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10 — Whispers of War
🕑 Added 2022-01-01 16:09:01 +0000 UTCIrwys SIlveran was in a bad mood. A frequent occurrence, ever since he’d met the new Mark. The [Royal Knight] walked through the guild pathways, keeping his frown in check as he passed by the dozens of adventurers that crowded every inch of the guild in recent days. He’d failed to anticipate just how many people would rush towards the city at the barest sniff of the new dungeon branch.
“You should know how adventurers are by now, Irwys. The chance of being the one to reach the depths of a new branch are enticing enough to shake the entire continent. And with what’s inside the dungeon, I can’t say I’m not tempted either.”
Irwys continued to walk without missing a step as the prince spoke to his mind. Fate magic had multiple applications, including long distance communication that would normally only be associated with mind mages, and prince Laiken was one of the strongest Fate practitioners he had ever seen.
“Your highness, perhaps it would be best to delay such talks till a more suitable chamber can be located? The guild lacks proficiency in divinations, but they aren’t incompetent and these are not topics to be discussed so freely,” Irwys replied smoothly, taking a left through the corridors. He didn’t find the many twists and turns of the building appealing.
“Oh? You think they can breach through my defenses? I’m surprised you think so highly of them. And even if they overhear what I have to say, what are they going to do? Stand the crown prince of Zandria on trial for talking to his [Royal Knight]? Who dares! I’ll have their heads!”
Irwys stiffened for the barest of moments at the words. He resumed his gait soon after, ignoring the harpy donning mage robes that walked past him, giving him the side eye. He wasn’t used to seeing so many other species around within a single city. Zandria rarely had anyone besides humans, trolls, and griffins, and only one of the three could talk.
“Please don’t fool around Your Highness. The council is gathering,” Irwys sent back, adjusting the sword at his waist as he reached the door of the council room.
“Fates, you’re so stiff Irwys. Have I told you that? I think I’ve told you that. You really need to loosen up one of these days.”
Irwys pressed his hand against the door, entering inside as he ignored prince Laiken’s antics. Inside the chamber were the three guild heads nearby. Irwys recognised them from the few meetings they’d had discussing the Marks and the pact, yet this marked the first time he’d seen all three together. He briefly glanced at the woman seated nearby wearing a high cut dress from the eastern kingdoms outside the continent of Zweiril. A rare fabric called Poison-silk. Irwys noted her to be the Valencia, the crafting guild’s head.
The guild heads each turned to regard briefly, greeting him with a light nod, as they continued to pour over a map of the Allied territories, marking the movements of the tribes.
Irwys regarded each of the guild heads briefly, noting the nearby seated mark of Valor alongside the [Head Priest] of the church of Sera. He nodded his head briefly as his eyes met each, quietly noting the absence of the Mark of Life.
“I would be really surprised if the church let the Mark of Life appear for something as trivial as the invasion of a city. With her role and her class I still find it surprising that we got her to agree to our pact.”
“Knight Irwys? Please,” one of the guild heads said, gesturing for him to take a seat. Irwys followed the old and portly Mage’s instruction, taking a seat.
When he had first arrived at Lienmont, he’d expected more ferocity from the man dubbed the False Archmage. Instead, the [Mage] felt like the spitting image of a kind uncle with his unshaven beard and clean bald head that curled his eyes in soft wrinkles.
“Not great to judge a book by its cover. Unless you’re me. Then you can. And, regardless of how the Magus Peiross may appear to be, that man is still one of the top 10 strongest [Mages] on Zweiril. Well, at least among the ones we know are alive anyway.”
Irwys adjusted his opinion of the man.
“Has the Prince found anything of note on the demons?” Guild head Zaress asked, as a pair of bright blue eyes turned his way. Where Magus Peiross was a soft and kind figure, guild head Zaress was a Wyvern turned man.
“Yes! I’m so glad you asked! I’m pretty sure there’s at least a dozen near the outer ranges of the city itself, and a few more inside the dungeon, but hey, can’t tell you that. For all I know they might be listening to this-”
Irwys cut the communication thread off.
“There have been no notable movements amongst the demons so far on any of the Alliance borders. There have been reports of shadow and dark elemental spirits and wraiths, yet no direct relation to the invasion can be found. There have been several reports of potential demon sightings, but no one has managed to verify one,” Irwys sent back, causing Valencia to click her tongue.
