Excerpt: Lifeblood: part III

Chapter 16: Seeking Counsel

Aidan sighed as he stared into a tall steel mirror, trying to button a trimmed, silk shirt that was stubbornly refusing to fit. “Do I really have to wear this?” he asked sheepishly, still facing the mirror. “I look ridiculous.”

“You look fine, Aidan,” Ellen replied with a giggle, which caused Aidan to whirl around and give her an annoyed glare. Ellen was wearing a bright purple dress, her long, brunette hair pulled back into a single braid as usual. Although blue was typically her favorite color, she had not been able to resist purchasing such a colorful fabric. “Really, you will be fine. Just stop worrying and finish getting ready.”

The two magi were standing in a large lobby on the second floor of the Crystal Palace, outside of the private chambers which Kormian Nu’Sancti had prepared for them after they arrived. It had been two weeks since they had arrived from Arnithalla, and with each additional day it had taken to arrange for an emergency council meeting, Joan and Queen Lillian had become more distressed. Ellen had become more concerned simply by watching her friend; she knew how hard it was for Joan to keep her grief buried inside of her during such a time of crisis. Now, the Council of Nine was finally ready to meet, and King Zureth and his aides had arrived that morning.

Ellen frowned thoughtfully as she stared into the mirror, adjusting her dress. “Why is it that Hazeek did not choose to join us for the Council meeting, Aidan?”

Aidan looked up from his shirt to study Ellen’s face in the mirror. “He said that the Crystal Palace made him feel uncomfortable, and that being so close to King Zureth reminded him of bad memories.” His eyebrows furrowed onto his forehead, and he added with a shrug, “Whatever that means. He is keeping an eye on the rest of the servants and Captain Torr while he waits for word from us.”

Joan walked into the room, a serious expression on her face. She wore a pearl white dress, and her blond hair was pulled back into a small braided ponytail beneath her silver tiara. Although Joan looked regal and her face was calm, her bright blue eyes were filled with concern. “It is imperative that the Council of Nine and King Zureth recognize the threat that is facing Arnithalla,” she commented aloud. “King Zureth and the Council have rarely agreed in previous diplomatic negotiations between our nations, but we must do everything we can to convince them to cooperate.”

“I am sure that everything will be alright, Joan,” Ellen replied with a nervous smile. She motioned for the others to follow and moved cautiously towards the stairs down to the entryway of the Crystal Palace, muttering quietly with an annoyed sigh, “I have such a difficult time walking gracefully in this dress.”

Joan’s serene face broke into a rare smile and she replied, “Don’t be silly, Ellen. You look wonderful.”

The princess led the other magi down the stairs and into the sunlit entryway. The sky was clear and blue, with no hint of clouds or rain visible in any direction. A good omen, perhaps, Ellen thought as she smiled briefly.

Queen Lillian met the party with a small bow of her head and a polite smile. She wore an elegant, shimmering dress made from jade and black silk. Although the fabric was most certainly purchased in Davore after arriving two weeks ago, the queen’s dress was cut in a modest fashion, typical of Arnithalla. Upon her head the queen wore the royal crown, a silver circlet adorned with rubies and emeralds. “It is customary in the Crystal Palace for guests to be escorted first into the meeting hall before the Council of Nine enters,” Lillian explained as she led the group down a long corridor and towards two large, wooden double doors at the opposite end. She offered another small smile to Ellen and Aidan, who appeared especially nervous. “Relax. The hardest part was simply convincing everyone to arrive for the meeting,” she commented dryly.

The queen led the way through the large double doors into the council meeting hall, and Ellen was momentarily dazzled by the elaborate design of the room. Much like the entryway to the Crystal Palace, the ceiling of the room was built from glass, allowing sunlight to gently flood the room. The room itself was mostly square in shape, with a large, round oak table at its center. The table was slightly elevated, with several steps leading up to the raised platform of marble on which it rested. A large chandelier hung delicately in the air above the table, further scattering the sparkling light as it entered the room through the ceiling. Large, colorful portraits were hung around the room, most likely representing council leaders of ages past.

Ellen counted and realized that there were only twelve seats present at the large conference table, although more seats were arranged in rows facing the table. Lillian observed Ellen’s confused look and explained, “Only members of the Council of Nine, and the royal families of Ashuth and Arnithalla, are allowed to sit at the conference table during diplomatic meetings between our nations. Unfortunately, it is also customarily a rule that only those seated at the table may participate in open discussion.” The queen offered an apologetic look, adding, “It is not my rule, but I am sorry, I cannot change it.”

