Seeds of Virtue, Dark Descent, Book I

CHAPTER 3

  The next day, as the Lances were scouring The Fount, looking for explanations as to how the thief could have entered unaware, Graeak broke the news of what happened to his apprentices and servants. Thankfully, the only casualty was Vallia. Druzeel knew, with the skills the thief had displayed, it could have been much worse. The man could have killed every living soul that night. He could have crept through the tower, room by room, and slit everyone’s throat as they slept. The loss of one person in the tower was tragic and completely unacceptable, but it could have been a bloodbath. They had been fortunate indeed.

  Yet a small part of Druzeel wondered why he had not been a victim that night. He had been up, just as Vallia. Had the thief seen Druzeel sitting at the desk and just passed him by? Could he have not noticed him at all? Why was she dead and he left alive? Had she walked in on him? When she went upstairs, did she see the thief making his way up to Graeak’s personal chambers? Or had the thief seen her first, snuck up behind her and slit her throat? If that was the case, why had he left Druzeel alive? Druzeel had not heard a scream. Whatever the reason, the visions in his head of how Vallia could have died were disturbing and wondering why she had died was not making it any easier to forget the horrible sight of her body stuffed underneath the table. Seeing Graeak trying to comfort Vallia’s mother, whose face was slick with tears, did not help either. That sight only intensified Druzeel’s feelings of remorse and sorrow. He had not known Vallia very well, but he felt her loss just the same.

  As his mentor continued to offer support to Vallia’s friends and family, as Druzeel stood quietly watching the tears falling to the floor, he found himself getting angry. He found a small part of that anger–perhaps a little guilt as well–directed towards himself, for being alive while Vallia lay dead. He knew that the anger was misplaced, that he really had no reason to feel this way, but he could not help it. Just as Vallia, he had been awake. He had been up and walking through the tower, yet the thief passed him by. Luck was with him last night, but he wasn’t feeling very lucky now.

  The other part of that anger, the larger portion by far, was directed toward the thief. How could a man, a human being, if that was what the murderer had been, commit such a crime against such an innocent person? Druzeel knew murders were committed every day, that someone died almost every minute, somewhere around the world. He wasn’t naive enough to think that there were no bad people in the world, that evil did not exist. But seeing it happen firsthand had been a shock to him, had made it more real. The knowledge that such a heinous act had been committed just a few feet from him, that someone so gentle and kind was the victim, made him sick, angry, and want to scream. These things should not happen. People like Vallia should not be victims of evil.

  But what could he do? He was a wizard and had powerful spells at his fingertips, but as he found out last night, he had much more to learn. He was still inexperienced and did not possess the skills to combat someone with abilities as the thief he had encountered last night. With practice, years more of study and concentration, perhaps one day he would. But until that day, he could only hope that the Lances and his mentor could track down the murderer and bring him to justice.

  “Spend time with your families,” Graeak said, pulling Druzeel from his thoughts. Vallia’s mother was led away and taken somewhere in the tower, presumable her chambers. Graeak stood before his apprentices and servants, eyes full of sadness.

  “I make this vow before you now to hunt down the man who committed this crime and bring him before the magistrate of Atlurul,” Graeak said with passion. “He shall answer for the life he has stolen from us. Until that time, I want all of you to spend time with your loved ones and pray for Vallia and her family. You are all welcomed to stay here, if that is your wish. If you choose to leave, you are welcomed back at any time. Regardless of your decision, I shall all keep you updated on any progress made by the Lances or myself.”

  His eyes rose from the crowd toward the back of the room. Druzeel turned and saw Lance Captain Camruadd Delonshire standing in the doorway. He silently walked in and stood against the back wall, patiently waiting for Graeak to finish. The captain met Druzeel’s eyes and nodded.

  Over the years, Druzeel had seen Lance Captain Delonshire in the tower hundreds of times. He and Graeak were the best of friends and whenever calamity struck, be it in The Fount, the city, or somewhere else that affected Atlurul, the Lance Captain would always appear, asking and receiving guidance from Graeak. Druzeel had spoken with the man many times and the two quickly formed a friendship. It wasn’t soon after that friendship had begun that Druzeel found out that the Lance Captain had been present the night Druzeel’s parents were killed. Back then, he had only been a supreme lance, but over the years, had worked his way up the ranks. Now, he commanded a large portion of the city guard. Delonshire was a kind and gentle man and Druzeel knew he cared for him. Many of those feelings came from the fact that the man had been one of the guards that had found Druzeel on that fateful night, but Druzeel didn’t care why the man took a liking to him. It only mattered to him that he did.

