Rise of the Fifth
The Hidden College Part 1
Pages 46 to 60

For the umpteenth time that week, Pen found himself waking up and feeling stiff and painful, his memory temporarily lapsing into recounting his own bad fortune. That meant his demon form.

As a young boy, having been orphaned, Pen had been picked up by some Xeteskian mage and taken back to the college whereupon they had conducted experiments on him containing a demon inside his body for many years to study its effects. Needless to say Pen was not too keen on being placed in that situation again - but the Lord of the Mount himself was the only one he knew of who could possibly do this.

The pain such a transformation could cause dwarfed what he felt now, lying bleeding and broken on the grass.

~*~

Kane felt the casting from the old man, but did not respond right away as he realised this old man was the research mage he was looking for. Keeping silent was the only way to avoid a TruthSay spell, but as soon as he opened his mouth he would be compelled to answer the man's questions. He dropped his casting on the elf, tuning to the spectrum once more and turning in the water to face his inquisitor. The man was indeed the research mage he was looking for, for even though he cast with the typical Xeteskian blue hue in his mana, flicks of red seeped from around the edges.

‘This must be what I have been hearing about,’ he thought to himself. "As I was about to ask our companion here, I have questions regarding something that you may also have a greater knowledge about," he replied, before telling them both everything he knew up to know, which didn't amount to a great deal:

Rumours of mages from all over Balaia receiving strange communions and then departing for an unknown destination, others going missing and turning up dead in darkened rooms or alleyways with untold numbers of wounds and all hint of mana drained from their bodies. The information he had gathered in Julatsa of an old Xeteskian mage living in a small settlement alone, without protectors or guards, told of one with unusual gifts even for a mage, spells observed from distance by the Julatsan council but never understood. So here he was, looking for this mage to see what else he could find.

Delenar sat to the edge of the bath transfixed.

"Well gentlemen, I am well and truly confused. Who are you both?" he asked. The mage at the door answered, visibly relaxing.

"I am Youlvi, an old friend to your contractor, Kelthan. He asked me to find you a while back and that is how I know you. You on the other hand," he said, pointing at Kane, "I have never met and presume you are on some errand of interest to Dordover and seek me for...information, shall we say. If you are I'm afraid you will be disappointed, the information I have in the hands of the colleges would only lead to more trouble for Balaia."

"Youlvi - you’re Youlvi?" asked Delenar, interrupting Kane's response. "I was told to seek you by Kelthan before he...before he died. I don't know why, but I was supposed to find you."

Youlvi's eyes glazed for a moment, seeming to ignore Delenar he suddenly shook his head and stared at the elf. He didn't appear out of the ordinary in any way, an elderly mage, he had long whiting hair and a long flowing beard. The kind of man you could imagine raising children and telling stories of heroes and days gone. He certainly could not have been another of Kelthan’s clients, maybe a relative of some kind.

"Kelthan is dead?" he asked rhetorically. "He was a good man, no saint but a good man deep down. We have much to discuss Delenar, please come with me and we shall talk."

"Wait," said Kane, "What about me? I need you to answer my questions."

"I will not help any of the colleges in this matter, they will only make matters worse. I am sorry college man but my allegiance is to Balaia. Should you find yours is too, then join me for a drink."

Kane sat dumbstruck as the mage left the room followed by a hastily-dressed Delenar. What had the old man meant? Of course Kane was on the side of Balaia but surely Dordover had Balaia’s best interests at heart too? An image of Vuldaroq flashed through Kane’s mind. No, if Dordover saw a way to benefit from the current rumours of a fifth college, they would. Still, Kane’s loyalty ran deep and he simply couldn't imagine betraying his college, even if it was to just withhold information. For a few moments he thought about trying to force information from the old man, but something about the twinkle in his elderly eyes made Kane feel he wouldn't enjoy much success.

"What now Kane?" he asked himself, "Your college or your land?"

~*~

The pain of travelling the rip had almost been too much for Korius. He had been tired from the journey and the power of the Fifth mana had drained him. He was also not too amused when a small, slightly pudgy man came to greet him and wanted to usher him away. Korius didn’t look much at the decor of the college, only noting its dark dank feeling and slight smell of mildew. But what he did notice was the water running down the walls, only a small film but enough. Surely the college couldn’t be under the lake? But the sound of pumping water seemed to clarify that one.

After a short walk, he was ushered in a dark room. At its centre was a large stone table. Every seat occupied.

