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Part III
Two Days Earlier
Evening of Somnus, Fifth Day of Duskmoon
In a split second, Konrad had walked away from his lover, turned his back on his home, and put his entire future at risk. That was what happened when he stormed out of his rancorous and emotionally draining confrontation with Géorg. He was still choked up about it. He fled Heinz Unruh's inn while his heart pulled heavily at his chest. He detested leaving in anger, but it was too late to turn back and undo the damage. Géorg had chosen to support the surrogate king, who—by every measure—had betrayed the law and spirit of the country he fought so hard to rule.
Konrad's decision might have seemed hasty, but he had spent days thinking about what he would do if he ever traced Józef's disappearance back to Unruh. Though the heir's letter had not provided irrefutable proof, Konrad had also been following up on several other threads, all which pointed to Unruh's guilt. Konrad was certain that a formal investigation would find probative evidence. Unfortunately, he would get nowhere fighting the legal battle on Unruh's home turf.
Besides, if Konrad did nothing, Unruh would eventually send his assassins after the young prince and finish the job. Unruh knew of Józef's location, and he feared the prince's return. Konrad knew he needed to act fast, or else he would have no more ward to protect.
He fretted over this as he wandered to the nearest stable-master. He was still bitter and angry about his fight with Géorg, and he wanted to fix it all quickly. He feared the uncertainty of what he had just committed to, but he needed to prove that he could triumph. He had to know that he had made the right choice, given that he would be plunging the country into civil war.
Unfortunately, the more he thought about the magnitude of his task, the more he realized that riding to Kish was untenable. The fastest viscar would take more than a week, and Unruh's assassins would be much better riders. Routes by sea were equally shaky. As soon as Unruh caught wind of Konrad escape, he would track Konrad's ship and order it blown out of the water.
Konrad dismayed over the lack of solid paths. All routes were becoming dead ends, and the cold sweats of defeat already left his tunic feeling itchy and uncomfortable. He gasped for air one tiny breath at a time. It felt as if he had hiked to the highest mountaintop, but he had not even left his home city. He was a failure … and he hardly even noticed when a familiar face crossed his path.
A female voice rudely cleared her throat.
Konrad stopped dead in his tracks and glared. Lady Black stood there in her black silken gown, which draped sensuously around her supple figure. Her garb was so uncommon among Kitezhian locals that it was hard for passersby not to gawk. Usually, the reclusive wizardress rarely ventured outside of her apartments, so it was rare to see her in the streets in plain sight.
Konrad figured she came to discuss more of her obscure premonitions, but he had no time or patience to listen to them. All they did was portend terrible wars and ends of the world, and he had far more urgent tasks to complete. He searched for a tactful excuse.
Of course, Lady Black beat him to it with what sounded like a practiced rebuttal. "Hear me out, Mister Rommel, before you turn me away."
He held his tongue. If she was going to call him out in public, he might as well listen politely.
She went directly to the point. "I know about your decision to pursue the heir. In direct disregard of the king's orders, I might add."
Konrad opened his eyes so wide they almost fell out of their sockets. He looked around to see if anyone overheard. "What are you doing?!" he practically screeched. "Do you see where we are?"
He tried to guide her off the main street. "How did you know? Is the news already public?"
He worried if Unruh might have already shut down the roads out of the city. Konrad could not allow himself to get arrested at any of the checkpoints. He would immediately be put on trial and hung!
Lady Black shook her head. She must have read his mind. "My words are for your ears only, Mister Rommel. Notice how no one here pays you any heed." She gestured to the passersby who minded their own business. "And to answer your question: No, Unruh is not aware … yet. Although, I suggest you come up with a good plan … and soon."
A plan? Was she mocking him? No … she had other motives. He could tell by the flare in her eyes that she was setting him up for a proposition.
"What do you want?" he demanded.
She cracked a smile and curled her index finger seductively. "Come this way."
He could hardly refuse. If she knew about his plans to challenge Unruh, then she had incredible bargaining power. He only hoped the price was not too steep. His body tensed as she led him down a side street, explaining her proposal.
Supposedly, she had business in Kish, but it was unrelated to Prince Brandt. She did not elaborate—not that Konrad thought she would—but she offered to extend her method of travel so that he might join her. And yet she asked nothing in return.
Konrad was surprised. It was a generous offer, though not much of a bargain if she had nothing to gain from it. With her magic, he would be able to reach Kish in a fraction of the time. The problem was why she had bothered to seek him out in the first place. He had nothing to offer her, but by helping him, she would be seen as an accomplice and subject to the same judgment. That had to mean she had plans for him later, and he badly wanted to know what she had in store.
He did not suspect anything malicious. Lady Black was not the type to seduce men into traps—not that it would have worked with Konrad, anyway. However, if her ulterior motive had been to pull Konrad into one of her premonitions, he would rightly be concerned.
On the other hand, her offer was the only viable path to the prince. He would be foolish to refuse, even if her offer did come with additional risks. So he agreed, and Lady Black led him to her warp gate.
It was unusual for wizards to take companions along their gateways of magic, but Lady Black made an exception. As Konrad stepped inside, he experienced a transition into a kind of mirror world, which resembled the real world except for certain visual distortions.
Konrad was reminded of swimming underwater, which he had done quite often during hot summer months at Lake Derfriedlich with the Brandt family. At the lake's bottom, plants and fish appeared blurry, and the refracted light created a dancing gemstone effect on the scenery. The visuals were similar inside the mirror world.
However, upon stepping outside of this world, Konrad and Lady Black would end up leagues away from their starting point. The first time, he felt like a child exposed to fireworks for the first time. He was enthralled. With this kind of magic, he would beat even the best riders atop the fastest viscars!
He and Lady Black continued in this manner, stepping in and out of the mirror world, across the Kitezhian plains and south to the Vinetan border. Before he knew it, he was in the dense Vinetan forests and well on his way to Lagash, the capital.
He made dozens of these magical hops, but on the last one, he left the mirror world and noticed the sky above was full of sparkling brilliance. He almost wondered if he had stepped into another realm of even greater magical wonder. Of course, he quickly recognized the dusty byway surrounded by dense forests that placed him on the route to Lagash.
