Secrets of Arkana Fortress (22 page)

‘Our 15 year anniversary eh?’ Anna whispered. ‘Men and women usually celebrate their anniversaries by having sex y’know.’

Mikos choked on his drink, port splashing up into his eyes from his glass. What a time for her to make a comment like that. He looked at her wide-eyed. ‘Er… what?’ The appearance of utter discomfort was rampant.

‘And why not? We’ve known each other for years, we trust each other… what’s the problem?’ Her expression was as blank as fresh parchment.

He didn’t know if she was being serious or not; so much for his uncanny ability to read people easily. He stuttered and stammered his way through a sentence and garbled it completely, much to his groundskeeper’s delight.

‘I’m takin’ the piss, Mikos,’ she barked. ‘You’re way too small for my likin’. I’d snap you in half like a twig.’

Still reeling from the comment, he grabbed the bottle and bypassed the glass completely, putting the bottle to his lips and virtually sucking the drink out of it like a vampire with blood. It was the right colour too. His head spun slowly, the impact of the alcohol hitting home like a comet. The dusty bottle smacked onto the side table resoundingly. For as long as he could remember, his relationship with Anna had never promoted anything sexual or lustful.

‘That’s a relief,’ he mumbled as he rubbed his face with the palms of his hands sluggishly. ‘I have a fear of commitment.’ He dropped his hands and let off a faint smile.

Anna stood up and put a sinewy hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m not the marriage type,’ she mused. ‘More of a casual sex person.’ She laughed from her belly.

Mikos looked up at her as she moved back to the kitchen. She had tied her dirty brown hair into a tight ponytail behind her head, and if, in his opinion, it wasn’t for her breasts and shapely hips he’d have thought she was a man. He valued her service, but after so many years they were friends more than anything else – she had looked out for him like a big sister would do against all the odds; she
was
his big sister. His life had been saved numerous times thanks to Anna; sometimes it had been from burglars, marauders, raging animals, and a few disgruntled traders. She was a whiz with her combination axe and sword – it was like watching a bear taking a dance lesson.

***

The papers crinkled loudly in Mikos’s hands as he read them over and over again, trying to fathom out what this garbled and confusing information meant to the Donnol big-wigs and their military commanders:

“It is our understanding that, after extensive research involving scouting and magical endeavours, that a confrontational instance with Lupian forces would be a viable option given the present, past, and anticipated circumstances.

Feline scouts have informed us about certain sub-reality presences resulting from incantations performed during the eradication period prior to the decimation of the wolf kind. Contrary to the evidence we gathered many decades ago, and the magical inhibitors we placed to avert any investigation into the violent nature of our mission, a distinct reanimation possibility has arisen to the east, and a plan of action is being formulated by my superiors.

A continued effort by your Donnol military in this ongoing war would be beneficial to both our parties, and would ensure a minimal amount of intervention in the plans currently in motion…”

Mikos lowered his hand and rested his elbow on the arm of the chair, his jagged movement nearly knocking over the now empty port bottle on the table. He grumbled and held his head in his other hand, gently massaging his temple. Too much port had given him a headache, as well as an undying urge to sleep.

              Things in the world were already screwed up, and this completely implausible situation regarding a group of people referred to as Lupians was just stupid to be so engaging in his thoughts. He didn’t know what it was about this information that preoccupied him so, but it bugged him no end.

              He thought back to when he had discovered the letter in the captain’s office a few days ago. As soon as he had read the name of the race of supposedly eradicated people, he had felt uneasy. Why was this bothering him? He couldn’t fathom it out no matter how hard he racked his brains.

              The papers fell to the floor as Mikos allowed himself to at least try and relax. His arms fell loosely to the sides as the creeping of exhaustion finally caught up with him. He slept.

***

‘You’re going again? So soon?’ Anna looked up at Mikos as he adjusted the seating atop his horse, the hardness of the saddle proving to be too uncomfortable.

              ‘Throw me another blanket will ya, Anna?’ he asked, leaning forward to take the weight off his backside.

              Anna obediently wandered back into the stable and grabbed a folded up blanket that she meticulously sorted out for her friend to sit on. She tossed it up to him.

