud. Za''fira continued her movement as she pivoted on her left foot, her body leaning horizontally to the ground. Her body pivoted on her planted foot, with her spinning momentum she raised her right leg, catching the second tutor neatly in the side of her trunk. The move was made easier as the tutor had over reached from the missed strike.


    The impact threw the tutor off her feet into the path of the final tutor who had to leap aside or collide with her falling colleague. Grasping the initiative Za''fira leapt onto the fallen tutor just as she was turning to rise, stomping one foot squarely into her back, slamming the tutor back down into the dirt, while her other foot ground hard onto the woman¡¯s behind. Stunned the tutor groaned then became still as the dust settled around her, defeated. Za''fira stepped off the stunned tutor in preparation to attack the now visible last tutor.


    Snarling in anger the tutor seemed to forget her form as she took several quick strides then leapt feet first at her. Za''fira moved with confidence as the woman began her run, she stepped backwards away from the stunned tutor, bracing her knees firmly. When the tutor¡¯s feet left the ground Za''fira crouched low. With the tutor¡¯s jump reaching its apex Za''fira pushed up with her legs, her open hands grabbed the woman¡¯s hips.


    Making an improvised pivot point, the tutor changed directions as she was hurled forcefully backward then down to the ground, smashing head first into the now rising tutor. Their heads came together with a resounding crash, like eggs breaking, as they tumbled into a combined heap. The second tutor having being rendered unconscious lay at Za''fira¡¯s feet, the final tutor groaned. The noise triggered a swiftly delivered and vicious hammer blow to the base of her neck.


    Za''fira was victorious as the tutor¡¯s awareness was snuffed out. Healer Magji rushed on to the arena as Za''fira exited for a half bell rest before the next bout. As she entered the arena Za''fira thought, half a bell is not enough time to get my composure back. Her next bout was against three more experienced male tutors, they approached her in a pair about two strides apart the other single tutor was around fifteen strides behind them. Although they had not watched the last bout Za''fira knew they would likely not fall for the dust trick.


    Za''fira had sparred with the tutor at the back on previous occasions, she knew it would be a hard contest especially against him as he would hold nothing back. She decided to wait for them to make the first move as she moved steadily rearward toward the wall of the arena. Gauging her gait, she used her right foot to draw a meandering line in the arena floor; she hoped the men didn¡¯t understand what she was doing. She knew the line would come into its own when the men who looked to be the only brothers currently at Kepzohely, one having dark hair while the other had sandy brown. She faced them as they stood on opposite side of the line she had drawn.


    As she moved Za''fira felt the presence of the wall grow closer and she began to move around to her right, still drawing with her foot. Creating what she hoped was a meandering trap. A vision flashed across her mind in less than a heartbeat. In response she quickly tucked herself into a ball then rolled to her left. As she rolled near the line she stretched out and placed her right hand upon it. This took place almost at the same time like simultaneous heart beats after the two Magji who were brothers rushed to attack her.


    The dark haired one who had moved more toward the arena wall began his attack by running up part of its surface to launch a diving attack on her. While the sandy haired brother skip stepped then moved in for a follow through chest kick. If I¡¯d have been caught between them it would have all been over, she thought, as her hand hit the line and she willed it into life. Energy responded with her thoughts as it flowed through the line, it rose up into the air snatching the dark haired brother as he¡¯d taken three strides on the arena wall.


    Pinning him immobile, stuck like a fly to a spider¡¯s web. Continuing her roll Za''fira came to her feet and hammered the sandy haired brother as he recovered from his missed attack and follow through. Her fists simultaneously hit two points, one the left side of his neck with her right hand, while the main hammer of her left hand hit him twice in succession above his right kidney. As he began roll with, then to sway away from the punches, Za''fira stamped on his left ankle to pin him in place, but she heard the grinding then splintering of his ankle.