"Welcome, Korius," said one man, standing "I am Jonak." Korius paused,

"Where is Arthimus? I need to speak with him."

"All in good time my friend. We have much to discuss."

"Oh, another quick question. Where’s my chair? My legs are killing." Round the table, the occupants of the room laughed. Korius let out a quick smile, no one really found him funny in Xetesk. He was going to like it here.

~*~

Youlvi and Delenar chose a seat in the corner of the bar. Signalling the attractive barmaid for some drinks, Delenar was confused beyond anything he had experienced so far.

"Youlvi, please tell me you have some answers. What happened back there, who is the girl I was watching? What, where and who is the Fifth? Why -" Youlvi laughed, stopping Delenar in his tracks.

"Delenar," he said, suddenly looking serious, "Slow down. First let us await our companion then we'll talk of all these issues."

At that point the barmaid Kirelle brought over two mugs and a flagon of mead. Flashing a curious smile at the two of them, she moved away. Following the sway of her hips with his gaze, Delenar noticed the door opening and Kane walking towards them. He looked as confused as Delenar felt, but he pulled up a chair and sat in silence. Youlvi smiled at the man and nodded.

"I never liked Vuldaroq anyway," said Kane in reply to Youlvi's nod.

"The One..." said Youlvi, "It all begins with the One. A combination of the four college magics, made one. A force far more powerful and flexible than our college magics. I was a Xeteskian research mage with two other very powerful mages, one named Arithmus and the other...its best you don't know his name. At present he is known as ‘the Master’. We were trying to discover how it is that the One was broken down into four college magics, and yet the four magics could not be merged to form One magic.

“We found the problem. The four basic college magics required a catalyst, a force more powerful then those individually that could be manipulated to merge magics. A magic that exists only in the One in this dimension, but in another dimension it is the dominant force. In short, a fifth magic from another dimension was discovered. A magic so flexible it allowed our Xeteskian magic to merge with it and make new spell casting possible."

Delenar’s face was blank with confusion, but Kane was eagerly awaiting every word.

"Arithmus openly accepted the mana of the Fifth and grew in power rapidly. The Master practiced using the magic to reach and control dimensional powers. The two came to argument, which eventually led to blows. Arithmus left Xetesk then and went on to found a whole college devoted to the Fifth magic form and his power grew further. In the end, the Master was so jealous of Arithmus he hired an assassin to kill my mentor. Well, it worked, but Arithmus cast a spell that would allow him to return to form after his body had healed but the spell was experimental and backlashed. He could only return to the form of his killer, the elf girl Joibri."

Delenar was stunned, pieces of the puzzle began to fit together. The reason Joibri was haunted by Arithmus and being subjected to so much Fifth mana.

"Now," continued Youlvi, "Arithmus seeks to return to our dimension and take to power over Balaia. Only one man has the power to stop him, and that is the Master of Shadows. He now knows of Joibri and he will do anything to kill her, including hiring contractors to track her." he said looking at Delenar, "And he will kill anyone who is of no use to him," he added far more sadly. "His research has led him in a different direction and he has much influence now. Should he defeat Arithmus he would also seek to rule Balaia and the college of the Fifth. So you see the predicament, gentlemen. The only option I can see is to help the girl Joibri from being killed by the Master or lured into the Fifth by Arithmus. My own time researching the Fifth has provided me with a few tricks but I am no match for these powers alone. I will need help.

"I need volunteers to help save Balaia!"

~*~

Lena looked up as another man was ushered in by Jonak. The first thing that struck her was that he obviously was exhausted. His face was pale with dark shadows under his eyes. But he must have felt better than he looked, she realised, when he cracked a joke. The tension that had been mounting every minute since the bad news had been brought up disappeared. Well, nearly - there was still a fine current of it that cut the laughter short.

Jonak introduced the man as Korius and then motioned him to the last free chair, which was nearly opposite Lena's own. As the man sat down, Lena studied him while Jonak started to speak,

"Never before have we had any unknown mage sitting at this table and this evening we have two," he began gesturing at Lena and Korius, who shot her a surprised look, "But as you all know, we are facing great danger and in such times some rules must be broken. And it is Arithmus himself who brought Korius here tonight," Now it was Lena's turn to look surprised - Arithmus had brought Korius here? Then he must be very powerful indeed, she concluded. She brought her attention back to Jonak when she realised that he had started to speak again, "So now, it is time for action! Our plan is such...."

~*~

Slumped on the ground, Pen allowed himself to be nuzzled by a horse that he couldn’t tell if it was his own or a wild one.

