another short story
Betrayal and Hubris
:: Written by: Weaverchilde ::
Honor- Scene 1
The alley was empty, save for the cloaked figure. He stood motionless at the edge of the lamplight's glowing cone. The wind whirled about creating small tornadoes of debris and the night was a starless void of black.
"I feel you there," the man's deep resonate voice carried the weight of authority and surety "come out Fem Di'roth and let us finish this Transaction."
"Greetings" the crystalline singsong voice seemed to dance on the air. "I understand your scouts have confirmed my information." The shadows seemed to part as the tall Fem Di'roth took a step forward and his faint luminescent skin began to glow.
"Yes" Stated the cloaked figure "Now let us discuss your payment."
Shifting under the heavy folds of cloth, the shorter figure produced a blue-white sphere nearly twice the size of his hand. "The Nilhilam Orb, a very difficult item to acquire and one I see little use in your hands..." his last words bordered on accusation.
"A trinket, an oddity of immense beauty and intricate lore. We wish to study it and perchance understand, but this may now be insufficient" All the while he spoke, the serene smile never faltered and never gave way to another emotion.
Anger flared within the cloaked figure, the edges of the cloak began to float and take on the hues of blue-white light. Across the figure's body the pseudo-electric arcs of mystical energy pulsed into life and even his eyes, hidden deep with the hood, glowed the blue-white of magic. "I can not believe this," the commanding essence held within his vice boomed through the air. "This Relic is priceless; have you any idea how difficult it was to obtain it?"
"Yes" stated the Fem Di'roth; his chiming voice was filled with an eerie serenity as he continued, "I believe the Irkanin Academy will find it missing in the morning, there will no doubt be a full scale investigation."
The build up of mystical energy washed away from the cloaked figure, the shock of the Fem Di'roth's knowledge carried through into his voice "What?"
Tilting his head slightly, the Fem Di'roth's radiant skin grew in intensity and his smile deepened ever so slightly. "Though the deception is crude, the officials will be more then ready to believe that the Human Emissary committed the theft, rather then someone of your position."
The figure began to pull the hood of his cloak back "You know too much for your own good, Fem Di'roth" his weathered face revealed in the pale lamp light of the ally. The Magus was old, but in a way that defied knowing his actual age. His eyes were the radiant blue-white glow with no visible pupil, the effects of mystical study and self-experimentation.
"So I have been told Magus Khayiane" The Fem Di'roth's face was a mask of pristine diplomacy, unchanging and eternal. "The information previously told to you is still true, but there are new variables to consider. Such as Magus Bratux's offensive into the Southern Regions."
"The affairs of a fellow Magi are not mine to judge, save for those actions that jeopardize the Empire" The Magus retorted. Continuing with a disdainful chuckle, "Besides he is a minor Magi with little ability, at best he talks his enemies to death. This offensive he is proclaiming is little more then banner waving to bolster his political career"
The Fem Di'roth agent merely nodded his head stating, "Few truer words have been spoken, but just such actions are what we speak of." His arms spread wide and then inward with a gesture that ended with his hands locked together shaking slightly he continued "Such men often talk others into fighting for them and so remain untouched. In this case the Magus Bratux will take the field and assault the Southern Regions. It concerns your interest because he will attack the Troll encampment that is using the old dwarven mines. It concerns the Irkanin Empire only because he will fail."
Shaking his head Magus Khayiane replied. "The failings of my fellow Magi is of little concern to me, it will be one fewer fool to swell our ranks. Besides he..."
"Again I agree," interrupted the Fem Di'roth agent "but his actions will dramatically effect the Empire in ways that are unseen to us. We only know that the stabilizing force that is the Empire would be lost." The Fem Di'roth stood still looking into the eyes of the Magus and finished by saying "Or a hero could step into the way of fate and avert such a catastrophe."
"You exaggerate Fem Di'roth, Magus Bratux would have to be given an entire wing of Seraphim," the Magus chided "and then..."
The Fem Di'roth's unchanging stare gave the Magus pause. In an eternal moment, the two looked at each other and an understanding passed from one to the other without a word.
"Excellent deduction Magus, we had greatly under estimated your spy network. I had only learned of the 5 Seraphim promised to Bratux today."
