One Who Masters Magic: Ch. 3

The Sei have been conquered, only the northernmost regions have yet to be occupied. We have already began implementing Unification among the captured soldiers and will implement it among the general population by the end of the month.

— journal entry by Angvardi General Saveron dated the day after the Battle of Fazei Crossing

Kubei
Angvardi Province of Kut
May 15

The governor frowned at the wailing coming from the man chained to the table. The high pitched shrieks were just enough to spoil his meal and cause his ears to ring a little. With a sigh, he pushed the plate of steaming pork and fresh potatoes mixed with lentils away and focused his attention back on the subject of his annoyance.

He was weary of this game and had far better things to do, but the Kuti were a stubborn people and had to do everything the hard way. He wasn't asking for much, just a single name and perhaps a location and all of this would end. This wretch was just the latest in a long, tiring string of clues along the path along the road that was necessary. The last one had barely lasted a day and suffered a mental breakdown that left her babbling senselessly. At least they had managed to use her ranting to find this man.

The governor stood up from his own small table and walked across the small room to where the naked man was chained across the interrogation table. The man was lying on his back with his arms and legs pulled back to below the table line thus arching his back painfully and making it hard for him to get a deep breath. He was covered in blood and sweat and stank, but the governor, despite his new station, was no stranger to foul odors and paid it no heed.

"There, there," he said with mock concern, "if you would only tell me what I need to know, it will all end here and now. There will be no more cutting, no more hot irons, and no more scourges, just the peaceful release of death. You will close your eyes here and wake up in the warm embrace of Mewela herself to rest for all of eternity."

The man spat a glob of bloody spittle at the governor's direction, but was no able to hit his target. The governor responded with a swift backhand across the man's face. "That," the governor said testily, "was not called for. At every turn, I have tried to make this easier for you, but all you do is fight me. You can't blame me for what has happened to you."

The man said something in his barbaric language. While he knew a little of his tongue, the governor didn't need a translation for the rest of it to sense the defiance and anger in those words. "I know you speak the Common Tongue," he admonished. "Tell me who the seer is or I will be forced to use more drastic methods."

"Do your worst, beast," the man retorted. "I will not betray one of my own."

There was genuine sadness in the governor's face when he responded. "Very well then, we will do this the hard way. Remember, I gave you a chance."

The torturers came back in, but they were just as assistants. The governor would now be the one taking over the interrogation with his own special touch. As a sorcerer, he would never quite be able to utilize the same amount of raw power that wizards could, but his skills were more in the arcane and were far broader than what wizards or mages normally worked with. Among those skills was the ability to manipulate a man's very lifeblood and inflict terrible pain all while keeping the victim alive. It wasn't a widely advertised skill due to the questionable moral ethics surrounding it, but the governor did not care what others thought.

His work lasted well into the night and the man's screams grew only louder with each passing hour. Between bouts of torture, while one of his mage assistants spent time healing the man with magic, the governor would prepare his next spells to further assault the man's will and wear it down. In one of those periods of healing, as the man was pleading for death, he had a brief moment of doubt about this course that caused him to recall the road that had led him to this dark dungeon at this even darker hour.

The governor had not always been a governor. He started out as the second son of a minor noble in Pedrella Province several hundred miles to the southeast of where he stood now. He spent his first few years in the town of Plabas, an unremarkable little cluster of houses were nothing exciting or dangerous happened. He would have grown up, been bequeathed a small amount of money from his father, and started his own farm or trading company and probably never left that quiet place had the Terulans not arrived.

It was a morning like any other when he was just six years old when his entire life had been destroyed. It was toward the end of the last great war with the Southerners and a large Terulan army had crossed the River Tuo from Castle Bluerock and burned their way northeast. His father had tried to get them out, but the Terulans had sent their cavalry out ahead to encircle the town so that none could escape.

All male adults were rounded up and slaughtered outright. The young, attractive women were handed out to the men and abused horribly. The rest of them, as long as they didn't fight back, were simply abandoned as the army moved on. Before the Terulans left, they burned almost the entire town leaving the survivors with nothing.