He could feel it building inside of him. A feeling he had not felt in so long. The beginning was always the best part. The strength building within his chest, and arms, the power running slowing through his muscles. He wanted to embrace his new-found strength, but he knew what it could lead to if he did.

A thought suddenly then occurred to him... how was Dystran doing this to him? How dare he do it in fact? He could have discussed Dystran’s needs for him, but The Lord of the Mount had obviously grown impatient.

There was one way in which it had a positive side other than the increase in strength - being under the control of Dystran meant he could contact him. It was a similar method to that of the communion but being no mage, and being under Dystran’s command, meant that he could only talk to the man if he wished to be talked to. Concentrating hard, Pen found that after so many years, his abilities still came to him like they had never left.

"Dystran."

Silence.

"Dys-" he was interrupted.

"Ah, Penrold. You've finally decided to join us again." The words were triumphant if not a little sarcastic, and Pen would not give the Lord of the Mount the pleasure of knowing he had won. The Lord of the Mount laughed aloud. Something which angered Pen more than ever, but he refused to show it.

"If you're suggesting my Lord..."

"I suggest nothing Penrold. I command you. You will become your true self. You are part Demon and you must embrace that part within you. Do so, or die!"

Dystran cut off the communication, leaving Pen angry, scared and not knowing what to do for the best. There was a way, if he could only find a man famed by many in the right circle to have knowledge of magic that could undo even the binds between the mage-created demon souls and their commander, the Lord of the Mount of Xetesk.

This man's name was Youlvi. By this contact Pen could at some point release his bond with his past and Xetesk and forever be rid of Dystran.

What he hoped also was that until the man could help him release his ties, he could help him control the demon within him, and be of some use to Joibri. Oh Gods Joibri, where the hell was she now? Was he too late? It was now or never. He embraced the Demon within, summoning all the strength he could muster in order to haul himself up. Mercilessly the horse had no time to flee as he sprang upon it, tearing it like paper.

~*~

"So we are agreed, a night’s rest here and then back to the campsite. From there you’re sure you can track the kidnappers?" Kane asked Delenar. Delenar flashed a cheeky grin,

"I could track a bird in flight my friend, a bird in flight. Now if you gentlemen will excuse me." He rose from his chair and moved to the bar where the barmaid Kirelle was cleaning glasses. Kane laughed and turned to Youlvi who was smiling happily.

"Is he always like that?" asked Kane merrily.

"No," answered Youlvi, "I have never met him before today but from what Kelthan told me he is very uncertain deep down. He wears such confidence as a mask and right now he is wearing it to cover the hurt. Kelthan was a good man." Kane suddenly smiled,

"Almost enough to make you believe in fate, all this. A chance encounter puts the only man who knows what’s going on, with a tracker seeking to help his only friends and a mage looking for the right thing to do." Youlvi shared Kane’s smile, the knowing twinkle in his eye showing once more. "Well I think I will retire," said Kane rising from the table, his cloak falling back to reveal his mage blade.

"Well I'll be damned, that’s a mage blade," said Youlvi in amazement, "You know Kane you may have a point about fate." Kane, suddenly defensive of his blade, smiled at the elderly mage. "Have you ever fought a shadow Kane?" asked Youlvi. "Because you might find that your blade proves a great ally."

Kane was about to ask what Youlvi meant but the elderly mage bid him goodnight and moved towards the stairs. Kane also retired to his room and lay awake for many hours. Delenar didn't use his room all night.

~*~

Korius was so tired that he didn’t take much in. The girl almost opposite him, the one Jonak had pointed out as the other new mage, kept looking at him. Her confusion of the situation matched his. He was in the Fifth College, Arthimus was alive in some form, but other than that he knew little and realised he would need to contact Dystran soon. But what would he tell the Lord of the Mount? The lies had to be convincing and he wasn’t going to reveal why he had been sent to anyone but Arthimus himself.

Jonak continued his summary of the situation,

"...that we need to move quickly. Our spy reports suggest that the Master is preparing to attack, we have seen increased Shadow activity in recent days." Jonak paused, gauging the response. After some chatting between the members of this would-be forum he continued. "On a more distressing note, we have lost contact with the elf girl." There were gasps around the table. "We think she may have been taken by the Master." The gasps grew. "Also, we have had reports from Gasta's strike group. They have been to Youlvi's house, but there seems to be no word of him."

