Dawn of Man (Thanos Book 1) (2 page)

Chapter 1

With an armload of books, a servant scurried to the shelf and set them down, thankful he hadn’t dropped them. Looking out the windows, he saw the two suns getting close to the noon hour. With a sigh, he moved toward the door but stopped, still seeing one of the apprentice mages at the main table, reading. “My Lord, you can’t be in here; you must leave,” the servant said as he walked quickly to the table.

The young apprentice looked up, startled. “Sorry, but my master told me I needed to study,” he answered as the servant came over.

“My lord, the bhari will be making rounds before long to ensure the building is cleared for the infusion today. Those caught here face stiff sentences.”

“The bhari?” The apprentice gasped at the name of the stealth warriors of Nazar.

“Yes, my lord, you need to leave this building quickly,” the servant pleaded.

Jumping to his feet, he said, “Thank you, kind sir.” He bolted for the door in a dead run. Letting out a sigh, the servant gathered the books and scrolls the young mage left on the table, put them back on the shelves, and tidied up the library just a little more. Glancing at the window again, seeing the suns, he dropped his rag and headed for the door.

Stepping out into the corridor, the servant closed the door to the library softly. Looking down the long, marble passageway, he heard the large bell toning noon in the center of the conservatory of magic. With his pulse becoming rapid, the servant moved down the passage to leave the main building. Keeping his head down but his eyes looking forward, the servant tried to keep his breathing under control, knowing being caught in the citadel during an infusion was a death sentence for a servant. After six years of service for the conservatory, he knew better than to take so long to clean and tidy up the library. The entire staff knew to be out of the main citadel before the noon bell on a sacramental day.

Rounding a corner, he froze, seeing a man wearing a green, silk robe sitting on a stone bench in front of the main chamber doors. In an instant, the servant took in the man’s features. Even with the robe, the servant could tell he was tall, mature, and very muscular for someone his age. The man’s long, gray hair with a few streaks of black fell over his shoulders, and age creased his face.
The sho-ka
, the servant thought, facing the man. The sho-ka never looked at him, but the servant knew the sho-ka was aware of his presence. The man may look like he couldn’t move fast, but the servant knew better. Slowly, the sho-ka turned his head, looking at the servant with indifference.

The servant fell to his knees, whimpering, “I’m sorry, my lord. It took longer to tidy my area than I realized.”

“I don’t care, but you better leave before the magi council assembles,” the sho-ka told the kneeling servant.

Not believing what he heard, the servant looked up into the sho-ka’s dark blue eyes. “Yes, my lord, thank you,” the servant mumbled, standing up.

The sho-ka looked back toward the door. “You better hurry; the council is moving into the chamber,” he said. “I would run if I was you. Just my opinion,” he added with no emotion on his face. The servant broke into a dead run.

Turning his head, the sho-ka smiled upon seeing the servant reach the main door and exit the citadel. “At least that one won’t die because of me today,” he said, turning back to face the main chamber doors. Just for a second, his left hand caressed his staff propped up by his leg. Not a true wizard staff, it was only five feet tall, straight, and smooth with no adornment. It looked just like a walking stick any person would use, which was what the sho-ka wanted people to think.

Indifferent to his surroundings, the sho-ka just stared at the door, waiting, not showing any sign of impatience. With the exception of his shallow, movement of breathing, the sho-ka could’ve been mistaken for a wax figure the mages sometime made at the conservatory. Studying the two huge, metal doors in front of him, he knew the council was playing games to see if he was nervous.

Truth be told, he was petrified but would be damned if he was going to show it. The magi council was like any bureaucrat board: They wanted to feel important with the task they held. If the mages could inconvenience someone, so much the better.

When the door opened an hour after the servant ran out, the sho-ka didn’t move as a mage stepped out. Looking at the mage without staring at him, the sho-ka saw a pendant on his gray robe. It had two brown, shiny stones set in it, signifying the mage as a deputy or second-rank mage. “Sorry to keep you waiting. You may come in now,” the man told him with a commanding tone.

Slowly, the sho-ka looked the man in the eyes. “No, you’re not sorry, deputy mage. The council wants to play kid games while the rest of us are made to save the world.”

