Final Destination

Day in day out, a journey ends and another begins. Each ship that sets sail from the arena has a part of call. Through tall waves they sail on and on. What will those daring sailors find on their voyage? There are rumours of strange creatures on the horizon. One only has to look close enough and they can see the tail of a sea serpent or hear the tantalising voice of the sea women, calling sailors to their watery deaths. Or what of the weather. That great power, King of the land and sea. He blows and he thunders and he screams white. Throwing his anger and distress at those tiny little wooden vessels he tries to toss them, drown them, so he can collect them and add to his collection under the sea.

Or what of those avid adventurers? On foot they travel from town to town, from cave to cave, from library to library. Seeking knowledge, power and excitement. They join with the Mistress of time herself and both form a coupling, a brief love affair where the secrets of the past unravel to give the glory, sadness and joy of times dead and buried.

Some journey to reach that long missed shore. Where the startling endless blue sky combines with the green traquille sea in an indistinct line. Where the cliff looms over the water like a plate soon to fall over. Children jump and squeal in unrestrained delight at the weightless feeling of the jump then the cold quiet of the sea engulfs them before they emerge laughing and screaming for more.

Even the old journey. A walk to that favourite part of ht garden where the blossoms bloom on the trees in the spring like silk ruffles. Where the birds sine their unending song of the world and its beauty. Where they can remember being young and dancing in the soft grass they now shuffle through.

For some not all journeys are so happy, so nostalgic, so free. For some who trek into dangerous lands, uninvited and ignorant to its people, their journey can become a nightmare. Every day they travel on and everyday that yearning for home grows until it is their one desire. They turn back and point their feet for home, If they can make back is another thing entirely.

The sound of the cart clanking to a stop woke Dannyl form his restless sleep. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and shook the last remnants of his nightmare away. He had dreamed that he had been travelling through the Sachakan waste lands lost and alone. But the constant figure of their kidnapper had appeared. He held a knife and grinned maliciously. Suddenly Tayend had appeared. The Sachakan had grabbed for him and, in a tight embrace, he held a curved knife to Tayend's throat. Dannyl had been so afraid, afraid for Tayend, afraid of what the Sachakan would do to Tayend and afraid of what he might do to him. Every part of his body cried out of him to move but he could not. It was as if the dust at his feet had glued him to the spot. He had watched helplessly as the Sachakan slid the knife across Tayend's neck. The last thing Dannyl saw before he woke was the look of utter terror in the scholars face, in his lovers face.

Voices outside drew Dannyl's attention away from his grim thoughts. He recognised the voice of their captor, speaking in Sachakan. Another voice replied, deep and unfamiliar. The spoke briefly the he heard a heavy tread moving away. The unknown speaker?

All was silent before the canvas over the opening of the cart was ripped aside. The magicians in the cart groaned as the Sachakan shouted, all pulled out of their exhausted sleep. They had walked for days before they had stolen the cart at a small village, deep in the wastelands. It was like a small oasis. The endless physical exertion combined with the fear and anxiety that had spread through the group like a poison when they heard Sonea had been killed had taken its toll. They were now hopeless, lost and at the mercy of the Sachakan Black Magician.

A Black Magician that was at this moment ordering them out of the cart for no doubt another gruelling march.

It would have been fine had we been able to Heal ourselves. But the Sachakan had taken the power they had regained each day rendering them useless and powerless to even attempt to fight back.

One by one the magicians wearily climbed out of the cart. Dannyl was the last one out and looked around curiously. They were in a small courtyard. There were patted plants against three walls creating an almost tropical setting. Directly in front of them there was an archway leading into unknown darkness.

"I don't much fancy walking in the dark with a Black Magician Ambassador Dannyl. Especially a Sachakan Black Magician."

Danny turned and regarded Makin in surprise. Ever since they had received Sonea's mental communication and through it experienced her death, the young magician had been pale and quiet. Every time Dannyl had tried to speak with his he had been met with stony silence.

Of course Dannyl understood. Makin was close friends with Lorkin and Lorena, Sonea's children. Overtime Makin had begun to regard Sonea as a second mother. Her high regard for his father had ensured that he was always welcome at her table.

Dannyl smiled grimly, "Neither do I but it seems our esteemed guide has decided that we will."