“Frustrating opponents. Either the demons have the strongest obscurification spells and wards I’ve seen yet, or someone is interfering with the reports. I’m not sure which I find harder to believe,” Valencia said, crossing her legs. Irwys briefly caught a glimpse of the needles weaved within the hem of the women’s dress.
“She is the youngest guild head to take her position throughout all the guilds within the alliance in the last seven decades or so. From what I recall her class was [Minstrel of Threads]. Still under level 50, but not by much. Weaving steel threads of poison-silk sounds just about right for someone like her.”
Irwys’ eyebrows twitched, as the prince nonchalantly spoke to his mind once more establishing their connection single handedly.
“Oh don’t praise me too much. It wasn’t too tough to force a one way thread, our fates are just that intertwined my dear Knight.”
“I’ve sent scouts to track the Ostiri,” Guild head Zaress said, his eyes scanning the map. “There are caravans of traders moving towards Lienmont as usual. I don’t see any army that might be heading here. The amount of land they have to cover to even reach the city makes me wonder if the girl was lying.”
“Irwys. Relay my words. This is important.”
Irwys was surprised by the sudden change in prince Laiken’s tone, but smoothly stood up and followed his instructions.
“Price Laiken would like to speak something,” Irwys said as threads of fate snapped into place, and Prince Laiken spoke, now from the mouth of his knight.
“She isn’t. The Ostiri curse is mutating, reaching outside the Ostiri desert after centuries. I’ve gotten reports of unborn children having mutated limbs, and odd features at birth. The number of stillbirths in the last three to four months has been the highest since the Great Fell. And this isn’t limited just to the Ostiri. Even the lizardfolk to the south west have been affected,” Irwys paused as the Prince stopped speaking. The guild heads frowned.
“May Sera’s grace guide us, why would the curse target children?” the high priest spoke up, turning to look at Irwys.
“It’s death magic,” Laiken said, through Irwys. “Or something worse. Unborn lives are the most susceptible to these things, and they tend to form the first of the casualties. If it continues… it may be worse than the Great Fell.”
“That can’t be. Are you truly saying that this event is stronger than the Tier-11 curse of an Archmage?”
Guild head Zaress raised his hand, interjecting. “While I’m aware that it is highly unfortunate to have such a thing happening. This at best serves to give hints towards why the Ostiri may have moved at all, and not on how to prevent them, or prepare for a war against them.”
“There is more,” Irwys continued as the prince spoke up once more. “Not only has the curse spread outwards from the desert, the curse itself has worsened. Beasts are mutating at a far faster rate than ever near the desert. The Ostiri are facing a plague that is eating at them from the inside. Children are dying before birth, the inhuman mutations on the Ostiri themselves are spreading faster and faster, and turning monsters into abominations. Are you still failing to see what I wish to say, guild head?” Laiken spoke, from Irwy’s mouth, as the knight’s eyes shone a misty silver.
“The curse of the Ostiri has been confined to it’s desert cage for centuries now. But if it’s waking up, we have a lot more to worry about than just the displaced and dying tribe’s invasion. They might be rising from their graves,” prince Laiken spoke, as the threads of fate receded from Irwys, the glow within his eyes dying.
The chamber sat in silence at his words.
“Summon the war council and start the communication array,” Guild Head Zaress spoke at last, and Valencia’s head snapped towards the man.
“Are we really—”
“There is no time,” the guild head growled, cutting her off. “A war is coming. A war we have to fight one way or another. The council was happening today one way or another. All I've done is spare us the days of debate and arguments before they began to prepare for war. Days we cannot afford now,” Zaress said, lifting himself from his chair.
“Prepare the meeting chamber and get the girl, we'll need her to testify,” the guild head said, as Viel moved out to follow the orders.
Zaress stood silently, lightning crackling around his hair as a heavy aura set upon the room. The mana shivered, crackling like thunder clouds under the man’s weight and Irwys felt the weight the guild head’s name bore. The weight of the Storm Blight.
With a heavy sigh, the guild head folded the map as he turned to stare at Irwys with his bright blue eyes. “I know it is foolish. And yet, against all odds and proof, I hope that you and the girl are wrong,” Zaress said, walking out.
