Rise of the Fifth
The Hidden College Part 1
Pages 166 to 180

The forces of Dordover were losing, that much was certain. The Blackwings had taken serious losses but the Dordovan college army was nigh on extinct. Danyon, last surviving high mage of Dordover stood in his tent watching the last of his men fall to the Blackwings.

"Sir, shall we pull back for the day?" asked a young aid.

The mage slowly turned to stare at the boy. He had served Vuldaroq, then Linysar and others until Danyon was left. Now the boy stared at the new college leader, probably wondering how long until he died leading a charge. It wasn't a pleasant thought.

"What’s the point lad?" Danyon asked the aid, "We will lose today or tomorrow, it doesn't matter which."
The boy looked fearful and unsure but quickly decided to move off and return to his duties.

Danyon focused his attentions on the battle once more. The army of Dordover, once the largest in Balaia, now numbered under five thousand. A terrible figure. Reports from his scouts also informed him that the Julatsan and Lystern armies numbered only a few thousand between them, only narrowly beating the demon-creatures.

Dystran could destroy them all.

Since his initiation into mage training, Danyon had come to detest the dark college for everything it stood for. They were more than likely responsible for the new demon-creatures poised to invade the colleges, he thought. Well, at least they would have a taste of their own medicine. He began to image scenes of Xetesk in flames, small shadow-creatures cutting and ripping their way through the rotten city. He just wished he would be alive to see it.

The young aide came running around the corner to approach the command tent.

"Sir!" he said excitedly, "It’s the Julatsans and the Lystern Guard, they are here! Captain Gailen is with them!"

"How many are there boy?"

"How many.....I....I did not see sir!"

Danyon quaffed his irritation and followed the aide to the edge of camp where a new camp was quickly being established. He felt none of the excitement that the young aide felt - what was the point? Even were Dordover to be retaken, he would enjoy only a few mounts of being high lord until Balaia was destroyed by demons. Excitement seemed a complete waste of thought to Danyon.

A very unremarkable man rode towards him, followed by a tall powerful looking warrior.

"Captain Gailen I presume?" he asked the lead rider, an average size man who had blood and dirt splattered all over him. Little remained of his white cloak while the bay gelding he rode had seen better days.

"I am he. As you can see we have already fought and are in desperate need of supplies and healing mages. I take it you are Linysar?" The young high mage felt his exhaustion biting into him as he answered,

"Unfortunately you speak to Danyon, the last of the Dordover council and no doubt the last there will ever be. Linysar fell while your armies battled the beasts." Gailen nodded,

"Then you know of the threat and what it means."

"Of course, even were I to re-take Dordover, we would be wiped out by these cursed creatures. Yes I am well aware thank you."

"Have hope man, there is always hope. Now we have much to discuss, where can my men rest and see to their weapons?" Danyon was confused and felt the beginnings of dread rise up in him.

"What’s wrong with their weapons, don't tell me this rag-tag army isn't armed?" Gailen did not respond straight away to Danyon, he just stared at the mage from his saddle, furthering Danyon’s irritation.

"Yes sir, they are armed. But my men have fought hard and their blades need cleaning, sharpening and to see the inside of a newly oiled sheath. Also, I have over three hundred wounded that need seeing to, so please, can your aide guide my men through the camp whilst we discuss battle preparations for tomorrow. Secondly sir, I respectfully ask that you make communion with Heryst and Pheone to confirm your part in the Alliance and finally, I need to address your men.”

"Address my men?" asked Danyon. "What for?"

"To tell them they are now my men," Gailen said with a smile.

~*~

The small group rode on, cloaks pulled tight about them as the wind howled down the pass, the cold chill picking at exposed flesh. Their journey had been lightened earlier in the day, when Delenar had drawn their attention to a small farmstead where they had managed to change horses and purchase some fresh food, and the warm soup they had been given was lacking in taste but had silenced their grumbling stomachs.

Kane now rode at the point, mana-augmented vision scanning the horizon. Delenar had dropped back to the right of the diamond formation, cracking jokes with Lena at the expense of the Dordovan mage and the young Veygan, who seemed to take everything in his stride. Kane was growing to like the Julatsan soldier, whose bright smile was seemingly un-diminished even after the Shadow attack a few days before, and also the quiet mage, who was beginning to come out of her shell more and more as the day drew on. If the situation had been a little different, their company would still have been most welcome.

