Seeds of Virtue, Dark Descent, Book I

CHAPTER 16

  As Druzeel slowly made his way down the street, getting further away from Piyus and his strangely wonderful home, he found himself at a loss. Piyus had been a huge opportunity for him to prove to the others that he wasn’t worthless, that he could actually contribute something substantial to the group. He had hoped to be returning to Brask and the others with the location of the assassin, with names and places of where they could capture him. Instead, he was returning just as he had left: with nothing. But it was not a complete loss. The archmage had now taken an interest in the assassin and the magic behind him. If Druzeel believed only half the tales Graeak had told him of his eccentric friend, Piyus would never stop searching for answers until he found them. Unfortunately, that could take longer than Druzeel and the others had, but he could always hope that Piyus would stumble upon something soon and contact him. It wasn’t much, but it was something. At least he could tell the others that he enlisted the help of a powerful archmage. That should impress them, but knowing Brask, Druzeel doubted it.

  The thought that he was probably in for another berating was a little troubling, but not nearly as troubling as watching Piyus fail. Piyus was a powerful practitioner of magic, an archmage with spells at his disposal that would amaze even the most accomplished of wizards, and he had failed to break through the assassin’s wards. If someone as powerful and strong in magic as Piyus the Magnificent could not locate the assassin, what chance did they have? And if they did find the man, how could they possibly capture someone with such power? Druzeel did not like Brask, but his exploits and success spoke to the man’s skills and those of his companions, but even they had their limits. Could they hope to triumph over someone that had swindled two archmages?

  Questions and concerns continued to grow in his mind as he made his way through the city. Was this assassin as powerful as he seemed or was it the one he worked for that really held the strength? Druzeel knew that the weakest of men could seem powerful with the right artifact or spell. He had seen firsthand the wonder and might a powerful wand can bring to a novice wizard’s hands. On his first day under Graeak’s tutelage, he had given him a wand that had spit out a rainbow of colors, colors that could freeze a man solid or dissolve a wall of stone. It was amazing to wield such a weapon, but it was clearly too powerful for a first year student. Graeak told him, told all his students in fact, that if they worked hard, studied and did as instructed, that one day they would eventually be able to use such magic, even without the wand. That promise was usually more than enough to light a fire under the up and coming wizards.

  Can we even hope to take this man down? Druzeel asked himself, referring to the assassin. Are they even strong enough to do it? He was the only magic user in the group, besides Jannda, but her magic was completely different and Druzeel couldn’t see the thief falling to a few songs or mystical music. Brask and the others were well equipped, but based on what he had seen of the assassin, just the few seconds that he had faced the man, he didn’t think it would be enough. They needed more.

  Druzeel looked up from his horse, never even realizing that he hadn’t been paying attention to the road in front of him. After taking a quick look around, he realized that he had no idea where he was. He had been so engrossed with his thoughts, that his horse, with no one to lead it, had gone wherever it pleased. It appeared his horse had just walked straight, moving deeper into the city.

  Though still busy, the crowds had noticeably thinned as night wore on. Druzeel looked to the sky, calculating that he had about an hour before his intended meeting with the others. He wasn’t looking forward to the meeting but at least he could tell them that he had attempted to find the thief and still had Piyus looking for him. He wanted to do more, to try to find another way to help with the quest, but Piyus had been his only option. Well, Druzeel suddenly thought, not the only option.

  He slowly motioned his horse to the side of the road and glanced around to make sure no one was watching. When he was alone, he took out the ring Graeak had given him and slipped it on his finger. He had not wanted to bother his mentor for he really wanted to show him that he could handle this on his own, but Graeak knew Pelartis better than he did and his mentor may know someone else that he could talk to before his meeting. Druzeel desperately wanted to have something else to give to his companions and he had run out of options.

  He turned the ring three times and waited until Graeak came into view. Usually it took a few moments for his mentor to appear so when nothing happened for the first few seconds, Druzeel thought nothing of it, but when another thirty seconds passed, the young wizard started to become a little worried. After an entire minute, it became clear that Graeak was not going to appear within the blue gemstone.