Irwys stood silently, watching the guild head’s back. A moment later, his prince whispered.
“Me too, Zaress. Me too.”
***
Jennifer stepped into the guild, walking through the entrance section filled with adventurers of all ranks surrounding her. Just two weeks ago, she’d felt extremely out of place, walking among so many adventures laden with a multitude of weapons. Now the thought barely came to her mind as she stepped past the reception desk and headed towards her training chambers.
She summoned a light ball around her palm, floating it without even the barest of thought. A little shard of glass accompanied it, flying in circles around her palm. Alongside practicing her glass spell, she’d continued to work on the light shaping exercise. It had been a painful and frustrating endeavor with constant failure so far, but for some reason Jennifer had found himself unable to quit. At least I can summon around half a dozen light balls now without even a thought. Interesting how that ability carries to my ability to summon glass shards too.
Today was supposed to be her rest day so that she could recover naturally without potions but she’d been called by Nathaniel all of a sudden. The past two weeks of training with Viel had left her battered both physically and mentally despite the many potions she’d been fed.
Gently, Jennifer rubbed her abdomen, feeling the tight muscles within that had started to show some definition. She’d never been too thin or skinny, but neither had she put on any kind of muscle before this point. It still felt a bit odd to see such a massive difference in just two weeks of training, but she couldn’t deny the results. She felt like a different person, even to herself.
I wonder what Rumina will think when she sees me using Tier 2 spells without much effort. Or when she sees me waving a sword around and actually knowing how to use it for once.
Her lips curved up as she imagined Rumina’s expression, but the thought didn’t last. It had been almost two weeks since she’d first joined the guild, and Jennifer hadn’t spotted Rumina anywhere in those two weeks. She wondered if her friend hadn’t taken everything with the same cheer she always used to.
Maybe I’m too nonchalant about everything. I’d just told everyone of an oncoming invasion and then hoped they would believe me without any further explanation. I didn’t even tell Rumina the whole truth.
Jennifer felt guilt creep into her heart. She knew she was avoiding the conversation with her parents. She didn’t want to tell them that she hadn’t been there when the invasion happened. That she didn’t even know if they had survived or not.
I should probably talk to them. Dad, Rumina, all of them.
The thought still intimidated her. She’d broken down in front of her master, and she was glad she had. Yet, a part of her still wished to simply keep things the way they were. To pretend as if the invasion she warned everyone about wasn’t real. To deny that she’d ever truly died. She'd been having nightmares, and while she could only vaguely remember them, but in almost all of them, she had been there in the burning city watching the sand swallow it whole. Watching, as everyone she loved, had been reduced to dust.
With grim thoughts filling her mind, Jennifer headed towards the chamber she’d been asked to be in by Nathaniel. She hoped there was some new magic theory waiting for her. It’d help keep her mind off the darker thoughts that plagued her silence. She walked up to the chamber and opened the door.
A woman sat inside the room, and Jennifer froze upon noticing who it was.
Anghul sat nearby, lounging with her legs up on the table and a bored look on her face. She held a half eaten apple in her hands as her pitch black eyes turned towards Jennifer.
Jennifer wondered if she was in the wrong place.
“Stop gawking like an idiot and sit already,” Anghul spat, munching on her apple as her eyes remained fixated on her. Jennifer could never tell where the woman was looking with her eyes like pits of darkness.
Closing the door behind her, she headed in as she took a seat nearby. She hadn’t interacted much with Anghul during her time in the guild, and she wished to keep it that way. At least the woman hadn’t gone out of her way to bother Jenn.
The seconds passed painfully slowly as Jennifer sat in awkward silence. Anghul continued to eat munch on her apples, and after the fifth one had come out, she was starting to think the archer had some problems.
Within a few minutes, Jenifer found her mind wandering and her patience began to thin. She would’ve been fine all by herself, but seated next to the archer with her aura nudging her every so often, Jennifer found it difficult to sit silently.
“When’s Nathaniel going to come?” she spoke up, turning towards Anghul.
“Don’t know. He’s managing the link arrays and some depth damned mage things, whatever they use to gather the council in a hurry. Now stop flapping your lips and leave me some silence,” Anghul replied, taking another bite from her apple.
“You could’ve said that more nicely,” she said, clenching her fist. She was starting to feel a bit annoyed at the constant antagonism shown by the archer.