Kane however, was still coming to terms with the deaths of most of the Dordovan council, their mana pulses cast over the spectrum with such force he thought he was going to topple from his mount. He felt sure that the other mages would have felt them as well, but to a lesser extent, and had broadcast the information to the other three, seeing their concern at his near-fall. He just couldn't fathom out why the pulses had hit so hard, having been away from the college for so long and having almost turned his back on Vuldaroq and the others.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He switched back to the mana spectrum and turned back towards the colleges, seeing the turmoil near his home college die down. The battle was over, he thought, but the war was just beginning...

The evening was a pleasant one, warm with a cool breeze. The Blackthornes made for fantastic scenery with the sun setting behind them. They also made for comfortable camping ground, which the small group made in a small clearing in a rocky outcrop. A nearby stream provide water for boiling and a resting point for their mounts, all that was needed was some meat and herbs for a stew and so two of the group set off in search.

"The important thing about hunting," Delenar lectured, "Is to maintain your cool, something you seem to do well. You must never rush things - take your time approaching your prey and only release when your prey is least aware of you. If you are seen or heard by your prey be patient and wait; tense animals make for chewy meat so wait until it relaxes again before taking a shot." Veygan listened attentively, having never hunted before.

"I am not much good at moving quietly. Cool in battle I may be, but subtlety is not my strongpoint," said Veygan.

"Yes, now you mention it I had noticed. When were you going to approach Lena?" Delenar responded with a smile.

"What do you mean?"

"Well you stare at the girl with the tact of a Wesman, its obvious you like her, so why don't you talk to her?" Veygan turned a deep shade of crimson, something which surprised Delenar. The man had already developed a reputation for staying cool and laid back - that he could be embarrassed so easily was uncharacteristic.

"I...I am not good....with women," Veygan stammered. "Especially beautiful women."

"You think her beautiful?" Delenar enquired.

"Don't you?"

Delenar was about to respond that he did not, but the look on Veygan's face held him. The young man was clearly besotted and was handling his attraction with the subtlety of a dragon. He would take offence if Delenar said he found her to be plain.

"Well, she is attractive I suppose."

"She is beautiful," said Veygan dreamily. "But like I said I....I get confused with women. I always end up babbling nonsense when I am in their company." Delenar could not contain himself and burst into laughter, something which clearly did not sit well with the young Wolf.

"I have never heard of such a cool and deadly warrior being frightened of a girl!" he said through his laughter.

"I did not say I was scared...look can we drop it?" said Veygan angrily. Delenar stopped laughing and laid a hand on the man’s shoulder.

"I am sorry my friend, I should not have laughed - it was just unexpected that's all. Listen, when we head back to camp make an effort to sit with her, ask her about herself, pay attention and listen to what she has to say." Veygan smiled slightly, his mask of calm falling back into place,

"I think I'll have more luck with the hunting!"

~*~

Up through the hole in the floor they dragged themselves, finding the walls of the corridor damp and small streams of Triverne lake-water immediately starting to fall through the removed illusion.

"We're actually here..." Joibri whispered to no one in particular. Talo paused for a moment to tune into the mana spectrum, searching for where the dangers clustered. Gasta moved in front of the other three, while Pen moved slightly to the rear in response to the miniscule diamond formation.

"Come. We will encounter Shadows on our way to my old study. There my fellow Apostles have barricaded themselves. Unliore reports that there are still only a few Shadows harassing them, so we should be able to get in before the place is overrun. Let's move quickly." Gasta looked over his shoulder at the mage,

"Will you be casting?"

"Unlikely," said Talo with a regretful sigh, "I need to save my stamina for the Awakening."

~*~

"Hey! Watch where you're going you bloody fool!" Karil heard the voice, but didn't even bother to look at the man whom had spoken the words, his horse taking him south of Dordover. He'd gone through several villages now, not knowing where to go. His friends were gone, his own brother’s murder lay on him, and he had no home to go back to at Ereth.

Suddenly taking note of his surroundings, Karil found himself in a huge forest of broad-leaved trees, a large lake stretching out before him, part of the shoreline stretching two-thirds of the way into the lake providing what could almost be described as a barrier from the other side of the lake.

Sliding from his saddle Karil walked to the lake, bending to scoop a mouthful of the beautifully clean water. Sitting by the lake and letting his horse graze on the grass surrounding it Karil made a decision. This would be his home.

~*~

The meditation was going well; Korius hadn’t seen the visions or voices for a few days and was feeling good. He had concentrated hard on spell construction and was learning a few new techniques. But for some reason the afternoon’s session had not felt quite right. He noticed Benru's shape disperse.

"He is here," said his master.

"Who?" replied Korius.