              Mikos stood up in the stirrups and arranged the blanket to suit. He rested back down and let out a sigh of relief. ‘That’s better.’ He looked at a now sour-faced Anna. ‘I know we’ve hardly had a chance to have a natter and some fun, but I hope you understand why I’m going again.’

              Her deep eyes gazed up at him, not certain whether or not to show Mikos sadness or annoyance. ‘All this trouble just coz of a letter that was sent from one random bad guy to another not so random bad guy?’

              ‘You know it’s more than that, Anna.’

              She huffed, her broadened shoulders jerking powerfully. ‘OK. All this coz whoever it is wants to wage a war against people who are supposedly all dead ‘n buried?’

              ‘Maybe it’s all a big load o’ hot air, but…’

              ‘It’s bloody obvious it’s a pile o’ shit, Mikos,’ she interrupted aggressively.

              He stroked the back of the horse’s neck and arched forward slightly. ‘… but I won’t rest easy until I prove or disprove it. If it is a load of crap then why would the Donnol military have kept it?’

              With the sudden realisation that arguing wasn’t going to work, Anna sighed loudly and shrugged her shoulders in submission. ‘Alright then,’ she grumbled. ‘I’m just getting tired of being on my own,’ she explained, disheartened. ‘Where are you going then?’

              Mikos smiled at her. ‘Not far this time, Anna. I’m off to Hocknis for a bit to do some research, and maybe look up a few old acquaintances at the same time.’

              With that he kicked the horse’s sides and pulled the reins to turn it around. It wasn’t long before he was galloping through the wilderness towards the island’s capital.

Chapter 17

The sky had turned grey, throwing down more misery in the form of a rainstorm onto the city. Hocknis residents were growing tired of it all. There had been many heavy showers as of late and everyone had begun to accept it as a sign of the tough times the land was going through. The cloud cover was a thick enough blanket to block out the might of the sun’s rays and suppress any sliver of happiness that may have emerged in the hearts of those beneath.

              Puddles of rainwater splashed as hooves trod through them at a meandering pace. Mikos peered out from beneath his black hood, his breath forming into smoky wisps in front of his face. The sudden chill had dug in like entrenched soldiers, and was low enough to keep the people inside where it was remotely warm. The air held heavy around him as he geed his horse to one side of the street to allow a sluggish cart to roll past with one loose wheel and a small horse that looked too young to pulling such a load. The driver was a decrepit old woman dressed in a mixture of grey, brown, and purple rags. She was heartedly whipping the poor creature mercilessly. Mikos thought that this woman, Psyloss plague or not, was a complete loon anyway as she cackled at jokes that she was telling to herself.

              His feet tapped on the floor as he dismounted, turning around to seek out a suitable place to dry off. He wrenched his cloak up from the floor and rung it out with a firm couple of twists, the large floods of water cascading back onto the drenched ground. This wasn’t a rainfall – it was more like a flood around his feet.

              An inn on the far corner of the square caught his eye – a rustic exterior and an oversized sign mounted on the front. It looked like a large military complex due to its vast expanse. There was an ample-sized stable to one side that seemed to be kept clean quite regularly – it would do.

              Mikos led the horse across the stone square, his eyes perusing the dormant fountain in the middle. He remembered the times from when he was young; his father would venture to Hocknis for supplies and a couple of nights stay just for the hell of it. Back then there were more things for the kids to enjoy, but the entire city, along with the rest of Salarias, had degraded; some places were at the point of no return. There was a constant cloud of rain overhead… there had been for years.

              He had handed some coin to the stableman before entering through the front door of the inn rapidly with his belongings stuffed in a small rucksack. Vine-like bunting hung from the wall behind the reception desk with tie-dye styles all along it.

              The male reptilian sitting in the chair, looking thoroughly bored, hardly gave Mikos any attention apart from handing him a key for a room on the top floor when asked.

              The room was fit enough for what he needed it for – drying out his clothes, putting his feet up, and having a decent night’s sleep. He did exactly that.