His father had been killed in front of him and his mother, when she tried to stop the soldiers, was sent to join him in death. His older sister, despite only being twelve, was rounded up with the young women and passed around to several men before having her throat slit. He was left alone with some neighbors who allowed him to tag along for a time.

After a few months of begging and sleeping in ditches while fleeing the Terulan advance, he found himself in Ravest, capital city of the Province of West Angvrada. He, along with countless other refugees, was taken in by an orphanage and stayed there until the spark of sorcery was discovered in him. From there, he began down the path to his true destiny as a sorcerer.

He had always fancied reading the old scrolls and books that the sorcerers kept. On occasion, he was even allowed to have access to some of the wizards' materials, but they typically guarded their secrets jealously. He was driven by a single hatred for those who destroyed his family to excel and lean all that he could. Because of that, and because he didn't seek the fleeting pleasures that the other young sorcerers used their status to enjoy, he grew strong and respected.

Three days before he took his final trials to become a full fledged sorcerer, he received the second most devastating news of his life: peace had been declared. Their empress, Celienna, had announced her impending marriage to the Terulan bastard King Rael, the man whose father ordered the invasion that slaughtered his family. There would be no vengeance, no retaliation, no retribution, and no satisfaction for him. From that terrible day that the Terulans had marched into Plabas until he received news of the peace, all that he had dreamed of was to grow up and one day kill as many Southerners as possible. As a sorcerer, his magic would have been devastating on the battlefield and many would have felt his wrath.

It was all gone now, all of it.

He was so broken that he failed his trials and was forced to wait another six months before attempting them again. In that time, he fell into depression and became a recluse spending all of his time in the library. He didn't speak to anyone unless queried on something and even then, he only responded with as few words as possible. Life had gone out of him and all he had left were books and scrolls.

One month before his second attempt at the trials, he was spending a long night in the darkest, most secluded section of the library when he came upon something that changed his life forever. He happened upon a small, dusty old leather bound book that bore the humble name of Prophecies of Drow Pon. There were many such books of minor prophets in the library, but he had never even heard of this one. In his apathetic state, he figured that reading this book would possibly help him fall to sleep so he picked it up and opened its cover.

Sunrise found him still engrossed in the words of Prophet Pon.

It was as though the prophet, an obscure man from Goteip six hundred years ago, was speaking directly to him. The book included not just prophecies, but also the prophet's interpretation and commentary on them. How these works had gone unnoticed for all these centuries was still a mystery to him, but they spoke of the Coming Darkness and the end of the world.

He stayed in the library with that book for two straight days. He didn't eat nor drink the entire time. He read the small book twice over before realizing what he needed to do. From that point forward, he had found a new destiny, one of far greater importance than mere vengeance against the Southerners.

He astonished his instructors and fellow students by excelling in his trials one month later. Once he was a member of the Sorcerer's Conclave, he was given more freedoms and access to new materials. He traveled a bit from library to library while searching for books of prophecy. He didn't bother looking in the places with all the "important" prophecies because people had already pondered upon those. Instead, he went to the back rooms, the cellars, and the forgotten places to look for works that had not been studied.
Despite his enlightenment, he still harbored hatred for the Terulans. He couldn't force himself to forgive Empress Celienna for betraying her people and making peace with the enemy. She would have to pay for the treachery. For now, he bided his time and began formulating a plan to get his revenge against both the Empress and her beloved husband.

While he did this, he also began working his way into politics and power. It took a lot of work, a lot of threats, and a good deal of manipulating to climb the ranks of Angvardi society. He had a knack for spotting important events and people and making the right decisions. Though his studies, he pinpointed places and individuals mentioned in prophecy as being important to these end times. It was only a matter of planning and doing before he could climb in power. His big break came when he foresaw the downfall of House Eszdra that controlled Dunhavo Province. He managed to maneuver himself into the good graces of those who would replace them and was able to skip several rungs on the ladder of power.

Still further manipulation and a healthy dose of spilled blood landed him a spot on the short list of those considered as the next governor of the Kuti territories. All it took was the unfortunate illness of one of the contenders and threatening the wife of another to position himself among the final two. He managed to convince the other man that were he to withdraw and recommend him for the spot, he would in turn secure him governorship of the Kingdom of the Sei, a far more prominent territory, but one that he had no interest in.