~*~

Gasta, the former famed General of Xetesk, was not used to walking in the open. He had been killed in action some 10 years ago. Yet his body had never been found. The rumour mill had said his body was taken by the Wesmen, while in truth he hadn’t died at all. Now as the key strategic battle planner for the Fifth College he had been made to leave the college for a special assignment. Find and capture Youlvi - if his information was given to the Master it could spell real trouble for the Fifth College. Little did he know he was too late.

His small band was tired and in need of some rest, and the pub in front of him looked like just the place. He hammered the door open, it bounced hard off the wall. The barmaid's gaze shot straight to him, this was getting better. She was very attractive. Gasta gave a small smile and strode into the pub, having a look at the decor. The elf chatting the barmaid up smiled at them and Gasta sat in the corner for a well earned rest.

~*~

There was cold metal on her cheek. Joibri snapped out of the alter-world, leaving the frozen image of Arithmus behind, and tried to breathe again. Her mind was active, and her eyes were open, though she didn't know who had opened them. She took in the dark swathes of fabric lingering over her, deciding that they realised she wasn't dead, as she appeared to be.

Try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to breathe. And what she assumed was mana kept trickling into her against her will, no matter how hard she wanted to stop it.

'I am not a mage....this isn't how my life was meant to be....I am not a mage...' she thought over and over again.

She heard the darkness above her speak as another of its kind approached,

"We cannot take her to the Master in this condition - Arithmus has begun his plan. She must be taken by mundane methods." The Shadow dragged Joibri's body up with a lurch, throwing her onto a horse and clambering up behind her. "The rest of you, back to the Master. Tell him the elf girl will be with him shortly. I'll take her myself."

Joibri briefly panicked as the rather malnourished horse leapt forward, but then the cold metal was clamped around her torso and she was kept from falling. The horse sprinted down a hill, heading to somewhere she couldn't imagine.

As the alter-world threatened to drag her back in, Joibri fought it, thinking that if she could manage to breathe then all the rest of her control would come back and she could get herself out of this situation. Then she might be able to stop Arithmus gradually flooding her with the Fifth mana.

But until then, she was powerless.

~*~

The screaming had stopped long before the Master had returned to the room now housing the fallen Xeteskian mage. The door was held open for a moment whilst the Master observed the terrified look on Kaynel's unconscious face, the skin pale and drawn across his features, bones threatening to burst through at any second.

"Soon they will," the Master mused, a cold smile spreading slowly across what was left of his own face. He clapped once, and movement came from several positions around the room. The familiar voice came: "Fix him in position, then wake him - I want him alert to his fate when we begin."

Arms and legs were lifted easily with inhuman strength, the mage dragged to another adjoining room and strapped in an upright position, ending up standing in an 'X' with his hands wide above his head. His heavy robes were removed and tepid water poured over his head. The mage woke with bleary eyes, then began struggling when he realised who faced him once again.

"NO! PLEASE NO!!!" he shrieked again and again, but the plea fell on deaf ears.

The Master sat in the corner, and made a motion with his hands. Xeteskian blue mana mixed with other strains, one blood red, the other black as night, before being drowned out completely. Instantly a strange bubble-like shell appeared around Kaynel's body. The mage looked at it confused, but the confusion soon turned to fright when the Shadow construct began to shrink.

Outside the shell tall black shapes appeared, Shadows, each placing an outstretched limb on the shell. The screams came, but no sounds escaped the shape, The Master grinning as his servants fed from the man's fear, then began to grow in musculature as the bubble began touching Kaynel's bare skin. His body seemed to dissolve where the mana touched him, skin searing as if burnt away, bubbling pools of fat being sucked into the Shadows as their hunger grew.

As soon as the bubble covered every inch of Kaynel's being, the shape began expanding again, and the mage's screams came no more as his tissue was simply ripped from his bones, great clumps of flesh torn from limbs then dissolving as they were absorbed through the barrier. Organs burst and mixed with hair and other mush, blood running down the bleached white bones in torrents, but all was taken in by the Master's every hungry servants.

Half way through the feeding process however, the Master ordered them to stop. Reluctantly they backed away, one lingering for a last taste of Xeteskian blood, but waiting for too long as it was slammed into a far wall by the Master. It picked itself up and tried to flee to a dark corner, watched by its kin. With the bubble still in place, the Master motioned towards the escaping Shadow, and encased it in a bubble similar to that holding Kaynel's remains. He moved the Shadow's bubble towards the other, the edges flaring a deep purple colour upon contact before constricting and melding into one shape, forcing the two occupants into the same space. The Shadow spread over the body of Kaynel, fusing with the dead cells. Fingers grew new nails, ribs re-formed and flesh and skin grew back to cover the darkness beneath which now occupied the space once taken by human organs. The transformation was slow, but once finally finished the Master released the Shadow construct, the being inside falling to its knees.