***

He had never been to the library of Hocknis before, but he was nonetheless impressed with its extravagant interior of black, gold, and the elaborate architectural designs. People weaved in and out of each aisle at a leisurely, speculative pace, many of them not even bothering to look where they were going being so engrossed in whatever book they had in their hands.

              Two people were huddled in one corner of the library’s bookcase complex debating the merits and the meanings of the sayings of the gods, giving their own interpretations of iconic events such as the Ethereal Wars and the Renaissance of the Skies. The older one, a human female, remained placid as her younger, male feline counterpart was getting aggravated by his failure to convince her of his views.

              Mikos walked over to a librarian, a little old lady with bent glasses, sat at the desk at the forefront of the book room and stood patiently. While he waited he observed her activities – she was rifling through a large wad of papers, thumbing them efficiently with her wrinkled digits. She paused and looked up, her grey eyes lacking any reflection of interest.

              ‘Can I help you, sir?’ she enquired in a shaky voice.

              ‘Err… yes. I’m looking for some texts on the race known as the Lupians. Do you have anything?’

              The lady separated the layers of paper and stopped sorting through them. Interlacing her fingers, she then gave her full attention. ‘Lupians, Lupians,’ she mused. ‘I’m afraid I’m not the person you need to talk to.’ She shifted around on her chair and scanned the room behind her. She raised a hand and pointed to a doddering old man who was carefully slotting books back into their rightful places. ‘Ask Librarian Picon over there.’

              Mikos strolled over to where the little old man was tenaciously sorting out the various texts. He coughed to get the man’s attention.

              Picon glanced up from his hunched position and observed this stranger towering over him. ‘Can I help you?’ he asked in a withered voice.

              ‘Yes. The lady at the desk told me you could help me find some books on an extinct race of people.’

              ‘And who may they be exactly?’

              ‘I believe they are, or were, called the Lupians. Lived in the east or something like that?’ Mikos folded his arms and tapped his chin in thought.

              Old Picon creaked up and rubbed his head softly. After mumbling something to himself he finally clicked his fingers and walked off with surprising speed for someone so frail looking. Mikos followed intently, but a wandering question was roaming around his mind like a lost puppy – what if there was no conclusive information in the books about these people? What then?

              A few aisles later, with much dust wafted off the tops of many books, Picon’s eyes finally leaped with joy when his hands wandered over a thinned-out book.

              Mikos raised an eyebrow as he was handed the book with a wrinkly smile. ‘Is this all there is?’ He looked at the book sideways and was agape at the lack of pages in it. ‘Bit on the thin side…’

              Picon, in no doubt his usual manner, scoffed at Mikos patronisingly. ‘My dear boy, the people who compiled this information were renowned scholars and explorers, and so forth. Some even risked what they held dear to obtain it. What information there is, it was all that was possible to get. Value it as if it was the most precious thing you will ever handle in your life.’ After his little speech was ended he trudged off back to his murky corner to resume his chores, seemingly annoyed at a tragic display of ignorance.

              Mikos blinked for a moment, but then shrugged the old man’s annoyances off. There was a more important matter at hand. He wandered around until he found a table to study the text at. It was quiet at least.

              The book opened wearily, the waning of time having taken its toll on the pages – slightly yellowed at the edges, and a few small rips here and there. He judged there only to be about four or five dozen pages in the whole thing.

              There were sections about where Lupians resided, physiology, faint references to magic wielding, theories about lifestyles, as well as a single-page essay about artefacts; what sort of materials they possibly used for weaponry, buildings, and works of art. There wasn’t anything that jumped out of the ordinary except for the final excerpt:

“After extensive investigation, and a degree of risk, was undertaken, the demise of such a prominent clan remains a mystery and will likely never to be uncovered. Valiant attempts to find the final settlement have come up with nothing but echoes and rumours. Who, or what, killed them all is the lasting question on our lips.”

He went back and reviewed a couple of things, the magic in particular. The research mentioned ancient magic used to combat the dark arts, something that was lost throughout the ages. He thought for a moment. Maybe a book on this kind of magic might shed some more light.

              ‘Excuse me, Mr Picon,’ he asked as he walked back over to the old man who was now attempting to fix a ripped page in a large book.