“I understand,” Ellen replied with a sympathetic nod. Aidan frowned and glanced at the conference table as if to say that he did not, but after a pause, he shrugged and nodded in acquiescence. Ellen and Aidan took a seat in one of the front rows facing the conference table beside Loren and Ardek, both of whom appeared as conflicted as Aidan. Ellen watched as Queen Lillian and Joan proceeded to the conference table, placing their hands on two adjacent chairs but standing as they watched the entrance to the room.

As the queen and princess moved to stand behind chairs at the round conference table, the large double doors opened once again, and Ellen blinked in surprise as she studied the dark-skinned man who entered. Zureth Marin, king of Ashuth, was incredibly large. He easily stood at least a head’s length taller than any other man in the room, and he looked down his wide-bridged nose directly at Queen Lillian. Zureth was also quite wide, although she suspected most of his weight was from muscle. His body frame nearly took up the entire doorway, and she felt the floor vibrate as he took heavy steps past her chair and up to the raised platform. Zureth placed his large, tan hands on the back of a chair on the opposite side of the round table, studying the queen and princess with his dark brown eyes.

The conference doors opened once again, and Ellen twisted in her seat to observe the magi who entered the room. Kormian Nu’Sancti, the seer whom Aidan had told her about, led the final procession into the room. He wore a forest green robe, made of a fine silk with golden leaves and patterns embroidered around the sleeves and base of the garment. His face appeared stoic, although Ellen thought she detected a hint of a frown on his lips.

Eight other magi entered slowly through the room behind him, whom Ellen assumed must be the other members of the Council of Nine. They were different than she had imagined they would be. A few members appeared much older than other magi she had seen before. One man had light gray hair, so light that it was more like silver; Ellen could not even guess how old he must be, given that the signs of aging did not appear in magi until much later than in normal men. He very well could have been more than two centuries old. Several others of the members appeared very young, perhaps even as young as herself or Aidan. A few of the council members, Ellen was pleased to observe, were women. All of the council members wore robes similar to Kormian’s, made of flowing silks with simple but elegant embroidery.

As the Council of Nine moved to stand behind the vacant seats at the table, one of the women held up her hand to call for silence in the room. She looked like she was perhaps a little older than the queen, with flecks of gray intermingled with the dark brown hair which rested gently on her shoulders. In reality, she could easily be twice the age of Queen Lillian, if not yet past her one-hundredth birthday. She wore a dark red robe, and an emerald was dangling from a silver chain in the middle of her forehead. As silence fell across the room, she began to speak in a clear, authoritative voice.

“We welcome with us today Queen Lillian VII, leader of Arnithalla, and her daughter, Princess Joan du’Lillian, heir apparent of Arnithalla.” The woman offered a brief smile and bowed her head politely, and the rest of the Council of Nine did the same. King Zureth, Ellen noticed curiously, made no movement at all—or if he did, it was so small that she had not noticed it. “We welcome with us today King Zureth Marin, ruler of Ashuth.” Again, the Council of Nine bowed their heads slightly in respect to their guest. Queen Lillian and Joan did as well, although Lillian’s eyes studied Zureth intently.

Another Council member, this time a younger, clean-shaven man with short cropped, black hair and blue eyes spoke to the room at large. “For what purpose does this Council meet today?”

Kormian cleared his throat and replied aloud, “At the personal request of Queen Lillian VII, the Council meets to discuss recent events in Arnithalla that may have grave consequences for us all.” There was an ominous silence as the seer paused, his dark brown eyes moving slowly to make contact with those of everyone else standing before the conference table. “Let the Council of Nine, the representatives from Arnithalla, and the representative of Ashuth speak cordially and peacefully.”

At these words, all of the leaders nodded briefly and moved to their seats. Kormian was first to break the silence, his voice heavy with concern. “Queen Lillian, two weeks ago you came to me here at the palace with disturbing news. Please repeat what you have seen and heard with as much detail as you can, so that those present may hear the full account of what has recently transpired in Arnithalla.”

Queen Lillian nodded and took a deep breath, folding her hands together and placing them on the table as she leaned forward. “The royal family of Arnithalla has been suspicious of Nikolai Vionne, the Archmagus of the arcane academy, for some time. We had some evidence that he may have been attempting to amass power, but until recently, we could not prove anything without a risk of disrupting the uneasy peace between the magi and the rest of the citizens. If we questioned Nikolai’s motives without evidence, he would have been furious, which may have created a disturbance in the city.