"Rise, my new General," the Master ordered. The figure stood slowly, examining its new vessel. From the outside it was Kaynel, once a Xeteskian Circle Seven mage. On the inside however, grew an evil unlike any other except that which had created it, feeding from the powers it had acquired with its metamorphosis. Its chilling grin at its Master drew an equally cold smile. The Master rose and walked to the door, turning his head slightly to say "Dress that shell in which you stand and come to my chamber. We have some planning to do for when our guest arrives."

~*~

The tavern had seemed empty so Gasta and his four soldiers and two mages decided to stay for the night - they shared two rooms but Gasta had one to himself. A perk of being so high up in the chain of command. He sat on a small chair in his room, thinking to himself.

Gasta could still not understand why a battered and bruised elf was standing at the bar, his face adorned with so many cuts. But what worried Gasta more was that the elf fitted the description of one travelling with the elf girl they were after. He would need some answers from the male elf, and may need to kill him although he hoped he did not have to. Killing came naturally to Gasta now, but even the amount he had done never eased the guilt.

Lost in a train of thought his memories came flooding back like they so often did. A tear ran down his cheek as he touched the wound. The blade had bitten so deep. Gasta knew he should be dead. He remembered that fateful day almost ten years ago. The battle had been long and hard, Xetesk were pushing the Wesmen back but were suffering large losses. Gasta had seen the axe knocked from the hand of Tessaya and had lunged in for the kill only for the Lord of the Paleon tribes to grab a Xeteskian blade whilst falling and slice upwards. Gasta had thanked the gods as the blood poured from his face, and with his last breath he knew he had led a good life. The problem was, he had woken up, somewhere strange and dark. That had been his first contact with the Fifth College; their mages had saved him. And now he owed his life to Arthimus, he had vowed to do his every command.

Gasta looked back on his life. Had he been born to Lystern, Julatsa even, he would be known as a saviour of the world. But now, born to Xetesk, he was a killer of men. He didn’t dislike the men who thought this; he pitied them. But here he was, still alive when he should be dead, a disgusting mark separating his face. The scar was almost straight as it ran from his chin to the top of his forehead. After all this he was still following a madman, too honourable to his word to turn on his master and tell Arthimus that he should be saving Balaia and not trying to dominate it.

~*~

Gailen walked through the city of Julatsa towards the college, stopping only to retrieve his two short swords from the blacksmith. 'Not a single nick again Gailen, its incredible' the blacksmith had said. The spells that had been cast on the blades to keep them the sharpest and finest in Julatsa were a huge pride to the college man and even now he still enjoyed showing them off. The newly-oiled leather and tightened grips made the swords feel like new.

He carried his plumed helm under his arm as he walked the city, nodding his greeting to a few who recognised Julatsa's bravest soldier. He didn't take well to fame, enjoying the company of his fifty far more then the hustle of the city. Hopefully his next task would take him out of the city and back into the freedom of the country - after all his second biggest passion after his swords was riding.

The college guards bowed respectfully, not checking any paperwork. He made his way into the audience chambers, approached the Lady and bowed.

"My lady requested me?"

The elf lady raised her head and smiled. Gailen was an average man, in that he was not particularly attractive and had no defining features. In fact, the reason he was adored by most of the women in Julatsa, apart from his deeds as a soldier, was his armament:

His weapons and armour were outstanding, all tailor-made and constantly shining with fresh oil. The cost of such a fine suit or arms must have been huge, but then Gailen had come from a rich family and had no doubt used his wealth to purchase the piece, having them magically enhanced in every way possible. He could have bought a commission as a General and yet he had joined as a simple guard. One of the few humans in the service of Julatsa's guard he had all the characteristics required of a captain and after gaining much popularity with his fellow guards he was quickly promoted.

Now his fifty were the best. Trained to be the most dedicated and disciplined of all Julatsa's army, they were the elite. And now they were needed.

"I hear you turned down another promotion Captain?" she asked him.

"Yes M'lady, I feel that I would not be able to dedicate as much time to the men if I were to command a full five-hundred." She smiled inwardly. It was exactly the answer she expected.

"How are your men?"