    She watched as he raised his hands in surrender, as he fell to his knees a huge smile on his now pale pain stricken face. Za''fira looked into his eyes and noticed movement behind her, reaching beyond the man¡¯s raised hands she clamped his shoulders and used him as a fulcrum as she launched her body over his head. In the air Za''fira tucked and spun on her length putting the arena wall to her back. The other man missed his attack, yet his momentum allowed him to spin around the sandy haired brother. They faced off with opposite sides against the arena wall.


    The man moved first, throwing a hammer at Za''fira¡¯s left side hoping to knock her against the wall. Strengthening her muscles Za''fira took the hit grunting under its impact. As he threw a repeat hammer she bent her knees slightly, then as the punch landed she clamped down on his arm on her left side pinning it up and under her arm pit. Raising on her toes to look him in the eyes she aimed what he¡¯d think was an open hand attack at the pinned elbow.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Even though he was held he turned his body to intercept the hand strike, his left arm was nearly in position as he blinked. He missed the hands path as it changed course and smashed into his forehead just as his eyes were opening. Still keeping his arm pinned Za''fira quickly changed the open hand into a hold. She jammed her index and middle finger of her right hand up his nose then lifted him onto his toes.


    As he was forced onto his toes Za''fira kneed him in between his legs causing a painful wheeze to escape, then she hammered his nerve centre at the solar ¨Cplexus; this was followed by a huge exhale of breath from his body. The man went instantly limp and would have fallen to the floor but was held up by his nose and pinned arm. I¡¯ve done it, only one more bout and I¡¯ll be rated as a master KaMag fighter, an excellent position for a healer, Za''fira thought.


    As before the healers can into the arena and helped the defeated trio while Za''fira made her way to the baths, first to wash her fingers then take a quick soak in the bell she had before the final bout. Untying her pinned up hair after her soak, releasing her long braid before as she¡¯d finished her drying Za''fira donned a clean and fresh fighting robe. Relaxed she moved out of the room just as the two-chime bell sounded so she made for the arena to face the final three.


    This was the hardest of the tests as she knew these were experienced battle tested Magji warriors. These three would be attacking using any combination of staffs, swords, whips along with their Magji gifts, beating any one would be an achievement, she thought. She entered the arena and noticed the three were well separated, the one who held a whip was a woman who had a huge grin on her face.


    The man had a vindictive look on his face held a half-staff one end planted in the arena floor, while the other woman''s hands looked empty; just like her face was void of any emotion. Perhaps they need the room to use their gifts, she thought as the start bell sounded. The grinning woman with the whip rushed toward Za''fira, her whip trailing across the ground in her wake. Around fifteen strides from her the woman flicked her right arm forward bringing the length of the whip into play.


    Having fought a whip user before Za''fira knelt and placed her left hand on the ground, a column of earth thirty hands tall erupted from the ground intercepting the path of the whip.


    Any normal whip would have been stopped by the pillar, yet this whip Za''fira detected was an elemental fire whip, as it punched a fist sized hole through the column where her head would have been. Still knelt, Za''fira heard the voice and reacted instantly as she turned the earthen column into water geyser. Much of the geyser was turned to steam as it doused the full length of the whip when it collapsed. Za''fira thought the woman was cursing her as she spoke in the courier language saying, ¡°tricher, faire face ¨¤ ces si vous le pouvez.¡± Dropping the distance weapon, the woman pulled two small batons from her sash as she closed the distance while Za''fira stood and made ready to react to her short range attack.


    It was then Za''fira understood this woman was one of the expert couriers, they often worked alone or as part of a two-person team delivering urgent news. She heard the Power speak to her and she quickly made an oblong curving shield for each forearm. Stepping into the attack Za''fira surprised the woman as she caught the aimed flurry of blows on the Magji shields. Returning each hit of a baton for a hammer or open hand strike, the attacker was soon distracted.


    Distracted to the point that she failed to notice Za''fira as she leant just a little backwards. She lifted her right foot nearly vertically threading it between the baton strikes, while still returning as good as she was receiving. Her foot caught the woman squarely under her chin, the force of the impact lifted her a good stride off the ground. She followed through with a double hammer strike to the descending woman¡¯s solar plexus. For good measure she smashed her shielded right forearm into the woman¡¯s face.