  After Graeak finished his speech, he dismissed his students and servants. All the servants left the room, as did some of the first year apprentices, but many of the others walked up to Graeak, offering their spells and talents to help track down the murderer. The old wizard thanked them for their enthusiasm and assistance but said he wanted to leave the investigation to the Lances. Many disappointed faces left the room for they had wanted not to just track down a powerful thief, but to test their talents and prove themselves to their teacher. Druzeel wore a look of disappointment as well for he had hoped to help find the murderer as well, but he trusted his mentor’s judgment. He turned to go back to his chambers, but suddenly, he felt a presence in his mind.

  Meet me in my library in ten minutes, the voice said, the voice of his mentor.

  He turned and saw Graeak approaching Delonshire. His mentor offered him a quick glance and nod then engaged the Lance Captain in conversation. The two walked away, towards the stairs, to his private library.

  He wants me to be a part of the investigation? Druzeel asked himself in surprise. He had already told the Lances everything he knew so the only conclusion he could come to was that Graeak wanted his help, or at least his opinion, of the situation. The fact that Graeak would trust him with something like this filled Druzeel with gratitude and he soon found himself practically skipping up the stairs.

  But as he remembered why his mentor and the Lance Captain were meeting–the death of Vallia–the mirth disappeared from his steps and a feeling of sincerity fell over him. This is no time to be happy, he told himself as he ascended the stairs.

  He entered the room and found Graeak and Delonshire standing in the center of the room, looking down at the bloodstained carpet. Druzeel’s eyes immediately fell to the rug, to the place where he had seen Vallia’s body. The table was gone, moved somewhere else in the tower, and only an empty space remained. His steps toward the two men slowed and eventually stopped all together. He felt his eyes widening and his mind turn to the memory of last night.

  A gentle hand fell on his shoulder, startling him. He looked up into the eyes of his mentor, who wore a look of concern.

  “Are you all right?” Graeak asked. “I asked you here to listen to what the Lance Captain has to say because I feel you should be a part of this, but if you are feeling unwell...”

  “No,” Druzeel said, keeping his eyes on Graeak. “No. I’m fine. This has all just been a little...overwhelming.”

  “I know,” Graeak replied. “And I know you are tired. We all are. It has been a long day and you are handling this well. I ask for you to handle it just a little while longer, and then you may rest.”

  Druzeel nodded and Graeak led him over to a small table with three chairs. Delonshire walked over, gave Druzeel a strong handshake–the man’s grip was like steel!–and sat down.

  Lance Captain Camruadd Delonshire was a large man, with powerful
arms, strong shoulders, and large, blue eyes. His face was clean-shaven but his brown hair was long, sitting on the shiny steel plates that covered his shoulders. His armor, platemail that was etched with a blue lance, was thick so when he sat down in the small chair, it gave a great groan of protest, but held together. He looked a little uncomfortable but quickly wiped the discomfort from his face. If the chair broke, so be it. He had more important things to worry about.

  “Please, Captain,” Graeak said, starting the conversation, “tell us what you and your men have found.” Druzeel got the sense that Graeak already knew part of what the man was going to say, but he still listened intently.

  “I’m afraid very little,” Delonshire replied with a little anger. “No tracks or traces of passage. It as if the man was a ghost, slipping through the cracks and crevices of the tower.”

  “He was solid enough,” Druzeel found himself blurting out, remembering the dagger his magic had deflected and the purple blade coming toward him. He looked at Graeak as if he had made a mistake, but his mentor just nodded in approval.

  “Which adds to my puzzlement,” Delonshire replied. “Even the best of thieves leave some kind of residue, be it magical or otherwise. We have combed this tower and find no evidence that he was even here.”

  “He had plenty of magic at his disposal,” Druzeel said.

  “Indeed,” Graeak added. “I saw firsthand how he defeated wards, my wards, and escaped. As you know, my magic has been unable to locate how he broke in as well. Whoever he was working for had adequately supplied him with the necessary tools to counter some of my most powerful magics.”

  Druzeel knew he was lucky to escape last night’s encounter with his life, but upon hearing the surprise in his mentor’s voice as he spoke of the power the thief held, he realized just how lucky he had been.

  “You think he was working for someone?” Delonshire asked.

  “Oh yes,” Graeak replied. “Thieves rarely work alone and to acquire those artifacts I observed him using can take a lifetime of work, or a few moments if someone were to hand them to you.”

  “Any idea who he could be working for?” the Lance Captain asked.

  “The gods know I have made my share of enemies,” Graeak said and Druzeel found himself nodding in agreement. He had heard many tense arguments between his mentor and nobles, politicians, and other unsavory characters over the years. Any one of them could have sent the thief as a warning. “But I could not think of one who has the means, let alone the wealth, to send such a person into my home. That thief would have cost a king’s ransom.”