"Ready," he replied.

"Good, they are needed. Tell me what you have about the Fifth and Xetesk’s plans to conquer it."

"I was aware of rumours that a Fifth College has arisen, I have heard no information regarding the other colleges," said Gailen.

"Yes, I have had anonymous information sent to me concerning Xetesk and some small reports of Lystern, but I cannot trust this source alone. I need you to patrol our borders. Be seen. Send a message to the other colleges that we will be prepared for any trouble Xetesk or anyone else wishes to start."

~*~

"So you think I should hire you."

The Master studied the elf mercenary in front of him. Tall and lean, he wore a single curved sword in a back sheath and a baldric of knives. Long dark hair hung loose over a grim face, almost hiding dark piercing eyes.

"No," the Master decided, "You do not impress me. Kill him!"

The Shadow leapt from the corner of the chamber, sword aimed at the assassin. The speed of the attack pleased the Master; his Shadows were deadlier then ever. The killing blow was moments away when the elf leapt back a step. His hands blurred momentarily, the sound of rasping steel screeched through the room then all was quiet. The Shadow was standing still, its half-severed arm hanging loosely.

"Heal that and kill him!" shouted the Master.

The Shadow gripped his arm for a moment then leapt to the attack. Swords clashed as the two fought, but it was obvious the elf was barely trying, he was parrying each thrust and swing without batting an eye and without taking a step. Then suddenly the long scimitar swept out and the Shadow’s arm fell clear. In another blur of movement, the elf had drawn three knives, plunging each one into the Shadow’s chest.

"Interesting..." muttered the Master.

The elf looked confused as the Shadow stood silently still. Its hand tugged at one of the knives to come free.

"You will suffer for your failure," growled the Master to his servant. Raising his hand a bolt of flame shot across the chamber exploding over the Shadow. It fell and disappeared instantly. "I apologise for the test and I will of course replace the knives. I trust you will not fail me." The elf was still staring at the patch of flaming ash on the floor, bewilderment in his eyes. "I am not a patient man," said the Master, an edge of danger in his voice.

"No....my lord. I will not fail you." The Master allowed himself a small smile,

"You will gain great power with me, but fail me and..." he nodded to the pile of ash and molten metal. "Now," he continued, "Time to meet your General."

~*~

Pen stood in the midst of carnage. He'd returned to his own mind. It was the usual way it went if he hadn't allowed his demon self freedom for a while - it would totally consume him, leaving him unable to make any decision over his actions. And after killing the horse in his rampage over the countryside he had encountered a group of mercenaries.

Those mercenaries were now dead, what was left of their torn carcasses spread over an area of several metres; arms, legs and entrails left splattered across the landscape.

A whooshing sound. That was how it sounded, but Pen's demon mind knew it was more than the wind, and his sight confirmed such as he saw the first Shadow appear from the woodland. He turned and ran. His demon powers enhancing his speed, he travelled fast across the rough ground, not stopping for miles until he was sure that none of the Shadows had pursued him. He slowed. Where was he?

"Oh fuck!" Pen realised too late that he'd travelled back the way he'd come. All the way back to the campsite, back to the horse. How was he going to find Youlvi at this rate? How could he stop the Lord of the Mount’s power over him if his luck continued to be as it was?

He slumped to the ground, his exhaustion consuming him at last, and he rested his heavy head between his hands, exhaling sharply through his nose, his eyes slowly closing.

~*~

The night had been a long one, and Kane had not slept much following his discussion with Youlvi and Delenar. He had stayed up long enough to hear the group arrive downstairs, for their thirsts had not been easily quenched, especially when the barmaid retired for the night, leaving the men with the inn-keeper for company. He smiled when he realised where the girl had gone off to, and wondered if Delenar would have a similar look on his weary face when they set out this morning.

What worried Kane was the presence of two mages in the party that arrived, for he had recognised their mana manipulation in blocking out some of the alcohol they had consumed, but their casting had waned and stopped completely by the time they were in their beds. He wondered why a search squad would be here, and then realised that the men could have been here for the same reason as he - for Youlvi.

He dressed hurriedly, packing his baggage after slipping on his boots. He thought about what armaments to wear, opting for minimal wear in the usual dagger pairing sheathed on his forearms, the mage blade around his waist and a small throwing knife in his boot. He could always rely on his spells if needed, he thought as he walked silently down the staircase.

"Good morning Kane," said Youlvi merrily as Kane came down the stairs, "Sleep well?"