    That will take the grin off your face, Za''fira thought as she took a check of the other two¡¯s positions. Za''fira left the unconscious woman as an obstacle to the woman whose hands were still empty, and moved toward the staff wielder. Cross your arms, roll to your right, came the voice from the Power in her head. Za''fira moved as instructed her arms were crossed before she started to roll. Her instinct made her increase the size of the shields by a factor of two before the first pulse hit. Her shields deflected a near unremitting barrage of energy pulses sent from the staff.


    She rolled in a haphazard fashion around the arena floor until the staff suddenly depleted its charge, keeping her shields between her and the head of the staff was part of her plan. A constant series of small grit and compacted earth explosions cascaded from the arena floor, thrown up by the impact of missed and reflected strikes. Za''fira rolled around evading a debilitating hit, the combined detritus was caught in her short-lived movement.


    What the staff wielder did not notice was her haphazard rolls were anything but as she was rapidly drawing closer. Za''fira had closed the distance to nearly a third by the time the staff had expended its stored energy. Throwing out the staff with his right arm it snapped open another quarter length becoming a full staff. Spinning it in a close defence figure of eight pattern he took a measured stride toward Za''fira. He paused in his stride as Za''fira had disappeared, the dust was still moving in a curved line yet there was no sign of the woman.


    Standing still he kept moving the staff while he tried to fathom what had happened. There was no flash of light, nor was there anything for her to hide behind, even the moving dust was transparent and gradually settling to the ground, or so he assumed. Za¡¯fira noticed the staff was about to stop firing so she cast the mirror spell at the end of her roll and came to her feet. Waiting until the dust turned past her position still caught as it was in her previous roll she stepped closer and to the side of the warrior.


    Just as she was about to kick him from the side he changed how he moved the staff. He grasped the end then spun it outward and around his body making a large circle, raising up the settling dust from the arena floor. As the sweeping staff came near Za¡¯fira strengthened her leg muscles, silently jumping almost thirty hands high. As the warrior made a second sweep he noticed some of the dust was moving up. He glanced up just in time to see nothing, it was as his eyes darted back to check on the dust again Za¡¯fira descended behind him. Using her elbows, she crashed them into his shoulders, driving him to the ground. Stunned he tried to roll with the attack but the descending force and speed Za''fira used prevented him from lessening the impact.


    Dumbfounded and now bent from the impact he was powerless to stop the knee to his kidney, or the open handed strike to the side of his face. How he hated the arena floor, he thought, as the dust filled his mouth. He held up his hands in surrender. Releasing him Za''fira turned to face the final Magji who now sat on a rug on the ground. Pointing to a spot opposite her Za''fira warily cross the distance while feeling out with her senses and Magji gift. Sitting two strides from the woman on a spot of her choosing she waited for her to act.


    What seemed like several chimes had passed before the woman spoke, ¡°It is a shame that we are unable to kill and then still use this skill of healing,¡± she said holding up a hand to stop her protests. ¡°Perhaps in future generations healers will not be so restricted and will be able to do both. You have fought exceptionally well and there is no need to fight me, not because you cannot win, but because you would best me easily. My name is Liavisha, I seldom return to Kepzohely, but I¡¯d heard of your skill and I wanted to see for myself the person behind the tales.


    You have gained the rank of master, use your Magji gifts and the KaMag skill well, for I know you will need them both. Come let us go and join the others for a celebratory drink, Za''fira, perhaps you can tell me about Ricard?¡±  They both stood leaving the empty arena, Za''fira had not noticed the staff tucked under the rug as they exited the arena. Overworked healers took care of the two vanquished fighters while Za''fira looked forward to making a new acquaintance with Liavisha as they left the arena.

 (vi)

    Everything moved back to her stood at the side of the door as the last student cleared the building. Smiling to herself Za''fira entered, closing the door behind her then made for Jastin¡¯s office. Reaching the second floor without incident, knowing the truth of a vision she¡¯d previously had Za''fira took a calming breath before she entered Jastin''s large study.