"Now, I know that you lie Fem Di'roth," stated the Magus. "Each Magus may command only one Seraph. Such is the Law of Padishah," continued the Magus, but still he knew the information provided by the Fem Di'roth and his agents was never wrong.
The gentle smile was un-phased by the halfhearted accusation and his eyes never left the Magus' "We of the Fem Di'roth learned long ago that each person is their own Law, governed by strength of will and the ability to impose that will on others"
Magus Khayiane seemed unable to believe that any Magi would risk such an act. Stunned into silence he stated, "What you speak of goes beyond breaking a law, it is nothing short of civil war"
"Laws are a paradox, they are formed and continue to exist to instill order and peace, but they do so by stifling and condemning. Their very nature is oppressive and sometimes people find ways to see them changed" The Fem Di'roth spoke the words as if he had seen the events come to pass a thousand times.
"Bratux would never be able to purchase or build an entire Wing of Seraphim, I want to know who are his supporters are," demanded the Magus "I will see their heads on pikes to line the staircase to the Irkanin War Academy."
The Fem Di'roth replied with a voice that held both laughter and sorrow with the words he spoke "They remain hidden, cloaked within the Shadows of an Enigma, they are a riddle we long to solve." And as if to detract Khayiane from following his set course the Fem Di'roth continued, "You have missed the revelation; Bratux's offensive will fail. In fact, from the perspective of the Fem Di'roth, he already has."
The Magus stood there bathed in the pale lamplight, his face a mask of cold logic in motion. He knew that the intelligence of the Fem Di'roth was never wrong and that their predictions were often better then fact. His mind raced as he explored each possible line of outcomes, performing multi-level calculations and predictions the Magus' eyes darted back and forth, his inner eye searching through near-endless probabilities as they unfolded before him.
"The rebels will capture the Seraphim and you believe that they would be able to use them or worse, duplicate their construction." Magus Khayiane stood in shocked horror as the realization set in. The Fem Di'roth remained silent with his ever present smile. The Magus nearly shouted in a hoarse whisper "It must not be!"
"There is, of course, a matter of the payment" the Fem Di'roth said coolly "the Nilhilam Orb will only procure this information. Any further assistance will require a greater contribution."
Deceptions- Scene 2
The Assembly of the Irkanin Empire, held within the walls of War Academy, was in debate. Demi-Magus Oldus walked next to Magus Khayiane, late for the opening ceremonies their footfalls echoed through the empty quad.
"How do you plan to stop the offensive?" asked the near breathless Demi-Magus.
"Stop? How does one stop the tide of the ocean or the rise and fall of the moon in the sky?" replied the Magus "I will not stop such an action, I plan to only hinder it and ensure that the Empire does not fail with it"
"Well I'm sure that Magus Or-Tane has the other Councilors in a huff by now" commented Demi-Magus Oldus.
"He is one of my students after all," replied the Magus a small smirk of satisfaction crossed his face as they reached the huge doubles.
The Magus stood there and gazed up at the 15 feet golden colored stone doors; with a force of will the doors opened and the pair walked through in a rapid pace.
The Assembly was awash with voices trying to be heard over their neighbors. Magus Bratux hovered in the middle of the sphere shaped hall, a cruel smile across his face.
"Please, please, silence!" Bratux repeated, trying to hush the enraged crowd. While trying to hush them he secretly was pleased that he had brought the usually sober crowd of Magi to frenzy. "Salandi's Avatar is silent because WE have lost direction; his dream is fading while we argue. Surely you can look around and see why we must expand? We must push the limits of the Irkanin Empire to their natural boundaries."
The hall exploded in another wave of cheers and hisses as the Assemblymen argued with each over the fate of the Empire. The Nobles wished to only defend their borders while a new Padishah was chosen and then there was Bratux and his supporters who, wished begin a new wave of conquest.
"Dear Magus Bratux" the calm and diplomatic voice of Magus Or-Tane cut through the assembly, carried by a commanding magic that brought quite to the hall. "What would you have us do?" His young face was bright and filled with a personal delight at finally seeing his fellow Magi alive with motivation and emotion. "Conquer the Realm by grinding our forces into dust against our enemies?"
"Magus Or-Tane, your youth is refreshing, but with age and experience you'll find that sacrifices must be made to further the Empire. I know this will strain the limits of some provinces, but it will secure a greater and far lasting peace.
