Chapter Ten
The four wanderers from the City soon reached the foot of the nearby hill which Safreon and Gwineval had chosen to climb. They encountered some marshes at the base which they had to navigate amidst the din of frogs and insects. They were bothered by small clouds of flies which sought to bite them and required regular swatting to keep at bay.
Soon they passed through the marshes, only having to enter the water outright in one spot; they waded across a deep stream which had stretched as far as they could see in either direction, discouraging any attempt to walk around it. Safreon had carried Merit overhead while Gwineval took the opportunity to bathe in the ochre water and seemed to take pleasure and refreshment in it.
After they had traversed the marsh, they began to climb at a slight incline and they were engulfed by the forest canopy. Makeshift paths were found among the roots of larger trees–almost serving as natural stairs in some portions of the ascent. They periodically encountered stone outcroppings which formed natural walls that sometimes could be avoided and sometimes required climbing.
The ascent became steeper and their legs began to labor. Hemlock offered to carry Merit for a time but Safreon and Gwineval declined her offer. She was somewhat offended by their refusal, but decided to keep that to herself and let them deal with the burden if that was their preference.
In some places, the roots of great fallen trees had formed shadowy, cave-like openings in the earth. These they avoided, for Hemlock mentioned that the spider creature that she had encountered had emerged from a similar opening.
Soon they reached a shallow stream, which they crossed with care because the rocky bottom was very slippery. The trees became thicker and rocky outcroppings became more common. They had to climb up small rock faces more frequently now and they could see a hint of a commanding view of the valley below them. Hemlock mentioned climbing a tree to reconnoiter, but Safreon and Gwineval preferred to continue toward the top of the hill where they anticipated an uninterrupted view of the surroundings and the valley below.
They had been climbing for roughly an hour when they emerged onto an expansive rocky summit. They quickly noted something odd. In the center of the summit was a large obelisk and there was a strong feeling of magical power which seemed to move through their bodies like a vibration.
"What is that?" asked Hemlock.
Safreon turned to Gwineval, whose face wore an expression of surprise, dismay and complicity at the same time. These emotions looked a bit odd playing out over serpentine features, but they were clear nonetheless.
Gwineval looked back and forth at Hemlock and Safreon and he carefully placed Merit on the ground before responding.
"I’m not exactly sure," hissed Gwineval, "it does seem to bear the aura of Wizard Guild magic."
Their gazes were drawn back to the Obelisk. It was an unearthly tone of black. It had the form of a flat slab that was smooth and solid on one side with an edge that traced a graceful curve, while in contrast, the other edge was brutally jagged and was formed of unfinished stone.
As their eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, they discerned movement in the air above the obelisk. Small wisps of light, scarcely visible, but leaving trails of gray luminescence in their wake, were being drawn down from the air and into the stone in a great sweeping spiral. As the wisps reached the Obelisk, the latter seemed to hum and surge with power and the wisps did not emerge.
The wanderers were all transfixed at the sight, for it was spectacular; but Hemlock felt she was witnessing something terrible. She sensed a life-force in the wisps and she had an intuition that the magic of the Obelisk was devouring that life. She glanced at Safreon and Gwineval; they both wore dark looks on their faces. Hemlock guessed that they had drawn similar conclusions to hers.
Hemlock concentrated on the Obelisk, using her unique sensory abilities to gauge the magical forces in play within it. There was a strong force of attraction and peace which emanated from the smooth side of the obelisk. But on the jagged side there was a weaker or perhaps a hidden power. This hidden power was one of torment, subjugation and exploitation. The attractive force felt like Wizard Guild magic to Hemlock. It was somehow ordered, as it manifested in all of her senses. She sensed a vast lattice of interwoven spells, each unique to its caster, but cast according to an overarching structure. She heard it almost like a chorus of wind chimes in near perfect harmony. She tasted it like many complementary flavors.