    A large walnut desk sat in one of the bay windows, piled high with books and scrolls Jastin''s head popped out from the side grinning as he picked up an armful of scrolls which he¡¯d knocked over prior to Za''fira entering. Standing he turned around,


    ¡°there must be a cubbyhole to place these offending scrolls to bed so to speak,¡± he said. ¡°If you didn¡¯t have a library¡¯s worth of information on your desk it wouldn¡¯t make much difference, but to be honest I think there are more scrolls and books on your desk than most library¡¯s¡± replied Za''fira, as she walked over to the other bay window to sit in the overstuffed armchair which looked out over Kepzohely¡¯s extensive grounds.


    ¡°I¡¯ve just ordered a snack and a pot of pine tea, do you want to join me? I¡¯ve ordered enough for all of us,¡± Jastin asked as he finally finished stuffing the scrolls into a space much too small for them. Which was evident for as he turned his back to the bookcase several of the scrolls popped out as though they were pulled by a piece of string. Za''fira agreed to the offer without turning to face Jastin, for she was smiling as she watched Ricard make his way under the covered way toward her and their joining.


    Even though Ricard was unprepared for the news Za''fira was going to give him she knew what his response would be, that alone made the bad news bearable. Less than three bells later Ricard stood at the edge of the clearing in the shade of the large maples, listening to Jastin yet his eyes were everywhere, he nodded in agreement but knew not what to.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°It¡¯s time friend to join your life to the most amazing woman you will ever know,¡± said Jastin. The sound of all the Magji currently at the academy talking in the background, making what Ricard thought of as gentle falling rain on a tin roof suddenly stopped. Jastin held out his hands and began a steady clap, soon all Magji had joined in; the traditional announcement of the soon to be joined woman¡¯s approach.


    The clap reduced in intensity as the woman Za''fira under the escort of Liavisha made her way to the head of the narrow walkway. Towards she knew her heart¡¯s protector and everlasting love, granted to them for an eternity by the Power.


    ¡°We are here this rising to witness the joining under the Power¡¯s blessing Ricard and Za''fira. To be joined as people is a special gift, one not to overlook, to be Magji and joined as one is equally special. We are here to give thanks for they join their lives under the gaze of the Power.¡±


    Holding the couple joined hands aloft Jastin continued to speak. ¡°The Power moves through these joined before you, they hold hands to show they are joined in not only our sight but the Power¡¯s sight. Let us all now cast light into the heavens so that no darkness should ever overshadow them,¡± said Jastin. He was the first to cast the light spell over Ricard and Za''fira.


    Great joy and love filled both their hearts, tears soaked their faces for they both knew the depth of their love. Yet in their minds they both knew the demon war could take either of them at any time. Yet this was the right thing to do, they knew down to the depths of their souls.

 Chapter One

    Felicity (Fliss)


    Evening came on quickly this late in the season, clouds were rapidly moving in the gusting wind across the sky like they were chasing the setting sun. A hopeless task but one neither the wind nor clouds gave thought to only the watchers who stood upon the earth.


    Below in the city of New Altin on the edge of the Ickerton immensity where the majority of grain was grown for the Empire of the true god, were two young women. Although they had never met they were alike as could be, both were beautiful, blue eyed, blonde haired, lithe and tall. To cap it all both had quick minds, quick hands and equally quick mouths, for which they often received chastisement for, although one far worse than the other.


    These things they had in common everything else about them was as different as it could possibly be, evidenced as they sat down to eat their evening meals and the following rising. In the centre of New Altin was the imposing Castle which Princess Felicity called home. It was the first Castle constructed after the defeat of the demons, built within the site of the inner stockade.


    Sages say it was built with magic given by the true god, built upon the ruins of an early time and the starred black granite. Princess Felicity, the only daughter of Prince Gregor and Princess Alibeth, sat at the top table next to one of her three older brothers, prince Ignatius, who she called piggy behind his back.