The archer turned towards her. "Oh? Speaking up now are we?" Anghul said, uncrossing her legs.
“Yes, because I was content to just let you be, but now I have to sit here and listen to all your insults. I don't get what your deal is. Ever since the start you've been antagonizing me, and even my Master. Sera, I don’t get it. What’s your deal?”
The archer stared at Jennifer, as the apple in her hand vanished with a flicker of mana. Two pits of black eyes turned towards Jennifer and suddenly the room began to seem a lot smaller.
"You want to know what my deal is?” the woman asked, anger rising in her voice. “My deal is the fact that you are weak. We need allies not children to babysit within the depths. You brought the call of a war. Do you know what this means?" Anghul spoke as her aura flared. “I will head out and kill my own tribe. I will tear through my very own people, because of this war that has come upon our heads. Because of the war that you brought to us,” Anghul spat as Jennifer felt the room darken for a moment as wisps of black rose from the archer's eyes.
Jennifer stared at the archer, failing to gather her words. “The war… is not my fault. I did not ask anyone to do this. I… hate it too. But I’m sorry to hear-”
“Don’t say you are sorry,” Anghul growled. Jennifer felt her hair rise on her arms.
“Do you know what you are sorry for? Do you understand it? My parents had sold me, thrown me to the [Slavers], and even they had no use for a burden. I was blind, motherless, and a cursed child. If the caravan was attacked, I would be the first to be fed to the monsters. I was dead weight, and I lived each moment under that weight. Do you know what happens to the children whose curse leaves them disabled? Their parents slit their throats to spare them the suffering their lives would be. But mine lacked the spine to do so, and I paid the price.” Anghul scoffed.
“In a way, I’m thankful that they were such cowards. Because of them I got to prove my worth. Earn my class and gain eyes even harpies would envy. I fought, and fought and fought each step of the way to be free of that dreaded place. To never have to face them again. I fought for so long that I forgot what I fought for anymore. And it resulted in what? This? Seething sands," Anghul cursed.
Jennifer stared silently, feeling a lump rise to her throat. She’d heard stories of the nature of the Ostiri curse and how harsh the deserts were to the people within but she couldn't have imagined it was this harsh. She continued to look at Anghul, finally understanding why the archer had shown such antagonism towards her. She had been blaming Jennifer.
“I… you are right. I don’t understand. I could never understand,” Jennifer said, clenching her fist. She looked up, and met Anghul’s eyes. “But the war is not my fault.”
The archer towards Jennifer, her frown setting deeper on her face. The woman turned away with a click of her tongue as her aura receded. “I know,” Anghul said in a quiet voice. “I know this isn’t your fault. I know. But what in Elphion’s name do you want me to do? Put on a smile and pretend that this isn’t real?” the archer turned to face Jennifer, her brows set in a frown.
“There is a war coming. A war where I will fight those depth damned people tied to my cursed blood and kill them all. We need allies, more so than ever now,” Anghul said, her pitch black eyes meeting Jennifer’s. “But all we got for it is you,” Anghul said, as the room descended into heavy silence.
Jennifer remained seated, her chest rumbling in turmoil. I did not ask for this. I did not ask for any of this. The Mark, this war. I should be in the academy, learning Enchanting, trying to grow so that I could heal my dad. Why am I here?
She found no answer.
“Hey! Sorry it took so long! Oh hey Jenni, you’re here already. Great, let’s head out then, and Anghu-” Nathaniel paused, looking at the archer. His gaze returned to Jennifer who looked down at her hands, feeling an odd sense of guilt.
Anghul got up from her seat, brushing past Nathaniel as she headed out. “I’ll be there,” the archer said on her way out.
Nathaniel turned back to look at Jennifer, his face stuck between a wince and an awkward smile. “I’m so sorry about Anghul-”
“No,” Jennifer interrupted. “It’s alright. It was partially my fault. I got annoyed,” Jennifer replied, as she got up from her seat. “Are we beginning training now?”
“Ah, actually, no. Do you know about the council coming here?” Nathaniel asked.
“I heard Anghul mention it. Council of who?” Jenn asked.
Nathaniel winced. “Guess I forgot to mention. There’s been a change of plans. The council is… the council of the Alliance. The war council is gathering Jennifer, and you have to appear in front of them.”