What she sensed from the exploitative force was wild and unstructured. It felt organic,. She quickly diverted her mind from it before the sensory impact became too severe.
"It’s a cunning magical trap," Hemlock commented.
"Hemlock!" Safreon gasped, squinting his eyes and leaning his head forward, which she interpreted as a command to be silent.
"I suspected as much, Safreon. It is clear now that she is attuned to magic. That explains, in part, how she was able to enter the Wizard Tower," chided Gwineval.
"Hemlock, you have no subtlety it seems!" Safreon exclaimed.
"Sorry," Hemlock responded.
"What do you know of this obelisk, Gwineval?" asked Safreon angrily.
"Can we destroy it?" interjected Hemlock.
Gwineval looked distraught and shook his head negatively toward Hemlock. Then she saw his eyes turn inward, as if he was momentarily lost in thought.
He then began to relate a tale from his past.
…
Gwineval sat in his seat in the observation balcony. The other observing wizards near him were restless, whispering amongst themselves. Gwineval was intent on the proceedings below.
Below his vantage point, a meeting of the Wizard’s council was underway. Each circle of magic had a Wizard representative seated at a large, round onyx table which shone beautifully in the torchlight. One seat was notably vacant. The other wizards at the onyx table looked concerned.
The vacant seat was that of Zaringer, leader of the council, Wizard of the Seventh Circle and representative for that circle to the council. He was late for the proceedings, which was unusual in the extreme.
Suddenly a mist began to gather near the vacant seat, its source not apparent. The mist moved to the seat and began to strengthen and coalesce into the vague form of a man. Strange, inchoate sounds were heard emanating from the mist, and soon they began to resemble a voice, sounding very far and distant.
The wizards at the table seemed unnerved, yet despite their obvious discomfiture, they remained seated, watching the strange phenomenon that was unfolding before them.
Gwineval noted that one member of the council seemed oddly composed. Falignus, the young, cocksure Fourth Circle Wizard, who was a bit of a rising star in the Guild, sat calmly and almost looked serene. Why should he alone seem unfazed by this very unusual apparition?
"Members of the Council," spoke a voice from the misty figure, which now clearly was an image of Zaringer, his voice sounding like it was booming over a great distance.
"I speak to you today so that I might make an announcement concerning the Seventh Circle. My duties have become too pressing of late and I no longer can attend the council. I have arranged for a new Wizard to be promoted to the Seventh Circle and to direct our affairs within the Guild."
A gasp sounded throughout the room as the wizards began to speculate who might be identified for this new role.
"Do not be concerned," the voice continued after a time, seeming to have some awareness of the reaction in the room, "we have chosen this individual with great care and he has been trained in secret for many weeks now. We did it in secret, knowing that this transition might alarm some of you–and we did not wish to have any debate distract us from the transition."
Some of the other Council members were starting to look angry then, and they began to mutter forcefully amongst themselves.
The voice continued: "Rest assured that the Seventh Circle is guiding the affairs of the Guild with great care and will cont
inue to do so for eons to come. I ask that you weigh your reactions carefully, for we will not tolerate any undue disorder during this transition."
The room fell silent at the final remark. The threat contained in those words was clear. Many wizards slumped back in their seats, and though their body language was still combative, no further words were spoken in dissent.
The misty figure looked around the hall and seemed satisfied with the reaction of the assembled wizards.
"The new Seventh Circle Wizard and sole authority for Seventh Circle dealings with the council and the Guild is: Falignus, formerly the representative of the Fourth Circle."
There were a few gasps of surprise at this news, but the chilling effect of the threat of Zaringer was still fresh in the minds of all in attendance.
Falignus, still looking calm and composed, rose from his seat and solemnly strode toward the apparition of Zaringer.
Zaringer’s form rose up from the seat and began to fade from view. As it did, a final remark was heard and it seemed to ring far more loudly and shrill than before.
"Falignus’ authority over the Wizard Guild is not to be questioned. He, alone, is our representative and his counsel carries the full weight of the Seventh Circle of wizards."
