Book 4: Prologue

Five thousand one hundred thirty-two years earlier …

The ceremony was brief but well attended.

The young woman’s parents and sisters had come to show their support, along with all the current members of the Mage Knights and several former members who’d been serving as instructors.

There were also a number of High Guard soldiers and quite a few young civilians Hera didn’t recognize—most likely friends of the guest of honor. Ariadne, if she remembered the name correctly.

Hera quietly greeted a few of her comrades, then stood at the back of the chamber, not wanting her presence to distract the attendees. Today was meant to celebrate the girl’s achievement. Hera had suffered through more than enough celebrations of her own in the weeks since the war had ended.

A wave of whispers rolled over the room when Bear appeared, lumbering in through the door and taking a seat on his haunches in the middle of the central aisle. He was too large to fit between the rows of chairs. Every soldier and knight in the room stood and bowed to him, but Bear merely let out a grunt and watched the stage intently, making it apparent why he’d come.

His presence, though unexpected, prompted the ceremony to begin. The new leader of the Mage Knights, Captain Thedan, inducted Ariadne into the order, the young woman wearing Hera’s own panoply and bearing her longsword.

The ceremony brought back memories. Hera had conducted it herself a dozen times in the seven years she’d led the order. Many of those recipients were dead now. The rest were with her in the audience.

It was strange to watch the proceedings from this end, and she felt naked without the equipment she’d borne for the past sixteen years. Unfortunately, mirrorsteel was expensive, and the enchantments used to construct a Mage Knight’s equipment were difficult and time-consuming. The order itself only owned a dozen complete sets, each of which was passed down from one bearer to the next. Hera was still considering whether to requisition a new suit of armor and a new sword from the shaper wizards and the enchanters. With the rebuilding efforts having barely begun, it might take years before her requests reached the top of the list, but wardens did have certain rights.

After the ceremony, she waited for the crowd of well-wishers to die down, then stopped the young woman before she could leave the hall.

“The armor looks good on you,” Hera said. “How does it feel?”

Ariadne’s eyes went wide when she realized who’d stepped in front of her. The two of them had only spoken once before. “Captain!” the girl said, standing up straight. “It adjusted itself, like the instructors said it would.”

Hera gave her a ghost of a smile. “Not a captain anymore, and that’s not quite what I meant. You wear it well, but how does it feel now that you bear the panoply?”

“Today was the first time I wore it in public. A woman came up to me and thanked me for ending the war. I had to tell her I wasn’t there.”

“You’re a symbol now. You represent something greater than yourself.”

“I promise I’ll bring honor to your blade, Captain Hera.”

“I’m sure you will.” Hera was about to take her leave, but then decided to ask a question which had been troubling her. “Why did you do it?”

“Do what, Captain?”

“You burned out your gift of wizardry, even knowing your elementalism was too weak for you to be seriously considered as a candidate. You had the potential to be a promising wizard, but you chose this instead.”

In the heat of a melee battle, every second counted. Mage Knights burned their arcane spells into their minds so they could cast them instantaneously and eliminate interference from metal armor, but it came at a steep price. They lost much of a wizard’s flexibility in learning new spells.

Ariadne had gone through the entire process, even though, in normal times, she’d never have been selected for the order at all. But the Mage Knights had suffered heavy losses during the war, and Ariadne was the last trained candidate left. Even now, there’d been talk about leaving one spot open, but the king had worried that doing so would show weakness at a time when they needed to project strength.

A flash of pain crossed the girl’s face. “My brother was stationed at Tir Nok when it fell. Heavy infantry.” There was no need to say what had happened to him. “I made my decision seven years ago, during the worst of the fighting. If the Mage Knights hadn’t chosen me, I would have joined the High Guard as a war mage. My abilities would have still been of use on the battlefield. A war mage doesn’t need a mirrorsteel blade.”

“And now that there are no more battlefields?”

“I will stand ready until I’m needed.”

Hera nodded. The girl was determined, at least. She was also a talented arcane mage … and an incredibly weak elder mage. She might make a good choice for Hera’s first bondmate. Her training to master one magic would help when learning the other.

