Chapter two: the Guild.
The intoxicating sound of Ranna curled into Araniel's ears as she identified it. The sweet lullaby wound around her legs, then higher around her waist, continually rising until it reached her head.
She fell into a sweet peaceful slumber as her brown eyes slowly closed. With a parting breath of marks she fell to the golden sands, dreaming of the guild.
The guild had been founded by three great charter mages. Litha Failas, Hanin Dewlong and Sayec Sildra.
The dead ran much in the times, necromancers raising hordes with the discovery of the bells. The first Abhorsen was new to power and spent much time writing the skills down for future generations or building his house.
Thus these charter mages had chosen to build a great guild and castle where charter mages could be housed and trained, without fear of the dead. The site of the guild had been decided for its defence against the dead; the running water had been a great resource to the mages. However, the waters did not always cover the spit at night. The three mages began work on a great spell, it would influence the tides to rise at night and fall in the day. The spells creation took days, the three only survived due to the devotion of their students and the marks of energy and healing they formed. But when finished the guild had a site that was secure against the dead.
Work began after the spells were complete, the mages each worked on their own part. Litha crafted the wall, placing spells into the black obsidian that was carved by her power. It took her three years to form the physical structure and a further seven to place the marks carved into the stone.
Dewlong built the castle, nearly all of the students and people in the surrounding areas worked on the structure. It was designed to be both castle and fortress, thus the halls were masterfully built, incorporating great halls, personal chambers, kitchens, courtyards, practise rooms and all of the other rooms that could possible be needed. Also in the castle were defences, hidden and obvious, the halls them selves were designed to be un-traversable except by those who knew them. The building work was completed in five years but the spells were cast in another three, aided by the many charter mages who had helped to build. The remaining two years while the other two masters were working, Dewlong spent making furniture for the castle, even this was crafted as a defence, all of the wooden furniture was created from rowan or willow.
Sayec built the parts of the castle that were the most special; the libraries, armouries, stables, observatory, catacombs and many other parts of the castle that were of equal importance.
However, the most powerful part of the castle that he built was the great tower. It was defended by so many marks that it seemed to be the source of the charter itself. The high defence was placed for good reason. The great tower held a long room at its top. The large windows looked out on all sides of the tower, to allow the sound to carry best. Hanging from the rafters in the rooms were the seven bells. The same bells that hung across the breast of the Abhorsens, only giant. The bells were crafted as the final defence of the castle. They could not be rung by any human or being of free magic let alone any force that moved on the land or air. Only a superior caster of the charter could make them ring.
The Weeper was hung away from the other six, protected by another layer of marks. Only the combined power of the entire guild could ring the bell, its ring would be heard for over ten miles if it was heard, it was said it would bring down the river of death to the castle.
The wards on the bell tower and on all parts of the castle were renewed many times by each generation; most adding new defences or sendings, sometimes both. But every generation without fail renewed to spells on the wall regularly.
It was the year before the restoration, during the renewing ceremony, that Araniel was found.
The hot breeze of the summer solstice was irritating the mages. It accentuated the already strenuous task of renewing the wards. Beads of sweat ran freely from the guildmaster, in between two mastermarks she lifted her pale white robe to brush back her white blonde hair which stubbornly fell into her eyes.
About to resume her work, she instead instinctively drew a mark of death from the charter. Cradling it in her crooked fingers, she turned around swiftly to face the cold breeze and stench of free magic. Instead of the sound of bells or the crackling of lightning she heard running water. Calling to the other masters she drew Saiyon. Its blade glowing with white- blue charter marks, confirming her fears. The cold breeze and running waters came from an invisible portal to death. She looked about 10ft in front of her, to the source of free magic.
Black flames blossomed from the sands, building up until they formed a 6ft column of flame which thinned out and became more defined until it had the shape of a man, or more specifically a woman. It was facing out to sea, releasing stream as spray caught its body. It turned around and the masters could see that it was holding a child, a baby in fact. It laid the child down on the sand, wrapped in a woollen shawl.
Baby left, the construct dissipated, its darkened flames blowing into the wind until it blew away completely, leaving only the stifling heat of midsummer.
"Return to your task!" ordered the master, approaching the baby; still preparing her death mark. The child looked harmless, but the free magic mixed with charter spells that the master could sense was disconcerting.
As she got closer the master saw that the baby bore a charter mark on her forehead. She extended Saiyon delicately to touch the mark. It did nothing. The master lowered her sword to the baby's neck and placed the death mark into it, a black star in the tip of the sword, stark against the white and blue charter marks. But then the child's mark flared a bright gold, flames indicating that the child had the potential to be a mage of equal power to her. Relieved she replaced Saiyon and took the baby up to the castle.
Araniel had only ever been told a version of this story in which she was found outside the wall. She had asked if there was anything else but was refused any information. She imagined the many kinds of people that she could have come from. Royalty, travellers, anyone; they would have to have been mages of some definite power, but who?
Araniel contemplated this fact in her dream before she awoke with a start. She sat up immediately, preparing herself for battle before investigating her surroundings. Once she stood with sword in her left hand, crooked fingers in the other, she surveyed the beach. The wall was complete, shining and golden. All of the guildsmen had gone, but she was not alone.
Standing about two metres away, was a necromancer.
Sorry to leave you on a cliffy again (in fact the same one i left you on before....silent chuckle but more will be up soon!)
charterfire