“However, about two months ago, Nikolai began exhibiting increasingly unusual behavior.” At this, the queen’s eyes flickered briefly over to Aidan, who sat in silence with a deep frown on his face. “He put the lives of several magi students at risk, including the lives of two magi here with us today, Aidan Paetreal and Ellen Remanne. We had no idea how far Nikolai had fallen, however, until a month ago.” The queen paused and wet her lips, her face growing more concerned. Several of the Council members looked concerned, or at least intrigued, including Kormian. King Zureth sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his face apathetic.

“Nikolai took Aidan with him to visit Kouv,” the queen explained, “a town on the northern side of the Gharis Mountains. He said that he had received reports of a disturbance there in the city, rumored to be caused by some artifact of dark magic. Nikolai told Aidan and the High Council at the Arnithalla academy that he believed this artifact may have been activated, and that it was their responsibility as magi to locate and suppress this ancient artifact.”

Zureth chuckled quietly under his breath, and Queen Lillian frowned at him. Kormian turned to the king of Ashuth and requested quietly, “King Ashuth, please refrain from inappropriate behavior during this Council session. This is hardly a laughing matter.”

Zureth said nothing, instead merely nodding at the seer. The queen arched an eyebrow and continued flatly, “We now know that this was, of course, an elaborate lie by the Archmagus—or, alternatively, that the Archmagus had no true knowledge of what indeed lay waiting for him in the Kouvian crypt.” Lillian took another deep breath; Ellen wondered if she may be attempting a magus meditation technique to control her emotions. “Nikolai and Aidan found a rare arcane artifact in the crypt, a bloodred orb with a powerful magical aura. When Aidan attempted to warn Nikolai, the Archmagus triggered the item’s power and…” The queen hesitated briefly, then finished in a low voice, “He unleashed a monster.”

King Zureth frowned, but said nothing. Several members of the Council of Nine exchanged confused looks, and Kormian asked quietly, “Please explain further, your Majesty.”

Queen Lillian’s head twitched and she gave the seer a look, as if she could not force herself to say the words. Kormian nodded again ever so slightly, and the queen exhaled forcefully. She continued in a hollow voice, “Nikolai unleashed the spirit of an evil necromancer, known only to us as Dreknar, who had been imprisoned in this artifact. Dreknar took over control of Nikolai’s body and, using his extraordinary power, returned to Arnithalla from across the Gharis Mountains. Dreknar infiltrated the castle with his powerful magic, slipped past our defenses, and killed Norman, my husband, king of Arnithalla.” Lillian’s voice broke as she said these words, and Ellen could not help but feel a wave of sorrow pass over her. She has faced so much, Ellen thought. She could hardly imagine how difficult this whole situation must be for the queen.

A heavy, oppressive silence fell over the council chambers. Although the members of the Council of Nine had all heard this terrible news from Kormian Nu’Sancti several weeks ago when the queen had requested an emergency council session, their faces were grim from hearing Lillian describe her personal plight before them. King Zureth, however, had not heard this news before the meeting. He sat motionless, his eyes attempting to bore into the queen’s, as if attempting to test the mettle of her character. Finally, Zureth broke the silence by asking, “What did you and the rest of the men with you today do next, your Majesty?”

“We fled Arnithalla by ship. There was nothing that I, the magi with me, or anyone else in the castle could do.” Queen Lillian’s voice sounded different now, mixed with anger rather than fear. “Before he fell to the possessed Archmagus, my husband ordered Joan and myself to come here. He believed that we would be safer across the Laurel Sea, and that we could call on assistance from our allies to defeat this threat.”

Zureth arched an eyebrow, surprise in his voice as he asked, “You fled without even attempting a counterattack? Surely, with the magi at your disposal and your superior knowledge of the land—and especially of the castle—you could have provided some kind of resistance for this magus?”

“Your Majesty,” Joan coolly interrupted as she leaned forward in her seat, “you are gravely underestimating the threat that Arnithalla faced in the form of this creature.” Although Joan had been quiet throughout the rest of the discussion, she now spoke passionately and determinedly. “Dreknar is no ordinary magus, and especially not when he has taken such full control of Archmagus Nikolai. He has more power than Nikolai ever did, but worse yet, he is evil and merciless.”

Zureth shifted briefly in his seat, but shook his head in defiance. “There have been numerous assassination attempts on my life while in Ashuth. Perhaps you do not know, but most rulers of my kingdom perish within only a few years of assuming the throne. I have personally killed more would-be assassins than I care to count, and my personal guards have defeated countless more. There have been some who are not magi, but many who were.”

