Wizard's Tower - Arc 2 - Chapter 33

After I had paced myself to lethargy, I took a hot bath with a glass of wine and a plate of cut pears. The events of the day had distracted not only myself but others from our meals. It was the small hours of the morning when I finally took myself to bed.

I woke around midmorning, and after dressing in my white robe with blue sunbursts, I found myself eating a late breakfast of roast flame boar and fried eggs. For some reason Chelsea had cooked an enormous helping of the eggs. It was likely an overage of the order, something that I had hoped my new seneschal would work out, but given this was the first instance since his hire I discarded the matter.

I had brought Walker’s tome with me to read again, looking to see if he identified where his orders came from. I knew that if this were a command from the king, then the order would be issued by a general of some renown though I wasn’t familiar with the modern generals. I wasn’t certain how long I had sat there reading a picking at my food, but I did notice when Lilly joined me.

She looked a little better, having caught up on some of her rest. Her face still looked gaunt, but most of the puffiness of tears had faded. Her eyes, contrary to yesterday’s despair, now had a glint of determination. As she sat down with her platter of only fried eggs topped with melted cheese and scallion slices, she smiled. It wasn’t a big smile, nor one of wonder or joy. A small smile, though, was more than I had hoped for any time soon. I closed Walker’s tome, and gave her a soft smile of my own.

“Good morning, Lilly. How are you today?” I asked softly and gave her a small smile. I knew she likely still hurt and would for some time, but I wanted her to know that she was cared for. I’d seen grief make monsters of people and didn’t wish it on my pupil.

“Good Morning, master,” she answered by rote, and then scooped a helping of eggs into her mouth. She wasn’t looking at me when she spoke, but her platter of eggs—which was fine. Her eggs did look particularly appetizing.

I waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts while she ate. It was a few rather large bites later that she seemed to reach some kind of decision.

“Master?” she asked.  This time she looked at me as she spoke. I nodded and motioned for her to continue.

“I know it isn’t fair to ask of you, but,” she trailed off as if searching for the right words. When they came to her, those words tumbled out like rocks falling, “But I want vengeance for Walker. They killed him. My brother is gone and someone should hurt for it like I do. It isn’t fair. Mirktal should pay.”

I nodded and took a bite of my own eggs as I thought. In part because I felt responsible for his death as well. I could have retained him as an assistant for longer. I could have trained him in a different field of magic. I could have dissuaded him from joining the army. I could have offer him better protection or warning. Guided him more closely. I could have bent to the king’s request. There were a thousand things I could see that if I had done just a little different would mean the young man would still be among us.

I wasn’t without responsibility here, nor without a feeling of guilt. Not that I would burden someone else with my emotions, nor was it the first time I had felt this way. I was more than familiar with the doubt that plagues one’s mind in grief, the questions one asks.

I was also familiar with the anger one felt, the desire to blame something or someone. My eyes had never left Lilly’s as I chewed, and hers had never left mine. It showed me that she was adamant about her request, and would more than likely do something foolhardy if I didn’t act on her behalf. With a small sigh, I sat my fork down and clasped my hands in my lap.

“Lilly, tell me what you know of Mirktal and their armies,” I commanded her, but with no hint of anger or reproach. An order said as simply as ‘pass the salt’.

Rather than answer me, she clenched her fork tighter and shoveled another huge helping of eggs into her mouth. She had chewed and swallowed half of them by the time she next spoke. I was slightly bothered by her lack of manners, talking with her mouth full, but now was not the time to admonish her for it.

“I know. They’re slaves and they have no choice but to do their masters bidding. Whoever killed Walker likely didn’t want to. But that makes it worse! They can’t all be slaves! Someone ordered his death.”

I nodded slowly, “Certainly.” Then I waited.

She kept talking, letting her anger out with poisonous words I dreaded to hear from any woman’s mouth. The sheer amount of vileness was appalling.  Yet I kept still and listened, waiting for her anger to run its course. When it seemed to finally fade, for now, she slumped forward.

With tears in her eyes, and hair hanging over part of her face, she grimaced in pain as she spoke, “Please. Do something. Anything.”

I had already planned on it, so Lilly’s request wouldn’t change anything. In fact, going into Mirktal again would serve several purposes. I had spells to test as well as the changes to the ring I fashioned. I could disrupt their armies and supply lines. If their armies were disrupted, then I could reduce the number of refugees coming this direction. I could relieve a portion of the righteous anger I felt. Adding relief for Lilly’s anger to all those things wouldn’t slow me at all.