"No Bratux" snapped Magus Or-Tane, purposely forgetting the honorific of Magus "You speak of suicide, what order could we impose upon the Realm from our rubble filled graves?"
"My friends, Assemblymen, and fellow Magi" Magus Khayiane interrupted, hopping before Or-Tane's rashness took shape in a shouting match. "With the death of the Padishah, under somewhat questionable circumstance, we must show the people of Realm we are undaunted."
Magus Khayiane glided through the great hall, and stopped next to Magus
Bratux at the center of the assembly hall; each inch he moved, Magus
Khayiane hoped that Salandi's Avatar would awake and instill order. He imagined the awe-inspiring voice commanding silence, to give the floor to a single speaker and allow him to be heard. Events that have happened thousands of time before, the very order of civilization lay locked behind the curtain of silence the Avatar kept. In utter stillness, Salandi's Avatar stood there with his consciousness refusing or unable to respond or even acknowledge the debate raging on, a debate that could hold the Irkanin Empire together.
Finally the Magi came face to face, "Magus Bratux" spoke Magus Khayiane with the slightest of nods and gentle smile.
"Khayiane, I'm surprised you even made it," the acid voice poorly contained a knowing chuckle. Magus Khayiane held no illusion that this would most likely be the author of the assassination attempt against him this morning. Magus Khayiane held back rage and disgust as he turned to speak to the general audience.
"We are the body of the Empire, a physical form given a will of its own, but what of our Soul" waving his hand back towards Salandi's Avatar, "that perfect unchanging soul that we must remain true to. Now, Magus Bratux wishes to see the Empire expand and thus prosper, but at what cost?"
"A collection of broken bones and wasted lives is not an Empire, to even consider this course of action is to leave us no better then that deviant G'Koora Sect" shouted Magus Or-Tane, still fuming from being denied his verbal assault against Bratux.
With poise and focus Magus Khayiane continued, "Magus Bratux proposes the single largest offensive since Salandi himself, one which would leave many provinces defenseless. And what if he fails? The Irkanin Empire itself will be placed on the verge of collapse. And for what?" shaking his head Magus Khayiane continues, "We lack guidance in a most perilous time; we can ill afford a misstep of this magnitude. When, not if, the Avatar speaks, I for one would like to tell him that there is still an Empire for him to bestow his wisdom. So I say this: allow Magus Bratux his campaign, but allow only willing volunteers among the Assembly to join him. We can not begin to conscript our own as if they were Trolls and Goblins"
The Magi erupted in frenzied agreement, as the two Magi in the center circled each other their eyes locked and for that moment utter contempt passed between them. Magus Khayiane smiled and glided back to his lower seat near Magus Or-Tane.
"Well, Magus Khayiane if you were any more gifted as an orator I would pledge myself to you as the next Padishah." Magus Bratux spoke, his voice cheerful and winning smile beaming "Since my fellow Assemblymen have reached a consensus, I ask WHO will join me in subduing the Southern Region? This is our chance to reclaim our glorious Dwarven Birthright?"
Below Magus Khayiane and Or-Tane stood and watched the other Assemblymen, few seemed to move; each held firm resolve waiting for their neighbor to act.
"They would explode from the tension before making a move," commented Magus Or-Tane.
With a dry chuckle Magus Khayiane replied "Once you know how to motivate the Assembly to inaction, your enemies within must find few allies."
"It's a shame that Salandi outlawed the use of telepathy among our own, I would love to know what is running through his cunning little head right now." Looking up and shaking his head the Magus Or-Tane continued, "Will he ever end this rant?"
Magus Khayiane looked up to see that Magus Bratux had continued his speech of glory and natural expansion and innate supremacy to others within the Realm till many of the other Assemblymen were getting bored, but then as he finished his rant he spoke, "My fellow Magi, I will end my discourse by saying I will accept any volunteers, including the donation of here to untested constructs. I will then give each donor a full report of the construct's strengths and weakness in open conflict of a large scale." The Magus Bratux slightly bowed his head and began his descent to the lower seats.
