Shadow in Ar'Sanciond Read online

  Shadow in Ar’Sanciond

  A Relics of Ar’Zac Prequel Novella

  __________________

  Sarina Langer

  Copyright © Sarina Langer 2019

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the purchaser.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design © Design for Writers

  www.sarinalanger.com

  Content Warning

  Please be advised that Shadow in Ar’Sanciond contains content some readers may find upsetting such as, but not limited to, violence. Please proceed with caution if this might cause distress.

  To my sister.

  I still think of you every day.

  In the beginning, everyone died.

  That’s how it started—a group of sorcerers, eager to learn, determined to teach the world something new, taking one step too many.

  No one teaches you what to do when the lives of millions are on the line. No one teaches you the right answer when your circumstances ask, ‘Who will you save? Everyone you know or a future which might be doomed regardless?’

  I pray our actions are worth the cost. I pray we die to give you a chance.

  If not…

  I’m sorry.

  Mavis Lis

  (from Tome of Ar’Zac Dar, final page)

  Prologue

  Sorcerer Eldon ignored the discomfort in his gut. Nerves were normal given what they were about to do; he couldn’t let slight worries distract him. That, and he was hungry. They’d travelled all morning since before sunrise and had finally reached their destination. He stepped onto a large rock to get a better view of Hunter’s Rest, a scenic clearing as far away from civilisation as possible in case the spell had wider effects than he anticipated.

  ‘What’s next, sir?’

  Eldon smiled at his pupil. The young man was too excited to stand still. His other five students paced too. Eldon adored their eagerness to learn, and he was doing everything he could to fuel it. He chuckled—what a treat it would be to be a young novice again. He never tired of their enthusiasm. Nowadays, he only felt this ecstatic when he happened upon a rare gem in his research, like the moment that had sparked this project.

  But they hadn’t come all this way to admire the scenery or to be nostalgic. This wasn’t an ordinary excursion; he would treat it with the respect it deserved, because he needed his pupils to do the same.

  ‘Is everyone ready?’ Eldon asked his pupil.

  ‘Ready and keen, sir.’

  ‘Good! Everyone’—he raised his voice so his small group could hear him—‘it’s time. Take your positions as we practised.’

  His six pupils rushed into their rehearsed spots—a circle large enough for their spell but not too large to be unmanageable for their small, inexperienced number. Eldon joined them and took a deep breath. He was a little giddy—this project would set him above other sorcerers and grant him incredible respect. He’d become the man who had dared the unspeakable and succeeded. The first to go ahead and do more than dream. A pioneer.

  In half an hour, they’d have stolen a glance into the Mists. All his work, endless research, and preparations would have paid off.

  But right now, his heart hammered so hard he hoped he could focus. He’d never attempted anything like this. They had practised the spell’s theory, had linked their gifts often enough that their magic should recognise and find each other easily today, but it was still theory. Studying the Mists in depth was forbidden. Felan hadn’t let him use the spell inside the city.

  Today, Eldon would walk a fine line between theory and practise.

  Today, he would make history.

  His students looked just as excited, and he gave them encouraging nods. They were ready. He was ready.

  ‘Let’s begin.’

  Eldon reached out with his gift and spread it over the clearing—a necessary precaution, to make sure the area hadn’t already been tampered with. When everything was safe—he’d checked three times since they’d arrived, just to be sure—he guided his magic to the two pupils by his sides. Their gifts joined with his and reached out to the pupils closest to them until they had one fully linked circle. They flooded the space between them with their gift, and the air crackled in response.

  His pupils had closed their eyes on his orders—they weren’t skilled enough to cast such a complicated spell without getting distracted—but Eldon saw the atmosphere change. It looked heavy. Tiny sparks of silver fire and blue lightning danced through the circle, harmless until directed and hungry for more. Small white lights of pure magic danced around them, embracing the elements.

  Eldon focussed their gifts and felt his pupils do the same through the link. With as much care as he could muster, he tore at the Mists. It wasn’t easy—his magic had to reach from their world into the next and grab something ethereal he couldn’t see, only sense. It required the most delicate touch. Too much pressure and his gift would move right through the Mists without achieving anything. Too little and he couldn’t hold onto the thin shadow wisps.

  Too much power and the Mist’s dark residents would notice and cling to his gift so tight he’d have no choice but to pull them through.

  And that’s where the real danger lay.

  The Mists housed the restless souls of the departed and all kinds of demons. Worst of all were the Dark One and His Mothers—the Mists’ evil ruler and His loyal, shapeless servants. They were the reason in-depth study of the Mists was forbidden, and the reason he couldn’t fail.

  Eldon’s gift grabbed the tiniest strip of shadow…

  And pulled.

  Quietly.

  Carefully.

  Nervously.

  At their circle’s centre, a tear opened in mid-air.

  Eldon smiled. He hadn’t actually expected them to get this far. His pupils deserved more credit than he’d given them.