  “Perhaps his fee included a share of the spoils?” the Lance Captain asked.

  “I found little missing,” Graeak said. “That which he stole, a few minor rings and such, were not worth the coin it would have cost to purchase such a theft.”

  Druzeel looked at Graeak in surprise. It was more than just a few trinkets, he thought to himself. Why would his mentor not tell the Lances what was stolen? Someone unfamiliar with Graeak may have spoken up, but Druzeel knew better. If his mentor did not tell the Lances, let alone a good friend like Delonshire, about what was stolen, he must have had a good reason. A similar reason as to why he had not told Druzeel of the hidden treasure room?

  “Perhaps a warning then?” Delonshire suggested. “Maybe whoever did this wants you to know you are not as untouchable as you think.”

  “Possibly,” Graeak said, rubbing his chin. “I cannot fathom who or why but that is possible.”

  “What about Vallia?” Druzeel said. Graeak and Delonshire looked at him.

  “What about her?’ the Lance Captain asked.

  “Could she have been the target all along?” Druzeel replied. “I know how it sounds, a simple woman like her attracting such violence, but could she have been the target all along? Perhaps after she was killed, the thief was just looking for something to steal, to pad his pockets. Everyone knew she lived here and to break into the tower you would have to have magic at your disposal, which explains the power the thief was carrying. Could the thief have come here just for her?”

  Delonshire looked at Druzeel for many moments. He then turned his gaze to Graeak, who appeared just as confused. It was clear that neither man had thought of such a thing. Truthfully, Delonshire felt a little...amateurish and ashamed for not thinking of such a possibility. Vallia was just a simple servant but that did not mean she or her family did not have powerful enemies. You’re getting old, he told himself.

  “That is a distinct possibility,” Delonshire said after a short pause. Druzeel could not stop the grin from forming on his face.

  “I think my young apprentice has just added to your workload,” Graeak said.

  “Indeed,” Delonshire replied, “but an addition that could prove fruitful and bring a murderer to justice. I will spread the news to my men and have them start looking into Vallia’s history.”

  Delonshire rose from the table, followed by Graeak and Druzeel. The conversation had been shorter than Druzeel thought it would be, but then again, his mentor and Delonshire had spoken earlier, when the Lances first arrived.

  “If you remember anything else,” Delonshire said, shaking hands with Graeak, “please let my men know. I will leave a few of them in the tower tonight, just as a precaution.”

  “Thank you, my friend,” Graeak said.

  “I wish I could provide you with more trackers,” Delonshire added, “but even I have to approve the use of more men with the city leaders and a good size of our force has been sent to the east. The goblinkin have started showing themselves again.”

  “I hope it is nothing serious.”

  “Just a precaution,” Delonshire said. “You know how those monsters multiply. Regardless, if you need someone with tracking skills, there are plenty of adventurers in the city you can hire.”

  “I already have a few in mind,” Graeak replied. The two men nodded to each other. Delonshire then took Druzeel’s hand.

  “It was good to see you again,” he said. “And thank you for the suggestion.”

  “You’re welcome,” Druzeel said, hoping the Lances would pick up on the thief’s trail soon. If too much time passed, the trail would grow cold and Vallia’s murderer would get away. He didn’t want that to happen. The evil that had occurred here last night must be punished.

  After a hardy shake, Delonshire left the room, making his way downstairs to inform his men about the new prospects that Druzeel had suggested. Druzeel and Graeak watch him go.

  “You no doubt have questions,” Graeak said, turning to face his apprentice.

  “A few,” Druzeel replied. Indeed, questions were rolling around in his head. He was glad his mentor had said something because he did not think he would get any sleep if they went unanswered.

  “Then let us sit and discuss.”

  Graeak took a seat in the same chair while Druzeel sat down directly across from him. He held a little worry about the answers he hoped Graeak was going to give him, but they were answers that he needed to know.

  “Could you truly find nothing of the thief’s trail?” he asked, unnerved that someone as powerful as Graeak could be so easily blocked. There were dozens of spells that would show a wizard where someone had passed through. Many were simple to cast but others could be more complicated. The more difficult spells gave more information, but even the most powerful magic could be blocked if you had the right knowledge or tool.

  “I’m afraid that I could not,” Graeak said with a sigh. He was powerful, yes, but even he could have his spells blocked using rudimentary means.