"The Master." With that Korius' face turned to a snarl, anger rising. It was time for some revenge. Arthimus' biggest enemy was here, and he was going to pay. "Korius, my apprentice." Korius stopped distorting his face and looked at his master. "Control your anger, use it to destroy them. Not yourself."

Korius calmed, so quickly. It was one thing Benru was so good at. He had the power to calm even the wildest of beasts.

"We must move," continued Benru, "We have to leave quickly."

"But my master -"

"No buts. The college is weakened and we must leave." Slowly they rose and moved to the door. "Prepare an offensive spell and hold it," Benru told Korius. "We may need it."

"Yes master."

Benru opened the door quickly and stepped out, follow by Korius. The far end of the corridor was teaming with Shadows - they quickly counted six. There was a hellish scream as they turned to face the Fifth College mages and started a charge. All were covered head to toe in battle armour and were wielding short range claws.

"FlameOrb!" shouted Benru. A ball of searing hot flame shot from his arm and hit the front Shadow, making it explode into fire. The Shadow screamed in pain as molten, broiling flame charred it. The flames hit the Shadows behind, and suddenly they were alight and screeching. Dropping to the floor they skidded to the mages’ feet. Rolling in agony as flame burnt every part of their body, the mages saw their skin bubble and pop whilst still on their bodies. Black liquid oozed from every available space in their armour. In a matter of seconds there was nothing more than a charred mess. Unfortunately their screams had alerted more s
Shadows, another four burst from a doorway and began another charge.

"FlameOrb!" screamed Korius in rage and their fate was the same as those before. Falling to the ground they burnt horrifically, adding to the pile of charred nether-material. Skin again bubbled and the floor was slick with sticky black ooze. The mages saw more Shadows appear from the doorway. Two pulled out and began their charge. The mages frantically tried to form new spells.

"IceWind!" called Benru. But the Shadows were too close. One ducked and skidded towards him, the IceWind hitting the second face on. It was flung back and shattered into a thousand pieces as it hit the floor. The other Shadow made an uppercut with its claws into Benru's face, blood spurting out. Korius stepped in but the speed of the Shadow hammered him into the wall, three large gashes in his face where he had been struck by the claw. Blood smeared his vision and he turned to see the Shadow insert his hand - complete with claw - into Benru's midriff.

"NO!" Korius screamed and grabbed the head of the Shadow. With his hands either side he pumped pure mana in the beast. It flung its head back and screeched as its skin started to pulsate red. Smoke poured from slits in its armour, it could not take so much of this pure mana. Suddenly it simply imploded, the armour dropped to the floor and Benru and Korius were showered with black liquid.

Korius moved quickly and propped up Benru's head. The fallen mage coughed, bringing up blood. He looked into his apprentice’s eyes, and saw that there were tears forming and running down the young man’s face.

"You have done....well....my apprentice," he said, gasping for breath. "But you are....no master yet. You must leave.....this place."

"But my master," began Korius. His tears were now streaming down his face. "We must fight on, we must get revenge." There were no power in his words, just a desperate wish that his master would survive.

"Look....at me," blood spurted from Benru’s mouth as he spoke. "I am finished....you must...go. You must....continue your training....remember what....you have learnt.....Now go....leave.....me." And with that Benru's eyes flickered and he lay still. Korius looked down at the hole in his late master’s stomach. It had punctured vital organs - even if they had gotten out he would not have survived.

"Murderer," came a voice. "You let him die too."

With that Korius let go of his master. He tried to stand, tried to confront the voice. Rage felt like it should be building, but he was so tired...

"Murderer." The voice said again.

Korius just ignored it. He slumped against the wall and cried, tears flowing like a river down his face. Benru was right, he was not a master yet. But he would be, he would get revenge. But now he wanted to rest, to sleep. He closed his eyes and started to drift. But he could hear Shadows in the distance - they were coming this way. So he forced himself up on protesting limbs and took one last look at his old master.

"Goodbye my master - goodbye my friend," he said, then turned and left.

~*~

"Just....argh! Just keep out of the way!" Joibri yelled at Talo in frustration, pushing him into the wall out of the way of a set of Shadow talons. She swept her left hand up and her own finger blades went deep into the beast's hood and the hidden flesh beneath. As it gargled a peculiar noise of anger its talons swept up and locked with those of Joibri, each trying to push the other backwards.

Pen grabbed Talo by the arm of his robes and tugged him a few inches along - they had to keep moving. Gasta up ahead was making quick work of the seven or so murder of Shadows that had accumulated.

