The Blackstar Legacy (Veilguard Saga #2) - Chapter 1

“Fast. You have to react faster,” Rowan said as his sword passed within inches of Osric’s face.

Osric danced back and feinted left, then quickly changed direction, trying to catch him when he was off balance, on his back foot. Or so it had seemed to Osric. Rowan’s wrist pivoted, turning to parry the attack, but then Osric moved. The attack had been a second feint. He ducked under Rowan’s guard and struck, his practice sword connecting solidly with the ranger’s side.

“Damnit,” Rowan said, stepping back.

The stagfolk stamped their hooves in appreciation, cheering. Osric stepped back, a grin spreading across his face as he lowered his weapon in an overly fancy bow.

The past month, waiting for the Sage of Avendell to translate the ancient document they’d found, he had not spent his time idle. Although Osric had learned a lot about fighting ‘on the job’ as it were, he still had no formal training. Osric had been brought up to be a blacksmith’s apprentice, and knew more about forging a blade than wielding it.

That time of his life was gone, and it looked as though he would never make it back to Eldham and Master Ironhand. Ever since finding the ancient artifact and the quest that had begun from that discovery, Osric’s life had changed. He’d been in more life and death situations in that time than most soldiers would go through in their entire lives. He’d fought warriors for a secret order known as the Brethren and creatures from the other side of the veil, monsters outside of his understanding.

And he was sure to be fighting more before long. Jasper, who besides being a cleric of Heathus had studied the veil nearly as long as the Sage had, both as part of the Brethren and on his own, after leaving them, had told him he thought they were close to translating the whole document. If the Sage was right, it was supposed to tell them how they could stop the veil from breaking entirely. Considering the creatures he’d seen that had already slipped through, Osric was certain that wasn’t something he wanted to happen.

So he took the time to practice with Rowan. The ranger may have been more proficient with a bow than a sword, but he still knew a sight more than Osric did, having trained with the Greenwood rangers for years before being allowed into their ranks.

“It’s about time you finally got through my defenses,” Rowan said, rubbing his side where Osric might have whacked him a little too hard.

Osric wasn’t one of these hulking giants, but he’d spent a lifetime, or at least his lifetime, at the forge, hammering away at iron and steel, and sometimes he forgot his own strength.

“Thanks,” Osric replied, catching his breath. “I’ve been working on that move.”

“It was a good strike, but remember – in a real fight, that opening you created could have been deadly.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you ducked under my guard, you left yourself exposed,” Rowan explained, demonstrating the movement. “A more opponent could have seen that and struck while you were vulnerable. I didn’t happen to catch it this time, but I did notice it just after the opening closed. You won’t always be so lucky.”

“I see,” Osric said, his enthusiasm dampened slightly. “I’ll work on that.”

“Don’t be discouraged. You’re improving rapidly. Just keep in mind that in battle, one mistake can be your last. Don’t get so wedded to an idea that you don’t adjust for the realities of the combat at hand.”

Osric nodded, taking it in as he glanced up, trying to catch a faint sign of the sun, to determine its position in the sky and how far it had traveled.

Rowan followed his gaze and chuckled. “Go on, then. I know you’re eager to see her before she finishes for the day.”

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“There’s no use denying it. You’ve been watching the sun’s progress all afternoon.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Only to anyone with eyes,” Rowan teased. “Now go. You’ve had enough for today, and I’m sure Talia could use a break from her studies as well.”

“Thanks, Rowan,” Osric said, already hurrying out of the practice area, waving at several of the stagfolk as he passed.

They’d quickly taken to coming to watch Rowan train Osric, and on lucky days Valen or one of the others who’d actually engaged in combat on the borders of their lands had offered their own pointers or two. Most of the denizens of Avendell were magical creatures with no use for weapons or even language, but the Stagfolk were surprisingly similar to most of the people he’d known back home in Eldham.

Well, a little similar at least.

The walk through the forest was peaceful. The ethereal light filtering through the canopy and the occasional glimpse of Shimmerlings as flittering lights further away, and glom silently ghosting by in the distance. The creatures of the forces seemed enchanted by the presence of humans and were never far away. They kept their distance, except for the stagfolk, always more just out of sight.