The deputy mage’s cheeks fared red. “How dare you speak of the council in such a manner? Sho-ka or not, do so again, and I will take steps to teach you properly.”

The sho-ka stood up without pushing off with his hands and strode over to the mage. “Use that tone with me again, and I’ll take your head to the council,” he warned the mage. Alarmed, the mage backed away, bringing a defensive spell to his mind as he reached in his robe. “Your shield won’t work; I’m too close to you,” the sho-ka said.

Trembling, the deputy mage looked down and noticed the staff. “You are allowed to only bring your amulet,” he told the sho-ka.

Moving around the deputy, the sho-ka said, “I go nowhere unarmed, fool.” The deputy mage reached back into his robe and pulled out a pinch of powder. Pointing at the staff in the sho-ka’s hand, he whispered the words and dropped the powder in a puff of smoke. Not feeling or seeing a magic aura on the staff, the deputy sighed and followed the sho-ka in the chamber.

Strolling into the chamber, the sho-ka observed a huge circle engraved in the floor with twelve lines leading to a small, inner circle like the spokes of a wheel.
Well, some of the stories are true
, he thought, moving to the small inner circle.

The sho-ka stopped in the small circle and looked up to see the twelve council mages sitting behind a long table, facing him. They were all wearing the gray robes of Nazar Conservatory Magi Council. As the deputy passed him, the sho-ka mumbled, “Idiot.” The deputy cut his eyes at him, wanting to pounce, but kept walking. The deputy stopped at the far end of table with another deputy mage on the other end.

A gray-headed man sitting in the center of the group stood. “Ahnon, you should show a little more respect to a second-level wizard,” he cautioned. Ahnon noticed the pendant on his chest, seeing a silver star signifying his status as Grand Mage of Nazar.

“Grand Mage, I’m not in the mood for games, and your little prodigy is of little concern to me,” Ahnon told him. The old mage studied Ahnon as Ahnon glanced over the other members of the council, seeing all had pendants with one stone; they were prime mages or first rank.

The Grand Mage stroked his beard, smiling, “We’ve heard a lot about you as you trained, Sho-ka Ahnon, but I think you couldn’t take a deputy as easily as you believe.” 

“I don’t care what you believe. I know what I can do,” Ahnon said, acknowledging the verbal challenge.

The Grand Mage laughed. “Ahnon, you have caused much turmoil in this council and the one before. Your sire was chosen twice, and you refused each time,” he said, still stroking his gray beard.

Relaxing his stance, Ahnon fixed his eyes on the Grand Mage. “Those were not my sires. I’ve seen him and knew who he would be born to. It’s not my fault the council is inept,” he popped off.

Lowering his hand, the Grand Mage’s eyes steeled over. “Your attitude needs some work, Sho-ka.”

Ahnon snorted in contempt. “Maybe but not by anyone here,” he said, grinning. Seeing the two deputies moving, Ahnon dropped his staff. “Magidda zabrid!” he shouted, rising both hands, pointing at the deputies. Extending his fingers, Ahnon unleashed a bright stream of bronze from each hand, hitting the deputies in the chest, hurling them back across the chamber. They each slammed into the wall and slid down, crumpling on the floor, barely breathing.

As soon as the stream hit each man, Ahnon pointed in front of the council table. “Diru emuqa!” he shouted, moving his hands at the floor. A shimmering force erupted from the floor, reaching up to the ceiling as three fireballs hit it.

Three of the council prime mages were on their feet, ready to attack the wall again with new spells, when the Grand Mage bellowed, “Enough!” The three prime mages looked at him and sat back down as the Grand Mage waved at a door on the far right wall. Two mages came rushing in, and Ahnon saw the pendant with three stones of the troika mages, or third-level mages.

The Grand Mage pointed behind him at the two unconscious deputy mages. The troika mages ran to gather their superiors and hit the wall of force that Ahnon had thrown up. They both fell back on their bottoms with one’s nose bleeding. Smirking, the Grand Mage waved his hand at the wall, but the wall still shimmered in front of him.