              The old man looked up, an impatient frown creasing across his face. ‘Yes? What is it now?’

              ‘I need help finding another book.’

              ‘What about this time?’

              Mikos ignored the man’s rudeness. ‘Ancient magic and dark arts.’

              Picon raised an eyebrow then stood up, placing the damaged book on an empty section of a nearby shelf. ‘Follow me.’

              The pair of them weaved in and out of aisles before coming to a stop at a bottom shelf in an aisle that looked untouched for a long time.

              ‘It’s a bit dusty down here,’ Mikos remarked, stifling back a cough.

              The aged librarian bent down and removed a thicker book, this one not being as dusty as the rest seemed to be. The cover read: “Lost Magic & the Ancient Forms”. ‘Is it a good book, Mr Picon?’

              Picon scratched his cheek and clucked his tongue. ‘Extremely good, but this section is for books that aren’t in demand anymore, hence the dustiness.’ He looked at Mikos’s face with squinted eyes.

              Mikos examined the cover more closely without looking up. ‘Have you read every book in this place?’ he asked casually, knowing the answer before he’d asked the question.

              ‘What kind of librarian would I be if I hadn’t read every one on the shelves, eh?’

              ‘Good point.’ He met the old man’s eyes and locked onto them. ‘What are you staring at?’

              ‘I’m curious.’

              ‘About what exactly?’

              ‘This book hasn’t been touched in so many years until today. You’re the second person to pick it up in the space of 12 hours.’

              ‘Really? Who else wanted this book?’ Mikos’s curiosity perked up. Maybe someone else was on the same trail as he was… unlikely, but certainly possible.

              ‘I don’t know who it was, but he sat at that reading table over there earlier.’ Picon pointed with a crooked forefinger at a fair sized table round the corner.

              Mikos followed the finger’s direction and nodded. ‘Then I shall do the same. Thank you for the help.’

              He took the extensive text and sat at the table, enthusiastically beginning to read it through its precious pages.

***

‘Another caster? Where?’ Byde’s hands trembled suddenly. The prospect of not being the last of his kind was something to be excited over, a feeling he had not experienced for many, many years.

              Sagio pressed his hands together, as if to pray, and shook his head ashamedly. ‘Unfortunately, my sensory magic isn’t
that
specific. All I know is that there is another one out there on Cryldis, but whoever it is has been asleep for a very long time.’

              Byde assessed the old man some more. His magic ability must have been far superior to anyone else’s if he was able to sense things on an entire island. ‘How do I find them?’

              ‘Fates, I would guess, have been intertwined. Your fate and theirs are destined to cross. It is written somewhere that casters had a subconscious draw that guided them to each other in times of great danger and peril. Follow your instinct’

              Byde averted his eyes to the floor in thought. This was a moment he had never expected, but had dreamed of many times.

              His gut feeling… was to go back from where he had come from.

              That is what he did.

***

‘Fascinating,’ Mikos murmured to himself as he turned the pages of the book, his eyes scanning each and every line of text thoroughly.

              The book on ancient magic may not have been yielding any major clues to substantiate his ideas, but it was nonetheless an informative read. There were sections on types of magic he had never heard of before, undoubtedly lost through time. His forefinger traced a couple of lines, his lips moving with the words as if they were alive.

              His concentration was lost as the chair on the other side of the table was dragged across the floor with an ungodly screech. He looked up and saw a young human female with long blonde hair tied up in a ponytail, dressed in mage robes, and clutching a pile of papers and books underneath her thin arms.

              ‘Would you like a hand?’ he asked politely.

              She gazed at him with glowing warmth. ‘No, no I’m fine, thank you.’ She set the collection of texts onto the table, a few scrolls rolling to the sides and falling off onto the floor. She swore under her breath. ‘No such luck today.’

              ‘Having a bad one?’ he asked after picking up a rogue scroll by his feet.

              She laughed softly, an essence of sarcasm about it. ‘Kind of. I’ve just been told to come back here to continue studying.’

              ‘You’re a mage, right?’

              She nodded. ‘Yeah, at the Praanoc academy.’

