Spellscribed: Ascension (27 page)

His words cut into Endrance’s heart like a thrust from a spear, driving through him and leaving him stunned. Joven thought he was heartless. Of all the people he thought would understand. He didn’t for a moment think that Joven would think him unfeeling. Endrance turned away from his bodyguard, his eyes squeezed shut against the tears.

“You don’t know what I had to do to let her go, Joven.” Endrance
said, his voice unnecessarily cruel. “I had faith that you’d support me, even if you didn’t understand.”

Joven wiped at his face, trying to choose his words. “I…” the bodyguard began, conflicted. “I trust you, Endrance. I know that you would make the best decision you could at the time, but I can’t think of how the choice you made was the right one this time.”

The mage’s shoulders slumped. “I had my reasons. She should have just gone with me, and then-”

“Then we would have pinioned her like a target dummy.” Joven said angrily.
“Even if you were there. Especially if you were there.”

Endrance sighed. “I guess I don’t know you all well enough yet.” He admitted.

“Look,” Joven said. “You’ve done a good job, and you’re still alive and it has been nearly a year. That’s pretty impressive considering how tiny you are. You’ll learn our ways in time. Hopefully you’ll grow some muscles too.”

“I know.” Endrance admitted. “Once I return from Ironsoul, I’ll resume my lessons - if the kingdom still stands after this wolfmen attack ends.”

“Well, about that.” Joven said. “It seems there’s a whole army of them amassing outside the walls. You might be just a little bit late for your court date.”

“Great.” Endrance replied. “Okay, I will help deal with that once I can get some rest. I’m exhausted. Where are my wives?”

Joven jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Resting up. They fought all the way across the bowl and retook the gate with only a handful of men. It was impressive.”

“Ah.” Endrance said with a nod.

“It would have been more impressive if I wasn’t helping, but it was good anyways.” Joven said with a grin.

Endrance nodded again. “Uh-huh.” He
halted, his face paling.

“What?” Joven asked.

“If you had such a bad reaction to the news about Jalyin, I am not looking forward to seeing their response when they hear of it.” Endrance admitted with a grimace. “I think I’d rather go fight the wolfmen now.”

“I’m going to kill him!” Bridget exclaimed, slamming her fist into a wooden table. “Then I’m going to find her and kill her too!”

“I’m with her.” Selene said, scowling. “What was he thinking?”

They had made it back to their temporary home. Endrance started explaining what had happened once they had been reunited. He had barely gotten to the assassin’s involvement when Bridget and Selene lost their cool, as expected. They began arguing with him about why, and he realized that explaining anything more wouldn’t get through to them. While the three of them had fought over his decisions, he had gone into his study and locked the door. Selene heard him settle into the cot and likely went to sleep.

Joven shrugged, looking at the door to the study. “I don’t know what. But he’s not a fool. Not much of a fool, at least. He wouldn’t have done so without reasons why he allowed her to live.”

“How could he?” Bridget shouted. “She killed Anna! Anna died in his arms!”

“I know.” Joven said.

“She nearly killed him several times!” Selene exclaimed.

“I know!” Joven said forcefully. “But he’s the Spengur.”

“So?” Bridget demanded.

“The Spengur is the one who makes the decisions. I can see he didn’t take the choice lightly, but he made it regardless. Hearing him out when he’s had a chance to recover would be the best option. If we push him now, it will just make things worse.”

“Fine!” Bridget cried, throwing her hand in the air. “I’m too tired to keep this up anyways. I’m going to bed!”

“Me too.”
Selene said with a sigh. “Bridget, let’s use the bath first, then get to sleep. I don’t want to dirty the bed.”

“You’re assuming I’m moving to the big bed.” Bridget snapped.

“Yes.” Selene said, her tone of voice indicating she was not going to yield. “I am.”

Bridget hesitated, looking her sister in the eyes. She could see that Selene’s determination was driven by her own feelings of vulnerability. She rolled her eyes.
“Fine. A bath, then sleep!”

Joven watched them go to the bathing room next to the study and shook his head. “Endrance…” Joven muttered. “I can tell more happened down there, but what?”

Selene and Bridget bathed with cold water, not wanting to wait long enough for it to heat. Conversation was lax, and while Selene pressed up against the side of the bath and looked to the door to the adjoining study, she could almost imagine him curled up on the bed, sleeping restlessly. Bridget said something to her, and she turned away. He may have made a mistake, but he was only human.