Osric couldn’t fault them for being skittish. The majority of the humans they’d dealt with were interlopers. Brethren scouts, treasure seekers lured by tales of fabulous wealth beyond their board, and mages who could feel the power of the place and desired a part of it. Hostiles who wanted to hurt the inhabitants and take from them.

Osric gave himself a rueful headshake. It was a marvel how quickly he’d grown accustomed to the otherworldly beauty of the place. What had been unbelievable the first time they’d come here had now become … expected.

As he approached the clearing where Talia practiced with the druids, Osric slowed his pace. He didn’t want to disturb their lessons, but he couldn’t resist watching for a moment. Talia stood in the center of the glade, her ‘concentration’ face in place as she wove intricate patterns in the air.

Osric leaned against a tree, smiling slightly as he watched her work.

“Caught you staring again,” a voice said behind him.

Osric didn’t jump. He’d gotten used to Grace’s idea of fun, sneaking around, getting close before she revealed herself.

“I’m just watching,” Osric said, not turning to look at her.

“Sure you weren’t,” she said, coming to stand next to him. “You’ve been ‘just watching’ a lot lately.”

“It’s not like that.”

Grace arched an eyebrow. “Whatever you say, Osric.”

Ignoring her, Osric turned his attention back to the clearing, where the druids were wrapping up their session. Talia lowered her hands, the light fading from her fingertips, and she wiped her brow, clearly exhausted from the exertion. As the druids began to disperse, she caught sight of him and waved, a tired smile on her face.

Osric waved back, feeling an inexplicable warmth in his chest. He could hear Grace snickering behind him, but he didn’t care. He felt … happy.

He knew it wouldn’t last. Once the document was translated, they would be back on the road, chasing whatever they had said would fix the vale. Assuming the Sage and Jasper were right about what it contained. He pushed the thought down. For now, he would savor these last moments of peace.

He approached the edge of the clearing as Talia made her way over, still looking a little worn from her practice but smiling nonetheless.

“Did you finish your training?” She asked.

“Yeah. I scored a hit against Rowan.”

“Really? That’s great.”

“He says I did it in a way that opened myself up to getting hit back, so … still more work to do. You look pretty tired.”

“It’s nothing. Just… stretching my limits,” she said, brushing a stray lock of her wild red hair from her face.

Talia had been pushing herself harder in this downtime than any of the rest of them. She’d always loved magic. He hadn’t even known his old friend was learning from Elder Miriam, but it had become clear on their adventure together how important it was to her. When she’d learned that she was damaging the world, the veil, every time she used magic, it had been a serious blow to her. So when she could learn how to use magic without damaging it, she’d jumped into her studies.

Pushing herself hard.

“You’re really getting good at this,” he said.

Talia laughed and said, “You say that every day, Osric.”

“And it’s true every day.”

She rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t hide the pleased expression that followed it. “It’s not just about weaving spells, you know. The real challenge is learning to be gentle with it. It’s all about precision. You have to feel their tension, their give. One wrong tug, and you could tear something, break something.”

“How do you know which... threads to pull?”

He didn’t really understand magic. Talia had tried to explain it to him, Elder Miriam had explained a bit, even the sage and Jasper. But Osric was more comfortable with steel and sweat than with pulling fire or whatever from the air around them.

“It’s all about recognition. Each type of energy has its own... signature, I suppose you could call it. Once you learn to identify them, you can start to manipulate them without damaging the overall structure.”

She demonstrated, her fingers moving in intricate patterns. For a moment, Osric thought he saw faint lines of light tracing her movements, but they vanished as quickly as they appeared.

See, if I were to just grab at the energy,” Talia continued, making a sudden grasping motion, “it would be like yanking on a thread. You might get what you want, but you’d damage the whole in the process.”

“I can barely wrap my head around it.”

Talia gave a shrug. “Well, I’ve had good teachers. The druids here, they understand magic in a way that’s so different from what Elder Miriam taught me. It’s like... they’re part of the weave themselves.”

“I’m still impressed.”

“Thanks,” she said softly, shyly grabbing one arm and looking down at the ground.

For a moment, they stood there in silence. Osric wasn’t sure what to say and apparently neither was Talia. Their moment was broken by a call from some of the stag folk, yelling at the three of them to come back to the Sage’s hut.