But the war was over, and there was no need to rush into anything. Hera would have to get to know her first. It took effort and luck to find bondmates who could be tolerated as the centuries passed. Hera was a warden now—she had all the time in the world to make her choices.

#

The bright lights of the World Fountain livened up the courtyard, but they no longer held Hera’s attention as they once had. She hurried past and stopped along the totem walk just long enough to give Owl a quick bow. It was only a statue, of course, and didn’t respond, but today of all days, it seemed appropriate to pay heed to Wisdom.

The guards standing at the entrance to Fortress Central didn’t stop her, or even question her. They recognized her. These days, everyone seemed to recognize her.

In the council chamber, she started toward her normal seat before she saw Thedan already sitting there. Of course. Hera would be on the other side of the table now. A new chair had been added for her to the right of Demea, the next-youngest warden.

Youth was relative, though; Demea was over four hundred years old. Hera had to push down a quick burst of anger at that. Other than Thedan and Ephrenia, who were bonded to wardens, the remaining Mage Knights were quite young. The war hadn’t been kind to their numbers. The wardens—who’d almost single-handedly won the Second Demon War—had seldom placed themselves at risk during the Third. Instead, they’d allowed the High Guard, the Mage Knights, and sometimes even their own bondmates to fight and die in their place.

In fairness, Demea was no fighter, but after four hundred years, it seemed like anyone could have learned enough to be helpful.

Even Pallis himself, the greatest warrior the people had ever known, had seldom taken to the battlefield this time around. He’d insisted the wardens were working on something too important to delay—some new magic that would end the war, end all wars.

And then Hera and her Mage Knights had won the war for them, defeating Vatarxis and his lieutenants, while the remnants of the High Guard, bolstered by refugees from Tir a Tir and Tir Ankara, had fought the demon forces to a bloody standstill.

Hera hadn’t killed Vatarxis—she wasn’t even sure if that was possible—but somehow, after hours of single combat, she’d forced him to yield. She couldn’t help but feel he’d been secretly laughing at her while she’d insisted on the terms of surrender, but so far, he’d held to them. It had been nearly a month and there’d been no further incursions. The People had gradually begun to realize the fighting was finally over.

It had been a major embarrassment for the wardens, but when they’d announced that they’d learned how to control the Choosing and would be selecting a new member for their order, Hera herself had been the only choice the people would accept.

Some of the wardens had taken it with better grace than others.

She had to cease her ruminating when King Argyros called the meeting to order.

At the far ends of the table, two Sendings were activated. Boreas’s and Iris’s illusionary heads appeared, looking down at everyone else. The two wardens were away from Tir Yadar.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Argyros skipped over the pleasantries and went straight to the matters of the day. “What news of the refugees?” he asked in a tired voice. Fifteen years of war had aged him.

It was the seneschal who answered. “The Ankarans have begun returning west, but the Tirians are requesting further aid. Tir a Tir was razed to the ground. They have no foodstores and won’t be able to build sufficient shelters before the weather turns.”

General Straton frowned. “We’ve barely begun to rebuild Van Kir,” he said.

“We can spare ten shaper wizards,” Prince Lydos told him. “It’s either that or we need to try to find room for them all here.”

The king nodded. “What about crops? Can the elder mages speed up the growing cycle any further?”

“It would be difficult, Sire,” Demea said. “Most of the farmland in Van Kir is either already accelerated or it was ruined by the fighting. Perhaps with the Staff of Life …”

“The Staff would kill you, Demea,” Iris said, her voice coming through the Sending clearly, despite the haziness of her face. “What a pity that someone sent away all the druids.”

“You insisted on new forests for the vasta, Iris, and that’s what I gave you,” the king said. “It’s away from our own lands as well as any known demon incursions into Aravadora, just as you requested. You grew the damned forest yourself!”

“Yes, I wanted new forests. I didn’t want you to forcibly remove my people from their old ones!” The tree bond made it difficult for the elven people to show much anger, but Iris had been a warden for a long time. She’d learned from the best.

“What’s done is done. It got them away from the fighting, didn’t it? They would have died if they hadn’t been evacuated, and Tir Illia was the only destination that made sense. We’ll send the remaining archer companies over as soon as enough ships are available. Unless you want me to send them your way instead?”

