Akatika's Legacy Page 16

  In the end, most of them turned away from anything that would be called beneficial to society and left the university. They ultimately gave into their own ideas and transitioned into a lich. In exchange for more power, they gave their life essence to a demon or the like.

  The other strong argument was for vampirism. He hadn’t studied in in any degree, the idea was grotesque to him. Two mages had a vampire turn them so they could study the process. They were not fully dead and could not use much of the arcane arts after. Something about the state they were in blocked their ability to use the arcane powers. The prevailing theory was the reduced soul essence in their own bodies inhibited the ability to manipulate it. Once this was discovered they stopped the study looking for ways to regain their power.

  Siliras didn’t know where he stood on the matter anymore. In his youth, he was adamantly opposed to the idea of the undead but now he didn’t know. Somehow a lumberjack was alive when they should be very dead.

  He had helped one of the lumberjacks that were supposedly killed by a wolf get out of a coffin. The poor man didn’t know what had happened to him or how he got into the coffin. Only that he was sleeping, then awoke to searing pain in his throat. The next thing he knew was being helped out of the coffin.

  The man had been confused. He had answered a few questions and told him his name was James but couldn’t give any real information about what had happened. James told Siliras he needed to go and ran off, completely naked.

  There was something was affecting him in a very unusual, and as Siliras saw it, a very fortuitous way. It appeared to completely reverse what had happened to the man’s body. Other than the strange way the man ran off naked, it seemed like he had an opportunity.

  Siliras was a Kairos Kynigos, loosely translated it meant one who hunts the opportune moment. It was a discipline in the arcane community focused on the process of preventing death or at the very least slowing down aging. This seemed like something that warranted his investigation.

  There were only a few in that order that had made any notable contributions. The last had been several hundred years ago. If Siliras was able to find out what and how this happened to the young lumberjack, not only could he figuratively immortalize himself in the arcane community but literally as well. This warranted further exploration, he thought.

  Something was nagging him from the back of his mind. He could almost remember reading about something like this having happened before, when he was at Draíochta. The only parts he could remember reading were that it was from several hundred years ago and that no true immortality had been found. He knew there was something very important in the report he was not remembering.

  A knock came at the door, and his train of thought was lost. He had almost forgotten about the meeting with those girls looking for wolves. He disliked working for others, but this wasn’t too bad. They had given him a potential lead into some interesting research. So, with a flick of his wrist, the door came open and he turned to face the two young women.

  “We have something important we need to talk about.” Gabby started.

  “Indeed, we do. I have been unsuccessful in tracking the wolves. And I can’t find any trace of them magically.” Siliras said folding his arms in front of himself. “I will not accept full payment for a poorly done job so you may keep the coin you offered.”

  “That is very kind of you.” Ivy said and before she could say anything more, she was cut off.

  “I don’t care about the wolves anymore. I need you to track down Lafe.” Gabby said.

  “Who is Lafe?” Siliras inquired.

  “One of the lumberjacks who were killed. He has come back from the dead and visited me.” Gabby explained.

  “That simply couldn’t be.” Siliras lied, “The dead don’t come back. They’re dead.”

  “He came and talked with me last night. Then today we went and looked in the mausoleum and his coffin was broken open and he was gone. The burial cloth was in the corridor as well. What do you say to that?” Gabby asked.

  “Interesting.” Was what Siliras had to say about that. At least two of the lumberjacks had come back. This was remarkable, could more of them come back? If so, what was bringing them back?

  “Will you help us?” Ivy asked smoothing down the sides of her skirt.

  “Yes, I think I will. If you have some of Lafe’s hair or blood I can start as soon as tomorrow at locating him.” Siliras explained.

  “I can go back and get some from the burial clothes.” Gabby said.

  “As soon as you get that to me, I can craft a tracking spell.” Siliras said.

  “We can get it right now.” Gabby said, her words speeding out of her mouth.

  “We came from there; we can be back in an hour or so.” Ivy clarified.

  “I’ll be here waiting.” Siliras said as he showed the girls out.

  The meeting was short and to the point just how Siliras liked it. He had thought of dismissing the girls and investigating on his own, but they had known. So, if they could help why not enlist their aid.

  From his desk, Siliras produced the vial with the lumberjack’s blood. It was still tracking him although some of the blood was spreading out from the group. From the looks of it, he figured there were about ten maybe twelve hours left on the tracking spell. If the girls could get him some blood from the other lumberjack, he could at least find one of the two that had come back.

  Siliras took the opportunity to have some eat a midday meal while he waited for the girls to return. The Red Wave Inn had some surprisingly delicious lamb, he hoped that he would be able to get some. Once a week the innkeeper would slow roast a lamb on a spit behind the inn. It was stuffed with herbs from all over the realm and tied shut. They would continuously baste it was its own juices. Once finished they cut the meat from the bones and stuffed it in a flatbread with vegetables and a creamy sauce. It was the best meal of the week and drew a huge crowd.