Another Shadow came up behind Joibri as she wrestled with the one in front of her, but a huge sweep of Pen's broadsword riddled its spine and it fell screaming to the floor, whereupon its head was quickly taken from its body. Joibri thanked Pen silently, flinging her arms to the side and taking the Shadow's own arms with them. Like she always did so riskily, she let go of the Shadow's left talon and spun directly into its personal circle, flipping it over her back and whipping out her sword. The head was severed before the Shadow even hit the ground.

"Keep going!" Talo shouted, sensing the other four Apostles near. Looking back over his shoulder to ensure they weren't being followed, he headed after Joibri, Pen and Gasta, who were just ploughing through the narrow corridor and the resident Shadows. As the last one's head rolled past Talo's feet the four broke into a run.

"I'll need a guard," he said, eyes beginning to unfocus.

"Wait - what are you doing? You can't conduct a communion while walking!" Joibri objected as his eyes closed. There was a small smile from the male elf,

"Just watch my back, please." And then his senses were lost to the real world, but strangely he kept walking in a dazed sort of fashion, like sleep walking. Joibri sighed in exasperation and kept close to him.

~*~

Unliore's eyes twitched beneath her sweat-soaked auburn fringe, and a grateful smile spread across her face. When the communion broke she sat up instantly, shouting to the others,

"Talo's coming! They're just outside!" Lirant had replaced Harcetch with his own HardShield, the latter having sat down beside the large desk to rest. Fieron still maintained his SpellShield.

"Thank hell, we're running out of time."

There was a stupendous clash of metal outside that could be heard through the door, and ungodly screeches of the marauding Shadows as their death met them. Even though the battle continued, the two mages inside let down their shields, but still on guard as the door opened. Talo slipped inside, and the mages breathed a sigh of relief.

"We knew you wouldn't forsake us," Fieron said gratefully. The mages appeared to be strengthened by Talo's very presence, and didn't he know it. He moved back to his fireplace that lay vacant, pacing behind his desk,

"We need to get to the ManaDais." The others gaped at him, but before Lirant could object the wailing outside had stopped and they found their former general entering.

"Alarius...I mean, General," Unliore gasped in disbelief, and then hastily corrected herself and the short run she had almost made to the study door.

Joibri entered then, wiping her sword on its sealskin wrap. The mages stared at her, knowing too well who this was. Harcetch turned to Talo,

"You brought Arithmus' host? His weapon?"

"Her name is Joibri," Talo said instead.

"I am no weapon of your former master or of anyone else, thank you," Joibri snarled.

The door closed as Pen entered, immediately shadowing Joibri in the face of strange Hermetic mages.

"And this is Penrold," Talo introduced politely. He pointed to each of his fellow mages in turn, "Unliore, Fieron, Lirant and Harcetch, my fellow Hermetic Apostles." Then Talo strode to the small window and looked out on the mage resistance gathering around the ManaDais. "I would recommend putting those shields back up. It won't be long."

~*~

His pace slowed, and then stopped altogether. The Master lifted his hooded face upwards, head tilted to one side, almost as if sniffing the air. His gaze lowered back to the mage trio in front of him, still throwing FlameOrbs and IceWind against the SpellShield cast by his own Shield mages. He raised his hands, muttering,

"DeathHail," as he moved, the air suddenly filled with razor-sharp ice, cutting through the mages as if the ice was made of steel. They fell, cries choked off as he placed his hands across their throats, "SoulDrain," silencing them as the last of their strength was drawn out and made part of his own.

He stood, raised his head once more. Quickly he began moving off towards the lower levels, his casting mages struggling to keep up with him. He muttered commands to the darkness surrounding them, Shadows moving off at speed to carry out his orders. His General came to his shoulder.

"We must break them NOW. She is here. I sense her aura. I would take it as my own. It doesn't matter how many are lost - they must be stopped before she awakens. Go. NOW!" His commander was gone, the only sound the echo of footsteps as the mages and the Master made their way to the final stairwell.

~*~

Delenar sat himself beside Kane, a bowl of broth and a chunk of bread in hand. The Dordovan mage nodded to the elf but then resumed his silent staring into thin air.

"Are you ok?" asked the elf.

"Yeah, the battle appears to have ended. I still can't believe the college wars have escalated so high. They have almost wiped each other out," Kane replied.

"But Dordover still stands?" asked Delenar. Kane merely nodded,

"I can still feel the heart - it stands." Delenar smiled at his friend,

"Then we have a bit more time. We'll convince the Baronies that they need to help the colleges. Besides, with me around the Shadows are practically beaten."