“No,” she said. “Send them to their families. This island chain isn’t suitable for tershaya—the good soil doesn’t extend deep enough for the root system. I’ve already sent the Chosar fleet on ahead to investigate Target Two. That’s the big island the navy refers to as Paraido. My people will remain here a little longer to continue their study of the wildlife, in case you want to build your own colony here.”

After establishing Tir Illia and its surrounding forest for the elves, Iris had volunteered to lead a second colony expedition, this one ranging well outside the regions already claimed by the Chosar. She’d hand-selected colonists that weren’t needed for the war effort—young vasta who wished to see more of the world, and elven hybrids that weren’t comfortable living within the traditional confines of the forests.

“Donvar is between Targets One and Two,” First Admiral Myrrhine mentioned, a note of warning in her voice.

“Admiral Nereus assured me he would skirt around the continent, staying out of sight of land,” Iris replied. “The scourlings don’t have ships of their own, so as long as we don’t attempt to make contact, there shouldn’t be a problem. If the fleet reports that Paraido is worth investigating, my teams will join them there. Otherwise, we’ll continue on to Target Three. Once we find a good location, I’ll return for the Staff of Life. The tershaya saplings we’re carrying won’t be enough to grow a new forest.”

“The Staff will be waiting for you,” the king said, but he didn’t look happy about it. “Now, can we get back to the refugees?”

Zachal stood. “The human tribal council wishes to make a formal complaint,” he said. He was the only human among the wardens, and thus the only human on the council. He often got stuck speaking for his people even though he had no official position among them. “When the fighting reached Van Kir, the tribes weren’t permitted to retreat inside the city, even though the Chosar who live in the outer city did so.”

The king glanced almost imperceptibly at Pallis before replying. “The city was already inundated with refugees,” he said. “If the fighting had drawn close to Tir Yadar, I would have let them in, but as long as they were safe outside, there was no reason to overcrowd the city. Captain Hera—I’m sorry; Warden Hera—stopped the demons well before the tribes were in any danger.”

He inclined his head toward her. Whatever the wardens thought of Hera, the king had made his gratitude clear.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Not from the praise, but because there was an undercurrent going on that she didn’t fully understand. It wasn’t an accident that Zachal had spoken immediately after Iris. More and more, those two presented a unified front, despite the difference in their ages. Iris was one of the older wardens—she’d fought in the Second Demon War two thousand years earlier, along with Pallis, Boreas, and Arodi. Those four often acted as if they were above the others, but Hera couldn’t remember ever seeing Iris or Pallis address each other directly. The elven woman was still friendly with Boreas, and she agreed with the wardens’ new plan, but outside of that, she’d grown distant from the older wardens.

It had become more apparent recently. Iris’s unhappiness had increased the more she’d learned about the forced evacuation—an evacuation that hadn’t started until after her new expedition had set sail. Immediately after, if Hera remembered correctly.

But what did Iris expect? The humans and elves always complained about how they were treated by the Chosar, but they were primitives, dependent on The People to guide and protect them. The war had proven that yet again, with the Chosar having taken the brunt of the fighting in nearly every engagement with the enemy.

Still, something felt different now. With the danger over, there were cracks showing in the ancient alliances between the three peoples.

The king moved on to the next topic. “How’s the situation in Tir Navis?” he said to Boreas’s Sending.

“The rebellion is over. The human hybrids sued for peace once they learned the war had come to an end and that a warden had been sent to deal with them. They’ve agreed to go west, and to stay out of Chosar territory for all time. All other humans in Tir Navis have been expelled along with them.”

“But the Chosar hybrids haven’t caused any trouble?” the king asked.

Tir Navis was one of the oldest settlements across the sea, and in the centuries since its founding, a portion of the population had interbred with the human tribe that had accompanied the colony.

“Of course not,” Boreas answered. “Our people are designed for it.”

Hera furrowed her brow. That statement didn’t make any sense. From the looks around the table, she wasn’t the only one confused.

Argyros just nodded. “Good. Then let’s move on. I’d like to postpone our regular topics until our next meeting, so we can discuss the real reason we’re here today.” He pointed to Pallis, who stood.