Several members of the Council of Nine gasped quietly at this; others stared at Zureth with disdain, thinking his apparent apathy for the queen’s loss to be a sign of great disrespect. Queen Lillian and Joan opened their mouths to protest this, but Kormian lifted his hand and interjected simply, “Let there be order, your Majesties.” Before anyone else could comment further, Kormian turned his gaze to Ardek seated in the audience. “Master Yarl, you are a master of illusion magic, are you not? You may be of assistance to us.” He motioned for the magus to rise and move forward.

Ardek blinked and slowly stood from his seat, taking several steps closer to the platform. “How may I help you, Kormian Nu’Sancti?”

Kormian stood and moved to the edge of the raised platform. He pulled out a small dagger from his robe and gently pricked each of the fingertips on his right hand, extending it to the other magus. “I have seen terrible things since hearing this news of Nikolai,” Kormian explained. “I wish you to share the images I project to you with the others.”

Ardek took Kormian’s hand and closed his eyes. Ellen almost thought she heard a deep hum in the room as the two magi made contact, although she could not determine its source. Ardek removed a small ceremonial dagger from the belt at his waist and pricked his finger, a drop of blood falling slowly from his hand. As it made contact with the floor, Ardek’s eyes flashed open, a deep frown on his face. His left eye, on which his star-like tattoo of two intersecting black lines was centered, gave off a brilliant golden light. Ellen gasped as the room seemed to fade away, and although she knew that Master Yarl was creating an illusion, she was momentarily perplexed by this powerful magic.

Before her, Ellen still saw the figure of everyone whom she knew was seated in the room. The Council of Nine seemed impressed, but otherwise stoic; Queen Lillian and Joan, however, appeared to be in awe of the image before them. Ellen saw a clear, colorful image of the Gharis Mountains before her, whose snow-covered precipices jutted out high above the earth. They were above the mountain range, which stretched out for miles in all directions.

“What is this image of?” King Zureth asked, his gruff voice echoing in Ellen’s ears.

“These are the Gharis Mountains,” Kormian replied quietly, “near the town of Kouv. It is along this mountain range that the crypt of which Queen Lillian spoke was built.”

The image shifted, and Ellen’s stomach lurched as the mountains moved closer before her eyes. “This is where the crypt is—was—located.” Kormian’s voice was ominous as the image seemed to center on and move closer to a peculiar structure on the mountainside. Ellen realized with a sickening sensation in her stomach that the structure she had seen was actually a large unnatural hole, so large that it extended beyond her field of vision within the image. “Nikolai, possessed by the necromancer Dreknar, used a blast of magical power to rip through the side of the mountain, leaving nothing of the crypt intact save for a few fragments and caved-in rubble.”

Zureth stared at the image stoically, but Ellen could tell that his face had paled with worry. “Many magi are powerful,” Zureth commented hesitantly, “and this Dreknar is only one of them. This means nothing—”

“There is more,” Kormian interjected quietly, although his voice carried authority. The mountains slowly faded away beneath them, as if an invisible hand were lifting Ellen and pulling her straight upwards into the sky. The image twisted and turned, and Ellen felt herself soaring rapidly through the air towards the north. As they passed over the edge of the mountains, the image abruptly paused and the ground came flying towards them. As it did, Ellen thought she could make out the image of something odd beneath them on the ground. Her eyes widened with fear as she realized what she saw. “These are the remains of the town you know as Kouv,” Kormian stated quietly in a stony voice.

Kouv used to be surrounded by a large stone wall, a border which protected its inhabitants from wild threats or external attacks. There was no indication that it had ever existed, save for small piles of large, granite rubble scattered across the plains nearby. Most of the building were leveled or fallen apart; scorch marks from wild flames covered the surfaces of those which had not completely fallen. A hazy smoke still filled the sky above the ruins, and small, flickering flames were still visible throughout the area where the plains had caught fire. Ellen felt a wave of horror, and then righteous anger, pass over her as she saw bodies lying motionless on the ground in piles. A few lone survivors beneath them pulled the corpses into mass grave sites, their faces grief-stricken and weary.

King Zureth had nothing to say. He observed the entire scene in shocked silence, his eyebrows drawn down onto his forehead and his eyes narrowed into small, angry slits. Ellen turned and saw that Aidan’s face was devoid of emotion, but his eyes were filled with rage. Kormian’s voice pierced the blanket of silence which had fallen over the Council as they studied the remains of Kouv. “Dreknar, in full possession of Nikolai’s body and, presumably, his memories, came to this village shortly after blasting his way out of the mountain. He unleashed a terrible power on the city, easily destroying it with the magic at his disposal.”