The Kuti lands were key in prophecy and he needed to be in charge to enact his plans. As governor of this sparse, impoverished province, he was unquestionably the least among the governors, but that was irrelevant. His power would come not in large armies or stockpiles of gold, but in being in the right place at the right time to take advantage of prophecy.

There were sacrifices that had to be made to ensure his ascendancy, but they were insignificant in the long run. What did it matter if he had to torture or kill a few hundred savages if it meant he was carrying out prophecy? After all, it had been foretold already, straight from the Tetrarchy themselves, so it had to be what they wanted. And who but the gods could determine what was right and what was wrong? If he was fulfilling and enabling prophecy, then clearly he was doing what was right. Only he had been shown the prophecies, only he had the information needed. The gods had saved those books for centuries just so he could find them. It was their will, nothing less.

The governor shook his head to clear it and bring himself back into the present. There was work to be done and he needed more information. The prophecies had spoken of a seer that would play a pivotal role in the life of the Master of Magic. He had discovered that that very One was to be here after the Kuti were conquered by foreigners from the East. This was that time and now he needed to know where the seer was. She would lead him to the One and once he knew who that man was, he would be able to influence things once more to his benefit.

It took two more hours, but the wretched man finally broke under the power of sorcery. With tears streaming out of the corners of his eyes, he uttered two names: that of a tribe and that of a woman. It took another thirty minutes before the governor was satisfied that the man was not lying. Before he killed the man, he had his scribes verify that such a tribe existed. Not only did it exist, but the woman's name was in his records as being in this very city. With a feeling of exhilaration at the newfound information, the governor thanked the man before slitting his throat.

He always kept his promises.


Fazei Crossing,
Angvardi Province of Sei
May 16

The morning after the battle, the captured men were all roused and fed breakfast. Syler was grateful to have a plate of sizzling bacon and warm bread after the previous day's ordeal. It almost felt like being at home even if his favorite eggs were replaced by thousands of strangely dressed Easterners who had just conquered his homeland and killed many of the people he had grown up knowing. By this point, the Angvardi did not seem to be as on guard around the Sei and even had short conversations with some of them. Clearly, since their conversions the previous night, they were no longer viewed as being hostiles that could revolt at any moment. They knew the value that men of the West placed on their words and trusted in their pledges to keep them in line—at least openly. In the last day, even Syler had to admit they were acting far more hospitably than he had expected a conquering army to.

After breakfast, Syler managed to catch a glimpse of those Sei who had not converted being led away in chains. The sight left him numb and feeling guilty for not having the courage they demonstrated in standing up for their faith. Who was he to be able to go free when they were in chains? He had sacrificed his honor and his word and would forever have to live with that fact. Those men had sacrificed their freedom, but could hold their head high with honor. Who was the more courageous: the one who sacrificed his freedom or the one who sacrificed his honor? He deeply regretted what he had to do, what Fate had brought him to and hoped that the Elements would understand. If they didn't, then there was nothing more he could do but accept his punishment. He had to care for his sister, all else was irrelevant.

Havert had said little to him since their argument. He stayed nearby, but didn't say much to him or anyone else. Instead, he mostly brewed in silence and, while Syler mostly focused inward, kept an eye out for what was going on around them. Syler feared that his decision to return to Karusa had cost him the respect of his friend. There was nothing he could do about it, though. His family came first.

Around lunchtime, they began to notice various groups of Sei and Angvardi marching in various directions. Most of them were to the south and east, but a few went in other directions. Syler and Havert found themselves in a group of about four hundred men all who were eagerly talking among themselves.

Havert was quickly caught up in the excitement and, despite his earlier quiet, began to mingle a little with the others to hear what rumors were floating around. He returned to Syler after half an hour and said casually, "Welp, it looks like they will be sendin' us home after all."

"And it's 'bout time," another Sei said, taking the need for Syler's response away from him. "I was wonderin' when they would get around to it."

Syler noticed the movement, but said nothing. Havert continued to talk with a few of the others but generally ignored his friend. At this point, Syler didn't much mind because he had began to become despondent over his choice. Seeing the men being carried away in chains really rattled him. The question of whether he had done the right thing was still raging within him.