"HA!" Magus Or-Tane mockingly laughed, "He is scrapping the bottom of barrel there"
"I would say shrewd," commented Magus Khayiane
"What?" asked Magus Or-Tane, "he is going after the fringe elements and offering them a chance to use experimental models in the field and before the testing board has finished with them no less. No, he will have made a couple of staunch enemies on the board now. It is nothing short of political suicide"
"Exactly, but he has gained supporters for no other reason for them to see their golems in the field of battle." Magus Khayiane shook his head in awe at the political maneuver. "There are more then a few young inventors that are frustrated with the bureaucracy of the Board of Testing."
Magus stood up and turned to the great door of the Irkinan Academy and glided out, muttering to himself "Shrewd indeed."
A Gathering Warhost Scene 3
The weather was beginning to turn; the oppressive heat was giving way to the cooling breeze that signaled the coming a rainstorm. The warhost continued its march as the thunder peeled overhead and heavy drops of water fell from the sky. Magus Khayiane watched from his command platform, hovering over the landscape, unseen by Bratux's Army below.
"We enter an unexpected phase of your training, Demi-Magus Oldus." With a wave of his hand the Magus activated a view screen within the command platform's controls.
"This looks to be images from within the warhost?" Oldus question
"Correct, several of Bratux's golems have been modified," chuckled the Magus
"Courtesy of a golem mechanic 'friend' no doubt?" queried Demi-magus Oldus
"And so Lesson One: always be kind to the underlings of those you despise" recited Magus Khayiane.
"While utterly ruthless to those under you," finished the Demi-magus "let fear paralyze them before the thought of betrayal can seed itself."
The Magus smiled, knowing the Demi-Magus knew all the Lessons of Tezla by heart "Correct."
"Why not expose Bratux to the Assembly?" asked Demi-Magus Oldus "They would stop this had they known he had an entire Wing of Seraphim"
"Yes" replied Magus Khayiane, "I'm sure they would, but that would only serve to drive his conspirators deeper into the shadows then they already are."
Looking into the view screen Demi-Magus Oldus saw the war host march with near endless rows of golems, turning to the Magus he asked "So this is not a bid to the throne for you?"
Magus Khayiane looked into the questioning eyes of the Demi-Magus and replied with controlled anger "What we do is for the glory of the Empire, the consequences of our actions are of little concern till we know that the Empire is secure." Shaking his head, Magus Khayiane continued "With the death of the Padishah, we must keep the peace until such a time that the Avatar is willing to choose a successor. We must put the needs of the greater good above the petty desires of other Magi and Nobles willing to defile the Empire for their own goals."
"A well drafted coronation address to the Assembly if I ever heard one," chided the Demi-Magus.
From their vantage in the sky the Magus and Demi-Magus watched the war host join with waiting golems at the city of Haresh. The golems fell in line with the warhost proper and the march continued. For three days the infantry and golems marched, never resting and never pausing regardless of the terrain, all along in the torrential rain common to the Southern Region in the spring.
"I see that the Free Tinkerers Society was able to contribute a few of their makeshift golems," commented Magus Khayiane as he stared into the view screen, watching from within the war host.
"A few?" gasped Demi-Magus Oldus "I see well over a hundred."
"Vulgar human loving rat-eaters," cursed the Magus "they hope a good showing will win them an Irkanin War Commission."
"Not likely, Bratux will no doubt use them as his first wave of shock troops," the Demi-Magus joked.
"Well" chuckled Magus Khayiane, "that might explain how this operation fails."
In a moment Demi-Magus Oldus met eyes and asked with deadly seriousness, "Can we be sure that the Fem Di'roth is right? We don't even know where he is getting his information. Look at that war host what could cause its downfall?"
"I thought you knew? Magus Khayiane asked. With a small laugh, reminiscent of a child opening a gift he said "That is why we are here personally."
Hubris Scene- 4
The war host had finally reached a valley, which leads to an Ancestral
Dwarven Mine shaft entrance. The infantry held their line and then the order was given, the golems charged up the steep roadway and battle was underway.
"I can not believe this," gasped Magus Khayiane, "he IS actually using those makeshift golems as shock troops." Below the makeshift golems lumbered up the roadway towards the mine, each step another blast from Troll musketeers ripped into the golden Dweomer armor plating of the golems.