Talia and Osric exchanged a glance. It meant they must have done it. They must have translated the document.

Osric and Talia, followed closely by Grace, hurried to the Sage’s hut. Word must have passed, as many stagfolk were also headed that direction. Osric saw Valen, and realized that he was finally starting to tell some of the stagfolk apart. Something he’d never thought possible.

He was tired and a little sore from his training, but this was the moment he’d been waiting for, and pushed ahead, forcing Talia to keep up with him.

As they got to the cabin, the door burst open and Jasper came rushing out, probably having seen them through the window.

“You’re here! Excellent. Come inside. Come inside.”

Osric exchanged glances with Talia and Grace, the three of them amused by Jasper’s exuberance. The man could be a contradiction, sometimes deadly serious and other times jovial and giddy, without much care for decorum. He was quite unlike anyone Osric had met before.

Inside, they found the older sage seated at a desk in the small cabin, a chair next to him where Jasper had spent nearly every waking hour since their return to Avendell.

“We have indeed ‘done it,’“ the sage said, giving them a small smile as he looked to Jasper and then back to them. “Although I would temper Jasper’s enthusiasm somewhat. While it does tell us a great deal, it raises as many questions as it answers, as is often the case with such ancient knowledge.”

“But what does it say? Why did he want us to find this so bad? Why’d he send the ring through to the future? What did this guy expect us to do once we found it?”

Jasper looked to the sage, clearly excited to be the one to tell it. The sage gave him another smile, and then a small nod of permission.

“It’s a long explanation,” Jasper said, pointing to the few chairs in the room as Rowan came in to join them. “The man who wrote this document was a high master of the Calaphium, which seems clear to be some highly placed position. He oversaw something called the Nexus Tower, a place that… well, it controlled the flow of magic in Peridia. In a way.”

“Controlled magic? How?” Talia asked, her interest piqued as it was any time magic was mentioned.

“At the top of the tower, there was an artifact of some kind. He called it the Blackstar. It was a magic lodestone, drawing magical energies to it. It absorbed stray magical energies, loose magic, and redirected them into the veil, repairing the damage caused by the use of magic.”

“Wouldn’t that make magic less effective?”

“Probably,” the sage said. “Our records show these people who rebelled against the Calaphium, and caused it to fall, were mostly motivated by complaints that the Calaphium controlled magic. Limited its use. Some documents even indicated that they thought the Calaphium were making magic ‘worse.’ I’d always written that off to just complaints, finding a way to blame them for the veil crumbling, but it seems I was wrong. They were, indeed, weakening magic, pulling energies out and putting it back into the veil, which would make it harder to use the veil. Since when the more damaged the veil becomes, the easier it is to access its energies.”

“But it can help us repair the veil?”

“Yes,” Jasper said. “But it’s not that simple. When this man, this high master, saw what was happening, it prompted him to write this document. He was apparently in a unique position to witness the veil tear apart firsthand. Which is also where part of our problem comes from.”

“But if this thing was repairing the veil, how did it become a point where the veil tore apart?” Osric asked.

“When their capital, a place called the Great Citadel, was destroyed, it sent a wave of energy across the veil, creating ruptures everywhere. It caused the energy that normally pushed into the veil to push back, into this artifact. It destroyed it, breaking it into pieces, which released even more energies,” the sage said. “It, in effect, did the opposite of what it was designed to do. It became a focal point. The high master described it, the tower became surrounded by dark, malevolent realities that merged with ours, becoming stuck in ways we couldn’t predict.”

“Like the creature in the lake?” Rowan asked, referencing the monster they faced on their last adventure, that had become stuck in their reality, tortured by it.

“Similar, but it wasn’t a thing, but parts of the reality, all battling against each other to exist where they shouldn’t be,” Jasper said. “It allowed beasts to come through but not be torn apart like the creature in the lake. The high master wrote that these things, beasts from nightmares, things that haunted children, were all around the area, making it their home.”

He knew the remnants, the surviving higher orders of the Calaphium, had retreated deep into the Great Forest,” the sage said, taking over. “My ancestors, who would eventually form this part of the forest. He also had some contact with them, enough to know they were attempting to close the veil. But the high master was certain that their efforts were only a stopgap. He could see what was coming... their success would be fleeting at best.”