"True enough my dear elf, the Shadows will no doubt be terrified of someone so ugly and surrender on the spot," Kane responded, to the amusement of both of them. Kane sighed when he had stopped laughing and stared over the camp at Veygan and Lena. The soldier was fidgeting furiously as he spoke to the mage woman, clearly nervous. "Do my eyes deceive me or is he finally talking to her?" Kane asked in a hushed whisper. Delenar smiled cheekily,

"So he is! Well he took long enough." Kane didn't respond; he was staring towards the north with a deep frown on his face.

"Del we need to get moving! We need to reach Blackthorne quickly," Kane said suddenly.

"Why? What’s wrong?" Kane turned his mana augmented gaze on the elf.

"The spectrum is different around Triverne, something big is happening!"

~*~

Pen looked around at his fellows: Talo, impassive as he stood at his desk after introducing them all. Joibri, anger imprinted on her features at her being named a weapon by the Fifth College mages. Gasta, clearly uncomfortable at being back with his past comrades. But oddly the former General was exchanging uneasy glances and small words with the Fifth Mage Unliore, as if they were both embarrassed about something. Pen focused on their conversation, managing to overhear,

“I had no choice,” Gasta was saying.

“You did. She did too,” Unliore mumbled, folding her arms. Gasta looked pained,

“Please, Unliore -”

“There’s no time for us here,” she interrupted, moving away from him. Pen raised an eyebrow.

Suddenly screams were heard - blood-curdling cries, cut short by something, or someone.

"Joibri?" Talo asked in a not-there voice, vaguely indicating with his arm for her to come towards him. She did so. Talo’s face darkened as he came back from tuning into the mana spectrum. "He is come," he said, visibly trembling. "Drop the shields! We go!"

"We'll get butchered if we go that way, Talo!" Lirant objected angrily, pointing to the study door.

"I don't intend to go that way," Talo quickly regained his cool and his authority. But his desperation and fear was channelled into something else - heftily he picked up his old chair and stabbed into the subterranean window, shattering the glass and breaking the crossbar.

"Cute, very cute," Pen murmured condescendingly as Talo put his chair back down. The mages in the ManaDais antechamber looked to the small window in shock as one by one figures dropped the six feet or so to the ground.

"They don't have a HardShield?" Talo wrinkled his nose in confusion. "Idiots."

He turned to his fellow Apostles as the small group ran into the meagre crowd of confused Fifth mages. They recognised Talo, and swiftly moved out of his way. Joibri suspected that, had the situation been different, they may have bowed to him.

"You remember what I told you?" Talo asked the other Apostles. There was agreement. "Good. I am glad that in this eleventh hour you are all alive. Unliore," Talo addressed her, holding out his hand.

From her robe Unliore pulled a large pendant in the shape of an equal-armed cross, bronze in color and a large orb of a ruby set into the middle. A stupidly long matching chain trailed behind it as Unliore deposited it into Talo's thin hand.

"Good.” He looked to his right, where a man looked to approach them in objection, "No time for your tongue, Jonak! The Master is coming! HardShields and SpellShields, NOW!" Jonak was stopped by the mage’s authority and started shouting orders to the other mages.

Talo had prepared his life for this moment. He had never wanted it to happen, but by the gods he made sure he knew it to the exact precision - so much espionage in the aim of protecting her... He was going to make everything run smoothly, whether they liked it or not. Talo had never been named as the Fifth Arch Mage. They never needed to - his skill spoke for itself. Only the presence of Arithmus, and perhaps Benru, had kept him from tasting total power...One day... Talo abandoned the dark smirk rising on his pale features,

"Gasta, I'll need some form of defence around the Dais." The object in question loomed before them as they temporarily slowed to a halt. "Just in case," Talo added quickly, glancing to the small mage teams performing a joint casting.

The ManaDais was raised up from the floor to about shoulder height and was accessed by five, evenly-spaced small sets of steps. As Joibri and Pen watched in confusion, Unliore, Fieron, Lirant and Harcetch walked around to separate steps and strode up them, standing still and waiting for Talo when they got to the top.

"Penrold, please stay here - help Gasta if you can - you can do no more for us now unless it is to keep the Shadows at bay for as long as is possible. Neither myself or the other Apostles will be able to cast to defend any of you, or ourselves," Talo said, and for once there was no bitterness. Pen picked up on this, and moved to Joibri, whom turned to him sadly. His eyebrows furrowed at the defeated look in her eyes.

"Promise me something, Pen," she said in a voice that was almost a whisper.

"Anything."

"If this all goes wrong...don't go out without a bang," there was a small but mischievous smile, though the defeat still remained. "Promise me?"

"I promise."