Even so, he looked up as bands of rose, amber, and chartreuse ran across the sky, even as dusk descended. Beautiful wisps of lime-green and honey mesmerized him with their stunning beauty. But when he looked over to Lady Black, his body tensed in alarm. Something terrible had come over her!
He rushed to her aid, just as she sank to her knees and fell face first into the mud. Konrad feared she was possessed by another of her premonitions, similar to the one from her apartments several weeks earlier. But this time, it was much worse.
As he lifted her face from the standing water, her body whipped and thrashed in a series of seizures. Her eyes rolled deep in the back of her head, and sweat came from every pore. Using his full strength, he pulled her into his arms and wiped the dirt and residue from her nose and mouth. He held her until her body relaxed.
Now he was scared. She had stopped breathing, and he had no medical training, no potions, and no supplies. All he could do was clear her airways and hope she would breathe on her own. Her pulse was slow, and seemed within a hair's width of her life.
His euphoria turned to dread. If only he was an apothecary or someone experienced in medicine, and not just a foolish politician. He was alone in the woods, and Kitezh's most powerful black wizard was about to die in his arms. He looked down both ends of the road and saw nothing but a dark and empty path. Certainly, no fellow travelers would come to his aid. Night—and panic—was quickly descending.
A wolf howled. Icy fear crept through his veins as he imagined falling prey to wild animals. He was easy meat without protection. He began to tap rhythmically on the still woman's back, hoping to dislodge whatever blocked her airways.
"Come on …." He prayed to the Goddess to have pity on him. "Please …." His taps strengthened.
At last, Lady Black coughed, and a mouthful of mud spewed forth, followed by a gigantic gulp of air. Konrad was overjoyed. The Lady was alive!
When her breathing returned to normal, he helped her to her feet and led her to a softer and drier place on the side of the road. Along the way, he did his best to wipe stray pebbles from her once-beautiful silken garments, which hung from her frame like a wilted flower. For some reason, it seemed to restore a bit of dignity to the now disheveled wizardress. Her face was ashen, but by some miracle she was now stable—and hopefully on her way to recovery.
Konrad chest burned with curiosity. "My dear Lady … if you are able to speak … please tell me what happened."
The wizardress looked half-dazed. "Give me space," she ordered, shooing him away with her free hand.
He stepped back, his mind wild with speculation. He suspected a heart attack or stroke, or some magical effect from the mirror world. Seconds stretched painfully as Lady Black stared in silence at a small weed to the side of the road. Konrad had a tough time being patient. He needed reassurances that she would recover, and that he would not be stuck in dark and dangerous woods when the last bit of daylight disappeared!
"Please, my Lady," he pressed, his voice more urgent. Perhaps, even frantic. "Tell me … will you … will you be alright? Can I help?"
The powerful wizardress rolled her neck from side to side, producing a series of small pops. "You cannot help this time, Mister Rommel. Something … happened, which briefly and abruptly severed my connection to magic."
"What do you mean?" For the most part, magical explanations were lost on poor Konrad.
She coughed a few more times, and her voice was weak. She spoke softly, as if every word took effort. "Powerful wizards such as myself have spent too many years attuned to the forces of magical energy. We have grown … dependent on that force, and when we lose that connection, it produces many harmful effects to the body. Do you understand?"
He nodded slowly. "Do you know what severed your connection?"
He had never seen Lady Black hesitate when it came to a simple question. She was the world's best Diviner with access to incredible knowledge, but now she looked distant, as if still puzzling over an answer.
"I am uncertain," she admitted. "But I have my theories. In the meantime, we must reach Lagash before we become vulnerable to night creatures. Please, help me."
Konrad approached and offered her a shoulder to lean on. "I suppose we will not be entering the mirror world anytime soon?"
Lady Black shook her head. "I need to recover before I attempt any more complicated spells. Only simple incantations for now—and then, only if we are forced to defend ourselves."
Konrad sighed. It would take hours to limp their way to the capital. Thankfully, Lady Black still had the strength to summon a small ball of violet light, which even Konrad knew to be among the simplest of enchantments. Still, it was enough for them to follow the path ahead. Konrad took the first step forward, hoping the terrible incident was merely a bump in the road.
...
Anja reached Lagash in the early hours of morning. She was cold and wet inside her soiled black evening gown, quite unbecoming of her prestigious title of "Lady Black". She directed Konrad to the sparser side of town, to the north, far from the loathsome crowds of the inner city. She found an inn with two open rooms and spared a few hours to clean and rest. But by daybreak, she was ready to move.
She left without waking her companion. The snoring former minister had an important purpose to play later on, but for now she could not allow him to tag along. It would be inappropriate. When the time was right, she would find him. In the meantime, she had her own mission to complete, and it had a very strict timeline.
For more than a week, she had experienced a string of prophecies from her dreams, which foretold of a new role that she must play. Though the job seemed mundane, its function was so important that the fate of the world stood in the balance.
She was to be a messenger, but her message required the help of the Circle of Eight. She needed to reach them before missing the window of opportunity. However, given recent delays, she figured a better approach might be to contact them remotely. Fortunately, Lagash's Wizard's Guild had the scrying capabilities. And she hoped that, while there, she might also learn more about the strange phenomenon that had almost killed her the previous night.
The Guild was north of the city, inside a tower nestled along the banks of the Lienne River. It was not the largest in the world, but it was nice-looking and came with an adequately-ranked library. Anja traveled through a path in the woods just outside of town. It ran along the cliffs of a gorge, which Anja followed until she reached the great obsidian structure.
The stone had been quarried from volcanoes in the mountains of Ur, and magic had molded it into a mighty obelisk. The only entrance was located on the precipice more than fifty spans above ground level. The wizards placed it there quite intentionally, since they did not want curious commoners stopping by who had no business there.
Despite still reeling from her injury, Anja used her magic to create a vortex of air that lifted her gracefully to the entrance. It came as no surprise when a man in black robes materialized from the black stone, prepared to block her entrance until she passed his scrutiny. He must have recognized her quickly, though, since he bowed his head and muttered an apology.
"Forgive us, Lady Black. Recent events have made us cautious. We did not expect a visitor of your eminence."