A few moments passed in stunned silence, before Jennifer’s mind finally caught up to Nathaniel's words. If her heart could’ve leapt out of her chest, it probably would’ve. With a deep breath, and the calmest voice she could muster, she spoke up.
“I’m appearing in front of who?!”
***
It had taken a while for Jennifer to calm down, and a while more for her to accept what she’d heard as reality as she’d been escorted to the meeting chamber by Nathaniel. She recalled her father mentioning the time he’d begun working in the mage guild all those years ago, and had been greeted by one of the guild heads. He’d laughingly mentioned how the man was likely going to be the most important figure he’d ever meet in his life.
She eyed the same man standing within the chamber, accompanied by the other two guild heads on both sides. A [Priest] stood nearby as well, alongside Irwys, Viel and Anghul. Jenn wondered what her father would think, if he was here.
“I don’t think you need to be nervous,” Nathaniel said, his voice echoing in Jennifer’s head.
Jennifer turned around in surprise, her eyes wide. She glanced around the room once, before turning to Nathaniel. “Telepathy?” she whispered.
“Yup. It’s quite a nifty skill to have. I’ll teach you some day. It isn’t all that tough once you get the hang of it,” the mage said with a wink, as he patted her shoulder.
Jennifer realized Nat’s attempt at distracting her, and she had to admit it’s success. Her mind was now full of potential ideas and utilization of mind mage or how she would even learn such a complex and rare spell.
If that even was a spell. I didn’t sense any mana at all.
Jennifer had thought of herself as being quite good at magic. She was no comparison to noble bloodlines gifted with secrets and resources from childhood but she was still quite proud of her own abilities despite not having none of the resources. Yet, her worldview had flipped over entirely the more time she spent with Nathaniel. The ease and perfection with which he executed his magic left her baffled. It made sense, seeing how he was a Gold Plate and had years of experience over her, yet the thought did nothing to ease her burning desire to match up to him.
Ten years. I may not have that amount of talent, and I may not have his resources. But I have time. I can do this. Also prevent the invasion while I’m at it.
Jennifer had tried not to fixate on her abilities. She never knew which death would spell the end of her, but the thought had refused to leave her mind. Taking a breath, she let the idea go for the moment. It would do her no good to be so competitive, there were other things that demanded her attention right now.
Feeling a bit more calm after a couple of breaths, Jennifer took a look around the chamber she was present in. It was a simple chamber, carved in the same white stone as the rest of the guild, but Jennifer could sense the layers of mana that ran through the walls. She’d passed through some heavy wards on her way.
“Set up the communication array Nathaniel,” Zaress said to Nathaniel, before turning around. “If everyone is here then close the chambers. The alliance will be trying to establish a connection soon. Help him if you would, Peiross. I’d rather no delays happen.”
Nathaniel nodded, patting her shoulder one last time as he walked ahead. Jennifer spotted the Mage guild’s head, Peiross Varlos, looking in her direction for a moment. The mage gave her a light smile and a nod before turning away to prepare the spell.
Jennifer felt her nerves return, as she looked around. Her eyes eventually settled on Zaress, the central guild head and the renowned adventurer, Storm Blight. She vaguely recalled seeing him flying through the burning city on the night of the invasion.
“Mark of Time, it is a pleasure to meet you,” a voice interrupted her thoughts, almost making Jennifer jump. She turned to see a kind looking man standing next to her, wearing robes of white, with golden threads running along the hem. She recognised the man as the [High Priest] of Sera’s church.
“By Sera’s grace, the pleasure is all mine, [High Priest],” Jennifer replied, trying her best to imitate the courtesy her mother had taught her, telling her it’d be of use when she would one day work amidst nobles as a renowned Enchanter. Jennifer was almost certain she’d messed it up.
“May Sera guide you. Difficult times are arriving, and I thought I would see the face of the girl carrying the heavy burden of this news. I must admit, I hadn’t expected someone so young,” the priest said, turning towards her.
Jennifer stared silently at the man, unsure of what to say. She eyed the priest, nodding silently as a response.
“Is there something you wish to ask?” the priest asked. Jennifer realized she’d been staring. She almost shook her head as her default for any awkward situation but managed to stop herself. Shuffling her feet awkwardly she asked. “I just… wasn’t sure why you would be present in this council. I believed the church didn’t get involved with politics, especially wars.”