After a long pause, King Zureth cleared his throat and said, “That is enough, Kormian. Please, Master Yarl, end this illusory image.”

With a nod from Kormian, Ardek blinked his eyes slowly and waved his right hand through the air. Again, a golden light shone from Ardek’s left eye, then faded as the image before them disappeared. Ellen blinked and turned her head, passing her gaze along the room. They were back in the council chambers, as if nothing had happened. Kormian Nu’Sancti was still standing at the edge of the raised platform at the center of the room, his outstretched hand still holding that of the illusion master. Bowing slightly to Kormian, Master Yarl folded his hands inside his robe and turned back to his chair beside Loren, slowly returning to his seat. Kormian did the same, saying nothing as he studied King Zureth and the rest of the leaders seated at the conference table.

“Do you all now believe the threat which Dreknar poses to the world?” Kormian asked simply.
This time, there was unanimous agreement among the members of the Council and the royal leaders of Ashuth and Arnithalla. “I believe you,” King Zureth replied quietly, arms folded across his chest as he studied Queen Lillian and Joan. He inclined his head briefly and added in a murmur, “My apologies, your Majesties, for doubting you.”

Queen Lillian shook her head, her face stoic. “There is no need for apologies, King Zureth.” She turned to Kormian and said concernedly, “I myself did not know the full extent of Dreknar’s power, although I had imagined it when I witnessed it for myself during the attack on Arnithalla. If he is to be stopped, it will require a powerful counterattack, coordinated by multiple forces.”

Kormian nodded, replying, “I agree, your Majesty. However, I am not an expert tactician. I have the ability to see things which others cannot, but I do not know the extent to which my powers will be useful to you.”

The queen’s lips twitched into a small frown and she replied, “Kormian, any assistance which you can offer is greatly appreciated.” Her gaze flickered between Zureth and her daughter, and she added, “I believe that there are several present whose knowledge of war tactics would greatly benefit us in this situation.”

It was King Zureth’s turn to frown, and he shook his head briefly. “From everything you have just informed me of this threat, this Dreknar, he appears to be a nigh unstoppable foe. How do you possibly intend to defeat him?”

“An alliance of our forces,” the queen suggested in reply. “Ashuth’s military has a reputation for being the strongest on this side of the Laurel Sea.” Nodding at Kormian, she continued, “The magi in Chesith are equally renowned for their prowess in combat. Combined with the magi at the arcane academy and those present today,” Queen Lillian’s eyes flickered over to meet Aidan’s, “I am confident in our ability to defeat Dreknar.”

The Council of Nine exchanged worried looks, but it was King Zureth who replied first. “It is true that the soldiers of Ashuth are second to none in combat,” he said angrily, “but I do not see how simple blades and horses will be effective against a demon who can destroy them with no more than a few drops of blood and a wave of his hand!”

Joan pursed her lips and commented, “You are correct, your Majesty: in a fair fight, Dreknar would overwhelm any non-magical attack force. That is why a strategy must be devised that will give us the element of surprise. If the Ashuth military could—”

“Why should Ashuth even feel obligated to participate in this alliance?” Zureth interrupted Joan, folding his arms across his chest. “We have everything to lose, and nothing to gain. Arnithalla is far on the opposite side of the Laurel Sea; we are safer here than in the lands of a madman.”

“Without your assistance, we will most certainly fail,” Queen Lillian replied sharply. “And if we should fail, who will remain to protect you from the focused onslaught of such a powerful enemy? Do not make the mistake of believing your nation isolated from Dreknar simply because it is on the opposite side of the sea.”

“Why should I believe you?” Zureth asked with a scoff. “Arnithalla and Ashuth have rarely been allies before. This could merely be an attempt to manipulate my country.”

Joan sighed in vexation, but the queen merely studied Zureth with a sharp gaze. “I understand that Arnithalla and Ashuth have not exactly maintained positive diplomatic negotiations in the past,” Lillian admitted slowly. “However, the threat facing us today extends beyond nation or borders. We are all placing ourselves at risk. We have before us today the opportunity to unite against this threat, or to resort to the bickering of the past. Which would you choose, your Majesty?”

Zureth sighed and frowned, reclining in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. After a long pause, he replied, “Even if the three nations present were to ally together and mount a counterattack, how would we defeat Dreknar? Surely he will expect nothing less from us.”