"Please, Joibri, we have to start. We're running out of time," Talo reminded them impatiently, eyes looking at the grand doors at the far end of the high-ceiling chamber. Joibri and Pen gave one another a last smile, the first in what seemed like forever, and then Talo led her around to the right-hand set of steps of the dais.

At the top of those stairs Joibri looked down nervously on the dais. The surface was pure obsidian, apart from towards the center, where a disc of bronze began. Around this disc were nine short poles on which large pillar candles stood, and Harcetch was lighting them by magic. And in the center of this disc, the point to which Joibri was looking, was an indention in the shape of a humanoid figure. Remembering the parchment, Joibri realised the poles would have been where the chains would have looped to form the nine-pointed star.

"Please, put this on," Talo startled her from her nerves, holding out the pendant on its chain.

"Wait," she said, beginning to unarm herself and gently drop her weapons off the side of the dais, making a mental note of where they were when she needed them. Then she shakily took the pendant and slipped it over her head, the pendant itself reaching to the middle of her torso. She was reminded of the burst of light represented on the drawing, and grew more nervous.

"Just lie in the indent, and we'll do the rest. Whatever you do, don't panic. It will hurt, but don't panic." Harcetch had gone back to his post.

Talo's hands cupped her face, his gaze that same sad, wistful look,

"Your father chose me for you," Joibri's lips parted in shock, trying to form some type of reply. Their eyes searched one another’s. "But you never knew," Talo added even more sadly.

“Oh no,” Joibri said to herself, this new dilemma crushing the breath she had held in.

Before he moved back to his post at the figure's head, Talo gave her a small, sad and restrained kiss. Within her, there was a spurn of some wild emotion - not love, not hate - it had no name. Joibri stood there dumbly for a moment, staring at his back. But cries of alarm at the end of the chamber reminded her of the time and place. She quickly dropped to her hands and knees and, shivering, laid on her back in the indent, its depth covering half her body.

"Hermetii conclusus, jana Julatsa," Talo cast his words to the void above them, and the candles flickered, turning red.

"Hermetii conclusus, jana Hermetii," said Lirant, to Talo's right and Joibri's head.

"Hermetii conclusus, jana Dordover," said Harcetch, to Talo's left and Joibri's left foot.

"Hermetii conclusus, jana Lystern," said Fieron, to Harcetch's left and Joibri's right foot.

"Hermetii conclusus, jana Xetesk," said Unliore on Lirant's right and Joibri's right hand. They all closed their eyes, beginning the Awakening.

From the candles red mana began to pour into the air, saturating it completely until the ManaDais was nothing but a playground of red, swirling mana. Not as Joibri expected, she floated from the surface of the dais, and decided to shut her eyes.

All at once the pain of a forced ManaForm hit her, and she screamed briefly before biting down on it, her back arching as the orb in the pendant she wore began to gather mana to it and thus into her.

Pen and Gasta had moved away from the dais, but Pen still heard Talo's words and they both turned at them. Pen’s stomach clenched in jealous pain as he saw Talo kiss her. Gasta bit his lip, then demanded,

"Pen! Concentrate." Gasta's words were commanding, though still friendly. "She will not thank you for getting yourself killed before you even aim a blow, particularly after the promise you just made." Pen smiled slightly in return.

"Right," he said, gripping the hilt of his sword. He took just one second more to look across at the person he loved. Then the banging on the great doors began. They all knew...

This was it.

~*~

He rounded the final corner, a Shadow taking the head off a swordsman as he tried in vain to reach the Master. The soldier never even drew a glimpse from him. The confidence in the speed and power of his creatures grew as his own power increased with each soul taken with his SoulDrain spell. Soon, when he lay on the ManaDais himself and used the Fifth mana to further enhance his abilities, he would be able to bring Them through to this dimension as well. The Skalah, and the beasts they controlled, would be his ultimate fighting force. He grinned, the ice-cold smile filled with hatred as he approached the sealed room.

His Shadows were literally throwing themselves at the doors, axes swinging into the wood only to be repelled by WardLocks, each impact sending fizzing sparks scattering across the surface of the wooden panels.

"Enough," he said as he moved his hands to chest level. The Shadows backed away from the door. His eyes flew open, and a FlameOrb the diameter of the passageway flew at the doors. The WardLocks fizzed, the doors shattered, and the Shadows poured into the room. Through the mana-fired doorway, the Master glimpsed his prize....

His voice became nothing more than a hiss as he witnessed what they were trying to do,

"Joibri’dan."

~*~

Her senses of the real world had practically collapsed, so Joibri didn't hear the enormous crash of the shattered doors, nor the increased chanting of Talo and his companions, nor the shouts of those giving frantic orders.