"Think nothing of it, Julien," she called him by name. Names were especially easy for Diviners to pluck from the aether. "I bear important news and wish to speak with the guild leadership."
Julien nodded. "Our colleagues are in conference, Madam, but I'm sure they'd be willing to defer their agenda for someone of your import."
The answer was acceptable. "Lead the way," she instructed.
Julien walked straight through the tower's dark stone wall. A hidden portal took him inside, and Anja followed. She arrived in a circular room made of the same obsidian stone. Along the perimeter, blocks of stone jutted upward in the shape of chairs, each one carefully molded by magic to be both functional and comfortable.
The seats contained mostly men, three dozen split evenly between white and black affinities. She also counted four women, an improvement from the last time she visited the male dominated country, though not nearly enough.
"Greetings, Anja," a man announced with a deep voice.
His face was hidden within the shrouds of a hood, but Lady Black knew him well. "It has been a long time, Alexi."
The man removed his hood to expose a thin middle-aged face with white and black goatee. "I'm surprised you made it so far, given last night's events. I take it you traveled from Rungholt?"
Anja stood in the room's center, inside a circle of pale light. The position offered her a clear view of each of the surrounding wizards, while the room's shape projected her voice with superior clarity.
"I came to Vineta for unrelated reasons and arrived in Lagash this morning. However, based on your implication, I must now presume that last night's event was not a localized occurrence."
"Far from it." The response came from Alexi's right, a man whom Anja sensed held considerable rank within the guild. His name was Liam, and if Alexi was Grand Wizard, this man must be second in the chain of command.
"Wizards all across Gaia lost their connections to magic for about thirty-seven seconds," he explained. "It began fourteen minutes after dusk."
Anja's body stiffened. It was not a cringe. She did not typically cringe. However, the news confirmed her worst fears. "Then it is true. The Aether itself has ruptured."
There was a murmur in the room, but Alexi quieted it with a wave of his hand. "Now, now, we all know she speaks of the Zohar. Those in the East are loath to utter its name, but that is what you meant, isn't it, Anja?"
Lady Black hesitated to defend her use of the term. Indeed, she had avoided its name out by habit. But in Vineta, denying the Zohar was considered heresy. Nonetheless, it seemed that Alexi's question was merely rhetorical. He did not go on to challenge her.
Instead, he answered her original question. "The answer is no. The Zohar has not fully ruptured. Otherwise, we'd be in heaps of trouble, as you well know. However, you should consider it to have been a sizable disturbance."
Murmurs returned.
"Which means," Alexi spoke over his cohorts until they hushed. "We believe the aftereffects will last for quite some time. You should have felt these already, Anja. Isn't that so?"
Lady Black spoke candidly. After all, the room was already well aware of the truth. "My powers have weakened, I admit. And I suspect yours have as well?"
"Indeed," Liam broke in. "The same is true all over the world, at least as far as we know. We've contacted many locations, but since our powers have been compromised, our portals cannot extend everywhere. The Southern Content, for example, is still unreachable."
"What about the clerics? What have they to say?" Anja cut to the chase, but her statement took the fervor out of the room. The silence was unnerving. "Have you not spoken to your closest colleagues? Those most intimate with Zohar lore?"
Alexi adjusted his robes. "Anja … about the events of last night …."
Again, the guild leader lost control of his colleagues. A symphony of voices erupted.
"A tsunami!"
"They were all wiped out."
"Crashed into the ocean."
"Some say Apocalypsis!"
"Silence!" A tiny muscle spasming on Alexi's forehead illustrated his anger. His brow continued to twitch as he spoke. "I demand order!"
When the room quieted, he continued in his previous mild manner. "I'll summarize what we know, Anja."
He then described a mammoth-sized airship that scouts had detected in the skies south of Vineta. Magical resonance waves followed, which closely matched the theories surrounding Apocalypsis. Shortly thereafter, the airship crashed into the Great Ocean and sent a massive tsunami along the southern coast, wiping out everything in its path. Alexi's guild was unable to contact the clerics, so he had assumed the Circle had been compromised. Anja sighed deeply. The Circle was so crucial to completing her mission ….
Even so, their demise was not certain. The only thing the Guild knew for sure was that the Zohar had been disrupted. It was the first incident ever recorded, but it matched all of the theories. The rest of the world would surely look for other explanations, but those in Vineta had a head start in understanding the root cause.
Something had clearly severed the magical connections of wizards all around the world. But if it were truly intrinsic, and wizards drew their powers from within—as most of the world believed—then nothing could have affected all wizards simultaneously. But it had, and now Anja was armed with this fact and ready to debunk competing theories. She had all the knowledge and experience to explain the previous night's events, as well as the mysteries surrounding her visions.
She could still visualize the barren world, filled with spawn and undead creatures walking toward a great spire that reached toward the Heavens. The disaster in Anja's vision was the result of a rupture of the Zohar, which thankfully had not yet happened. But if it had, the world of Gaia would have ended up as a dead planet, bereft of the basic elements of life. Fire would no longer burn, earth would fail to nourish plants, water would dry up, and air would become toxic and unbreathable. The connection to the Zohar made all life possible. And without it, Gaia was nothing more than a hunk of lifeless rock.
Anja's vision proved that the tower was the key. And she knew that one man was destined to find this tower, a former Gnostic Knight named Abraham Morrison. Her only hope of saving Gaia from Armageddon was to inform Bram of his duty to defend this tower from the next Zohar disruption, or else all life in the world would be doomed.
Anja's problem was that she had no access to Bram and did not know where to find him. However, she knew from her visions that he would soon contact the Circle of Eight, and she had to be there before that happened. Unfortunately, the guild had lost contact with the clerics, and now she had to ride westward before Bram's meeting concluded. Only a short time remained, but the guild might still be able to help her. She just needed to get their blessing.
"You are correct," she finally confirmed for Alexi. "It was indeed Apocalypsis."
A choir of gasps resounded. Not because Lady Black had told them something they did not already know. Rather, it was because she was an outsider who did not share their core beliefs. And yet, she acted as though her knowledge exceeded their guild-master.
Granted, her reputation was held in high regard, even in Vineta, but she felt it was still worth expounding on her credibility.
"Hear me, Brothers and Sisters," she proclaimed. "By reputation, I am considered the most powerful black wizard on the northern continent. But, you should all know what has earned me this title."