I nodded and chose my words carefully, “Child, I swear those responsible for Walker’s death will suffer the consequences.”

The words at the forefront of my mind, the ones I didn’t speak, were that some of us already were paying that price.

Afterward, we made small talk until we finished eating and I asked her to follow me around the tower. There were several new residents and additions that she should be aware of. Many of those people were more surprised at my appearance without the illusion than they were at meeting the young lady. While she was normally outgoing and very pleasant, I think that she enjoyed the shift in attention while she still grieved.

I left her in the care of Rolf, Fin, and Jax as Jax discussed he and his brother’s experiment with the wolf pups. I knew that I should be spending this time with the young lady and watching her more closely, but I had also given my word to take action.

With that in mind, I advised my seneschal that I would depart shortly to return late this evening or tomorrow morning. It was only a matter of an hour later I had taken flight North into Mirktal with my gargoyles. I’d flown over the armies and battlefields at a height were few could see me and under the cover of an invisibility spell. The barony of Aide was indeed paying much of the price for the war, and several villages and towns were nothing but burnt husks.

When I reached the first town in Mirktal, the one closest to the border I stopped. It had been the first town I had visited on my raid for couches so I was more than familiar with its location, though seeing it in daylight made me appreciate the organized structure better. From above, the spiraling town and farmlands made for a scenic view.

With the shape and size of the town in mind, I began casting a spell that stretched nearly a mile beyond the town’s edge and encompassed the forests and plains that surrounded it. For nearly three hours I spent working my craft, pulling power through the ring to supplement my own. Night had begun to fall by the time I was finished and with the final word I released my spell to watch it in action.

At first, the ground shook and trees along the edge toppled. Next, I could see a crack form in the plains, a crack that spread in a jagged circle around the town. Then, it began to lift. The very earth rose up, lifting the town, the farms, the people, the spire higher and higher to the sky. I waited to the sides, both so I wouldn’t be close enough for any spellcasters to detect, and also to fully witness the effects.

When the spell was complete, I knew I had more work to do. The stone that lifted the city was fine, more than fine. It was a hardened granite that I doubted the hydra would be able to chew through if they tried. Yet, the top of the new plateau wasn’t solid. There, the earth slipped and fell hundreds of feet down from the sides in great clumps. The plateau had raised too quickly as well, leaving several homes and buildings with cracks. Even the spire looked tilted from how it stood before.

I took notes on the changes that would need to be made. Slowing the ascent was a minor change, though I would want to keep the first part of the spell that separated the new plateau from the rest of the ground the same so no residents would escape. The loss of ground at the top was worrying, but I planned to see about adding a wall around it. A few hours of altering the shape of the plateau in my spellcraft should be able to accomplish that. I wasn’t certain that any of the minor earthquakes that the spell caused could be mitigated, but I also added that just for good measure.

By the time my magic had recovered, I was already at the next town for the second test. The travel and the alterations to my craft had placed me here around midnight, and the cool breeze that normally came from the mountains felt chilly from this high in the air. Despite my irritation with the temperature, I cast the spell a second time. This time, it seemed to work perfectly. The town rose slower and lost none of earth at its top. Even the shaking was smaller due to the slowness it rose.

Still, I watched for places to correct or adjust. The wall holding the earth seemed to hold, for now, though I could see cracks in it that meant I should make it thicker. The townsfolk from the first town had panicked when theirs occurred, but these townsfolk seemed more amazed as they came curiously from their buildings. By the time I had finished here, it was almost dawn.

I stopped at the third town and debated for a few minutes whether to cast it now or come back later. I was tired and wanted to return to my tower. My mana had recovered, but the ring was too far distance from its source to use, which meant I would be using most of my mana for this. Yet, if I didn’t cast the spell tonight, Mirktal’s mages may develop some kind of safeguards against it.

It was ironic to think that any safeguards against my spells would be their doom when the Pestilence came, but what swayed my mind was that the nobleman over this town and his priest had offered me tea. They were a cordial pair, and didn’t deserve doom from the pestilence. Not that anyone deserved such a fate, but that my knowing them however briefly in such a good interaction meant I would regret not offering them some means of survival.

So, with that in mind, I cast my spell on the third town, and watched it rise for a quarter of the way. I wasn’t going to stay the entire time, but ensuring the spell worked appropriately was worthwhile to me. It was a pity I wouldn’t get to see the faces of the townsfolk as they realized that when the sun rose today, so did they.