Getting irritated, he reached in his robe and brought out a small packet. Whispering and pointing his hand at the wall, the packet turned into a bright blue light. The light hit the wall, making it glow, but the wall stayed in place. “Remarkable,” the Grand Mage said, looking at the wall in disbelief. “You did all that without any spell components,” he said with true admiration.

Panting heavily, Ahnon waved his hands at the wall of force, and the wall vanished. The council members all turned to one another, mumbling and nodding in respect. Looking at Ahnon, the Grand Mage walked around the table toward him. “That took a lot out of you. Much more, and you’ll die or collapse from exhaustion,” the Grand Mage told him.

Ahnon stood up straight with sweat dripping off his body. “I can still play, but I warn you; any more, and I will call for my toys. I promise, I will be the only one walking out of here alive,” Ahnon told him with confidence in his eyes.

“The Gods! What a mage you would’ve made if you would’ve studied only magic!” the Grand Mage bellowed in laughter. “You would’ve been the greatest Sho-ka Bhari since Gindal. The greatest magi ever to live,” he said, pulling out a bottle and handing it to Ahnon. “If you’re as good as you think, you will know what this is without me telling you,” the Grand Mage said.

Ahnon snatched the bottle, pulling the cork off. Bringing it to his nose, he carefully sniffed. “Healing potion with a stamina component,” Ahnon told him, draining the bottle. If they wanted to keep playing, he needed the strength. He could feel the fluid hit his stomach and move into his body. The sweat dried on his skin, and his heart rate slowed with his breathing. “Pretty good one at that,” Ahnon admitted with appreciation.

Tuning around, the Grand Mage headed back to the table. “It better be. Potions are my specialty,” he said, taking his seat. He pointed at a stack of papers. “If you would’ve used your two hundred years of study in magic instead of these other worthless endeavors, no one could challenge you,” the Grand Mage told him.

Feeling much better, Ahnon ran his foot over his staff on the floor, making it jump up, and caught it. “Worthless to you, and it was two hundred and seventy-three years I’ve been in training,” Ahnon corrected him.

“Wasting it on this stupid warrior business. You’ve been observed in every kingdom of the alliance and allies learning what their warriors can show you,” the Grand Mage proclaimed with some disgust.

“Any knowledge is of use,” Ahnon said point-blank. “I did study with several mages in my travels.”

Throwing up his hands, “But look at the time you wasted,” the Grand Mage said.

Ahnon smiled. “Gindal is ranked one of the best sho-ka of all time, but if I’m not mistaken, he was killed by a warrior, an assassin,” he pointed out.

“It was luck!” one of the prime mages shouted.

“Maybe to you, but to me, I want to live to see my sire perform his duty and not die protecting him,” Ahnon replied, never taking his eyes off the Grand Mage.

One of the prime mages held up a sheet of paper. “You wrote down that you have studied witchcraft and demoncraft,” he said, looking at Ahnon.

Still looking at the Grand Mage, Ahnon smiled. “Yes, I have, and I admit, demoncraft worries me.”

The Grand Mage grinned at him. “I have to admit, I too have studied demoncraft and agree with you. The summoners are insane for calling on demons.”

“But witchcraft,” one of the prime mages moaned.

“I want to learn as much as possible for my task at hand,” Ahnon said, finally looking at the others at the table. “I must be doing pretty well. None of you could touch me,” Ahnon goaded with a smile.

One of the prime mages jumped up, and a ball of fire formed in his hand as he reared it back, ready to throw it. “Ha! I could’ve killed you, fool!” he shouted. “You were not even ready,” he chided.

“No, you couldn’t have killed me,” Ahnon told him. “Before your arm moved forward, the prime mage to your right would’ve shoved the dagger in his hand in your heart. The prime mage two chairs down was getting ready to throw a shield in front of me,” Ahnon told the cocky mage. The ball of fire died in the mage’s hand as he looked down to see a dagger in the man’s hand next to him.

The Grand Mage slapped the table and leaned back in his chair. “Well played, Ahnon, well played.”

Ahnon looked at the trembling prime mage still standing and looking down at the dagger in his colleague’s hand. “To kill a sho-ka is not looked at kindly, but to kill one destined to protect the sovereign is a death sentence for your entire family. The king would be real put out if he had to fork over another heir,” Ahnon told him.