“But you told us they managed to close the veil when they established this place?” Talia asked.

“They did, but he knew it wouldn’t be permanent. With the Nexus fractured, they couldn’t strengthen the veil anymore. And they couldn’t make a new one. The Calaphium’s power had waned too much. It was only a matter of time before magic would once again wear down the veil, tearing it open as it did during the Great Rupture.”

“But he had all the parts, right? Could they repair it?”

“He doesn’t,” Jasper said. “When it broke, it tore open the veil and two parts of it flew through those openings. He knew they were somewhere in Peridia, but he didn’t know where and couldn’t leave his tower to find them. He mentions he’ll keep looking for them, but if he found them, there’s no way to know.”

“That’s why he sent the ring and the document,” Talia said. “It wasn’t just a warning. It was instructions.”

“Yes,” the sage said. “The high master’s only hope was to explain how the Nexus worked, how it could be reforged using the existing pieces, and that someone else not trapped like he was could find the pieces. Since he knew how dangerous it was to send something through a tear in the veil, he tied the document to the ring with a thread of the veil itself and sent both through, giving him two chances for the document to be found. If the document got through to my ancestors, fine. Otherwise, they could find the ring, which was bound to the document, leading them to it.”

“But the document got lost somewhere in the world, and the ring flew into the future. For me to find it in the forest,” Osric pointed out.

“True, it didn’t go as planned, but it did work. Just... a bit late.” Jasper chuckled softly, spreading his hands. “The ring led you to the document and it is now here, in the hands of their descendants.”

“So now what? Can’t we just... recreate this Nexus thing now that we’ve got the document?” Grace asked.

“No, I’m afraid not,” Jasper said. “The high master who wrote this document was only a caretaker, responsible for maintaining the Nexus. He wasn’t alive when it was forged and has no knowledge of how it was originally created. He only knew how to repair it once the pieces were found.”

“So, we go find these pieces and bring them back here to be reforged,” Rowan said.

“Partially,” the sage said. “Even with the pieces, the reforging will likely have to happen at the Conclave in Celestia. The kind of artificing required is beyond the skills of anyone here in the forest.”

Osric knew nothing about Celestia, the capital of Aeloria and to whom they all owed their allegiance as citizens of the kingdom, but it might have been located in the heavens. It seemed like a far-off and impossible place.

“So we gather the pieces, take them to the Conclave, and convince them to fix it,” Talia asked.

“Convincing them might not be as easy as you think, from what I’ve heard about them, but that’s a problem for later. Right now, our first task is finding the pieces.”

“And we do know the location of one of the pieces. Two disappeared into the veil, but one remained in the tower with the man who wrote this letter,” the Sage said.

“Except, we don’t know where the tower is,” Jasper added.

“So this was all... for nothing,” Osric said, sagging in the chair.

It had all been for nothing.

“Not entirely,” the sage said. “There is still a chance. But it will not be easy.”

“As opposed to how easy the rest of this has been,” Osric said.

“This will be difficult in a different way, and it will fall only to you, Osric,” the Sage said. “In the deepest part of the Great Forest, beyond where even the stagfolk roam, there is a place. A small pond, hidden from the world. Within that pond is a point where the veil is weakest. This place... it’s like my grove here, but far stronger. The energies are raw, wild. A place where the barrier between our world and others is thin, fragile. Unlike the rips in the veil, however, this one is controlled. Maintained.”

“Maintained by who?” Talia asked.

“The Veilguard. I think,” the Sage said. “It’s hard to communicate with them, so I cannot be sure I’m right, but I think they use this as a way to access our world more directly. Watch us. Follow us.”

“And what will happen when we go there?”

“You’ve been chosen, Osric. By the gods of the Veilguard. They have shown you favor before, guiding you, protecting you. In places like this pond, where the veil is thin, a direct answer may be possible. Or a type of direct answer. They might communicate with you. You can ask for their guidance.”

It was a frightening thought. He knew things were different now, that he wasn’t just a blacksmith’s apprentice any longer, but this. This was different. Getting that close to the gods was a terrifying thought. It scared him to his very core.

And yet, what choice did he have.

“Alright. I’ll do it.”