Makin frowned at the Sachakan's back as he stalked through the arch and into the darkness. Slowly shaking his head he followed.

As Dannyl stepped into the sticky blackness he had to rely on his senses to stay in walk in the right direction. The Sachakan's footsteps were far ahead but still distinguishable among the curses, grunts and exclamations of the other magicians fumbling in the dark. It was some time before Dannyl noticed that he could see the faces of the other magicians. There was a light ahead. Strong and yellow. If Dannyl had been in any other place than Sachaka he would have hurried towards that light. It emitted safety and care. But he was in Sachaka, there was nowhere safe for magicians in Sachaka.

Eventually they reached a large entrance hall but it was unlike any entrance hall Dannyl had ever seen. Cushioned benched lined the walls of the room. Their bright colours or red, green and gold contrasting boldly with the plain white walls. In the centre of the room several cushions were arranged around a low table.

"We wait here."

The Sachakan made his way over to one of the benches at the side of the room and collapsed onto it.

Dannyl shared a look with Makin and walked over to the benches opposite the Sachakan.

The cushions were as comfortable as they looked and Dannyl sighed in pleasure as he slumped into the softness and comfort. Beside him Makin pushed his back into the cushions trying to find the most comfortable position he could.

"I will never complain about my bed at the Guild again," he murmured, eyes closed, "If we get back that is."

"Sadly there is no getting back until we find out where we actually are."

Balkan dropped onto the bench beside Dannyl, "Any ideas yet?"

Dannyl shook his head.

"Likewise I..."

He was interrupted and a nasal voice echoed from the doorway at the end of the hall, "Samara your audience had been granted, follow me."

The Sachakan stood abruptly and gestured to the Magicians to follow him.

So that is what his name is. I wonder what else we will find out about our captor now that we are in his domain.

They followed Samara down a wide corridor. It was dark but lighted by the occasional torch hanging from the ceiling. The walls were adorned with tapestries though in the gloom it was hard to see what the depicted. The corridor started to twist and turn taking them through richly furnished room and warm courtyards. They travelled deeper into the building and soon Dannyl lost count of how many corners they had turned.

Eventually they reached a magnificent pair of double doors. Made of polished black wood they stood the height of two men and were edged in what Dannyl could only presume was gold. At the centre of each door was the profile of a man also made in gold.

"Now how much do you think that would fetch at the market?"

Dannyl snorted quietly. The Doors were probably priceless.

The guide gestured for them to wait then thumped on one of the doors with his fist. The door slowly opened and the guide disappeared inside. He quickly reappeared and stood aside to let them through.

"Now this is what I call a room."

Dannyl couldn't have agreed more. The room behind the huge door was enormous. A high domed ceiling reached up to unknown depths of red and deep night blue. The walls were made3 of a white marble as was the floor. To the sides of the room were the same benches they say in the entrance but the cushions were made out of a shimmering golden material. Before the benches were exquisitely made tables covered in scrolls and writing implements. But what truly caught Dannyl's attention was the large golden chair at the top of the room. Intricate patterns wove through the arms and legs of the chair. From what Dannyl could see it was cushioned with a rich red material. In that chair sat a man.

His skin had a golden tone that contrasted with the deep green of his eyes. His hair was black as the night and his expression was one so severe Dannyl felt cut just looking at him. The man sat rigidly in his chair, oozing authority and power.

"My Emperor."

Samara glided forward and threw himself on the ground in front of the man. Dannyl was surprised at Samara's behaviour. He had always acted as the powerful unmovable Sachakan. Seeing him...grovel to this man was humbling. He must be a powerful man indeed.

Then Samara's words registered in Dannyl's mind. He gasped.

This man, this cruel looking man, was the Emperor of Sachaka.

"You have done well Samara. These are the Magicians?"

"Yes Master."

The words brought a shiver up Dannyl's back. It had been so long since he had heard anybody use the word 'master' in that context before.

The Emperor's eyes travelled over the magicians assembled awkwardly before him. For a brief instant those intense eyes rested in Dannyl and he felt as if the man was looking deep into his soul, prying out all his secrets. But then they moved on and Balkan was forced to meet that stare.

The Emperor nodded and a slight smile twisted his lips, "You have also done well Lord Garrel."