"Those Troll muskets are shredding them," replied Demi-Magus Oldus. "How did he ever pass the tactical exams?" And with a wave of his hand the view screen changed to show the placement of troops within the landscape, reflecting on the layout the Demi-Magus continued. "He has them over powered and is throwing his men into a grinder, does he expect the Trolls to surrender the mine?"
"No, he expects his men to die" the voice came from behind the two men, a tell tale singsong voice filled the small enclosed platform. The Fem Di'roth Agent appeared out of the shadows, his skin giving off a slight glow and a serene smile held frozen on his face.
"The man is insane, he could be bombarding the fortifications with those Seraphim," The Demi-Magus's voice was filled with confused anger and a near blood lust.
"No, he is holding them back, waiting," the Magus muttered to himself. "Why let so many die for such a small prize, unless..."
The Demi-Magus retorted, "He is waiting for those retarded Trolls to shred his infantry."
"The Mine is more then it seems," the Magus replied
"He seeks failure," the Fem Di'roth stated matter-of-factly.
"Yes that is plain to see, but why?" asked the Magus.
"Well, at this rate he will have his failure and we will know why," stated Demi-Magus Oldus. Turning from the view screen to look at the Magus Oldus asked, "Are we going act? We must have the means to stop this needless slaughter that this madman has brought about with his power play?"
The Magus straightened to bring his head and shoulders to a more regal bearing, his voice took on a more grim and cold tone as he stated, "They die for the glory of the Irkanin Empire," then turning to face Demi-Magus Oldus, "Lesson Two: Every conflict is won or lost through the control of Information. No matter the outcome, the Empire will know what it needs to know to continue on as the greatest force in the Realm."
"Those that control the flow of information control the flow of society," commented the Fem Di'roth agent, "He who rewrites History need only worry about those who know the truth."
"With no evidence, or more importantly, no witness to the contrary how can one argue with the Victor?" finished the Magus as his eyes never looked away from that of the Demi-Magus.
"So you will see to it that all those below us die," asked Oldus as he shook his head in disbelief, "and then report back to the Irkanin War Academy that we arrived too late to stop the assault, but were able to prevent an even greater tragedy?"
"Yes," Magus Khayiane stated, "That is fairly accurate of what I have planned."
Below, the pace of the battle was slowing as the Trolls began to run low on ammunition and targets were becoming fewer to use them on. The three men stood at the view screen and watched as the last of the infantry was destroyed by the Troll Berserkers let loose form the Mine's interior fortifications.
"All those lives, wasted" stated a crestfallen Oldus.
"Death is a part of the cycle; it has its time and place." Stated the Fem Di'roth Agent, its immaculate voice never wavered, "it can never be avoided for long. It is the final step of this existence."
"A step that most men fear," interjected Magus Khayiane "and knowing what other fear is power, but the power to end ones life is an exercise of supreme authority."
"So the Authority of the Irkanin Empires grows in the death of its own?" Oldus asked his once youthful features, which beamed with naivety, were replaced with cold and callused lines of disgust. "Maybe the Trolls are not as retarded as I thought."
Ignoring the near traitorous remarks of Demi-Magus Oldus, Magus Khayiane stated, "Now, we wait to see Magus Bratux's supporters to appear."
The Betrayal- Scene 5
Almost on demand, the entrance to the Mine belched forth a viscous blackness and flooded out into the battlefield. The very stuff of shadows given solid form, it resembled a dark molasses given an unnatural speed and will. Engulfing Troll and Irkanin alike, the shadow tendrils began to dig into the bodies of the fallen, filling them till they were fat and bloated. The landscape below the command platform was void of features, only the undulating thrashes of the shadow rolling in upon itself could be seen.
The five Seraphim rushed towards the dark shadowy mass, the massive hover tanks seemed to take on a glow of their Dweomer plated armor. The blue-white flares of Mage-lightning erupted from the massive tank's head, unleashing a barrage into the dark mass. The Seraphim continued to move with ramming speed at the shadows, but as they hit the outer edge of the mass of darkness only Bratux's personal Seraphim passed into the shadow mass. The remaining Seraphim were held motionless in tendrils of darkness, slowing being engulfed.
"Great Salandi, what has happened?" exclaimed Magus Khayiane, shock and horror paralyzed his features. He watched in a daze as mystical energy shot out of the darkness only to be pulled back into the shadowy mass.