She made eye contact with each of the skeptics in the room.
"As a child, my body's natural production of manna set records. My parents understood my gifts and had the means to send me to the best schools, provided private lessons, and I never missed an opportunity to expand my arts. I am now ninety-six years old, but to many I appear to be a woman sixty years younger. This has given me time to research more in my lifetime than any in this room, or beyond. I say these things not to boast, but to establish my credibility, so that none of you shall doubt what I am about to say."
For once, the room was deathly silent. The guild had given her their attention, and she was ready to begin.
"Apocalypsis is a spell that—until recently—existed only in theory. But to understand how it works, you must be familiar with the concept of magical density."
"I am familiar with this concept," Alexi offered. "As students, we are taught to maximize the strength of our spells by fully utilizing the space in front of us: roughly a cone, originating from the caster, three spans long by three spans wide. We fill this space with as much magical energy as the spell needs, with certain spells requiring more energy. The more energy, the higher the density, until the point where it reaches the limit of the individual caster."
"Correct," Anja commended. "It takes strength and practice to fill the space with larger amounts of magical energy. And yet, there are certain spells that will always be out of reach, since each of us has our own limits. Even powerful wizards do not test these limits, for the result would be to burn out and lose his or her powers."
"Yes, yes, of course," Liam interjected, sounding impatient. "We all know that wizards burn out from attempting spells beyond their reach. Sometimes it's temporary, and sadly, sometimes it's permanent. Happens to novices all the time. But we've all learned this in the first year of Wizarding School. What's your point?"
"It is the basis of my argument," Anja explained. "Humor me, and I shall soon reveal my point."
"Yes, let her continue," Alexi chided.
Liam crossed his arms and sank back in his chair. He clearly did not appreciate the reprimand, but Anja seized her chance to continue.
"Because wizards will avoid experiments that push their powers to the limit, few have attempted arcane spells that are predicted to require great amounts of energy, such as Apocalypsis. In fact, the theories predict an order of magnitude more energy than any other known spell."
"But, the theories must be wrong," Alexi argued. "What else could have registered in our readings last night, if not Apocalypsis?"
"Indeed," Anja conceded. "I believe it was Apocalypsis, but my point is that research is limited. No wizard has attempted the spell for fear of burning out, so it should be of no surprise that the theories have made a simple but profound mistake. I believe the calculations were never meant to predict total magical energy, but rather total magical density."
Murmurs sprung forth, but the loudest came from Liam. "But what difference does it make? Total energy or energy density … it's all the same!"
"Not at all," Alexi argued, who also battled with his colleagues for volume. "For most spells requiring total energy output, it makes sense to maximize the entire field in front of us. However, if our goal were to maximize density, we would instead focus our energy into a much smaller space."
"Precisely," Anja praised. The room quieted as they began to understand her implication. "I possess an old journal. It is among my most prized assets. Inside, a group of wizards wrote about a series of experiments in a field they called high-density magic."
Alexi and Liam both leaned forward. Anja saw hunger in their eyes, and she knew she had their attention. "Their most famous experiment involved twelve of them focusing their powers into a space smaller than what one can see with the naked eye. The density was so great that it sent powerful shockwaves across their laboratory. Meanwhile, the thirteenth wizard took careful observations. Among the most noteworthy was what he described as, 'a shearing of space itself.' "
Alexi almost fell out of his chair. "That's incredible!"
Liam's raised brows and curious look suggested that he still had not figured it out.
Alexi decided to help t. "Don't you see? These wizards had actually found a way to observe the Zohar itself! Think of DeVille's theorem, which predicts that the Zohar exists as a parallel world, separated from ours by a thin invisible surface stretching across the Universe."
Liam's eyes lit up. "So you think this 'shearing of space' had actually been a physical tear between these parallel worlds?"
"Say it louder for those in back," a voice pleaded from the far corner. "What surface are you referring to, and where is it located?"
Alexi tried to explain. "It's not an observable surface. We can't touch it or physically interact with it. However, it seems that high-density magic is capable of tearing a hole through it, thus providing a means to access the other side."
"Correct." Anja nodded firmly. She elaborated for the sake of others. "Think of our Universe as a bubble, and high-density magic is capable of producing a small tear in its surface. Through that tear, the forces of the outside can now enter the inside."
"But … what's on the outside?" the same wizard asked from within the crowd.
Lady Black addressed the wizard with a tilt of her head. "Why, the Zohar, of course."
Alexi's eyes were distant, lost in his own epiphany. "I can't believe it. All these years, and it took an outsider to finally crack the code."
This time, Liam was in sync. "Our Zohar isn't an aether at all. It's an outside realm whose energy ebbs into our Universe by osmosis. The manna produced by our bodies is the mechanism for drawing this energy in small amounts, which oozes through the bubble-surface of our Universe. And once it's at our disposal, our gestures and incantations direct it toward the desired magical effect."
He grinned widely. "Of course, it might be more accurate at this point to call it science, rather than magic."
Voices erupted as the rest of the wizards finally understood. The din was joyous in its undertone as one of the greatest wizarding mysteries had finally been solved—unexpectedly—within their very own enclave! Many sounded eager to repeat the same experiment.
Unfortunately, Anja had words of caution that would soon dampen their enthusiasm. "What you have stated is correct based on my understanding. However, it is of utmost importance that you heed this warning."
She spoke over the voices, and very quickly the room gave her their undivided attention. "After the experiment, the wizards analyzed the area around the tear. What they described was a 'bruise' that remained as an aftereffect. For quite some time, any magic cast around this area was observed to have reduced efficacy."
Alexi jumped in to finish the thought. "It's as if the Zohar no longer passed normally through the damaged area. This must be what it means when the Zohar is disrupted."
Anja nodded. "Yes. For this reason, high-density magic is quite dangerous. Once the surface of our Universe has been damaged, it takes time to repair. And, should careless wizards produce multiple tears, I fear it would cause permanent damage. It would certainly lead to what you call a 'rupture' of the Zohar."