  Druzeel studied his mentor, seeing the sorrow and distress in his eyes. He knew Graeak was old, living far longer than any normal man, but he had never looked even close to his actual age. At that moment, the man looked old. This whole ordeal–Vallia’s death, the break-in, the thief’s escape–had appeared to age the man greatly in just a few hours. Druzeel did not like what he saw and felt bad about the questions he was asking, but he needed t
o know. He had to know to be a better man, to be a better wizard, and to help his mentor–his friend–make things right.

  “Why didn’t you tell the Lance Captain about what was stolen? From the secret room?” He added in the last part because he wanted to know why Graeak would keep such a secret from him. He thought he might have pushed too hard, that the question was out of line, but he wondered why Graeak would share almost everything else with him and not that treasure trove of magical artifacts.

  “I know you realize,” Graeak said, meeting his apprentice’s eyes, “that there is evil in this world and that it takes many forms. Most of the items in that secret chamber contain evil too great and malicious for anyone, anyone, to know about, including even my most trusted associates. No one knew of that chamber, save but one: me. I have spent much of my life gathering those objects, many too dangerous to even attempt to destroy, to rid the world of such terrible evil. It was my hope that they would fade from memory and time, but it seems that even the most awful evil cannot stay hidden from everyone forever. I am just happy to know that because of your intervention, my young apprentice, many of those items still remain above us and not out in the world.”

  Druzeel looked down to hide his smile. It was good to know his mentor was not upset about following the thief and discovering his secret chamber.

  “As for why I did not tell Delonshire,” Graeak continued, “it is the same reason I have not told you or anyone else. It needs to stay secret. The less that know of its existence, the safer the world is. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Druzeel said truthfully, knowing his teacher was silently telling him to keep what he knew to himself. He also now understood why his mentor had kept the room a secret. It was not just to protect the tower’s denizens, but to protect the entire world. Nothing good can come from having items of evil in the hands of the wicked and deceitful. Druzeel knew that good would always prevail, but if those artifacts managed to get out, good would have a harder time keeping the world safe and secure.

  “I sense that you have more on your mind,” Graeak said, seeing the look on Druzeel’s face. “Speak freely, my young friend.”

  “You knew that the thief could have come just for Vallia, didn’t you?” Druzeel did not think that his mentor, one of the smartest men he knew, would not come up with that hypothesis. He knew he must have known of that possibility. The fact that Delonshire had not come up with that prospect was not surprising. He was a military man and the death of a simple servant would seem inconsequential when viewed against the larger picture. But Graeak had to have known.

  “I did,” Graeak responded with a nod of his head.

  “Then why make me voice the possibility?”

  “Two reasons,” Graeak said. “I wanted to see what conclusions you drew and I must say that you have done me proud. Your mind, a wizard’s mind, must constantly be moving, thinking of the improbable and impossible at all times. The second reason was because the suggestion would seem less suspicious coming from the one who actually witnessed the crime.”

  “Suspicious?” Druzeel asked in confusion.

  “I have known Camruadd for many years and he is suspicious by nature. If I had suggested the connection, he may think I was trying to guide him towards something, something I am not even sure exists. But coming from you, it seemed a bit more...innocent. Now he will concentrate fully on the task at hand, instead of having his men snoop around, watching to see if you or I act in any way that may not seem ordinary.”

  “Would he really do something like that?” Druzeel asked. He could not believe that Delonshire would suspect either himself or Graeak of something malicious.

  “Do not fault him or look ill upon the captain,” Graeak said, seeing Druzeel’s distress. “His suspicious nature is what makes him such an excellent soldier and an even greater captain. You and I both know that what little deception we played on our friend will only make him focus on his task with more intensity.”

  Druzeel thought about his mentor’s words and could see the logic. He just didn’t like deception of any kind. He thought a straight on approach was always the best way to handle every situation, but in this case, he would once again trust in his mentor’s knowledge and experience.

  “You and Delonshire mentioned trackers?’

  “Yes,” Graeak said, leaning forward. “Delonshire has provided all the help he can, so I plan to hire my own tracker now, to find the trail and bring the murderer to justice. But I need more than just a tracker. I need those who know how to fight for I do not believe this thief will come quietly. For that, I have picked a handful of adventurers to go on this journey. And I want you to go with them.”

  “What?” Druzeel asked, surprised.

  “You have learned much in this tower,” Graeak said with pride, “and you shall learn more in the years to come, but it is time you received some real experience. It is time for you to adventure forth, on this quest I have set for you, and see what the world holds.”

  Druzeel just stared at his mentor dumbstruck. Graeak wanted him to be on this quest? To seek out the assassin, the things he had stolen, and bring him back for judgment? Did Graeak believe he had progressed far enough? Did he think he had the necessary skills and talents to pull this off? More importantly, did Druzeel think he was ready? He had talent and wanted to do this, to show his mentor he was ready, but he had already failed once against the thief. How could he hope to succeed this time?