  Siliras flagged down Mary Anna and ordered his meal. Mary was the nicest of the waitresses that worked at the inn. She was a short woman with dark brown hair and an accent that he thought sounded eastern, maybe Mud Lake, there were many from the small farming community serving tables in Gibron. He liked her, she never spit in the food or mug of any of the patrons, no matter how despicable they were.

  Shortly after he finished his Lamb the two girls returned. He couldn’t remember their names. One of them was Tabitha, he thought and the other was named after some plant, Rose maybe or was it, Daisey. It was a bad habit he had, he never paid attention to those that were below him.

  “Welcome back ladies. Let’s go to my workshop and talk in a quieter atmosphere.” Siliras said as they approached.

  The three of them walked behind the counter and down the stairs to the workshop. Once inside, Siliras produced a vial began to fill it with alcohol. He wanted to have this ready and be on his way as soon as possible.

  “We were able to get part of the bloody wrap for you.” Gabby said as she held out the cloth.

  “It’s dry, I hope that alright.” Ivy added.

  “It will be fine, fresh is better. But I guess that’s really not an option when it happened so long ago.” Siliras said taking the cloth from her.

  “How long will this take?” Gabby asked.

  “Not long, a few days, maybe sooner.” Siliras lied. “I can send word to the apothecary when it's ready if you like.”

  “That would be great.” Gabby said.

  “Address the message to me Ivy Faeryda. I’ll be able to get it to her quickly.” Ivy said.

  “I’ll begin at once. You two have a wonderful day.” Siliras said as she escorted the girls out of his workshop.

  Once the door shut Siliras began to concoct another location spell with the blood that the girls had provided him with. It was tempting to go out and look for the lumberjack while he waited but being in a hurry had cost him greatly in the past. He would consider it a great tragedy if the tracking spell wore off while he was in pursuit of
the lumberjack and had to return home. There really was no way to know how far away the person was until you were very close to them with this spell.

  A few more hours passed, and more blood separated from the large clumps in the first vial. But the second was looking to be ready. Maybe another hour and he would be able to start tracking this Lafe fellow. The anticipation was too much for Siliras and he started his preparations for a journey to find Lafe as he waited.

  Siliras’ bags were packed for what he anticipated would be an overnight journey. He ordered a plate of food for the road and once it arrived, he wrapped it in a cloth and placed it in his bag. He could summon basic food while on his journey, but the summoned food lacked flavor completely. Most things, even the blandest of crackers, had some flavor to them. It could be a hint of saltiness or taste of flour, even pure water had a taste summoned food, however, did not.

  The summoned food would keep you from starving but was only a chewy substance that looked like food. It could look like anything the mage could think of, but it would only be all the more depressing when eaten looking like some elaborate cake or meat. So, when Siliras was forced to summon the stuff he made it looked like porridge.

  As Siliras finished packing the vial was ready and the tracking spell could be completed. He took his time completing the spell, even though he was anxious to be on his way. Once the blood started clumping up and swung his pack on and left the inn.

  The spell led him to the wall the encompassed most of the town. Which led Siliras to let out a slew of curses. Why had he not thought about this? Now he had to walk to a gatehouse. He could have prepared by memorizing a levitation spell or a weightlessness spell and gone over the wall. The nearest gate was twenty minutes away and with the night coming soon he would have to stop and talk with the guards. Talking with the guards could be a daunting process, they were always looking for thieves leaving town, especially near nightfall.

  Once at the gatehouse it went as he had expected. He had to empty his bag and show that he was not leaving after some heist. He couldn’t help but think the guard inept for believing a person that had just robbed someone would proceed to stroll to the one place offering the most scrutiny to the general passersby. He suffered their interrogations and was permitted to leave.

  Darkness came quickly in the forest and the farther in he traveled the less light broke the canopy. Siliras produced a small amulet from his pack. It was a simple tin amulet; its only purpose was to hold a small shining stone. He estimated that true nightfall was still an hour off, but the darkness under the canopy felt like the middle of the night.

  The quiet was something that Siliras had not expected. Even at night animals could be heard. But the deeper into the forest he went the less he heard until it was only his own footfalls hitting the soft dirt and detritus of the forest floor that made any sound. He was normally not one to be spooked but the lack of noise was almost maddening. It was as if all the living creatures had left this place.

  Eventually, Siliras found his way onto a roughly cut path. It was large enough for a wagon to pass through. Examining it he could only find was what looked to be one set of shallow tracks and the slightest of furrows from the wheel of a wagon. He judged that the impromptu road had not been used for well over a few turnings. New growth was in the wheel rut and animal tracks and tiny branch starts were bursting from where the limbs had been cut to make room for the wagon.