Alexi projected his voice loudly in proclamation. "Indeed, we thank you, Anja, for this warning. For wizards in Vineta, the Zohar is precious, and it's our sacred duty to prevent others from endangering life with such a rupture. So, let me be perfectly clear to all in this room: Henceforth, high-density magic is forbidden. Not only that, but we shall also keep these discoveries secret, so that others are not tempted to produce similar experiments."
The grand wizard's ruling was followed by many nods. However, Liam still had more to say. "I was thinking about Apocalypsis."
The old wizard looked on the verge of a breakthrough. "If the ultimate spell of black magic was truly behind last night's events, then it must have produced a very large tear in the fabric of the Universe—large enough to cover the entire planet. However, our theories state that it should be impossible to summon that much energy … until the concept of high-density magic, that is. But, even if we concentrated all our energy into a very small space, we wouldn't be able to create that kind of damage."
Anja nodded. "Yes, but Apocalypsis does not derive its strength from the spell itself. Rather, it is powered by the energy accessed through the tear that it produces. The realm of the Zohar contains limitless energy, all of which enters our world in the form of boundless destructive damage. That is precisely why Apocalypsis is so formidable."
"That's insane!" one of the wizards in back cried.
More followed.
"Who was this wizard?"
"How could they have been so irresponsible?"
"Where are they now?"
"Silence!" Alexi used his magic to produce a man-sized rock, which he hurled at the stone wall. The shattering noise quelled the debate. "We must show discipline, brothers and sisters! Lady Black can only answer one question at a time."
Anja clarified. "I do not know the wizard involved. It is possible that he or she did not understood the consequences. But, regardless, I have no more to say about last night's events. All I would like is to request a favor from the Guild."
Alexi responded eagerly. "You'll have our full cooperation. Just tell us what you need, and it shall be yours."
Anja was pleased. Her gifts of knowledge had been well received. "I must reach the Circle of Eight in Kish," she explained. "My visions have foretold a far greater disruption in the Zohar, but one that I believe can be prevented, with the clerics' help."
Alexi's eyes went wide. "Well, why didn't you say so, Anja? We'll grant you as many guildmembers as you need. We can head out to Kish immediately."
Anja shook her head. "Unfortunately, it cannot work that way. I have foreseen the way forward, and it does not involve a retinue of guildsmen from Lagash. I believe you must remain here."
Alexi and Liam stared at one another, as if to check whether they both agreed. Alexi spoke first. "I believe we can trust in your visions, Anja. We will stay out of your way. However, please let us know what we can do to make your journey faster."
"A pair of mounts," she responded, "as well as some supplies. It would save me the trouble and the coin of getting them myself."
"Yes, of course," Alexi agreed. "You'll have our full blessing and cooperation."
Anja nodded, and the conference of the Lagash Wizard's Guild concluded.
...
Konrad was unhappy to find Lady Black's room empty when he woke. She had left a note with the innkeeper explaining her intent to visit the local Wizard's Guild, but failed to offer any kind of timetable. Konrad understood the need for answers to last night's events, but he would have appreciated an expected departure time. Instead, Lady Black had left everything up in the air.
He had hoped to leave at sunup and make it to Kish by High Sun, but now he had no idea when he would arrive. His sleep had already been made restless with worries over current delays, and now he was falling even further behind!
So he decided to leave a note of his own. It explained to Lady Black that she could find him around town while he worked on finding his own answers. He doubted that he could do better than the venerable wizardress, but at least he could gather rumors from the local townsfolk, which was preferable to sitting idle. So he mingled among the Vinetan locals, asking them about any strange phenomenon. And what he learned gave him even more reason to worry.
One of the stories involved strange murders near the border with the Elflands. Apparently, survivors described spawn with shiny metallic skin, hard enough to resist the sharpest steel. Others suggested these monsters had originated from inside the Elflands. Those reports described so-called ghost villages, in which thousands of Elfen residents went missing without a trace.
Besides these new spawn, Konrad also learned about the strange light in the sky from last night. Apparently, it came from a huge fireball, which flew across the sky and landed in the Great Ocean, creating a mighty tsunami that flooded the southern coastline.
Konrad cringed at the news. Kish was on the southern coast, in the direct path of the disaster. Fortunately, Master Brandt was under the cleric's care and inside their well-fortified hospital. However, major floods might have forced the prince to flee the Nexus' protection, and due to his injured state he would have been vulnerable to all kinds of danger!
Konrad felt an ulcer forming as he sat through multiple villagers' stories. At one point, he had to close his eyes. He was half-upset with the news and half-finding solace with shutting off the outside world. It felt good just to concentrate for a short time on what he should do next. In his brief reverie, he had half a mind to leave Lady Black and her wizards behind while he headed to Kish by himself!
However, he was shaken from his musings when a woman loudly cleared her throat. Not even the Specter of Death could have shaken him more.
"What is it?" he demanded harshly, angry at being startled. But he quickly realized that his visitor was none other than Lady Black.
"Not here." The sorceress grabbed him by the shoulder and led him down a side path. "Come. We must leave at once."
Konrad was all too happy to move on with the journey, but now he was confused over the sudden urgency. He wondered what Lady Black had learned, but he kept silent while she led him through the woods.
Eventually, the wizardress took him to a tree with two viscars tied to it. One of them tore its attention away from a wandering grasshopper to stare at Konrad. Its ears stood at attention. It leaned close and sniffed the air around his face. Konrad turned his head to avoid the foul smelling breath, and the viscar eventually lost interest and nibbled on a nearby tree branch.
Konrad was pleased that the mounts had already been purchased, though it implied no more warp gates or mirror worlds for the rest of the trip. That might be a good thing, if magic was becoming unstable. Then again, if Lady Black's magic had weakened, he worried if she could hold up against wild animals … or highwaymen … or—Goddess forbid—those silver-skinned spawn!
Her firm matter-of-fact voice stole his attention. "We have all the necessary supplies and can leave at once. Is your tab paid at the inn?"
Konrad was caught off guard. He still wanted to know what Lady Black had learned. But first, he answered her question. "Ye—yes, though I had asked the innkeeper to hold our rooms, just in case you had reason to come back. So—"
"That will not be necessary," she cut him off. "We should ride immediately."
"Yes, but hold on!" Konrad planted his feet firmly on the ground. "I have a right to know why you left me behind and delayed our departure for hours. Yet, now you want to rush off like a madwoman? What happened?"