A man on the Council of Nine spoke up, the younger man who had begun the meeting. “It is also a possibility that we cannot rely heavily on the army of Arnithalla, or the arcane academy for that matter. If Dreknar has taken full control of the city, it is likely that he has already dealt with the army or the magi. Who is to say how much assistance we can count on once we arrive in the city?”

“There is still some hope for the soldiers and magi of Arnithalla,” Kormian commented. His eyes were clouded over as if he were staring at something far in the distance; after a pause, he blinked and turned to Queen Lillian. “I believe that several magi in the city, along with the help of the guards loyal to the throne, are resisting Dreknar’s rule.”

Zureth waved his hand in the air, shaking his head. “It will take several weeks to mobilize our forces, at best, and several more to cross the Laurel Sea. Everything could change by the time we return to Arnithalla to begin our attack. We cannot assume that those men will be able to support us once we arrive.”

“I have reason to believe otherwise,” Kormian replied simply, “although you make a valid point. Nothing is certain in regards to the way in which events shall come to pass.”

“If we wish to defeat Dreknar, we must take advantage of every weapon we have at our disposal,” Queen Lillian said. “I believe our best hope lies with Aidan Paetreal, the magus with the Universal Attunement.” Lillian turned to study Aidan, a small frown on her face. Ellen almost thought that the look on the queen’s face was one of pity, as if she were sorry that so much rested on Aidan’s shoulders. “A task force led by Aidan could cut through Dreknar’s defenses, allowing him to catch the necromancer off guard.”

Zureth blinked, doubt painted on his face as he turned to study Aidan. “You would place the lives of so many in the hands of one so inexperienced?” he asked. “One magus cannot hope to defeat this man!”

“You know nothing about his potential,” Joan replied coolly. “He saved my life by protecting the ship from Dreknar. It is because of his power that we were able to escape Arnithalla with our lives.”

“If he is so powerful,” Zureth retorted, “why did he fail to stop Nikolai from unleashing such a monster on the world? Why did he not defeat Dreknar when he had the chance, before the necromancer could kill the king?”

Joan stood from her chair, shaking the large oaken table as she slammed her palms on its surface. “That is uncalled for!” she said angrily. “Aidan had no idea what Nikolai intended on doing! How could he have known?”

In an instant, the chambers were filled with arguing and indignant yelling. What had begun as a diplomatic discussion deteriorated into a shouting match. Queen Lillian yelled at Joan to calm down, while Zureth and Joan continued to vehemently argue about whose fault it was that they were faced with this situation. The Council of Nine were furious at this breach in protocol, some of its members arguing with Joan and Zureth while the others bickered among themselves.

Ellen sighed heavily, shaking her head in contempt at King Zureth’s behavior. Surprisingly, she noted, Kormian Nu’Sancti was the only man at the table not participating in the arguing. He simply sat in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, sighing to himself.

Ellen turned to Aidan to ask if there were anything he could do, but she blinked in surprise when she realized that he was standing from his seat, staring concernedly at something above them. “Aidan, what are you doing?” she whispered loudly.

Aidan pointed to the ceiling, and her eyes followed his finger to the glass ceiling above the conference room. At first, she tilted her head and frowned in confusion. Although she had not realized it before, the sunny sky had filled with ominous black clouds. “Those were not there several minutes ago,” Aidan commented. “They’re forming at an unnatural speed, and they seem to be centered on the Crystal Palace.” His voice was filled with concern as he turned to face Ellen.

Ellen frowned again in confusion, but she blinked in sudden realization. A chill passed up her spine, and she nearly leaped from her seat. Magic, she thought to herself. Someone is using powerful magic to alter the weather. “Joan!” she cried out over the arguing at the conference table, pointing to the ceiling. “Joan, something is wrong!”

The woman on the Council of Nine who had initiated the meeting heard Ellen and turned to study her sharply. “Members of the audience are not permitted to participate in this discussion without being spoken to. We must resolve this conflict ourselves.”

Aidan ignored her and pointed to the ceiling, shouting angrily, “Forget your bloody arguing and look!”

The commotion slowly died down as several members of the Council of Nine stopped to stare at Aidan, and then at the ceiling. A silence fell over the room as they watched the rolling storm clouds through the glass ceiling. Suddenly, the clouds began to swirl, as if a powerful wind was spinning the clouds into a funnel. Aidan’s eyes narrowed and he spun to face Queen Lillian. “Protect the queen and Joan!” he shouted as a loud rumble filled the chamber, and he began to move towards the conference table.