Her body floated limply at eye level above the dais, caressed by the mana she hated. Her mind floated in a world where nothing was solid, where there was only power and pain. At an astonishing rate this power and pain rushed into her very being, filling her. But she did not feel hungry for it. She cried out in the alter-world, wanting it to stop but knowing she could do nothing now.

Ahead of her she glimpsed herself, blindfolded again for some reason, riding a horse and fully armed over the crest of a hill...taking on an entire army... The image was gone, the pain resumed. The Fifth mana was taking over.

~*~

Gasta let out a yell, charging at the Shadows that flooded the room. Pen joined him, his pain and anger filtered into his arms as he thrashed his sword into the Shadows. Moving back a pace or two, he began to let it take him; it seeped through his body, reaching every limb. Pen's last nerves suddenly disappeared as the beast within took over, Pen just at the back of his own mind to make sure it didn't swamp him completely.

Letting out a sickening howl that unnerved the Shadows and caused the Master to break his concentration to stare in his direction, Pen ploughed into the huge numbers of Shadows, his broadsword slicing through throat, face, and torso, destroying each and every Shadow as it advanced towards him - their fear he could smell. He despised it; their weakness was his power.

A Shadow took a second longer than it should have to advance, fear seeping from every pore of it' sickening body. Pen thrust his sword into its torso and then.... something happened. Pen faded even moreso into the background of his mind. He felt himself lean forward, and knew what was going to happen. The other Shadows stopped momentarily, Gasta taking advantage and slaying multiples before bothering to see what they were staring at.

Pen's jaw clamped around the throat of the Shadow, his teeth ripping through its flesh, pulling it from its body, the Shadow falling to the ground after letting out a horrific scream. What had once been Pen was now a gruesome monster, flesh and black oozing blood spilling from his mouth.

Gasta felt ill, but saw the Master stop in his tracks, recognition flooding the part of his face that was visible beneath his hood.

And then the tide turned.

~*~

Mikadun downed his drink rapidly, much to the amusement of the crowd, and slammed his mug down onto the table. A chant had begun in his honour as his comrade groggily picked up his own beer to repeat the process. He touched the mug to his lips and then suitably passed out, the contents of his mug falling to the floor of the inn with him. Mikadun let out a roar of laughter and received a round of applause from the spectators. He had always been a drinker and had no trouble impressing others with his ability to neck alcohol.

"Tell us how you made that breach on the wall again ‘Mik!" said one of the victorious soldiers nearby. Mikadun did not know the man’s name, nor what college he was from but he had become something of a hero to the united college army, and had been approached often throughout the day.

"Well lads, I got up that ladder and I thought this Blackwing had me!" he said as the crowd gathered closer, "But he was too close for me to strike with my sword so I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him from the battlements."

A crowd of laughter and cheers erupted, but they died down as the men waited eagerly for more details.

"So I leapt onto the wall and straight away I was on the defence from three Blackwings." He paused for effect, "But we all know they fight like school-children so I roared at them and charged in. Well, one lucky one got a slash on me here," he said pointing to his shoulder, "See! So I took him first with a cut and then I took the scum bucket next to him. The last of them devils I disarmed and picked up in my hands, then I flung him towards his kind and he barrelled three of them over!"

Another roar of laughter filled the tavern.

"That’s when you lads surged over and we won the day, have you ever seen Blackwings run so fast?!" A third roar of laughter from the crowds of college soldiers.

"So what now sir? Where to now we have re-taken Dordover?" asked a young soldier whom Mikadun had recognised from the battle earlier that day.

"Well lads, those Xeteskians need their nose bloodied, but don't you worry about that. Our army is small but by god we're strong! And I bet General Gailen is brewing up more schemes as we speak." Mikadun replied.

There was a short cheer and many raised mugs at the sound of Gailen’s name, but the attention of the crowd was quickly drawn to Mikadun's opponent who was trying to drunkenly get up onto his feet.

~*~

Not far away, in the Keep of Dordover, Gailen stared out of the window, the new Lord of Dordover behind him.

"The celebrations will be long tonight," said Danyon.

"The men deserve it, they fought excellently today," said Gailen proudly.

"Will it make a difference against the Shadows, though?" Gailen turned to look at Danyon, then returned his gaze to the busy streets of Dordover,

"One step at a time, sir. First I need Xetesk."

~*~

Hedigas screamed in pain. It had been a full hour of torture and he could take no more, so he spoke. He told what little he knew of the Master and only the minute details his Fifth College had told him about their work. But that was enough for Dystran. For too long he had been looking for the other traitor in Xetesk, it was now obvious that this one was the fifth representative and that Kaynel had worked for this "Master".