    As she played with her food Fliss thought, I¡¯m so glad I have little to do with my brothers. The youngest two of my brothers were all for eating, wenching and sleeping in a succession of beds, not rising until the sun reached midpoint before they stirred and scurried back to their own rooms. It¡¯s disgusting, absolutely disgusting, ran her thoughts as she tried one of the head chef¡¯s deserts.


    As Fliss played with her desert she wondered where her eldest brother was. He led her father¡¯s troops and was often absent from the life at the court, yet when at home he was by far the worst of the three. Nobody had a good word for him, even prince Gregor seemed afraid of his heir.


    The only good thing, thought Fliss, about having elder brothers was their reputation. It was so bad it kept most suitors at arm''s length, all apart from the last one who after catching me in a corner without my normal chaperone or Tanya kissed me full on the mouth. It only lasted two heart beats before Tanya appeared but he mysteriously disappeared by the next rising.


    Being a princess was fine, so Fliss thought, when it didn''t include being ogled and pawed over by a range of men both old and young especially the eager young men, keen to get into her or her out of her clothing. Kissing she supposed could be nice if not for the hands that roamed and the tongues which filled my mouth without permission, or nicer still if I had the chance to like the men before they tried to kiss me.


    Fliss knew that as of yet she had not met one man who she felt something for, not even the last one who was nearer her own age, called Buratin. Looking across her desert at her brothers she wondered why they were shorter than her with a predilection for roundness. Just like father, with mother¡¯s dark brown hair; they were often unpleasant when she was a younger girl, calling her names, picking on her and sometimes hitting her, but that cruelty helped toughen her or so she believed.


    This oh so boring meal, thought Fliss as she played with her food, it was all for show, all eleven courses. As usual it was held in the main hall of the Castle, as she scanned the hall it looked like everybody who worked at the Castle was here in some form or other. The meal was to celebrate the arrival of the Caron of Heston and one of his many sons, the man had, if rumour were to be believed, three wives, several paramours and a few mistresses.


    The Caron¡¯s son was almost a splitting image of her brothers, short and rotund, the only noticeable difference was his rather unkempt shoulder length red hair. Father had even allowed the royal golden and silver cutlery to be used; gold for the top table silver for everybody else. Again showing to the people attending from the city just how important he thought the Caron of Heston was.


    She recalled the last time the gold came out it was three annis ago when the leader of the true god faith came for an extended stay, around this time of anni. She shuddered as she remembered his eyes, they were empty of any compassion, sunk as they were into a small head surrounded by an excess of wrinkled skin.


    It was as though he had lost a lot of weight from his body then been hung by his feet from the ceiling as it had all settled on his head. She really didn¡¯t like the way that it seemed as if he was always looking at her; she envisioned him licking his lips as if she were a delicacy to be eaten. Fliss hoped that her surprise party in a sennight¡¯s time would be more fun at least her brothers would not attend as they would be out hunting with father; a tradition passed down from father¡¯s great, great, something father.


    It was after all not every rising the only princess in New Altin reached the milestone of twenty-one annis; especially when it was on the rising before the New Anni celebration at the start of Restoration.


    Stifling a yawn Fliss continued playing with her food pushing the slowly dissolving desert around her bowl longing for the end of the feast so she could slip into her comfortable feather matrass bed. She rubbed absently with her right hand at the markings on her lower arm. Her birth mark as her nurse had called them had been growing up her arm toward her shoulder and getting darker over the past couple of annis, but she hadn¡¯t told anyone about it.


    Her mother called the small mark her birth mark when she was four annis old and was told that everybody had one. Although she had noticed the mark begin to change as a young child, her nurse told her never to talk about it to anyone and always keep the mark covered. Nobody wanted to see a perfect little princess with a skin blemish, now did they?


    Her nurse¡¯s words came back to her quite clearly so she stopped rubbing her arm. Flicking the desert on the floor she took her spoon to clean it on her sleeve to a nice shine.


    Ziafra (Zia)


    Within the original outer wall, now called the inner wall, New Altin was designed around four separate districts; each having a quarter of the space within the old city walls. The ground between the old and new walls housed the growing population, extending outward filling the spaces more haphazardly there was no clear distinct segmentation like inside the walls.