  ‘Reach inside with your gifts,’ he said, ‘but be gentle. Remember what I told you—you may stand in the door frame, but you mustn’t enter the house.’

  The first pupil reached inside. Through their link, Eldon saw what his pupil saw: Darkness. A landscape so surreal no one would ever believe him. Jagged rocks and smooth stone. Cracked ground and deep lakes. And around that, the Mists swirled like the true rulers of the realm.

  ‘What do you see?’ Eldon asked.

  ‘Darkness.’

  Some of the other pupils snickered.

  ‘Yes, but look deeper. What can you see inside the Mists?’

  His pupil hesitated. ‘Pain, sir. Loneliness.’ Eldon felt his discomfort through their link.

  ‘Good. Retreat. Next, please.’

  His pupil’s gift withdrew as another’s stepped onto the threshold.

  ‘What do you see?’

  His pupil sobbed. ‘It’s awful. Can anyone else feel this suffering?’

  Two pupils nodded. A tear rolled down the cheek of the pupil opposite him. It affected Eldon too, but he couldn’t show it. Today more than ever, he needed to be their unshakeable teacher.

  ‘What do you see, sir?’ one pupil asked.

  Eldon smiled and stepped onto the threshold. The darkness beyond was maddening, the pain of the lost souls suffocating. He couldn’t see far ahead; the black void swallowed everything.

>   Somewhere inside these depths was the Dark One. A sobering thought. Perhaps they’d risked enough for today.

  ‘Everyone, draw your gifts back to you.’

  ‘Already?’ two pupils said.

  ‘Yes. Don’t forget what this is. The longer we stay, the higher the chance of detection.’

  A few of them moaned, but they obeyed.

  ‘Good. Hold on while I close the tear.’

  Eldon reached out once more with his gift, enclosed the tear with his magic, and pushed it closed like a window.

  Only, the tear remained. Something blocked him.

  ‘Is something wrong, sir?’

  He glanced at the tear, prayed the disturbance was nothing major, and paled.

  Out of the dark void, something looked back at him—and grinned.

  Cold shivers ran down his arms and back. ‘Everyone, reach out again and push!’

  His pupils hurried their gifts to the centre and shoved like one might against a stuck door, but the tear didn’t close.

  ‘Harder!’ The more they pushed, the more the something pushed back. ‘Now, or we’ll—’

  One of his pupils screamed. Thin Mist poured out of the tear, rose to match Eldon’s height, and took on the silhouette of a person. Its shape swirled with liquid shadow. Its arms formed swords, sharp as glass. It turned to Eldon and screeched.

  The blood inside his veins froze. He had let a Mother slip through. But perhaps with it here, the tear would no longer be blocked. They could defeat one Mother—if nothing else followed it.

  ‘Push, now.’

  But the invisible wall remained. Their combined gifts weren’t enough to close the tear.

  All colour drained from Eldon’s face. He was too old to be optimistic when faced with grim facts.

  ‘Again!’ This tear couldn’t stay open. ‘Use the full force of your magic, don’t hold back!’

  The Mother turned away from him and glided towards the pupil on his right.

  ‘Sir—’

  It grew its sword right into his skin, like a tree sprouting another branch—only, it did so within a heartbeat, not over many months.

  In through his pupil’s heart, out through his back.

  A silent scream died on his lips as the Mother withdrew its weapon and he collapsed in a bloody heap on the ground. His death broke the link.

  Their circle died.

  Mothers flooded from the tear. And behind them, a shadow darker than anything Eldon had ever seen.

  The Dark One.

  ‘Run.’

  But there was nowhere to go—a Mother waited in every shadow. One by one, they cut down his pupils. Eldon feared their screams would be the last sounds he’d ever hear.

  The Mothers turned to him but didn’t attack. Eldon built as much magic inside him as possible and released it all at once. The air caught fire. Trees burnt, the grass beneath his feet blackened under the heat. The Mothers screeched, disintegrated under the heat of his magic—

  But more came through. And behind them, the darkest shadow floated towards Eldon. Built before him. Smooth and cold as polished stone. It reached out, curled its Mists around Eldon’s ankles and arms until he couldn’t move. It crawled up his back like a massive spider.

  Eldon wanted to be brave, but he wasn’t sure how. He feared what the Dark One might want from him, but he didn’t dare ask. It was bad enough that he had invited this evil into their world. He wouldn’t stoop lower, break more laws, and make deals with the demons.

  The darkest shadow laughed. The sound stole into Eldon’s bones, raced through his veins…

  And smothered his mind into oblivion.

  The darkest shadow took a moment longer to come to than He’d have liked. Eldon had seemed promising—a teacher, an accomplished sorcerer, available—but his true power left much to be desired. Eldon’s mind needed a while to get used to His power.

  He closed His new fist, stretched His new fingers as much as He could, and threw a ball of black fire into the air. It spread—thin, and not very far—and spawned more Mothers where it coated the charred ground. Not perfect, but He could bend any material if He was patient enough. Restraint wasn’t His strength, but He had little choice.