"Not really," Kane admitted, "I'm a little concerned about something, but I should probably tell you on the way to the stables. We'll come back for Delenar."

Something in his voice told Youlvi not to ask any more questions and so, with a nod, he joined Kane and left the inn.

~*~

"Must you go?" asked Kirelle from the large bed in the small room. She intentionally let part of the sheet covering her slip away and pulled her most provocative expression.

"Woman, leave your magic tricks to other activities, if I stay any longer my companions will grow old," Delenar replied while hastily dressing. Kirelle laughed,

"I believe it was you who was trying to lure me last night."

"Please, woman," he answered, "You were all over me like a rash! I could barely enjoy my drink."

"Ah!" she exclaimed in surprise. Delenar laughed and was forced to dodge aside from the pillow hastily heading towards him. He leapt forward then and picked up the girl into an embrace.

"I will return, I sw-" Stopping in mid-sentence, Delenar stepped towards the window and gazed out.

Below in the yard between the inn and the stables stood Youlvi and Kane, surrounded by men. They were drawing swords, the sound having been what had alerted him. Seeing one standing right below the window, Delenar hatched a plan.

"Is that window expensive?" he asked Kirelle as he approached her.

"No...it...what’s going on?"

Delenar stole her a last kiss and then leapt at the window. As he smashed through the thin glass and tried righting his fall, he couldn't help thinking it was the most stupid idea he ever had.

~*~

They had just finished preparing the horses and were on the way back inside to fetch Delenar when the trap was sprung. Cursing himself for not seeing it before, Kane looked around. Surrounded on all sides, with the two mages split between swordsmen in a classic pincer move. He noticed Delenar then, in one of the upper windows, who vanished quickly. Realising what he was planning, he turned his head slightly towards Youlvi and asked,

"How good is your SpellShield?"

But Youlvi wasn’t listening. He just stared, as if he had seen a ghost, at his former General. At his former friend. The early dawn light throwing gruesome shadows across Gasta's face picked out the scar perfectly.

Youlvi could see it in Gasta's eyes, the general had a job to do. But it was one he didn’t want to carry out - the pause was only a few seconds but seemed like a lifetime. Youlvi just stared, and Gasta’s men waited for an order as the general just stared back. Gasta didn’t know if he could do it, if he could kidnap Youlvi or, if necessary, kill him.

"How..." started Youlvi, breaking the silence. But then an upper window from the tavern exploded.

All hell broke loose. The falling Delenar landed hard on two of the swordsmen, the three going to ground in a tangle of arms and legs. The incident distracted the entire group long enough for Kane to hurl his throwing knife into the neck of the first mage, who went down with blood spouting out from between his fingers. Kane drew his daggers and set to work with the two swordsmen directly to his left, carving steel patterns into the air as he parried and struck back. One took a wound to the left arm and another to the thigh, the other fell to a vicious double slash across the face. Kane turned to face the second mage, who seemed to be ready to cast, but found his attention drawn to the mess across the courtyard:

Delenar managed to untangle himself long enough to jam a knife into the eye of one of the men beneath him, his screams abruptly cut off with a second slash to the throat. The other man beneath him fared no better, the weight of his dead companion pinning his arms to his side, preventing him from defending himself. The elf leapt to his feet, withdrew his sword and faced his next challenger, a youth new to battle, and his face pale at the sight of his counterpart's blood slicking the floor. Delenar thought his luck must be finally changing, felling the guard easily before another took his place.

Youlvi and Gasta continued their bemused stare, neither one believing what they were seeing. Youlvi, believing the former Xeteskian General dead, Gasta because his quarry was so close he could quite literally touch him.

~*~

Gailen heeled his mount into a gallop, his force falling into the practiced wedge formation.

"Stay tight, swords drawn. Through and out. Shields up."

His force obeyed instantly with practiced precision and galloped hard towards the infantry column. FlameOrbs seared towards the charging mass but Gailen’s eight mages held over-lapping Spell- and HardShields and like the rest of his unit, they were the best.

Gailen yelled as he struck, his twin swords dancing down to strike left and right. His horse slowed but continued to plough through the infantry as they bravely tried to hold. A spear was thrust at him, but was parried by both his blades, the attacker then crushed by his mount. A sword grazed his leg , piercing the chain mail armour but failing to do any real damage. The swordsman was dispatched with a slice to the chest. The battle seemed to last an age before Gailen found himself facing the open plain and broke free from the Xeteskian ranks.