It didn't take long for those gathered to figure out that all of the men in their group were from areas to the northwest where Sandrin was located. It made sense if the Angvardi were going to drop them off as a long train instead of sending out numerous smaller groups that could cause problems. It might take longer that way, but it would require more men to watch them all.

The men were excited about finally getting away from this entire mess and began debating what sort of changes their daily life would face under Eastern rule. In the past, their little villages and farming communities received almost no direct control from the crown. They were allowed to rule their affairs as long as they paid their taxes and offered men and supplies for the defense of the kingdom. Even when the crown got directly involved, it was almost always through a magistrate from See Sei, and that was a rare event indeed. The most important individual in their daily lives the elders who helped guide the village's collective efforts and mediate disputes.

Syler remained in self imposed seclusion and reflective even as their own group was organized and ordered to form ranks. A few of the Angvardi sappers began walking up and down the column handing out supplies for their journey. They were given a simple bedroll, a flint and tinderbox, a plate and cup, and about two days worth of food. Syler wasn't too surprised to note that all of it was Sei in origin, probably taken from the camps and redistributed among the men. They didn't have much food, so either the Angvardi incorrectly believed that Sandrin was within two day's march or they intended on keeping their new converts on a short leash by withholding food. Somehow, Syler doubted that it was the former.

Not long after they received their supplies, several Angvardi horsemen formed up around the Sei. One man, an officer by the looks of his golden pauldrons, began riding up and down their group. "I am Sergeant Jaclens," he said in his strange Eastern accent. "We are to depart from this camp and march to your homes. I expect this to be done in an orderly fashion. As men of the Way, it is our charge to conduct ourselves with the utmost honor and dignity when we face our duty."

There were ripples of excitement among the men as they heard this news. They were all eager to return to their families and continue on with their lives, even the Seinari who had been lifelong soldiers. Syler remained silent, merely content to watch the others and their captors. Though nobody but Havert knew it, he was returning only to his shame. He had violated his word and broken his oath. Even if he was now able to help Karusa, he would never be able to regain his honor properly. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make for her.

After forming up into standard marching ranks with Sei on the inside and Angvardi cavalry surrounding them, the entire group began marching. Their Angvardi led them east through the camp along a makeshift road that had been formed during the last day by the trampling of tens of thousands of feet. At first, nobody said anything and figured that the Angvardi simply wanted to get out of camp and were following some odd sort of rules. The unease along the column began to grow as they left camp and didn't swing back west to cross the river or north toward Sandrin. Their Angvardi escorts did not seem to want to make the turn, but were content in heading east away from where these men lived.

The unease turned into discontented murmurs as it became clear that their escorts had no intention on turning around. One rather brave man had the courage to call out, "We live to the west, why are we heading to the east? What treachery is this?"

At first, nobody answered him. Emboldened by his lead, more Sei began to call out and demand an answer. The Angvardi were now watching their charges carefully and had hands near their weapons as though they were expecting trouble. When nobody answered them, several of the Sei in the front stopped and demanded to know where they were being taken.
Sergeant Jaclens rode up to the front and finally addressed the Sei. "You are being taken to you new homes. The Way has stated that all must experience Unification, and that is what shall be done."

There were several outcries of anger from among the crowd. A few men shouted that they lived in the west and were perfectly happy with their homes. All of these cries were ignored by the Angvardi.

"The Way demands Unity and that Unity comes through following its directives," continued Jaclens. "You gave an oath to serve the Way and the Way has directed that you must follow the path of Unification. Unification directs that you shall make your homes in Kubei among the Kuti peoples so that your people's will become one and therefore Unified. Just as the Angvardi have mingled and become one with the Terulans, so must the Sei and the Kuti. Your lives were spared only for this purpose. If you resist in this, you will be killed."

The Sei were silent for several moments as the shock of that revelation swept over them. The various Kuti tribes that lived to the east of their kingdom had long been bitter enemies. They had been sending raiding parties into Sei lands for centuries and had killed countless thousands in their attacks. For their part, the Seinari had made many
retaliation incursions into their territories and burned villages by the dozens. The blood feud between the two peoples had gone on for as long as either side could remember and would not be cast aside lightly.