Falignus took the final few steps toward the now vacant Seventh Circle seat and sat down in a measured and assured movement. He paused for a few moments and then spoke to the wizards.
"Fellow wizards, I understand that these events are a surprise to you. The fact is that the Seventh Circle is making unprecedented progress toward a new level of power for the entire Guild. All will be revealed over time. Several events have transpired which have required an increased focus on research in the Seventh Circle. Our uneasy alliance with the Witches continues, and our Oberon supplies grow steadily. Yet we fear that the Witches’ power is growing as well, and we must take care to complete our research as quickly as possible. We all understand the value in extending our life spans so that we may develop more advanced spells to combat the Witches."
The room erupted in questions then, and Falignus took his staff and struck the floor forcefully, sending a loud thud through the room. All were silent then and Falignus spoke again.
"Remember that the representatives are the only speaking members of the council."
"Why can’t we just unbind the Witch Crags from the City?" asked Malvert, the representative of the First Circle, with a gravelly voice gained from being a scarred veteran and leader of many combat operations.
"A reasonable question," answered Falignus. "Even if we could recall the ancient dweomers that bound the Witch Crags to the City, we would have to muster a great power in order to dispel them. No doubt the Witches would not be cooperative and would attack us. They understand that the City is the engine that propels us through the dimensions. They can harvest far more souls as we travel through the multiverse than they would be able to if they were bound to a single plane. They would not give up that advantage without strong resistance."
The answer seemed to satisfy the room.
"For now, we will increase our cooperation with the Witches. We need more Oberon for our experiments. We have spoken to the Witches and some of you will soon be working with them to improve the soul harvesting process. This work is…distasteful. But you must look at it as the means to an end–a glorious end which will finally rid us of the Witches and secure a golden age for the Guild and for the City."
…
Gwineval finished his tale and added an observation: "I think that this obelisk must be the result of our collaboration with the Witches to generate more Oberon."
Safreon was furious. "Is this what the City is built upon? The subjugation of the weak? We deprive these poor souls of their right to pass to higher planes so that we may have more magical comforts?"
"Comforts?" replied Gwineval angrily. "The magic that the Guild provides keeps the most basic functions of the City working. Structured life in the City would not exist but for our magic. The populous of the City increasingly demands more magic and so more Oberon is required. Plus, the Witches are a real adversary to the City and should not be underestimated. It takes all of our power to counterbalance their power. Our magical research is the key to the eventual destruction of the Witches."
"I liked that Wizard’s idea to unbind the Witch Crags from the City. Why not do that?" asked Hemlock as Safreon strode away a few paces, red faced and trying to control his emotions.
"You heard Falignus’ answer," replied Gwineval "the Witches wouldn’t want to be unbound. Plus, the magical appetite of the City is too great now to go without the Oberon that we obtain from the Witch Crags."
Those words had the ring of truth in Hemlock’s mind. The plight of her sister came back into her mind with a painful suddenness.
Safreon rejoined them, looking more composed, but remaining silent.
"So you’re saying that the City is dependent on the Guild for magic? What would happen if the Guild stopped supplying magic to the City?" asked Hemlock in a frustrated tone.
Gwineval looked reflective and then spoke: "Some of this is conjecture on my part. Some is fact. We are not privy to all of the information that the Seventh Circle has concerning the origins of the City and our guild. Sadly much is still draped under a veil of secrecy."
"Just get on with it," urged Hemlock.
"I believe that the land upon which the City is built is inherently magical, but that it is a sort of chaos magic. That is why the City phases in and out of different realms. The Imperator originally learned how to control the wild magic of the land and was able to build the City. Sometime after the Imperator and his empire failed, a group of wizards were able to again tame the chaos and to control the wild magic so that the City could be rebuilt and magic spells be could cast with predictable outcomes. The wizards who originally cast this magic were the founders of the new City."