              Mikos smiled then set his eyes back to his book, lifting it up a little bit to get a better angle. ‘Don’t let me keep you.’

              After a few lines down the page, the girl coughed, getting his attention.

              ‘Yes?’ he asked solemnly.

              ‘What are you reading?’

              ‘I thought you had studying to do?’

              ‘I’m curious.’

              He lifted the book up for her to read the cover.

              Her eyes went from one side to the other then her lips parted with a smile of amazement. ‘Wow… that’s the same book that that Byde guy was reading earlier.’

              Mikos felt his heart lift. Maybe this Byde character could shed some light on things seeing as he had an interest in this book as well. ‘The librarian said someone else had taken this book out of the dust earlier today.’

              ‘Yeah. He’s at the Praanoc academy at the moment, but I don’t know how much longer for.’ She frowned and fiddled about with a couple of stubborn scrolls that didn’t want to spread out, despite her attempts. She tutted loudly and gave up.

              Mikos leaned forward and closed his book, keeping one finger inside so his place wouldn’t be lost. ‘Is there any chance you can find him again?’

              I don’t know, to be honest with you, Mr…?’ Her words hung in the air and her face was a blanket of youthful enquiry.

              ‘Mikos,’ he replied amiably. ‘Mikos Valdera.’ He held out a rough hand and shook hers. ‘I’d appreciate any effort on your part in helping me.’ He flicked a lock of his charcoal hair out of his face and tucked it back into the hair band that held his ponytail together.

              ‘Nice to meet you, Mikos; I’m Lillia.’ She suddenly perked her head up, eyes locking onto a figure in the distance. ‘I can help you out now.’ She pointed somewhere behind Mikos. ‘Byde has just come through the door.’

              And there he was, the man with whom he wanted to converse. Where would this conversation start… let alone end up?

***

Things have a habit of working out in one way or another. Whether it is by the hand of man, feline, reptile, or Bullwark; the ways of the world go on regardless of what the inhabitants do. Magic can suspend, speed up, or falsify reality, dreams, and preconceptions. The world lives within an endless circle, history will repeat itself; the future is locked within its predecessor. The only thing that is constant is the present.

              Fair enough, the present rolls into the past right after it has happened, but acting in the here and now is what makes the difference. The past cannot be changed; the future cannot be predicted until it becomes the present. The only thing that is known for definite is what happens in the present, whether it is by the hands of the world’s inhabitants, or by the force of Mother Nature.

              Things can be predicted, but until those events occur, it is still a pure mystery to one and all. The past can be lost, the records altered, but the events that have happened are defined in history, whether recorded accurately or not.

              It is set in stone – the past cannot be changed.

***

‘… but the past cannot be changed. It’s happened, been and gone.’ Mikos’s face was a picture of dubious nature.

              Byde had explained to him his adamant suspicions that powerful time magic, combined with the power of a spire, had affected the world’s concept of when and where the caster race had been annihilated. In the eyes of the world, the casters had been gone for centuries, but in actual fact it had been no more than six or seven decades ago.

              ‘You see, the problem is…’ Byde interlocked his fingers and leaned forward on the table he had sat at before. ‘… that the force behind this is a most powerful one in nature.’ He glanced around and spotted Lillia. She had given them their privacy and taken up homage at a desk at the far side of the library hall.

              Mikos followed his glances. ‘Do you think she knows who you are?’

              Byde shook his head assuredly. ‘Only her master mage at the Praanoc academy sensed who I was. He was the one who let on about the time magic being usurped.’

              At first Byde had not been comfortable with discussing such a farfetched notion with a perfect stranger, and Mikos had been the same. But the mention of Lupians, casters, and ancient dark magic had instilled a glue-like sense of trust on both parts. There was a common interest, and the discussion had gone from there, with deep insights into the subjects arising like glimmers of hope in an unyielding darkness.

              ‘How did he know about it?’ asked Mikos.

              ‘He reckoned there was a fatal flaw in the time magic’s use which caused inconsistencies. For one thing he remembers the casters from when he was younger. He’s only 150 sum-odd years old.’