  A pang of fear coursed through Druzeel as he sat staring into the sapphire emptiness. Where was Graeak? Had something happened to him? Had something happened to Atlurul? Detrimental thoughts quickly coursed through Druzeel’s mind. He immediately saw his mentor’s body lying on his bed, his heart having finally failed. The image swirled and he pictured the assassin, having returned to tie up loose ends, ramming his dagger into his mentor over and over again, spilling his blood all over the tower’s floor. Druzeel tried to shut out those offal visions but couldn’t help himself. He didn’t usually see the bad when confronted with an unknown situation, but with Graeak, who was growing older every day and with the assassin eluding them at every turn, it was hard to think of anything else. Surely, I would know if he was dead, Druzeel said to himself.

  Confident that he would know if Graeak had passed, he closed his eyes and took a series of deep breaths. When his nerves calmed and the visions in his head cleared, he looked back at the ring. The ring is not absolute, he told himself. Graeak is an important person in Atlurul and there were many reasons why he would not be able to answer a call. Just to make himself feel better, Druzeel mentally counted ten reasons why his mentor may not answer his call, none of them involving death or pain.

  With his mind clear and the fear gone from his body, Druzeel took off the ring and tucked it away. He would try contacting Graeak again after he spoke with the others, only if they had not found anything that led to the assassin or another lead. If they had something to go on then, he would not have to worry about bothering his teacher.

  Druzeel looked to the sky then turned back to the road in front of him. He pictured Dex in his mind and cast a quick spell. In less than two seconds, he felt the magic pulling him further into the city. The light throb he felt in his mind told him that Dex was somewhere ahead of him, about a half hour away. As he neared the fighter, the pull and magical beat would get stronger until he found him. Hopefully, Jannda was still with him.

  It appeared the pair had gone somewhere close by. Druzeel was happy that he would meet them before the appointed time for it would be much easier to explain to them what he had found without Brask adding any comments. He just hoped Dex and Jannda didn’t hold any harsh feelings after his outburst. He felt bad by what he had said and realized Dex had just wanted to help. Personally, Druzeel just wanted to put it all behind him. They had more important things to worry about.

  With a quick kick, Druzeel motioned his horse back into the street and towards the two Knights. He had been so impatient to get back on the road that he almost ran over a pair of men walking by him.

  His horse bumped into them, throwing one man to the ground and the other grasping for his saddle. He managed to grab hold of Druzeel’s robes instead of the saddle, almost pulling the young wizard over. The horse quickly stopped and took a step back, taking the man with it, whose legs were now dangling a few inches from the ground.

  “Hey!” the man who was now clutching Druzeel’s robes shouted.

  “My apologies,” Druzeel blurted out, leaning over to catch the man. He grabbed his arm and gently helped lower him to the ground. “Are you all right?”

  “Watch where you’re going!” the man said, helping his friend from the ground. The two were dressed in simple blue
cloaks and dark gray clothing. Druzeel thought it an odd dress for this part of the city, but their clothing wasn’t his concern. He just worried that he had hurt them.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Are you hurt? Do you need me to–”

  “We don’t need anything,” the man on the right said, his voice full of annoyance. “Just watch it.”

  With that, the two walked off, dusting off their arms, leaving Druzeel in the street, watching them go. The young wizard only shook his head, trying to shake some sense into his mind. Pay attention, he told himself. You’ll get there. He urged his mount forward once again, this time a little more aware of where he was going.

  Because Druzeel was now concentrating on the road in front of him, he never saw the Pillars following him, or the two men that had bumped into him. He also never noticed that after the guards had passed the two men, one of them flipped a dagger into the air, a dagger that just moments ago had been sitting in one of the sheaths on Druzeel’s belt. The man caught it and smiled maliciously. Then he and his companion disappeared into the darkness of a nearby alley.