"Look, the edges are receding," observed Oldus. As the blackness was pulling back into its center those fat and bloated bodies were reveled, moving towards the remaining Seraphim.
"The Seraphim are silent," stated the Fem Di'roth. "Listen."
"If they are silent, what is making that noise?" asked a confused Magus.
The noise was a rumbling from within the ground, shaking and cracking near the entrance of the mine. The battlefield warriors tore at the now motionless Seraphim with tooth and nail; exposed bone and whips of sinew. Dweomer armor plates fell to the ground and the shadow filled warriors crawled in to seize the crews.
"It is a Lamprey," commented Oldus, "the Seraphim will be little more then empty husks, drained of life."
"A moment of defeat or another plot hidden within an enigma?" inquired the Fem Di'roth Agent, his face showed no surprise at the creature or the creation of an animated army now attacking the Fists.
"No, I think Bratux was double crossed in a ploy for power by his own
supporters," rationalized Magus Khayiane, forcing control and dignity to regain his composure; all the while his eyes never leaving the view screen.
"You think that the fool made a deal with the G'Koora Sect?" asked a bemused Oldus, his features darkening and his eyes taking on a glint of something sinister. The Mine entrance exploded with huge chunks of earth flying out, a moment later Darkness stood there. Oldus commented under his breath in awe, "Magnificent."
The Magus now looking to the Demi-Magus he had known for nearly two decades, astonished and disgusted, "What? It is an abomination." A near frenzy of fear washed over the Magus, "we must destroy it," shouted the Magus as he rushed to active the command platform's weapons.
"How does one destroy Negation?" Oldus demanded from the Magus, his eyes now a solid black and his skin gray with the pallor of death.
Stammering and confused at the changes in his student, Magus Khayiane said "Helios Bomb" and as the last word past from his lips he felt the blade. It slid through his back, slender and impossibly sharp, never touching the ribs and piercing his heart. Looking down at his chest and the glint of light coming off the blood-covered dweomer-steel the Magus began to giggle ever so slightly.
"When Bratux found the Mine too, I was a little worried" explained Oldus, "you see I put the Lamprey there in a Nilhilam prison when Salandi declared me rouge."
"And the Trolls?" gasped the Magus. Mystical energy danced over the wound still held open by the blade, trying to stop the wound from killing him. The Magus' mind forced his body to maintain his life, "And what of me, my 'good' friend?"
"I knew my wards would stop those pathetic Irkanin Geo-Scryers, but once the Mine was being used by the Trolls. Someone would notice." Oldus stated.
"Thanks to my Fem Di'roth allies," Oldus motioning behind the Magus, "You too learned of a rich source of unknown Nilhilam." Oldus' long dagger-like fingers spread wide, touching the Magus' head softly as he continued. "Besides, I needed someone to stop Bratux from getting the full support of the War Academy after he discovered the mine."
Slowly the fingers melted into the Magus's skull and a dark nimbus of energy vomited forth from Oldus' mouth and into the Magus. The Magus began to fill like a bloated tick, his eyes now pure black and his tongue on the verge out of his mouth. The body looked as if it would explode, but then the energies began to return to Oldus and the Magus was now being drained of his very essence. When the last of the energies returned to Oldus, a change had taken place that transformed him into Magus Khayiane. What remained of the true Magus could hardly be called a body, more a collection of bones held in place by taut skin and a mystical will to survive.
Grinning with his new face, Oldus leaned close to his former teacher and told him "I am the future," with a near maniacal giggle of excitement he continued, "the tragically 'defeated' army of Bratux will limp back to Shaka-Zal, and when at its very heart, the necrotized warriors will strike out. I will release the Lamprey on the very Irkanin War Academy that shunned me and those Seraphim will set the floating city ablaze." Stopping to reflect on his dream Oldus amended, "Except for the one that I'm giving the Fem Di'roth that is." And with a wicked smile, the newly formed Magus ripped his finders from the dry husk of a body. Still alive, the Magus looked at his counterpart and began to weep.
"Do not worry Magus Khayiane," spoke the Fem Di'roth Agent as he pulled his blade back with a sickening suction as it left the Magus' body, "your debt to us has been paid."