  And after ten minutes of a mild jog, he fell flat on his face. He was thankful that the ground was soft, unfortunately, the stones and roots below the surface were not. Siliras rolled over and looked back to see what he had tripped over. A strange black log laid in the middle of the path he had found and with the light bouncing as he jogged, he estimated it to be a shadow he could walk on top of. He had been wrong.

  As he sat there, he took the opportunity to dig into his bag and eat the meal he had brought. As he took it out of the cloth wrap disappointment befell him. The small and once beautifully baked loaf of bread was now a flattened disk with cheese smashed into it. Searching a bit more in his bag he determined that the pheasant was lost somewhere in the bag or on the forest floor. He guessed the forest floor judging by the looks of the cheese and bread. With a resigned sigh, he rolled the flattened bread around the cheese and ate it. The pheasant had looked delicious when he packed it and would have improved his mood after the fall.

  Another two and a half hours of walking, carefully, down the path led him to an open field with some sort of large citadel in the middle of it. Siliras guessed this was the infamous cursed monastery of Gibron the locals told stories of. The stories he had been told did not match this place at all. This was no crumbling ruin but a towering citadel.

  Siliras held the vial up to his face and saw that indeed the tracking spell was pointing toward the structure. If it was truly cursed, he was not prepared for whatever lurked inside. With the prospect of sleeping out of doors and the long trek back he made up his mind to investigate and began to walk to the fortress.

  Chapter 18

  The gate to the fortress was open and by all appearances looked to have been broken recently. The grass was long and overgrown in the courtyard, but a clear path had been trampled down. Siliras noted a formattable tree stump in the middle of the courtyard and several small branches of the same dark wood were scattered about.

  Siliras approached the door to the fortress and tried to open it. The door held fast, though it looked to be about ready to fall apart. The gaps in the door revealed a few torches burning in the hall behind the door. He adjusted the angle slightly and could see part of a statue but nothing else.

  Siliras checked the tracking spell. The spell was still working and pointed into the fortress, or possibly behind it. He walked a few paces in each direction and the blood moved slightly opposite the direction he moved. His quarry was inside.

  Siliras needed no further confirmation that his target lay inside the formattable stone structure. His heart started to beat faster with the excitement of being near his goal. The next step was to try and get inside somehow.

  Siliras drew in the smallest bit of power and prepared a spell to use. Then knocked on the door. The sound of his strikes was amplified a dozen times louder than normal. He figured the best way to get in and talk was to knock and introduce himself.

  The blood in the vial moved back and forth quickly and abruptly stopped pointing to his right. Siliras was sure that his knocking had been heard with that much movement so quickly. But there was no reply to his knocking. So, he waited, and waited, and still no movement or answer.

  Maybe he should try to go in, Siliras thought. After all, he was a powerful mage and a rotting wooden door would not prevent him from entering if he wanted. It could end badly if there were others inside and took his entrance as hostile. He was confident in his powers, but an arrow can kill a mage as easily as a regular man. Well an unprepared mage anyway, and he had not thought to cast or memorize a shielding spell before he left on this journey.

  Siliras’s head slammed into the door with a loud crack. His mind swirled as the door splintered as he crashed through it. The world went black as something hard slammed into his head again.

  Ice cold water jolted Siliras awake. He tried to take a breath but found his mouth was gagged. His sinuses burned as he took a panicked snort of water in through his nose. He vainly tried to slap away the hands that held his head under the water, only to find his hands were bound at his side. Kicking was futile as well they also were tied together.

  Another panicked moment passed, and his head was jerked out of the water. Siliras tried to calm his frenzied thoughts once out of the water, but a few short breaths later his head was again dunked into the icy bath.

  “STMMMMMMM!” Siliras screamed into the gag as he was brought back out.

  The hands let Siliras go and he was allowed to fall to the floor this time. The water seemed to stick to him, and he tried to blink it from his eyes flutily. It was a cloth bag that clung t
o his face he realized as the smell mold gave it away.

  “Pull out the gag.” A feminine voice ordered.

  Someone complied and yanked the gag out, almost taking some of Siliras’s teeth with it.

  “Who are you and what are you doing here.” The voice demanded.

  Siliras coughed and gasped still trying to recover from the near drowning. After a moment he replied; “I’m Siliras, a mage looking for a man named Lafe who I tracked here.”

  “You have come to kill him?” The voice asked.

  “No, I came to talk with him. Two girls hired me to find him.” He explained.

  “Do they know you are here?” The woman asked.

  “No. No one does, I left without telling them or anyone where I was going. I wanted to find Lafe and talk with him before anyone knew about them.” Siliras replied.