A tall, muscled elf walked through the partially destroyed Trader’s Gate. A mithril helm of his ancestors framed his stern face. General Clalyn Glavien paused and watched his men search the lower city’s houses. A mixture of men, elves, and dwarf soldiers entered each house and pulled out any occupants. After questioning them, they were allowed to return inside and bar the door. His men were checking the civilian’s hands for calluses and confirmed they were not soldiers. They would be brought to the camp outside the walls if there was doubt. It was imperfect but much quicker than bringing in a Truthseeker for each suspect.
Macha City was going to be secured long before the Talhian Duke arrived. Clalyn’s mages were already fortifying the outer walls to welcome the Duke when he arrived with his army. He walked further into the city, smelling the faint odor of smoke and ozone laced heavily with the dampness. His three personal guards trailed behind him, alert for any threats. A human male soldier raced to the General, causing his guards to tense. He gave them a hand sign to relax as he knew the soldier, “General Glavien. The downed griffin is not far. If you follow me, I will bring you to it.”
His heart ached, and he ignored the sweat that had been sitting in his eyes and followed. The walk was short as promised, and he quickly came to the corpse of the griffin called Moonclaw by his sister. He knelt and petted the soft feathers along the neck of the beast as he had done a hundred times before when he visited his sister in the rookery for the griffins. Moonclaw had been the runt of the clutch but had grown into an impressive mount for his sister. He had been incredibly docile for his species, easily the friendliest griffin he had ever known.
The guards and soldier let him pet the flying mount and waited for him to grieve. His elven clan, the Glavien, had left the Elven Kingdom of Esenhem almost a thousand years ago. The Esenhem elves did not see the threat of the Telhians. His father did, and the Telhians were prejudiced against all non-human races. So his father migrated to the Bartiradian Kingdom, and his descendants have served in the military ever since, fighting the Telhians. For those with the Glavien name, it was considered a right of passage to fight the expansionist Telhians.
He objected to his younger sister joining the Skyriders. Raelia should have served as a minor mage or assisted at the war college. The front lines were not for her. But Raelia wanted to fly, follow her brother, and contribute to the Neverending War. She had amazing empathy and some small skill with magic; air, and fire being her strongest attributes. “Clalyn?” One of his guards, who had been inspecting the scene, broke his focus on petting the dead creature.
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64ce79d606107d003c23ea27", id: "pf-5140-1"})General Clalyn Glavien stood sternly, “Have they found her body yet?”
His guard, an old elf and friend named Alhar, shook his head no, “Her blood trial went into this ally and further up the street and just disappeared.”
“So there is still a chance?” The general let his voice crack slightly, liked his lips and swallowed.
Alhar gave an indecisive look, “The legionnaire we captured told us they were without a healing mage, and we cut off their access to resupply before more healing potions could be sent.” He inhaled, “The griffin clipped that building there,” he pointed. “And crashed hard into the street. The hard landing would have seriously wounded her. She carried some healing potions,” he offered hopefully.
Clalyn finished, “If they took her prisoner, they would have seized her potions, and then she probably would not last long and would be in serious pain based on the blood trail.”
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64cc9e79c7059f003e4ad4b0", id: "pf-5109-1"})One of the griffins scouting above landed not far away, and the rider dismounted and moved to the General, “The fog has cleared, and it is going to be a difficult path through the city with the barricades. No signs of your sister, but the remaining legionnaires are at the inner city wall.”
The General nodded sharply, “So there is only one mage remaining?”
“For the legion, yes. We have seven non-combatant mages from the civilians rounded up already,” Alhar answered next to him.
The griffin rider added, “The weather mages have inconvenienced the Duke, and we surprised them with how quickly we took the city. They should be able to slow the Duke’s army and give you at least two days to secure the city for its defense.”
The rider waited for an order. Clalyn nodded, still distracted, “After your mount is rested, pass word, keep an eye out for the remaining mage. That is our last true threat in the city. She managed to frustrate our contingent of spell-slingers during the assault.” He gave it a brief thought, “I prefer to see her captured for public execution, but if she endangers our mages, end her.”
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "663633fa8ebf7442f0652b33", id: "pf-8817-1"})The griffin rider nodded and returned to her mount. “Alhar, show me where the trail stopped.” Alhar nodded and led the General, trailed by the other two personal guards, to the small street.
“It was here,” the guard, who was a master tracker, said. “I searched the area, and not a trace of blood anywhere past this point. Mage Finnius has been summoned, General.”