It seems he had overestimated the Fifth and not thought there could be another power. He now knew that Lystern was telling the truth and his only hope was to ally with them. But this could present an opening. Xetesk were the only college left with real power - all other college forces were either spent or had little number to them. Xetesk would now call the shots. Yes, this was working to his favour. A few days ago he was at the brink of losing his college, now he had a bright new future. One that would see Xetesk back as the main power in Balaia. All he needed to do was rid himself of this Master and assume full control of the Northern Continent. He turned to the guard next to him,

"Send a message to Chandyr. Tell him we will ally with Julatsa, but only on our terms."

"Yes my Lord," the guard replied. "But what do we do with this one?"

Dystran turned to look Hedigas straight in the eyes. He saw the fear in the Fifth mage and watched the blood pour down his face. Without any emotion Dystran answered the question,

"Kill him."

~*~

Before he succumbed entirely into the alter-world, Talo opened his eyes, his concentration supreme as he merely took in what was around him. Within the haze of red Joibri floated, the pendant glowing just as it should, her back arched and limbs thrown out to her sides, head leant back. But she was nothing more than a desirable silhouette. Around him, the Apostles continued the spell. They were already in their own ManaForms, tending to the construct that surrounded Joibri's own forced ManaForm.

Talo's eyes moved to the left, and he glimpsed the approaching swathe of Shadows, and a dark, powerful aura forming a spell. He could only hope they would be protected, as he succumbed to the Awakening.

In the alter-world they stood, just as they did in the real world, only this time they could feel her pain. They could hear her cries. And Talo could feel emotions. He so wanted to end her suffering, to feed her with an elixir of his devotion’s promises and pour out his heart to her, but couldn't. He couldn't even reach out to her and tell her it would be over at some point. He could feel her trying to reject the mana.

The hands of Fieron, Lirant, Unliore and Harcetch plucked at the air, guiding the slipstreams of mana into the body before them.

"Dad!" Joibri unashamedly screamed, writhing in the air and tears of pain flowing from her eyes to hang in the mana-air like beads of mercury. "Liar!" came another scream.

"Give in," Talo advised, perhaps a little more darkly than he had wanted to sound. Though Joibri knew the sound would never pass her mortal lips, she let out another shrill scream,

"Pen!" Talo flinched - would she ever call his name? There was a pause in his chant before he picked it back up again.

~*~

Gailen rode his army hard in the days that followed the re-taking of Dordover. He had three thousand men under his control - not an aspiring number given that it was all that was left of the three colleges, but these men were the best and the toughest, having survived the college wars, Shadows and Blackwings. Still Gailen had ensured the army was as prepared as possible.

In the two short days that he had allowed celebrations to continue for, he had put in place a new command structure and rigid levels of discipline. Dordover’s four blacksmiths had produced new armour and swords for many men (much to the expense of the city) and he had even managed to secure a hundred mounts of high quality, allowing him to create a new cavalry wing. Despite all his preparations, Gailen knew that against Xetesk his army was nothing.

"Not far now, Sir," said Kumonai, gazing towards the city of Julatsa. Gailen glanced at his second, happy to see that he had regained some of the old fire in his eyes. His injuries following the Shadow battle were awful but he was finally showing signs of improvement.

"We will be there before sundown," replied Gailen, "Let’s just hope we have a city to come back to."

~*~

Lena sighed in relief as Blackthorne Castle suddenly came into view. She knew they had a quite a few miles to go but having the castle in sight lifted her spirits immensely. They had ridden hard after the change of the mana spectrum around Triverne Lake, pushing their horses to the limit.

Lena patted her horse’s neck, trying to encourage it. She had grown oddly attached to the animal and hated seeing it suffer. But the hard pace was necessary - something was clearly wrong within the Fifth College. Lena shuddered thinking of Talo and the others. She hoped he was all right - she caught herself at that thought - why was she so worried about him?

‘Because we've been through a lot together,’ she thought to herself, remembering their escape from the Fifth College. But that explanation didn't quite seem to cover it...

As the group approached the walls of Blackthorne and they had to slow their pace, she decided to leave the issue for another time. Now she had to concentrate; they had to convince the Baronies to fight. She wasn't worried about Baron Blackthorne, who had an excellent reputation as an intelligent and fair leader, but she wasn't so sure about some of the others. They had to realise the danger! Now wasn't the time for petty squabbles!

But she couldn't quite shake of the growing feeling of dread. Something was very, very wrong.

~*~

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