Gwineval continued: "Falignus has hinted that unbinding the Witch Crags could create a rift in the magic that controls the chaos and trigger a dark age across the land."
"That’s a convenient excuse to maintain the status quo, isn’t it?" asked Safreon.
"I agree that it could seem contrived, yet I still feel that it may be true," responded Gwineval.
No one spoke for a few moments, as all of them again regarded the spectacle of the Obelisk.
Safreon broke the silence, his voice sounding sullen, as if he had withdrawn into himself to process this new information. "Gwineval, what exactly does Falignus, Zaringer, the Seventh Circle of wizards and their Crimson Order have in mind for the City once they complete this ‘research’?"
Gwineval did not have to consider his response. "Absolute order achieved through total domination and control."
Hemlock was aghast: "What about the Senate? What about the laws?"
"I rather suspect that the wizards will simply eliminate the Senate and revise the laws as they see fit," responded Gwineval.
Hemlock was appalled. Safreon only grunted, apparently having already reached this same conclusion in his mind.
Several additional moments passed until Safreon shifted his focus back to the demands of the group’s current situation. He walked over to the edge of a rocky outcropping and looked off into the distant valley below. After a time, he motioned to the others and they moved north to another vantage point, cautiously keeping the magical obelisk as far from them as possible. Even at a distance of fifty yards or so, the magical energy emanating from it was palpable.
As they reached the northern vantage point, Gwineval remarked, "I see a tower – a Tanna Varran town is down there."
He pointed and Hemlock and Safreon drew close to follow the line of his arm. Hemlock noted an odd sour scent emanating from Gwineval and recalled it from their fight in the Wizard Tower.
"Well, that’s settled then," noted Safreon.
Hemlock gazed at the distant Tower. It had odd angles to it that made it seem otherworl
dly. At this distance, Hemlock could not make out any details on the structure, but was left with a distinctly otherworldly impression nonetheless.
Following this, there were a few more minutes of discussion about the Obelisk and what to do next. Finally, it was determined that they would leave the Obelisk and head toward the Tanna Varran town.
"There is one more point of business," noted Gwineval cryptically toward Safreon.
"Yes, I haven’t forgotten. Still, do you think it wise?" asked Safreon.
"Safreon, at this point I do not know if Falignus is friend or foe. Therefore I am proceeding according to my own interests. I believe that by studying the item that I may be able to learn more about its function. The knowledge will benefit both of us–regardless of the circumstances," Gwineval replied.
"All right, please explain yourselves. What is all of this talk of business?" asked Hemlock.
Safreon began to explain: "Hemlock, for some time I have had in my possession a very unique magical item. I have used it sparingly, for I have been fearful of it being discovered by the Wizard Guild."
"I used it to contact Gwineval within the Wizard Tower once I guessed that you had decided to enter it," continued Safreon.
"You may have heard Gwineval referring to the tales of the Imperator and the founding of his Empire. Well these are not simply tales; they are true. And I have one of the Wands of the Imperator that were originally given out to the Imperator’s most trusted servants," Safreon explained.
"Safreon, that Wand makes you one of the most powerful wizards in the entire realm," Hemlock stated.
"Precisely," stated Gwineval urgently.
Hemlock cast a wary eye toward Gwineval and took stock of his face, but his features were unreadable to her.
"What do you want with the Wand, Gwineval?" she asked.
"I want to study it under Safreon’s supervision," he responded.
Hemlock exhaled skeptically and looked at Safreon. He wore a look of resignation on his face.
"Hemlock, I have given Gwineval my word."
"Having the wand may also be vital for us in case we need to resist Falignus," Gwineval pointed out.
"That may be so," said Safreon.
"How will you do it? How will you retrieve the wand?" asked Hemlock.
Safreon considered. "I can use the magical energies of the Obelisk here. In doing so, I will be able to contact a beast that I befriended in the mountains in my youth. She is a Griffin. You may have seen her on the ledge of the Wizard Tower atrium last night. She knows the location of the Wand and can bring it to us at great speed if so instructed. I usually contact her using the Wand, but in this case I should be able to do so by using the magical energies of the Obelisk."