The thought of being taken from their homes and forced to live among their hated enemies was infuriating. After they recovered from the shock, cries of outrage began to erupt from the men. Some got so angry that the Angvardi drew weapons and prepared to strike them down. Seeing the drawn swords and lowered spears at the ready, most of the angry men resorted to glaring at their captors in hatred.

One man made a run for it. He had apparently waited for a gap in the perimeter and for the Angvardi's attention to be focused on the more vocally angry Sei before sprinting out of the column and toward freedom. The man was through the Angvardi net and was twenty yards away before they even noticed he was gone. He kept running to the cheers of several of his countrymen.

The Angvardi did not charge after him despite being on horses. Instead, one of them pulled his bow off of his back and nocked an arrow, then aimed. The escapee continued to run despite warnings from the rest of the men, but he was not able to escape the arrow once it was loosed. There were cries of outrage mixed with groans as the man's body tumbled to the ground with an arrow in his upper back.

"Enough!" shouted Jaclens as he pulled on the reigns of his horse to keep it under control in the excitement. "This man's death was needless. All of you swore to uphold the Way and the Way dictates we must all experience Unity. I myself took a Terulan wife and our people had been fighting for centuries untold. None of you have wives or children at home, so you must therefore take wives of another tribe and end your blood feud with them. You must now examine yourselves and decide whether you will stay true to your oaths or if you will abandon your honor. Any who attempt to escape Unification will be put to death as heretics and oath breakers!"

That silenced all of the outcries leaving only murmurings of discontent and anger. Nobody here wanted to break their word nor did they want to die. The Angvardi slowly began sheathing their swords as their charges began to calm down. None of the men were happy, but they realized that to resist now would be futile. The Angvardi were not only armed, but they had horses to run down anyone who escaped.

Syler paid little attention to what was going on. As soon as he heard what their fate was, he knew that the Elements had chosen to punish him for his broken oath. He would not get to take care of his sister and, based on what the sergeant had said, she would be given to a Kuti as a wife. He had broken his oath for because no matter what he had done, he would be taken away from her. For a brief moment, he considered trying to make a break for it, but that would only result in his own death. Being dead would do his sister no good now.
Wrapped up in his own grief and pain, he paid little attention as the men got back into ranks and continued their eastward march. His feet moved of their own accord acting upon hours of drills to where he didn't even need to guide them. His eyes stared into the back of the man in front of him without seeing. Havert, who was marching beside him, seemed to understand what his friend was going through and said nothing.

Miles passed and the sun rose and set, all without Syler noticing or caring. He was lost in his own world of misery and rejection. He had given control of his life to the Elements and now they had apparently decided that to take him away from his sister. It made no sense. He had always revered them and followed their leadings. Why would they lead him astray now?

At camp that night, Syler still had said nothing. He ate the food given to him in silence and didn't even notice that Havert was no longer with him. Instead, he was content to lie down on his bedroll and stare off at the stars. Havert came back later and set up his bedroll nearby. He whispered various rumors about their ultimate destination and what their futures would hold, but Syler didn't pay much attention. All of the rumors were just baseless worrying and Syler had no desire to comment on it.

"Are ya going to say anything?" Havert asked after several minutes.

"There isn't much to say," replied Syler.

"Ain't ya angry or somet'in? Many of  these men are."

Syler shook his head in the dim firelight. "There is no reason to be angry. What was done was done and being angry about it won't help me."

"You are too accepting of things." There was a tinge of reproach flavoring Havert's words. "What happened to wanting to help Karusa? Ya gave up yer honor to watch over her, but what now, eh? Should you just give that all up 'cause some Easterner decides to yank us away?"

Syler let out a long sigh and allowed his shoulders to sag. "We tried fighting and failed. That tells me that either the Elements have abandoned us, they are weaker than the Way's gods, or the Elements have another plan for us that includes our being conquered. Either way, what is done is done."

"Listen to yourself! Just this morning, you were eager to go back to make sure Karusa would be safe, now ya sound like a whipped dog. Don't you still want to help your sister?"