    To an unpractised eye the outer space was chaos, businesses side by side with housing for the poor and rich alike, although no homes were built near the inner wall for security¡¯s sake. Small communities had grown around each of the new gates and were initially named by number, so visitors could easily find their way around.


    The Northage gate lined up with the original Northage barbican in the now inner wall. The road between both gates was paved with stones like all roads between the walls, all were a hand width in their dimensions. The new gate was called sector zero and so forth moving clockwise until the last gated community was called sector thirty-two. The distinction in the new area was less pronounced with the districts merging across the trail and canal systems.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    The population of New Altin counted every five annis and according to the masters in the academy was overfour hundred and thirty thousand souls, four annis previously. In the canal district within the old walls in a rented dwelling near the wall and near the currently open canal gate sat Ziafra, in one of the smallest homes a family could rent in this district. She hated her name, her time at all the different charity schools she attended caused her to detest her name.


    Some of the teachers were the worse than the children at heaping abuse on her. Who did her parents think they were, naming her after the Magji Za''fira? By the time she reached her tenth naming celebration she would only answer to the name Zia and when they moved back to New Altin that was what people called her. Where did that all come from? Zia thought as she sat down and counted what little money they had.


    Living as they did in the canal district the rent was as Zia knew a modest fee of one and a half silvers a sennight or thirty-five gold coins for a full anni. That was a rich saving of three whole gold coins if one could afford such money in one go. It had one common purpose room along with one very small bedroom. The garderobe was corralled up against the city wall, it was not theirs alone, rather it was shared by three other homes, situated at the end of their housing cul-de-sac.


    Thankfully the garderobe connected to the soil system and with the canal nearby water was not an issue for them to flush solids away. Yet some of their neighbours were lazy, often it was left to the one who couldn¡¯t face the growing smell to flush their combined solids away. With her mother being so ill Zia now slept on the floor near the small open fire. A fire which provided the both the heat for cottage and heat for cooking all in an oven built into the cottage central wall.


    The space was currently occupied yet would soon become her bed space once she had collapsed the folding table where she now sat. She pushed the meagre pile of coins aside and began eating a bowl of very thin broth. She had fed her mother first and changed her night clothes before she ate her food. It would not be long before she pinched out the two small candle lights and turned herself in before the curfew bells sounded.


    She had one last check to make on her mother before she could roll out her sleeping mat on the hard stone floor. She worried as her mother was getting weaker by the rising. What she needed was meat, she thought. Nice juicy meat wrapped in flaky pastry. With those ideas in her mind Zia laid down and quickly drifted to sleep.


    Fliss


    Early the next rising just as the sun was breaking the horizon Fliss rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and quickly used the nightjar before she slipped off her nightgown to get washed. She looked at herself in the small mirror she owned and noticed her birth mark had taken on several different shapes separating into distinct patterns just beneath the surface of her skin.


    Touching them tentatively with her fingers she realised that they were smooth to the touch, just like always, she thought. A chime later washed and dried she got herself dressed, ¡®finally¡¯ she thought, her father, her eldest brother, at home for a change and the Caron of Heston with his son would be occupied for the next two risings as they visited two or three of the outlying towns which supplied New Altin with a variety of goods.


    She heard from overhearing one of the grooms who was going too when she was making her way back from the aviary where Aquila was housed. The groom said he was looking forward to the hunting but not the side trip that they were contemplating, a look at the ruined buildings of the previous age, half a rising away. Fliss would have shuddered at the thought of those ruins, hearing many frightening tales from the servants of what occasionally crept out of them bringing death and despair in their wake; but for some reason she knew there was nothing there to make her so fearful.


    Obviously father was showing his wealth and bravery off to the Caron, with a transparent attempt to portray New Altin as rich both in goods, wealth and military prowess. They would also take in a hunt or two as her father loved nothing more than bringing home some meat for the table, especially returning after a trip to the ruins. Slipping away from both her rooms and attendant female guard was easy as she¡¯d let Tanya have the rising free just as she¡¯d promised earlier that sennight.