  “Master, I...” Druzeel started to say, but trailed off, unsure of what to say.

  “I know this is a lot to ask,” Graeak said, “but I truly believe you can do this. I know you can do this. As soon as you pick up the trail, you and the adventurers I choose shall find this thief and bring him back for judgment.”

  “Wait,” Druzeel said, trying his best to find his words. “You...you won’t be coming along?” He could not imagine going somewhere without his teacher. What if he did something wrong? What if he had questions? He knew he would eventually leave Graeak and set out on his own, he just did not think it would be this soon. He also wanted to go out on his own, but now that the opportunity presented itself, he found fear coursing through him.

  “No,” Graeak answered with a heavy sigh. “I’m afraid I have grown too old for a journey like this. This is an adventure for younger men, and one you could learn from. I shall stay here and offer guidance as best I can.”

  His voice sounded full of regret but Druzeel knew the truth of his words. Graeak’s mind may still be as sharp as a sword blade, but his body was aging and with that came the pain of deteriorating joints and weakening bones. Those aches and the weight of old age would prevent him from keeping up with the rest of the group.

  “You said others will be going,” Druzeel said. “What others?” Graeak offered another sigh.

  “The Knights of the Chipped Blade.”

  Druzeel looked at his mentor as if he was trying to place the name. Then his eyes widened and his brow furrowed in disgust. “Not Brask!”

  The Knights of the Chipped Blade was a group of six adventures well known throughout the area and often hired to do a variety of deeds, many of which some thought were unseemly. Though they always produced the desired results, they had little reservations on who hired them. The only thing that mattered was the coin they were paid. Depending on who you were, you either loved or hated them. Druzeel, knowing many of their deeds due to the gossip throughout the tower and the local taverns he sometimes visited, really had nothing against the group itself, for he hardly knew many if its members, but who he did have an issue with was the group’s leader, Brask Battlebeard.

  Brask was a man with little morals and ethics, if any. He was ruthless, cruel, and cared not for who he stepped on to accomplish his goals. Druzeel had only run into the man a couple times, but those meetings had not been pleasant. Brask had taken an immediate dislike to Druzeel and he was very vocal about it whenever the two met. This animosity had not come from anything Druzeel had done, but from what
had happened to Brask’s little brother.

  It seemed that between the two Battlebeard siblings, Brask had inherited all the strength and physicality from his father while Browen inherited an aptitude for magic from his mother. Much to the agony of the apprentices, Browen had been admitted to The Fount some years ago. Graeak had owed the elder Battlebeard a favor for something that Druzeel could not recall but the admittance of their youngest son had been the payment. Soon after his acceptance into the tower, the bulling had begun, and Browen had seemed to be a master at it. It was commonly whispered that if the young Battlebeard had half the magical talents as he had at administering torture, he would surpass Graeak within weeks. Luckily, his stay at The Fount had been short lived. He lasted only a year before he was expelled. He had pulled off a prank that had almost killed two students, Druzeel being one of them. For some reason, he had held Druzeel responsible for his expulsion, and told his big brother, who was just as cruel, all about it. Since then, Browen had left the city, sent somewhere to the south to train with another wizard, but Brask often found himself in Atlurul and every time he ran into Druzeel he made sure the young wizard felt his brother’s anger.

  “Please,” Druzeel implored. “Not Brask.”

  “I know how you feel about him,” Graeak said, trying to calm his apprentice’s worries, “but Brask employs Ristil Trueseeker and he is the best tracker in the city. I will need them for this journey. The Knights have performed for me in the past and I know they are up to this challenge.” Druzeel just growled in irritation.

  “Now,” the aging wizard said, signaling that the conversation was at an end, “get a few hours sleep. I want you rested and alert when you go to meet with Brask and his crew.”

  “What!” Druzeel exclaimed. “You want me to meet them?”

  “Absolutely,” Graeak said. “I have already contacted them and they know I am sending someone to give them the details of the mission. Who better than you, my apprentice, to let them know what they will be doing?”

  “Master, I don’t think–”

  “Imagine the look on Brask’s face,” Graeak said, cutting off Druzeel’s argument, “when he sees that it is you that I am putting in charge.”

  Druzeel’s words caught in his throat. It took a moment for his mentor’s words to sink in, but when they did, a wide smile came to Druzeel’s face. Graeak offered a smile of his own and nodded his head.

  “Tonight,” Graeak said. “Go get some rest. You’ll need it.”

  Druzeel stood, gave Graeak a bow, and raced off to bed. He found himself now looking forward to his meeting with the eldest Battlebeard.