"Of course I do," Syler said with a tiny bit of annoyance at the suggestion that he didn't. His friend knew him better than to think he would just give up helping her. "I would give anything to help her, but getting myself killed isn't going to do either of us any good."

Havert snorted in derision at that idea. "Ya have given up. Why ain't you willing to fight?"

"What point is there in fighting right now?" asked Syler in a dull, defeated voice. It was a question he had been wrestling with for hours while on the march. He knew that there was little chance of escape while they were marching and didn't want to waste the effort in considering it. However, after they arrived wherever they were going, more opportunities presented themselves. The Angvardi couldn't keep watch on them all forever. Perhaps when that time came, he would reconsider his options, but at this moment, resistance was hopeless.

"What do ya think we were doin' just yesterday!" exclaimed Havert in a barely restrained whisper. He immediately looked around to see if anyone took notice. When he was satisfied nobody did, he continued in a lower tone, "We were fightin' these Easterner bastards with everything we had. Thousands of us died tryin' ta stop them from ruling over us. Now, ya want to just give up and pretend none of that happened?"

"Of course not," snapped Syler, "but fighting now is not going to help things. Our King surrendered, remember? The Kingdom of the Sei no longer exists so what would you be fighting for?"

"Our freedoms, the ability to go home and live how we want!" Havert shot back.

With a sigh of exasperation, Syler said, "We can never go home and live how things once were because they are not. Whether we like it or not, the war is over and we are under Angvardi control now."

"I will never bow to no Angvardi," Havert said defiantly.

"Then what did you do before their priests last night?"

Even in the darkness, Syler could see his friend's eyes narrowing and his face hardening. It took several long moments for him to respond and when he did, there was a coldness in his voice that Syler had never heard before. "I did what I had ta in order to survive and fight another day."

"And what exactly do you mean by 'fight another day?'" Syler asked suspiciously. For the first time, he started showing some interest in the conversation.

"Exactly what I said," Havert replied defiantly. "They may have won on the battlefield, but they haven't conquered us yet."

This alarmed him greatly. Syler might not have been paying much attention to things here, but he had been aware of some men grumbling about revenge and fighting on. "What are you getting into?"

"All I'm a sayin' is that not everyone is happy with this betrayal. Some of us don't intend on takin' it without a fight. It may not be now, but it will be soon."

"What are you going to do then? If our entire kingdom couldn't resist them, why do you think a few men on the way to a strange land can? It is pointless and you know it. You can fight them and likely get yourself killed or you can wait and see what the Elements will bring into your path."

"I don't follow the Elements anymore, Syler." Now there was definite reproach in the man's voice. "I took an oath, remember? Unlike some people, my word actually means something."
"Then how are you going to fight the Angvardi?"

Havert shrugged a little, "I haven't heard nothin' that says the Angvardi are the sole avatars of the Way."

This was very much unlike the man Syler knew. Havert had always been easy going and never held a grudge. He liked his freedoms, true, but Syler had never pictured him as vengeful or wanting to really fight. Havert had only joined the conscript company because he wanted adventure, not because he wanted to kill people. If he got involved in this, he was going to end up being forced to do some pretty hard things. Syler was no expert on fighting, but he reasoned that to fight an army that was occupying you, some very nasty things had to happen. This would be no honorable duel on an open field.

"You be careful then, Havert," he said at last. "I hope you don't get yourself into more trouble than you can handle."

With one final humph, Havert rolled over and said no more. Syler lay on his back and continued to look up at the stars even as he pondered what had happened to his friend. One of his traits that did remain intact was his eagerness to dive into whatever adventure or cause that caught his fancy. He always was quick to embrace some cause or ideal, even if it was typically something that allowed him to escape his chores and have fun. This trait had probably been what caused him to volunteer for the war.

Yet, this was an odd cause for him to embrace. Havert had never struck Syler as one who was prone to wrath, violence, or revenge. He was far more apt to simply shrug off offenses and continue on his way than to hold grudges. Now, he seemed eager to see fighting and to continue a war that was over. It wasn't the time for that and probably wouldn't be for many months or even years. Whatever happened yesterday during the battle had clearly changed the both of them, and Syler wasn't sure it was for the best for either.