Lady Black sighed as she climbed onto her mount. "Yes, I suppose I owe you an explanation. But, please wait until the city is behind us. It is not appropriate to have this discussion out in the open."
Lady Black's reasoning made sense. Konrad held his tongue until he passed beyond the farthest settlement and was well on the road to Kish.
True to her word, Lady Black summarized her findings from the Lagash Wizard's Guild, which included powerful spells of black magic, tears in the fabric of space, and how it would all lead to the end of the world unless she reached Kish in time. By the end, Konrad was sorry he had asked.
Most of the explanation had gone over his head, but there was one thing that stood out: Bram Morrison was the key to preventing the disaster of Lady Black's vision, and nothing in the world was more important than delivering a certain very important message to him.
Lady Black believed that the clerics of Kish would soon make contact with Sir Morrison, which was why she made such haste. Fortunately, Konrad expected the viscars to make it to the coastal city before dusk, well before the expected contact with Sir Morrison. At least, assuming no more delays ….
Konrad covered his ears suddenly. An ear-splitting howl shook him to the very bones. He barely had time to reach for the reins before his viscar took off in full sprint.
The momentum knocked him off balance, but he hung on tightly as his mount careened down the empty forest road. Another howl rocked the wooded corridor, so shrill that Konrad felt it in his teeth! By now, his mount was a lightning bolt, and all Konrad could do was hang on for dear life.
His grip grew weak, but he dared not let go. A third howl off to the side caused his mount to stop fast, hurdling Konrad over its head and through the air. He eventually landed with a painful thud on the dirt road.
He was disoriented, with stars sparkling in his vision. Though not seriously injured, he was still afraid to move. He had no clear view of the area and no way to tell if some evil abomination was searching for him, ready to feast on his flesh as soon as he gave it a moving target.
He shook his head, knowing such thoughts were utter nonsense. Now was his best chance to assess the area, find a place to hide, or at least get out of the open. He needed to find his courage!
Slowly, he turned his head to get a view of the forest path. It was clear, giving him some confidence to stand. But as soon as he was on his feet, he was hit by a blast of heat from an explosion just beyond the tree line. A series of redwoods deep in the forest went up in flames as Lady Black bolted out of the woods.
"Run," she advised as she leapt past him.
Konrad did not hesitate. He joined the wizardress in full sprint, stopping not once to look behind him.
Several minutes later, when his muscles burned like hot coals and his feet felt like lead plates, he slowed to a hobbling pace. His heart beat so fast that he heard his own pulse behind his ears. He struggled with each breath, drawing a wheeze on the way in and a gasp on the way out. He was lightheaded, ready to pass out, when Lady Black led him off the main path.
"I do not believe they pursue us any longer," she assured. "Even so, it would be wise to remain out of plain sight."
Konrad could not agree more. He held his arms above his head to facilitate breathing. He eventually spoke in a whisper between heavy breaths. "What … in Gaia's name …? Was it … the silver-skinned spawn?"
"I did not see the creatures clearly," Lady Black admitted. "But I caught their shapes as they ran behind the trees. The explosion was meant to distract them while I cast the necessary enchantments. Fortunately, I believe my subversion worked, and they will not follow us."
Konrad would have sighed with relief if he had the breath to do so. Instead, he put what little he had toward speaking. "So … we keep moving?"
Lady Black nodded. "It is another unfortunate delay, but we can still make it by morning. Only if we keep on moving."
Konrad hoped so, but he let Lady Black worry about that. He already had more on his mind than he could take. He worried about the prince, Unruh's assassins, and how he might survive the ride home. There was no more emotional fortitude left to spare for fireballs, destructive tsunamis, and silver-skinned spawn—let alone bruises in the fabric of the Universe. He just wanted to find Master Brandt and take him to a viable safe house, before it was too late. For Konrad, these were the only things he could do, and thus the only things that mattered.
As for the hike, it was long and painful. But he kept moving forward as the afternoon sun sank behind the trees and the shadows ran long. The road was surprisingly empty, which was no wonder, given all the spawn. The creatures had proven to be a serious threat, and no doubt most travelers had already wizened up.
After hours of trudging forward, Konrad's legs cramped up and he needed a second break. Lady Black allowed him to stop for a bit to massage his legs, but he hardly sat down for more than a moment when her firm voice got his attention.
"Mister Rommel!"
His head spun to where she pointed. At the furthest point in the road, he saw what appeared to be a trail of people. At least they were not spawn, but the way they limped along made it appear that they were injured.
"Come," Lady Black ordered. "I suggest we find out what happened."
Konrad first assumed survivors of nearby villages attacked by the silver-skinned spawn, but he soon realized that they were more than that. These people were caked in mud and blood, which meant that they were more likely tsunami survivors who had lost their homes. Indeed, they were refugees on a march to the capital.
Konrad approached one of the men in front. "Sir, could you tell me where you are from?"
With a dejected look on his face, the man passed by without saying a word. Konrad's heart skipped a beat. The man's eyes told of unspeakable hardships.
There were dozens more, perhaps even hundreds. They trudged past Konrad on all sides, and soon he was surrounded. They were like an army of zombies: dead souls limping forward, fixated only on their next step, faces without expression.
He tried to get the attention of another man. "Sir, a moment of your time. Please."
Given the cold shoulder, he turned to another. "Madam …."
The woman grabbed the child at her side and scurried along. Konrad was amazed and saddened. It was an entire swarm of people, and not one of them was willing to spare even a moment to speak.
"What are you doing, bothering these people?" an angry voice demanded from behind.
Konrad turned to meet an elderly man with an unkempt beard. His eyes were crazed and bloodshot, and he carried a foul stench. Even so, Konrad was happy that at least one person was willing to speak with him.
He bumbled out an apology. "S—sorry, I—I just wanted to ask a few questions. Please, sir."
"Well, out with it, then!"
Konrad had to keep pace with the irritated old man, since he never slowed his march.
"We shouldn't be lingering, you know," the man said. "The name's Charles. Not that it matters."
Konrad seized his opening. "Where are you from? What happened? Why is everyone injured?"
"Slow down," Charles demanded. "Can't you ask one question at a time, like a normal person?"