    Smiling to herself she was pleased that she¡¯d allowed Tanya to call her Fliss when they were alone as it reminded her of her old nurse calling her that. Fliss also lied as she told Tanya that she wouldn¡¯t talk with anybody or leave the royal wing; although technically true but she would be leaving her rooms hiding away from everybody. Trusting her word Tanya told Fliss to be careful with the Caron of Heston billeted as he was on the floor beneath hers. Fliss knew Tanya would have slipped away with the rising of the sun and the changing of the guard just before dawn bells so she could meet with her boyfriend who was in the city guard but it was his normal rest period.


    Taking a slice of bread covering it with a red jam preserve she took a quick look out of a window. Fliss looked out over the city marvelling at the play of dawn light on the roof far below, she watched as a guard made their way around their part of the Castle wall.


    The Castle


    The Castle stood proudly in the centre of New Altin, a brooding hulk of all grey Magji-Creete streaked with fingers of starred black granite; the stone which the Castle was supposedly built upon by design of the Prophet. Built between four huge towers which rose majestically towering nine floors above the main building, the core at its centre was a solid rectangular cuboid over ten floors tall. Windows eventually broke its plain fa?ade beginning ten strides from the ground letting light shine out during the night.


    Those nearest the ground were barred arrow slits while nearer the roof balconies jutted out on the royal floor. A hundred people couldn¡¯t encircle the towers even if they touched fingertip to fingertip so large were they. The Castle had one entrance on the Southage side making it difficult for those who attacked as they would be exposed to fire from archers and priestages alike.


    The city had grown since its creation and now had two city walls while the Castle had its own, both the Castle wall and the original wall were made from Magji-Creete. The outer wall had four barbicans, each over thirty paces deep and fifty paces high at the cardinal compass headings. Whereas the Castle wall had only one barbican at the Northage point, being ten paces wider than the width of the wall and thirty paces high.


    The original wall was in excess of five thousand strides, varying between ten to fifteen strides in its width and twenty strides high, made from Magji-Creete two risings before the final battle in the demon war. The Castle wall was somewhat over one and a half thousand strides long and was between six to eight paces wide and fifteen to twenty paces high. Magji-Creete was a material similar in looks to a material that was used in the first age of men; or so the oracles say. It was created in chimes by Magji, but would stand an eternity. The Magji-Creete was both seamless and smooth on the exposed faces, mottled with a high gloss finish, like the best marble the rich used to cover the floor in their residences.


    While the footways were rough with clean drainage channels cut into the surfaces that easily dealt with the surface water giving guards a good grip in any weather, especially the rain downpours that were common.


    Star-speckled Stone


    In places around New Altin there were patches of night sky deepest black star-speckled stone that had somehow replaced the Magji-Creete in the inner wall, while the Castle wall was a good even split. The towers on the Castle along with the bottom twenty strides of the main building were all the black star-speckled stone. The new outer wall built over one hundred annis ago was made from the local Redstone it was only ten strides high and only wide enough at the top that on the path that ran its length four men could walk side-by-side.


    Fliss had never walked its length but knew there were over thirty simple gates built into its length, the top of the new wall was plain not even having the small towers like the inner wall had. Fliss thought that the crenelations and machicolations on the inner wall looked like stubby fingers, they rose to the height of three men on top of the wall bulging out about two to three strides and were placed every ten strides. The small towers built into the inner wall were every two hundred paces and sixty paces high giving a commanding view over the newest part of New Altin.


    The barbicans that allowed entrance into the city were named after the direction they faced, Fliss thought that Barbican Westage was the most ornate as she¡¯d spent many a rising drawing the figures cast by the Magji during its construction, while the other three were just plain ugly blobs of Magji-Creete designed to bar access should the need arise.


    The barbican that allowed access into the Castle was slightly smaller than the others in the inner wall and would have been just as ugly as the three plain ones yet this barbican was made from the black star-speckled stone which gave it a creepy feel, Fliss thought it was watching her every time she went through it.