Endrance sat on the edge of the bed and held his face in his hands. He was exhausted, aching, and pressured on at all sides by the people he trusted. They thought he was being a fool for not killing Jalyin when he had a chance. He felt like a fool. He felt he had alienated his allies and worse yet, the people who loved him, by making that decision. Endrance clenched his jaw and lay down.

There was nothing he could do about the past; he had made the decision that he thought was best at the time. And once the situation had turned out in his favor, he couldn’t go against his word. Now the assassin had escaped, and he hadn’t gotten the answers he had been looking for in the first place.

Endrance closed his eyes to the dark and tried to will himself to sleep. If he could get some rest, perhaps he could get a fresh perspective in the morning. He lay there, trying to clear his mind
and only succeeded in bringing up the things he had heard while underground. He tried to bat them away, but the seed of doubt had already been planted.

What if he wasn’t human? That would explain more about why he was resistant to the magic in Jalyin’s curse, or the necromantic energy in the wolfmen’s disease.
But how? He had slightly pointed ears and facial symmetry that likened him to elves, but even if he were to have an elf in his ancestry, all his studies said that any dilution of human blood in elven bloodlines made them mortal, not magical. It would mean that even if he were somehow half elven, he still wouldn’t be what they were saying he was.

The word Mercanian bandied about his thoughts. It was something purely out of the blue; he had only read about them in his history books. And even then, they were mostly incomplete. The only rendering of Mercanians described them in almost reverential terms, and discerning their traits had become something that historians enjoyed debating about.

Other than the fact that they had ruled an empire believed to be many times the size of Ironsoul, the Mercanians were really only known for wiping themselves out during some kind of great war that ended over a thousand years ago. He vaguely remembered Archmagus Talos mentioning the Spellscribing process was inspired by Mercanian magical techniques.

The possibility of him being one seemed so low it was impossible. Though the possibility of him being half of one was slightly more plausible, it still didn’t make any sense. He would still be a normal mortal. Unless…

Edrance’s eyes stared into the darkness. A chill ran through him, causing him to tremble despite the warming fire in the corner.

“Unless the mortal parent was a powerful enough mage.”
Endrance whispered. “Then their unnaturally magical nature could be compatible enough to breed true.”

Endrance didn’t have an answer to his own hypothesis. He didn’t even know where to start looking, except back at the beginning. He needed to return to Ironsoul, talk to the current Archmagus, as well as his master. They had to know more than they had been letting on. An undertaking of this magnitude had to have been noticed by someone… someone he could get answers from.

Endrance felt a faint tingle of magic against his skin. Remembering similar feelings, he sprang out of bed pulling his remaining dagger and bringing it to bear. Out of the darkness, Jalyin slipped under his swing like he was in slow motion and drove her right palm into the inside of his extended elbow while chopping his wrist with her left hand. His dagger flew from numb fingers and embedded into the edge of the desk.

Endrance froze, his breath held.

“I wonder how you know when I’m nearby.” Jalyin whispered, pushing him back towards the bed. Endrance sank down and sat on the edge. The assassin pulled up his chair and sat on it, her arms and chin resting on the straight wooden back. “Because that is not the first time you’ve detected me when I know I was perfectly unnoticed.

“You’ve got a certain magical signature.” Endrance
said, his voice quiet. “Your shadow blending is magic.”

“It’s a natural ability of my kind.” Jalyin returned.

“That doesn’t mean it’s not magic.” Endrance refuted. “And as far as wizards go, I’m one of the most sensitive when it comes to the flows of magic.”

“You’re certainly something.” Jalyin mused. “So now that I’m certain that you’ve removed that curse permanently, I’ll give you the information you need.”

“Well that’s surprising.” Endrance replied. “I didn’t expect you to return.”

Jalyin scowled at him. “Don’t take me for a fool. You’re my best bet at revenge. Valeria has a great deal invested in whatever it is she wants from you, and anything I can do to throw a wrench in that, then that makes me all the happier.”

“So what are you going to tell me?” Endrance asked.

Jalyin set a small satchel on the desk. “This has what you need in it, plus a gift from me.
Thought you might like to have it.”

Jalyin stood and walked to the window. “I hope to never see you again, mage.” She whispered. “If I do, I may just try to kill you.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” Endrance replied. He watched the assassin slip out the window, then walked over and closed it. He re-locked the shutters, even though he knew that he had locked them before going to bed and that hadn’t stopped her. If he was lucky, it was the last time he would see her for a while.