The priest looked at her with a calm smile, before turning away, and towards the other guild heads. “As you should know, this isn’t any ordinary war. The gods are involved and thus, so is the church,” The priest turned to look at Jennifer. “I come here as a representative of Selina, the Mark of Life.”
Jennifer’s eyes widened. The [Saint] is the Mark of Life?
The priest turned back towards Jennifer. “The church has stayed its hand from war and the workings of kingdoms, only so far as the threat didn’t threaten the existence of the Alliance itself.”
“The demons are that big of a threat?” Jennifer asked, feeling surprised. An invasion on Lienmont made sense, but to topple the Alliance was a notion that Jennifer couldn’t even begin to fathom. It would spell the end of civilization as they knew it.
“I fear that the demons are only a catalyst, and that there are far worse things that are starting to rise from their slumber,” the [High Priest] said, turning towards Jennifer. “There is another purpose that has brought me here. It was meeting you, Mark of Time.”
“Me?” Jenifer asked, and the priest nodded.
“I carry a message from the [Saint],” the [High Priest] said, and Jennifer’s eyes widened in surprise. “Mark of Time. When the time arrives for you to seek the truth, to seek into the past, then search for the dragon’s Mark,” the [High Priest] said, giving her a last smile as he turned and walked away.
Jennifer stared at the priest’s back in confusion. When… I seek the truth? What does that mean?
She didn’t get the time to mull over the man’s words, as a pulse of mana traveled through the chamber. The doors behind Jennifer shut themselves close. Runes of blue ran across the floor and up the walls, covering the chamber in magic.
[Enhanced Mana Sense] returned a mesh of mana threads and matrices layed around her in all directions. Jennifer found it impossible to track the spell as mana swirled as intricate threads and links of mana began to connect together.
Circles of light manifested on the floor, at the center of the chamber, as some of the members up ahead walked back, watching the magic work. Seven circles lit up on the floor, arranged in a circular array as runes swirled around them. Like pools of water rising from the ground, wispy figures flickered within the arena. She watched as the members of the council began to appear.
Zaress, the guild head, stood in front of the circles, his graying hair tinged blue from the light of the spell. The bright light of the spell soon faded, the mana settling down, leaving the wispy figures standing within their respective circles.
Jennifer took a quick glance around at the various members standing. There were members from the Nests, the Elven tribes, The Verhiz lizardfolk swaps, a representative from the Lehorian Empire. A dwarf woman, who Jennifer could only recognise the gender of, due to her familiarity with her Master. She took in a sharp breath, noting a dryad that stood silently next to the elf. She’d never seen a dryad before, their people rarely ever found outside of the Elder Woods.
Jennifer lingered for a moment upon the dryad before her eyes moved to the last person standing. The prince of Zandria.
The Prince stood straight, his light gold hair and crimson red eyes glancing across the room as the man wore a pleased smile on his face. Jennifer’s eyes shifted towards the silver Mark on his forehead, like a lotus with three petals.
A sudden shift had Jennifer see silver threads floating through the air, the presence of a Mark brushing against her. She looked down at the prince’s face, and received a wink for her trouble, as the sensation faded in an instant. She stared, looking around to see if no one else had noted the prince’s gesture, and found none who reacted in any way.
She returned her sight to Zaress, watching the prince, and Irwys standing nearby from the corner of her eye.
“I greet the council, and apologize for the short notice of this meeting,” Zaress said, his voice booming across the room, demanding attention.
“Small talk ain’t what we’re ‘ere for are we? Ye call upon the deep downers for War, human. I’m here to hear yer plea,” the dwarf woman snorted, her accent thick.
“My, boisterous as always, aren't we Merideth?'' The Harp woman trilled, covered her face with her feathered wing-hands.
“The empire, as always, is willing to take up arms for a just cause. Especially for a city like Lienmont,” another man spoke, the representative from the empire.
Jennifer turned to stare at the guild head, and for a moment, she felt as if she saw the man sigh. “It is not our war that I have called you here for. I’m assuming at least some of you are already aware of the invasion headed by the Ostiri upon Lienmont,” Zaress said.