"There is some risk that the wizards will detect this communication, but it may be our only chance to try it," he continued.
"Safreon, I don’t like this," said Hemlock. "Why risk detection just for Gwineval to be able to study the Wand? He can study the wand when we get back to the City," she pointed out.
"I think that we need to consider that we may be gone from the City for some time. Also, Falignus has seen Penelope, the Griffin, and may seek to capture her in order to attempt to learn of our whereabouts. Finally, Falignus may seek our destruction and we may need the power of the Wand to escape him," Safreon explained.
Hemlock was silent, but her arms were crossed and her expression was downcast and troubled.
Safreon glanced at Gwineval and after a nod of affirmation from him, he proceeded toward the Obelisk.
Hemlock started after him, but was restrained by Gwineval. She looked at him with daggers in her eyes and shrugged off his grasp violently. But she did not make to follow Safreon.
Safreon stopped about twenty yards from the Obelisk and began tracing something in the sandy ground with a stick that he had located.
Hemlock heard a stirring from behind them. Turning around, she noted that Merit was beginning to move. She walked towards him while keeping an eye on Safreon, who appeared to be almost finished with whatever he was doing in the sand. Glancing at Merit, she noted that he appeared almost fully restored.
Gwineval approached and noted the condition of the mechanical Gnome. "The magic here has no doubt aided greatly in his recovery," he stated.
"Where am I?" asked Merit.
"We’re in the Witch Crags. We’re safe. You must remain quiet until I tell you it is all right. Do you understand?" asked Hemlock.
Merit nodded his assent.
Both Hemlock and Gwineval returned their attention to Safreon.
They could see that he stood within a circle drawn in the sand, which he had bordered with various shapes and glyphs. His arms were outstretched and his head bobbed slightly as if he were chanting or speaking rhythmically.
Soon energy began to crackle around him and bolts of lightning played between Safreon’s form and the sinister Obelisk. Strange sounds engulfed the hilltop then.
Hemlock covered her ears, for the sound was unpleasant. There was a tremendous pulsating roar which vibrated through her entire body. There was also a high pitched screeching sound which seemed to border on pure noise, yet within it, a strange pattern was detectable that was new and outside her experience.
Then the lightning began to subside and the sounds were diminished.
Hemlock looked toward Safreon with relief and she noted a darkness rising from behind the Obelisk. It was slow as it rose, seeming composed of a thousand dark insects trailing dark glows behind them.
Gwineval cried out in alarm then, for he had seen the darkness as well. They both cried out to Safreon, who apparently could not hear them over the still receding din of the magical spell that he had cast.
The darkness began to take on a form as it continued to rise. Two points of fell red light became visible within it. A great murmur began, rising in volume above the auditory remnants of Safreon’s spell. The murmur soon became a bestial growl, which was animalistic and hungry as it continued to gain in strength.
Hemlock began to scream and run toward Safreon. He had turned and seen the darkness. It could not have been more than thirty yards from him as it continued to rise from an aperture in the earth.
Safreon began to run toward the edge of the hilltop and met Hemlock who also turned to run with him.
The dark form had risen well above the height of the Obelisk and dark wings had stretched out from a torso like blackness. The deep red glows had taken perch on the shadowy form as eyes of a most malevolent sort, casting a deathly tint across the hilltop. A great screech erupted from the now formed creature and with a terrible beat of its wings, it took roost upon the Obelisk, landing upon it with a great crash which sent Hemlock and Safreon sprawling to the turf as they reached Gwineval who had picked up Merit.
"QUICKLY! We have roused some spirit of the Obelisk!" Gwineval hissed at incredible volume.
Safreon and Hemlock both rose and followed Gwineval as he ran for the edge of the summit in the direction of the Tanna Varran town.