Mage Finnius? The illusionist could replay whatever happened here. Did he really want to see his sister’s fate played out before him? He had lost two brothers to the Neverending War. He nodded slowly and waited for the mage. He began to inspect the likely place where his sister had been killed. He noticed squads of his soldiers protecting his position by stationing themselves at the intersections.
Mage Finnius arrived. He was a balding middle-aged human with a slight stutter, but he also had excellent illusionist skills and some clairvoyant affinity. When combined, he could replay scenes that happened in a particular area less than three days past. Alhar instructed him, “Set the area of your spell here to here.”
Finnius began his work of chaulking out the boundaries of the spell with the silvery chaulk. The larger the area, the more aether the mage would take to cast his spell of viewing the past. It was a good hour of setting up the containment area. When he finished, he addressed the General, “C-Clalyn. I have enough a-aether for about f-five minutes. I can adjust the s-speed and replay the image as you d-direct within that time.” The mage was sweating from his work and was still tired from the assault last night.
“Proceed,” Clalyn directed. The spell forms on the ground glowed in the blue aetheric light, and Finnius sped through the images till a flash of movement occurred. Clalyn had sorted the images even at high speed and already knew what had happened; his throat tightened, and his skin went cold. The mage rewound till the start of the action and played it at normal speed.
Raelia was fleeing down the street. Her leg was broken, and she was bleeding from a head wound and her mouth. She either had bitten her tongue or had internal bleeding. Alhar offered unhelpfully, “She must have bit her tongue on the landing.” A look silenced his friend as the General no longer needed his input. The fate of his sister was known to him.
Finnius slowed the play of the image and watched as a legionnaire entered the area and attempted to slash Raelia in the back. Raelia spun and defended herself masterfully. She had one of the best combat senses of any soldier he had ever seen and smiled. Raelia stood and began speaking to the legionnaire who had pursued her. Finnius’ magic did not give sound, just images. But Clalyn smiled, knowing the vehemence his sister would have yelled at the legionnaire. Even with her dying breath, she would oppose the Telhian Empire.
The images were clear and life-like, “Freeze it, mage!” Clalyn ordered. He moved into the spell’s area, carefully stepping over the silver chalk lines, and studied his sister’s face, frozen in time. Rage on her face directed at the legionnaire and probably from losing Moonclaw. She loved that griffin more than anything else in this world. She had been reckless as the fog cleared was cleared by the enemy mages. Griffin riders were never to engage the enemy, only scout and deliver messages when magic sending was not available. She had flown too low to the Gate Tower to give reconnaissance against orders or maybe to attack. Foolish Raelia, always trying to prove herself. He studied her face—remembering every detail as it was probably the last time he would have the chance.
“Play it slowly,” he ordered, and the illusion moved in front of him. Raelia was fighting the pain and cupped her hands to create a spell form for a fireball. Clalyn smiled, remembering how proud she had been when she cast that spell for the first time. And then she was gone. He spun on the mage about to ask him to rewind the spell, but the legionnaire was still there with a pained look on his face. Finnius paused the spell again so the General could study the image of his sister’s executioner.
He stepped in front of the legionnaire, a tall human with sweaty black hair peeking out of his steel legion helm. He had brown eyes, a square jawline, and a look of disbelief on his face. “Rewind and replay again, mage,” he ordered Finnius.
The mage obeyed, and Clalyn studied the legionnaire as his sister repeatedly disappeared behind him. Replaying the actions of the killer in front of him. Finally, the spell expired, Finnius exhausted of aether. He turned to Alhar and his other two personal guards, “We have a very dangerous enemy. A Legion soldier with a spell form from the void magic affinity.” His voice was hard. Void magic had erased his sister from existence, and he would have his vengeance.
Alhar understood as he had also watched the legionnaire not create a true spell to vanish Raelia. He turned and announced to the dozen captains around the General, “His range should be limited, so when your men find him, do not get within twenty feet.” The other two bodyguards nodded as did the captains of the other units nearby. Alhar asked the General, “Do you want me to handle this?”
Clalyn considered the request. Alhar had been a Ranger, assassin, and scout for nearly three hundred years. He could have commanded his own forces, but instead chose to serve and protect the son of Alliston Glavien, Clalyn’s father. Alhar could be sent and seek vengeance for Raelia. Alhar had also trained Raelia and been like a father figure to her. He assumed the stern Alhar was probably eager to do just that.
“No, I want to see the look in his eyes when he joins my sister in oblivion.” He murmured.