There was a crashing boom of thunder and the sound of shattering glass. Ellen screamed and ducked under her chair, blinking in surprise as Loren crouched over her to protect her from shards of glass. The ceiling splintered above them. The rumble turned into a deafening roar, and a powerful burst of cold air blew into the chamber. Ellen looked and cried out as she watched Aidan trip and fall, blown over by the force of the unnatural wind.

The room descended into chaos. The wind grew even stronger, and although Ellen hugged onto Loren’s sturdy legs with all of her might, she feared that the arcane force would blow her away. The dark room was lit by a crack of lightning as a bolt of white light struck into the wall nearby, scorching the wall with energy. Several Council members pulled out daggers and attempted to scribe the runes needed to summon protective shields, but two more bolts of lightning struck down from the sky at them; one did not move in time and screamed as he was struck, falling unconscious—or worse—to the floor.

Queen Lillian screamed in surprise as a concentrated blast of air raced through the chamber and physically lifted her off the ground, her body suspended in midair above the conference table by invisible cords of air. Her wild eyes made contact with Joan’s, and the princess screamed out in panic. “Mother!” she shouted, trying to stand from the corner of the room but unable to free herself from a pile of debris which had fallen on her legs. Joan stretched out a hand as if to grab her mother out of the air. “No!”

The queen shouted out once more, and her wail turned into a cry of pain as a blast of lightning struck down at her from the black storm clouds gathered overhead. Ellen watched dumbstruck with horror as Lillian convulsed and struggled against her invisible bonds. It all happened so fast that Ellen could not believe what had just happened. After what felt like a lifetime, the lightning disappeared and the queen’s motionless form fell from the air. Just before she hit the ground, Ardek leaped forward and caught her, collapsing to the ground. A shrill, maniacal laughter echoed through the room, a woman’s laughter, but Ellen could not determine its source.

Before Ellen could even process what had happened, she realized with horror that a new cyclone of air was ripping at the debris in the corner where Joan was trapped. This time, however, Aidan was ready. With a defiant roar, he reached his right hand back and then threw it forward in a cutting motion; a loud rip echoed through the air, followed by a deafening silence, as the wind faded instantly. The laughter Ellen had heard turned into a shout of surprise as a dark form crashed down from the air, tumbling on the ground near the conference table.

Aidan struck out with a magical burst, creating a shockwave centered at the prone figure. The woman rolled aside and leapt onto the conference table, her face obscured by shadows and her long, flowing black hair. Ellen realized that she had complex, intricate runes lightly carved into her skin, surrounding every visible inch of her skin. She pulled her hands back and shoved them forward with a shout, and crackling energy sprang from her hands at Aidan. The young magus threw up his hands and conjured a reflective shield, sending the blast back at the mysterious attacker; she cried out in shock and dropped smoothly to one hand and her toes, stretching out like a snake on the table.

One of the Council members moved to grab her feet, but she spun with surprising agility and sent him sprawling with a quick kick to his jaw. Zureth leaped through the air with a shout and pinned her on the table, but she jabbed him in his throat and crawled out from beneath him. Aidan prepared another blast of energy but hesitated, unable to get a good view of her when she was so close to the king. In Aidan’s momentary delay, the assassin kicked Zureth off the table and rolled sideways onto the floor with a hollow laugh. A thick fog rose up from the ground, enveloping the room in obscuring mist.

Ellen thought she heard new screams over the commotion, but she could not see anything through the heavy fog settling into the room. She shivered in fright as the dense fog seemed to coalesce around her, cutting her off from the other magi in the room. Loren knelt down and placed his hand on the floor, a complex symbol cut into his palm. The ground before Ellen shifted and lifted up into a makeshift, curved shield around Ellen. “Stay here,” Loren ordered her as he stood, running into the fog to stop the assassin from harming Joan or anyone else.

Ellen was paralyzed with fear, and her breath caught in her throat. She thought she heard that shrill laughter again, followed by a groan in pain. Suddenly, a figure broke through the fog near her and bumped into the hardened shield. Ellen peeked over the top of the shield and blinked; Aidan stared back at her, a mix of fear and rage on his face. “Where did she go?” he growled, whirling around. There were several cuts on his arms and legs, but they did not appear to be self-inflicted.

Aidan let out a roar and stretched out his right hand, aiming it at an angle towards the ground. There was a low hum as his hand glowed with power, and suddenly an explosive blast of energy pushed the fog aside. In an instant, the mist dispersed, revealing a horrifying scene before their eyes.