“As you know, we’ve been designing a ritual to combine the four sources of magic into one,” the First Warden said. “We raised Captain Hera because the ritual requires eight wardens to anchor it.”

General Straton snorted. “Your ritual’s coming a little too late, don’t you think?”

Pallis glowered at him. “The war may be over—for the moment—but there are other reasons to continue our work. For the first time, mortals will be able to wield demonic and totemic magic. We’ll be able to defend ourselves against future demonic incursions. When we’re in dire need of aid, we won’t have to hope that one of the totems happens to notice.”

“I don’t like the idea of using the demons’ magic,” Prince Lydos said. “Especially with the war just over.”

“A tool is just a tool,” Arodi said in that irritatingly perfect voice of hers as she pushed a strand of long, blonde hair behind one of her delicate ears. “What matters is the intention of the one who wields it.”

The prince gazed into her eyes and nodded. Arodi seldom had trouble convincing a man of anything.

“If you can create new wardens now, why not just turn all mages into wardens instead?” Straton asked.

Pallis stared at him expressionlessly long enough that people started to fidget. Finally, he said, “We’ve learned to select those who will be chosen. We can’t just create more wardens out of nothing. The choosing spell takes hundreds of years to build up enough power to activate a warden, and then it waits until someone comes along who matches its criteria—criteria known only to the original creators. But they couldn’t see the future, or know what our needs would be, so now we can choose the warden who will serve our people best.”

That was mostly true, Hera knew, but she was skeptical about the details. The wardens guarded their power jealously. Serving a warden was the only way weaker mages could remove the limitations on their abilities, and controlling that much magic gave the wardens a great deal of influence among The People.

Hera herself had never had any reason to seek out the bond; she’d been born unusually strong in both elder and arcane magic. Becoming a warden hadn’t changed much for her other than the promise of a long lifespan. It was her bondmates that would be her true contribution to her people. Just as soon as she figured out who to choose.

Gaiana, the king’s consort, spoke up. “How, exactly, is this going to work?” she asked. “We’ll just wake up the next morning and … what?” A powerful enchantress and shaper wizard, Gaiana had repeatedly expressed concern about the plan.

Arodi said, “Where once there were four sources of magic, there will now be just one, a mix of them all—and abilities that were formerly out of reach will now be possible. Of course, you’ll still have to take time to master your new talents. We suspect it will be more complicated to learn spells that would have once fallen under the purview of demonic or totemic magics, since none of our people have experience with those.”

“And spells that merge the magics together?” Lydos asked, almost eagerly.

“Remember,” Pallis said, “when we’re done, there will only be one magic. Those spells will, in theory, be possible, but we can’t say for sure how they might work.”

“Hopefully they’ll be less restrictive about it than the Staff of Life,” Demea muttered.

“Perhaps,” Pallis said. “In any case, we’ll be ready tomorrow. Provided, of course, that our newest member thinks she can manage it.”

Hera ignored the snide comment. Mage Knights were notoriously bad at ritual magic due to the way they burned out their gift of wizardry, but that didn’t matter because her role in the ritual involved elder magic rather than arcane.

“I know my part,” she said.

“A word of caution,” Allos said, raising a finger. He was in charge of the research laboratories, and had done the bulk of the work in designing the ritual. “We don’t know how the spell will impact those who can already wield both arcane and elder magic. We’ve sent the others away from the city, but the Mage Knights, of course, must remain here. Captain Thedan, we’d like you and your order to go into stasis for the duration of the ritual. Once it’s complete, the danger will be over, whether we’re successful or not.”

The warning applied to Hera as well, but she’d already agreed to accept the risk.

Thedan nodded, likely having already heard about it from Pallis. “Understood, Warden.”

“Whether you’re successful?” Argyros asked. “I was assured there wouldn’t be any more failures.”

“There’s never a guarantee for something like this,” Allos said, ignoring Pallis’s frown and subtle headshake. The younger warden liked to talk about his research. “There are still things we don’t know, like why we need eight wardens to perform the ritual rather than seven. But we’re optimistic about our chances this time, and we’re ready to move forward.”

“Then proceed.”