“Have the Rezis lost control of their tribes? I’d always stood against allowing vile things such as [Slave Lords] to be allowed to trade with the Alliance for just this very reason,” the human from the Empire spoke, his face twisted in disgust.
“If I may guild head,” prince Laiken spoke, and the guild head nodded. “The Ostiri are headed by a Mark. A man, holding one of the eight Marks given by the trial that has begun beneath the city of Lienmont. The great dungeon under the city is shifting, changing, and we fear, not for the better. I, and the guild, have gathered some of these Marks, each with unique abilities. And one of them comes bearing a grim news of the future,” prince Laiken says, turning towards Jennifer.
Jennifer gulped, as the eyes of the dozens of figures rested upon her.
“The demons are colluding with the Ostiri. Our [Seers] see a great calamity that would strike the continent near the end of this month, one capable of toppling the Alliance itself,” Prince Laiken continued, as Jennifer saw the Mark on his forehead beginning to glow.
Murmurs spread across the council members.
“Something is there, within the dungeon, something the demons are targeting. And we need the Alliance’s support to stop them,” Prince Laiken said.
“Do you mean to take a girl’s wordsss? On matters such as thisss?” the Lizardfolk spoke, a long tongue flickering out with a trailing hiss.
“I am aware of the gravity of the situation,” Prince Laiken spoke. “And thus, the Mark of Time will be testifying in front of the council, on a greater truth spell, upon the veracity of her words,” Laiken spoke and Jennifer’s heart began to thunder.
She looked around in surprise, bowing her head lightly and stepping ahead. Jennifer felt the intensity of some of the gazes directly her away, combined with the mixed curiosity. She was thankful that these people weren’t present physically in front of her or she may just have collapsed from the weight of their combined presence.
Jennifer felt a brief link of mana tough her mind, and she looked up to the source. Nathaniel stood at the back, still intently focused on the spell, but the mage gave her a reassuring nod, and Jennifer nodded back. She needed to gather herself. With a light breath in, Jennifer straightened her back as she stood in front of the council.
“A young lass eh? If it weren’t for the decades I’ve known ye Zariss, I’d have thought ye were making a fool of me today,” the dwarf woman snorted, turning her eyes towards Jennifer.
“Jennifer Lain,” Prince Laiken spoke, and she turned to meet the prince’s eyes. “Are you willing to swear upon your words, in front of a truth spell?” the prince asked.
Jennifer took in a breath, and then nodded. “I am.”
“Then swear, Jennifer. That each word you have spoken is the truth,” Prince Laiken spoke, as the runes below her feet lit up, swirling with mana. [Lesser Arcane Analysis] presented the spell in front of her eyes.
Spell of Greater Truth
Divination
Tier - 6
A spell of Greater truth. To lie before this spell is the task of the fool, or of the brightest of Mage.
“I swear upon my words, and upon the future I witnessed. The Ostiri would be led by a Mark, tearing into Lienmont alongside demons, as the people would be slaughtered in droves. I have seen that future with my own two eyes, heard their screams, and watched the city burn in front of my eyes. To this, I swear on my Mark,” Jennifer said, magic rippling at each spoken word.
Runes swirled around her in a frenzy as the spell clamped itself upon her soul. A burning light flashed, the runes beneath her feet lighting up with a golden color, and Jennifer felt the spell loosen its clutch from her. She almost breathed out a sigh of relief.
With a resounding crack, thunder flashed near Zaress, as the guild head turned to stand next to Jennifer, facing the council.
“The truth lies there for us to see. And as such, I, Zaress Keinor, proclaim the guild of Leinmont at war with the demons. Will the Alliance stand by us?” The guild head asked, his words vibrating with power.
A few moments passed, as mana swirled in the room, auras flaring. With a snort, Merideth spoke up. “The deep downers will stand,” she said.
“The Empire will stand,” a voice followed.
“The white blossom will stand,” the dryad said.
“The nests will support the cause,” the harpy followed.
“The swamps agreesss,” the lizardfolk said, hissing.
“The tribes will provide you with support as well,” the elf spoke at last.
“You know I’m already in,” Prince Laiken said with a smile.
Zaress looked around the chamber in silence, nodding to himself. With heavy words, he spoke at last. "And thus, the Alliance stands as one. After decades, we begin anew a centuries old war against the demons. May Sera grace us all.”
And so the war began.