  His Mothers had gathered around Him while He contemplated His temporary form. Scrawny. Tall. Authoritative. He could have done worse, but not much.

  He tested His new voice. ‘Feast.’

  The Mothers fell upon the corpses and devoured flesh, blood, and bones. Good. He wasn’t used to speaking out loud. In the Mists, His demands entered His servants’ consciousness if He willed it. He’d need to get used to speaking if He wanted to be a convincing sorcerer.

  By His will, His Mothers knew to leave some of the bodies. If anyone came to investigate, He wanted them to see what had happened—or better yet, guess. Faint ideas were so much more terrifying than knowledge. The more chaos He caused, the easier it would be to slip into their lives unnoticed.

  He could pretend to be the sorcerer—Eldon, He had to get used to that name—for a week or three until His power was restored. He did have time, He just didn’t like wasting it. If He got greedy and did too much too quickly, He could burn through the sor—Eldon’s mind and end up without a host. Convincing someone else to open themselves to Him would take too long. It had been luck that Eldon had been too close to His realm to withstand His influence.

  The darkest shadow searched Eldon’s mind and found a city’s name and image. Large. Pompous. The capital.

  Five of you follow me into Sanciond. The rest of you stay here until I call.

  His Mothers didn’t react. Somewhere at the forefront of His new head, a faint pain pulsed. A headache? Eldon’s abilities were even smaller than He’d feared. Not one or three weeks, then. At least a month, maybe more.

  He repeated His command out loud—at least Eldon’s voice had the necessary authority—and turned west towards the capital. If He used His gift He’d get there instantly, but Eldon’s fragile mind wouldn’t survive it and it would arouse too much suspicion. They’d expect Eldon to be broken; after all, he’d just lost his dear pupils and come so close to death himself. No, He would need to take His time.

  He’d recover most of His power along the way.

  Chapter One

  Mavis Lis seldom felt troubled when she left Felan’s office. Her job as seer was simple—surrender to the vision, tell Felan what she’d seen, and let the higher-ups worry about it. She wasn’t a politician or one of the emperor’s Sparrows, and since being a seer was more of a side obligation to her passion—and since she was Tramuran, she suspected, even though no one had said anything—many of Sanciond’s sorcerers didn’t give her visions the same importance as their own. She reported potential problems so other people could fix them; she had too much to do with her own research to do their work as well.

  Normally, she was happy with that, but her visions never left her feeling like something horrible was about to happen. Mavis blamed it on this vision being more of a prophecy. All seers could receive prophecies, but it didn’t happen often. Visions showed events that were already unfolding and a given if nothing changed, but prophecies showed only one of many possible outcomes for the same event. They lacked specificity. Many seers didn’t bother.

  Mavis didn’t like what this one had shown her.

  She sighed and closed the door behind her. Visions were easier to read, too. If she saw assassins killing Emperor Awarnach at dusk, she could warn him and his Sparrows and thwart the assassins. Not that there’d been any attempts on the emperor’s life in a long time. He had united the North; they enjoyed peace thanks to him. But even if she saw something like that, other seers would report it before her since visions showed themselves to multiple seers.

  Prophecy didn’t follow the same rules. It was rare, it only revealed itself to one person for reasons they hadn’t yet uncovered, it was vague, and it had promised the end of everything she knew. How long did they have? Could she prevent it?

  If there wa
s one thing Mavis hated more than anything else, it was not knowing, and this prophecy was full of unknowns. Felan, Ar’Sanciond’s Head Sorcerer, hadn’t looked too concerned. He’d written it down, but they didn’t have enough detail for an investigation.

  Mavis moved a few books around on the floor to make room and sat between them. Vail said she had too much research material. She said there was no such thing.

  She closed her eyes and breathed deep. If she could somehow build a connection to whoever the prophecy had referred to… Creating a link to someone in the future was her latest project, and while she hadn’t succeeded yet, she liked a challenge. She preferred to build on knowledge and experience, but she’d work with what she had—theory and determination. The prophecy had topped all other motivations to get results.

  Mavis nudged her gift around the space in her mind where her visions originated. It wasn’t a physical place, more of a feeling and a nightmare to describe to struggling novices. But her gift was ready and it knew where to go, so she sent it from her centre into her mind and let it search.

  Feel the prophecy, she told it. Find the one we sensed.

  She always sensed the people in her visions. Prophecy was more delicate, but she had felt something. Uncertainty. Paranoia. A deep desire for peace. Strong emotions like those had to be traceable.

  Mavis took another deep breath in…

  And fell into her gift. Into the dark, eternal void only seers weren’t afraid to surrender to, because her gift led the way.

  Magic—the gift—was volatile by nature. Fire could easily get out of control. A bit of rain could turn into a hurricane. But visions could take her deeper, further, as long as she trusted her magic and was willing to follow.

  But it had never taken her this far.

  Mavis had experimented with small glimpses one week or maybe one month ahead, but this… Her gift took her far into the future. Maybe further than anyone was supposed to go.