Loren and Ardek lay prone and nearly motionless on the ground, although Ellen could tell that they were both breathing. The long-haired assassin was grappling Joan, who desperately struggled against the woman. Aidan ran towards them with outstretched arms, summoning a blast of energy, but he was too late. With a flip of her wrist, the woman pulled a curved dagger out of her sleeve and stabbed it furiously into Joan’s gut, twisting it to penetrate deeper into her abdomen. Joan shrieked in pain, eyes filled with panic. For a brief moment, Ellen could make out the assassin’s face through her black hair: her green eyes were filled with a burning fire, her smooth skin broken into a horrifying, malicious smile. A crackle of energy shot from the woman’s hands into the blade, and Joan convulsed as the electricity passed through her. The princess collapsed to the floor in a motionless heap, the hilt of the dagger still sticking out of Joan’s stomach. The rest of the magi stared at the fallen princess in stunned disbelief, unwilling to comprehend what had happened, unable to stop the assassin.

Aidan unleashed his power and screamed, “No!” A golden blast of raw arcane power slammed into the woman’s chest and she flew across the room, crashing with a thud against the opposite wall. The air around Aidan crackled with energy as he called on his true potential, directing all of his energy into a focused blast aimed at the assassin. A second blast, even more powerful than the first, slammed into the woman as she stood by the wall; its force was so great that the walls creaked and cracked from the pressure. “No!” Aidan shouted again. He continued his onslaught, conjuring a writhing ball of flame in his hands. He threw the blast forward, enveloping the assassin in a cloud of living fire. She screamed, clawing at her face as the flames flickered along her skin and burned her hair.

As Aidan advanced on the woman to finish her off, she lifted her hand into the air and spoke something in a foreign tongue; the words wounded harsh and guttural. Suddenly a downpour of rain filled the room as water fell from the sky, through the shattered ceiling. Aidan’s flames dimmed and faded, but he continued to advance towards the woman. She stared at Aidan with a look of pure hatred. Most of her hair had burned off from Aidan’s spell; what remained of it was singed and uneven. Her porcelain face was marred with burns along her left cheek, forehead, and lips.

Aidan stopped several paces away from her and lifted his hand to summon one final blast of energy. As he did, the woman’s twisted lips curved into a cracked smile and she pointed a burned finger at Aidan. A clap of thunder sounded overhead and a bolt of lightning shot down from the sky at Aidan. At the last moment, he threw up his arms defensively and summoned a shield to protect himself from the magical onslaught. In his moment of distraction, the woman limped forward a step and raised her hands; a sudden gust of air lifted her from the ground, and she rode the wind through the cracked ceiling and falling rainstorm with one last maddening laugh. The wind pulled her up into the clouds, which began to move rapidly west away from the palace.

There was a deafening silence in the room, as everyone was too overwhelmed by what had just happened to speak. The rain died down and stopped altogether as the storm clouds overhead moved rapidly away; the chamber lit up as the sun appeared above the palace, no longer obscured by clouds. Loren and Ardek both stirred, groaning as they tried to pull themselves up to their hands and knees. Mistress Lilona ran over to the queen and cradled Lillian’s head in her hands, her freshly cut palm glowing with a white light as she assessed the queen’s condition.

Ellen’s eyes moved instinctively to rest on Joan’s fallen body, and she scrambled to her feet, sprinting towards her friend. Please let there still be time, she prayed to the gods as she fell to her knees by the princess’ head. She pulled out her dagger and quickly cut it into her right palm and down the length of each finger. Fresh, crimson blood trickled down Ellen’s wrist as she placed it on Joan’s forehead, closing her eyes and concentrating her mind. A soft, pale yellow light glowed from her own hands as she delved Joan’s body. For a long moment she searched for signs of life: a flutter of a heartbeat, a twitch of a muscle, a staggered breath, anything. But it was too late; Joan lay motionless, her eyes glazed over as they stared blankly at the blue sky overhead.

A low wail escaped from deep in Ellen’s throat, turning into a sorrowful moan as she hugged Joan’s head to her chest. Joan du’Lillian, the princess of Arnithalla and her best friend, was dead. Mistress Lilona let out a similar cry. “She is gone,” Lilona wept, “the queen is no more.” Her eyes fell on Joan’s body and she cried bitterly, “The royal line has ended! A thousand curses to the gods for such cruel and untimely deaths!”

The remaining members of the Council of Nine stared on in silence. King Zureth, a look of grief and horror on his face, bowed his head in mourning. Aidan stared at Joan’s body with guilt, his eyes filled with angry tears. Ellen saw nothing and heard nothing, save for the face of her friend resting in her bloody arms. The world faded away around her, and she became lost in her grief, overwhelmed by sorrow and pain.