Endrance pulled his chair over to the desk and pried his dagger free from the wood. After setting it down, he opened the satchel. Inside he found a map, several chunks of Crystalphage, and his missing dagger. He stared at the blade, perplexed. Had she gone and searched for it after they got out, or did she have it all along?

He shook his head. He was too tired to think about it now. Endrance used the Crystalphage and went to bed, this time able to push his thoughts aside and actually sleep. He had one of his more pressing concerns taken care of, and he was finally able to drift off. He slept poorly, plagued with nightmares of everyone he loved realizing he was a monster.

Hours later, the household awoke to the sound of horns blaring through the early morning air. Endrance fell out of the cot, his legs tangled in the sheets as he awoke in a panic. He had never heard the horns before, but considering the siege they were in, it couldn’t have been for something good.

Endrance burst out of the study nearly the same time that Bridget and Selene came rushing down the stairs. Somehow, they were already dressed. Endrance had just his pants on, not having had the time to change again. He’d had to replace two of his shirts within a week, and was going to run out of wardrobe if the pattern kept up. He looked inquisitively at the two and opened his mouth to speak when Selene threw a bundle of clothes in his face.

“Hurry and get dressed!” she exclaimed. “We need to get back down to the walls. Something’s changed.”

Endrance started pulling on clothes, feeling too rushed to be modest. “What do you mean?”

“That horn means that something happened at the walls.” Bridget replied. “But it shouldn’t be overrun. Usually that’s a different horn that’s echoed up by each gate’s men. We’d have heard five of them by now.”

“Why are they echoed?” Endrance asked, pulling his shoes on.

“To make sure that everyone including the king knows that the walls have been taken.” Bridget replied. “They were supposed to do that when it happened last time, but they had a minimal standing guard and were overwhelmed too quickly.”

“Couldn’t that have happened now?” Endrance asked. This time he pulled on his heavy blood tiger hide coat. While it wasn’t as tough as chain links, it covered more of him and it was far warmer. He pulled on the satchel that Jalyin had left him, sheathing the recovered dagger at his back with its sister. If Selene or Bridget noticed the return of his errant dagger, they didn’t say anything.

Selene shrugged. “Well now we have hundreds of men on the walls, so taking them all out quickly enough should be impossible.”

“Unless magic is involved.” Bridget interjected. “Which is why we need to get you down there again.”

“I’m as ready as I’m going to be.” Endrance admitted with a sigh. He was still tired, and his body hurt from the abuse he had gone through, but he was the only spellcaster in the kingdom. He just hoped there weren’t any enemy mages, because he was unsure how he could handle it. At least he had been able to draw on the chunks of Crystalphage to refuel his reserves of power last night.

Gullin?
Endrance thought. He could sense, rather than hear, his familiar stir from sleep.

Yes, master?
The Fjallar replied.
What is it?

I have to head back down to the wall; can you fly ahead and tell me what’s going on down there?

I would be happy to, since I am already in the area.
Gullin stated.
I had found this nice burning house to nest in last night and it is only now died down. It was really nice. You should have been there.

Endrance rubbed his temples, unsure if he was surprised or just tired. His familiar was developing a sense of humor. He made a mental note to look into it later.

That would have been bad for my health, Gullin.
He responded.
I’m not fireproof like you, nor can I breathe smoke.

Have you tried?
Gullin asked, his mental voice sounding more knowing than curious.

No.
Later. Can you look for me please?
Endrance said curtly. They had excited the house and were retrieving their horses. No civilians were in the streets at all, though many of their faces could be seen in the windows, watching for activity.

Already on it.
It looks like there is something going on outside the walls, but the wolfmen have not made any attempts to scale the walls.
Gullin reported.

“We should be able to get there in time.” Endrance stated, turning to his Draugnoa. “But just as well, we need to hurry.”

They saddled up and rode down the mountain as fast as they could. As they rode, Endrance noticed every soldier they passed was on edge, almost as if they were waiting for some evil to appear from the nearest convenient hiding place to swoop down on them. Endrance couldn’t for the life of him understand why they were worried so far away from the front lines, but that horn must have had deeper implications than he was aware of.

“Hey, was that horn particularly different from any other?” Endrance asked aloud, his voice carrying no farther than the clop of his new horse’s hooves on the road. His last horse had never been found. He assumed it had been eaten or worse by the wolfmen when they attacked him. He felt a twang of regret over that horse; it had survived his whole journey from Ironsoul to Balator
unharmed, only to get eaten inside the safety of the walls of the most heavily secured kingdom he’d seen.