Konrad was ready with another apology when Charles cut him off. "We're from bergs and villages along the southern coast. Everything down there was destroyed. All of it! Thousands dead. Family, neighbors, loved ones …. If you know what in the Burning Pits caused it, we'd sure like to know."
"I—I …"
Konrad trailed off. Yes, he knew the cause, but somehow it did not feel right explaining the details to Charles. Besides, the old man looked eager to end the conversation and return to his march.
Charles scoffed. "Humph, doesn't seem like you know much of anything. Doesn't matter. My life is finished, anyway. I might as well have been killed by those silver-skinned spawn, just like the rest of my family. We're sitting ducks out here in the open, don't you know that, boy?"
Konrad gasped. "We were attacked, too! But we managed to escape."
He realized as he said it that Lady Black was nowhere in sight. It was just him and Charles, by themselves, in the middle of a refugee river passing on both sides.
"Well, lucky you." Charles' tone was condescending. "We weren't so fortunate. They came out of the forest, grabbed small children and other things that were easy to carry, and took them back with them. We tried to stop them, but we stood no chance. Few survive an attack against those creatures. We need to find a place with better defenses. Like Lagash. And if I were you, I'd turn and head back to the capital before they get you, too!"
Konrad's jaw quivered. "Please, one last question. Are any of you from Kish? Do you know if there are survivors?"
Charles rolled his eyes. "Pfft, naw. I'm from Kish. Didn't I mention that? The whole place was wiped out."
Konrad's knees went weak. He tried to swallow past the knot in his throat. "What? No survivors?"
Charles looked insulted that Konrad would force him to repeat himself. "I didn't do a roll call, dammit, but I got a good look at the aftermath. Every home in the village was washed away, along with half the trees. It's nothing but a pile of mud right now. Go on ahead and see for yourself. But take it from me. If there were survivors, they're either here with us, or they got carried off by the spawn."
He paused for a bit, as if holding back a tear, then added, "I gotta go …."
Charles marched faster in an attempt to join his fellow refugees. Konrad felt as if he had just been stabbed in the gut. He wondered if the old man had it right, and the disaster was worse than he had imagined. Master Brandt could already be dead, killed by the tsunami or carried off by the spawn.
But then Konrad felt a spark of hope. The prince might actually be among the refugees!
Feeling elated, he weaved in between the river of people, trying desperately to catalogue their faces. But there were just too many. He backtracked a bit, forcing his way up front, trying not to miss a single face. But there was no sign of Master Brandt anywhere. All the while, he grew more frantic.
He was moments away from a full-fledged panic. The prince's safety was the whole reason for his journey. If the heir were dead, there was no point moving forward. Without a legitimate member of the Brandt family to challenge Unruh's leadership, the surrogate king was untouchable. Konrad's choice to embark on this journey had been his own death sentence!
He was only jarred back to reality when a firm hand grabbed him by the shoulder. He recognized that touch, which forced him to look into a set of very commanding eyes.
"Józef Brandt is alive," Lady Black insisted, in a manner that left no room for debate. "But he is not here. You must move forward."
Lady Black had saved him from his spiral of madness. He was usually able to think more objectively, but the pressure this time was just too much. He wanted to see the prince alive and well, and prove that those thoughts in the back of his mind were irrational. But for the time being, he had to trust in the wizardress.
"No more breaks," she declared. Though her voice was harsh, her eyes held compassion. "We survive by staying ahead of the dangers."
There was wisdom in her suggestion, so Konrad nodded. His legs would hate him later, but he needed to keep moving if he was to make it to Kish by dawn.
...
Józef just finished dressing Madam Muller's arm with a clean bandage. It was almost morning, and this was one of his new duties since volunteering for the clerics. Nursing was in high demand, given the large numbers of injured patients. It also made Józef feel needed, and it felt better than lying in bed feeling sorry for himself.
Madam Muller liked to talk. And she treated him like a kind stranger, since he never revealed his identity to her. Most people treated him differently when they learned he was heir to the Brandt family. Sometimes, they would be overly nice, even though he knew it was an act. They did it because they wanted something in return. Other times, they would avoid him altogether, as if his birth status was off-putting. But, when he played the part of a stranger, it always made people more comfortable around him, and they were more likely to be themselves.
This was certainly true for Madam Muller, who trusted Józef to a very sad and personal story. He learned that she had lost her husband during the tsunami, a man with whom she had been married for more than thirty years—twice Józef's age! She had also lost a couple of dogs, some chickens, and a vegetable garden that had always produced the most delicious squash and tomatoes.
At least she still held onto some good memories: places that she and Hugo used to travel—that was her husband's name—humorous quirks and personalities of their dogs, and the squirrels their dogs used to chase, much to the chagrin of their neighbors. The fact that it was all gone made it all the more poignant. It was not the first time Józef had been exposed to loss, but this time it really meant something. This time, it affected him.
Now Madam Muller had a problem: where to go next. Her arm was treated and would begin to heal on its own, so she no longer needed to be an in-patient. She had missed the mass exodus of refugees, which would have been the best time to leave. Now she would need to find another set of travelers for protection. Sadly, staying in Kish was not an option. The Nexus was only up and running temporarily. It had no running water, no functioning plumbing, and the food storage was rapidly dwindling.
Another option was to wait until the last few people left Kish. Even the clerics had to go, eventually. Józef planned to do the same, though he knew the last few days would require a bit of hard work and preparation. Then, the Nexus would be shuttered. The only building left in Kish would remain an empty shell, the last reminder of a once beautiful city.
As for where Józef would go next … he had yet to figure that out. On the bright side, it was finally his chance to be free of the titles and responsibilities that he detested—especially the political backstabbing. He knew that Unruh had been behind his original kidnapping. But he had no proof, and there was little he could do about it. He remembered sending an appeal to Konrad a few days earlier, but it would take weeks before his warden reached him in Kish. And by then, no one would be left. So it only made sense for Józef to take care of himself.
"How are we doing today, Józef?" asked the surgeon who had quickly become Józef's new best friend.
"Doing just fine, Isaac," he responded. "Just fixing up the Madam's arm. How does it feel?"