Dannyl's heart froze, how did the Emperor know Lord Garrel?

Dannyl spun around to face the magician. He sneered back and moved forwards, towards the Emperor and knelt, "It is my humble duty, as always to serve you."

The magicians looked on in fear and confusion.

"What is the meaning if this?" Balkan's voice boomed, the anger and betrayal heavy in his voice.

The Emperor stared at Balkan as Garrel turned around and smiled slyly at them all.

"The meaning if this High Lord Balkan," even while he was smiling he managed to speak the title with contempt, "is simple. You have been betrayed. You are now a prisoner of the Sachakan Emperor Nikora and without Sonea are utterly helpless."

Balkan gaped at him, "But...why?"

Garrel snorted, "As if you didn't know. I was tired of you're...let's just say 'new rules' taking in Novices from the slums, keeping that wretch of an exiled and her bastards. It was a disgrace and a dishonour on the Guild. But then I realised that I didn't have to accept it. The Guild...the magicians...they meant nothing to me. That why I helped Samara into the Kyralia and Guided him to the Guild. If I could get rid of Sonea by fooling her into saving you then that would mean the Guild was ripe for the picking. I could create a new and better Guild. Where only the pure could learn magic and the poor would serve us. For my help Emperor Nikora has promised to help me with that aim."

Garrel's words hit Dannyl like a storm of boulders. Each was a significant blow painful and lasting.

"Lorkin and Lorena will stop you, they will..."

"They will do what?"Garrel sneered interrupting Makin, "Fight the combined force of the Sachakan Black Magicians? They have barely graduated what could a pair of unskilled wretches do to stop me?"

Makin was silent. The hurt was evident on his face.

The hall was quiet as the stunned magicians took in the new turn of events. Garrel was a traitor. He had betrayed them. He had betrayed Sonea. He had betrayed the Guild.

The silence lasted for an immeasurably long time. Eventually the Emperor broke the silence, "Samara take our 'guests'," he smiled slightly at the word, "to their quarters."

Samara got to his feet and bowed deeply. He then turned and, with a wave of his hand, directed the magicians out through the golden double doors.

Before he passed through the doors Dannyl caught Makin throwing Garrel a last dark glare.

They followed Samara through an endless labyrinth of corridors and rooms. As the travelled on the furnishing became less grand until they reached a narrow staircase and began descending. The more steps they walked down the fouler the smell became and the colder it got. Soon Dannyl was shivering uncontrollably.

They finally reached the bottom. It was dark for no torches were lit this far below the ground. Samara created a globe light and continued down a damp walkway. In the glow of the globe light Dannyl could see doors on each side, heavy metal doors. With his senses Dannyl could detect a magical barrier overcome of the doors. Samara eventually came to a halt before another one of these doors but this time Dannyl sensed an extremely string barrier over the door. A guard was standing beside the door smiling knowingly at the magicians.

"Are these the new ones?" the man asked.

"That they are Herana."

He laughed, "Come on in."

Herana put his hand close to the barrier and it disappeared. He took out a large key and slipped it into the lock. It unlocked with a loud click and the door swung open."

With a cruel laugh Samara pushed the magicians into the black room beyond, as a final farewell Dannyl guessed. The door slammed shut behind them and they heard the lock click.

Someone cursed.

"What are we going to do?" Lady Ella whimpered.

"Now it starts." Murmured Makin somewhere to Dannyl's right.

"What are we going to do?" repeated Ella, beginning to panic.

"Ella calm down we just need to..."

Ella's shriek echoed around the room, cutting off Balkan's soothing, "What are we going to do?"

"There is nothing you can do."

The voice came out of the darkness and filled the room. It was a voice that come out of Dannyl's nightmares and made him remember his old fear. It came out of Dannyl's memories and made him gasp in shock.

"Who was that?" panicked Lady Ella. Dannyl could imagine her acting about in the darkness looking for the voice she didn't recognise.

"That voice sounds oddly familiar. I think...I think..."

But Balkan couldn't continue.

"Perhaps we need some light." suggested Makin.

To his right Dannyl saw a little spark which quickly grew into a flame. It disappeared for a moment then suddenly a large beam of light spread to the far end of the room as Makin opened the shutter on the lamp.

"Impossible." He heard Balkan mutter.