She stared with wonder at Józef's handiwork. "You did a splendid job, dear. I've never seen a gentler or kinder nurse. You remind me of my nephew."
"Denise, I'm sorry to interrupt." Isaac put on his finest smile. "But could I borrow Józef for a bit?"
"Yes, of course!" Madam Muller agreed. "I should not have stolen so much of his time. If it were up to me, I'd talk his ear off all night."
She very nearly did, but her smile and gratitude made it well worth it. After saying farewell, he followed Isaac through the halls of the hospital, using a pair of crutches that Isaac had given him. He still had trouble standing on his own, but with some help, he managed. He had to take care not to slip on the mud, though. The hospital's once-pristine marble floors had layers of earth and footprints from all the passersby. No one bothered to clean up anymore, which was a pity. He still saw remnants of fantastic patterns underneath.
"Where are we going?" Józef asked the spectacled cleric.
Isaac stopped to adjust his rims. "Oh … I suppose I forgot to mention it, but you have visitors. They've requested that I bring you to them."
For a moment, Józef's heart stood still. He was not expecting anyone, and he wondered for a moment if it might be Unruh's men out to get him. Then again, Isaac would have been more careful. At least, Józef hoped so.
He felt vulnerable, but then a familiar voice called out from across the grand atrium. "Your Majesty!"
Józef was taken aback when a very frantic Konrad rushed over, only to sink to his knees and grovel for mercy. "Goddess, forgive me! I should have never left your side. I am to blame for your injuries. Please excuse my failures, Milord. I accept any repudiation—"
Józef suspected that if he did not intervene, Konrad would go on like that for the rest of the day. So he put both crutches in one hand and used the other to pull his old friend his feet. "Get up, Konrad. You are embarrassing me."
Konrad looked confused. "B—but, Your Majesty … your face … y—your scars … y—your feet!" He gestured at Józef's missing toes, which had been removed as part of his surgery.
It was wonderful having Konrad back, but the reunion was tempered by all the fretting. The Primary Minister always took his job too seriously, which made it harder for Józef to take him seriously.
"Please, do not remind me," the prince begged. "I see them each day." It was painful just thinking about them. "The scars are a reminder not to trust my life to strangers …."
A woman behind Konrad cleared her throat. To Józef's surprised, it was Lady Black. She was the last person he expected to see. The mysteriously reclusive wizardress of Rungholt, now ostensibly traveling with Konrad. It was a strange sight.
"I suggest we leave the prince and his guardian to become reacquainted," she proposed to nearby Isaac. "As mentioned, I have urgent matters to discuss with the clerical leadership."
"Yes, well …" Isaac paused as if to find the right words. "They are currently in the process of building a communications portal to speak with the Gaian priests of Minoa."
The wizardress arched her brows. "Oh? That sounds rather difficult, given the recent disturbance with the Zohar."
Isaac's eyes went wide. "You know about that?"
Lady Black, nonchalant as always, answered the question with a question. "I suppose you would appreciate some help constructing your portal? I know wizards in Kish tend to focus on white magic, but good portals are usually built with the help of both affinities."
Isaac looked overjoyed, but Józef wondered if Lady Black's appearance was more than just serendipity. She was not usually one to volunteer to help.
But the cleric seemed happy to accept anyway. He practically clapped his hands with joy. "Yes, please! I'll take you to the others immediately."
He rushed off, but not before shouting a message to Józef over his shoulder. "Send for me if you need anything."
"Of course," Józef shouted back, but his surgeon friend had already merged back into the hallway of passersby.
This left Józef alone with Konrad, which was nice and comforting after all he had been through, but there was something awkward about it. It was reminiscent of many good old days, when Konrad would catch Józef after weeks of freedom from his studies and obligations, and he would need to act penitent as he returned home. But this time was different.
Konrad looked like a wreck. The old disciplinarian used to be strict and authoritative, but now he wore the face of a puppy dog who had gotten into trouble. He practically groveled with apologies, yet he had nothing to be sorry about. It certainly did not make Józef feel any safer, when his guardian looked as if he could not protect anything.
The prince looked to either side. It was obvious that people were staring. It made him want to move somewhere more private. He was not yet ready to reveal that he was Prince of Kitezh, and he hoped Konrad would understand.
"Would you mind if we spoke in the courtyard?" he suggested. "It is a bit quieter there. People tend to avoid it due to the mud."
His old friend seemed in a daze. "Yes … mud. We saw plenty of it on the way in. But, fewer people means more privacy, I suppose. Even though it is freezing outside. What about your feet?"
Józef looked down at his toes. The ones left had survived frostbite, so he figured a bit of cool earth would not hurt them.
"They are fine," he asserted. "You want to talk, right? I have much to tell you."
He led Konrad to the courtyard, where they talked for hours. The sun and temperatures rose throughout the day, which made it a comfortable space. Józef told his old friend everything. Meanwhile, Konrad updated him on Rungholt since Unruh took power.
Józef was not comfortable hearing about the new surrogate king. It was obvious that Konrad had high aspirations to force a change in leadership, but the chances of that seemed nigh impossible. Unruh would never give up the throne so easily. He would do everything in his power to discredit Józef's claim, stop or delay his return, and convince the Ministry that his stability was most important during times of war. And if these did not work, he would not hesitate to send his assassins.
Going up against this mad king sounded like nuts. "Are you really serious, Konrad?"
The man had never been so serious. "I know it sounds insurmountable, Your Majesty, but I can protect you. I know it. And we have a chance, once we make it back to Rungholt. More than you know are still loyal to the Brandt family. If we can survive the return trip, then we can seek sanctuary close to the city and begin a public hearing regarding your claim to the crown."
Józef was overwhelmed. He did not care about the crown. He was tired of running and just wanted to find somewhere to hide in peace. Unruh could keep the burning crown for all he cared. Just as long as that weasel left him alone!
But for Konrad, the crown meant something different. His face pleaded for support. It conveyed duty and loyalty, and Józef felt these burdens like never before. He could not help but nod and accept his fate.
"Yes, Konrad, I shall," he conceded. "I always knew I could depend on you."
It was half-hearted for sure, but he was the heir of the Brandt family. Apparently, that meant something to some people. He just wished he could choose to walk away, instead. Someday, perhaps.