"Wolves with me!" he yelled as his force broke through. The Xeteskian column was in disarray and had no hope of giving pursuit. Gailen's Wolves rode on leaving the ruined infantry behind them. It was an hour or so before Gailen called a halt to make camp and called on a mage to make communion.

"Sir!"

"Speak Kumonai," ordered Gailen.

"Sir, what are the Xeteskians doing attacking us, in our borders?" asked the second-in-command.

"I don't know Kumonai, but I don't hold much hope as to the outcome. How many did we lose?"

"Two sir, Leigren and Antikar"

"Did we recover them?"

"Yes sir, they were held to their mounts."

"They were good riders, we will honour them."

"Their names will make us stronger sir."

"How many did we get?" Kumonai blew out a mouthful of air,

"At a glance sir, maybe one-hundred and fifty, no more."

"You did well, prepare the arrangements. I will address the men."

"Yes sir!" The young warrior strode off barking orders to arrange the sending, leaving Gailen to his thoughts.

"Sir, a message from communion," said one of his mages, approaching the Captain.

"Speak," ordered Gailen.

"Its war sir! We are at war!"

~*~

Dystran slammed his hand on the table. Reports had reached him that a section of the Xeteskian army had met Julatsan forces within Julatsa's borders. A band of Xeteskians who he had not remembered sending out. Earlier he had pulled the forces of Xetesk together, worried that an attack would be coming from the other colleges. But now this was war, someone in Xetesk wanted him destroyed and Dystran was quickly loosing his grip on the college. He had called the remnants of the Circle Seven together to discuss the situation; he was pretty sure one of them was the traitor that had been working with Kaynel. Obviously one of them had sent out the army. As every Xeteskian knew, you didn’t question the Circle Seven.

"I want to know everything, and I want to know it now!" he screamed.

The Circle Seven tensed, knowing this was not going to be good.

~*~

Kane lashed out at the final mage at same time the mage tried to cast a ForceCone, the resultant force struck Kane and flung him back landing hard on the ground. The mage was knocked into Youlvi, bumbling the elder mage off his feet only to land near Gasta's. The general drew his sword ready to strike down his former friend, Youlvi's eyes pleading for Gasta to hold his hand. Silence for a second, then the noise of metal clanging against the floor. Gasta was aware that all eyes were on him, his sword bouncing off the ground.

"No," he said. "Not this time." Youlvi breathed a sigh of relief.

"You have done the right thing my friend," Youlvi replied.

"Yesterday I may have killed you, but today it seems so clear. Seeing you again brings it all back." A tear ran down Gasta's face. "I have dishonoured my word, but will not strike down a friend."

"You have not, Gasta." The realisation hit Delenar and Kane - this was the legendary Xeteskian general. The destroyer of so many lives, killed at the hands of the Wesmen. Youlvi continued, "You have kept your word, you have helped save Balaia." The remaining mage stood up and asked of his general,

"What do we do now?" Gasta paused for thought, pulling all his strength together to stop himself sobbing he replied,

"Return to Arthimus and tell him I was killed. I have died once already, it seems a second time is not so hard to bear. I will join these men in their fight to save Balaia."

Kane and Delenar were not happy. The Gasta of legend was a disgusting, vile man who would kill his own father to further his career. How little they knew of the real General Alarius Gasta.

~*~

"There is a man here to see you, my Lord," said the guard as he entered Lystern's main hall.

"Who is it?" replied Heryst. He was looking through some papers on the main table, alone but for the guard who had just interrupted him.

"He did not give me his name."

"You are a fool. Always take their name." Heryst couldn’t believe his guard had let just anyone get this far. "Let him in then."

A man with a large black cape and hood that obscured his face walked in and stood at the far end of the table. He lowered his hood revealing his face.

"Get out of here," shouted Heryst, "I have no time for you."

"But I have important information," replied the man.

"Get out."

"It seems your friend Vuldaroq was much more..." the man paused for effect. "Accommodating."

Heryst didn’t like this one bit, but if Vuldaroq knew something then Heryst had better hear it too. He pointed to a seat, ‘inviting’ the man to sit down.

"Now, where shall I begin," stated the man, happy that he had got Heryst's attention. For he was Selik, captain of the Blackwings.

~*~

"No you’re not!" shouted Delenar, "What makes you think we want a murdering butcher helping us?!" Gasta remained silent.

"Youlvi give the word and he’s mine," Kane appeared behind Gasta, knife ready.

"No, no, he is here to help. Trust me you two, he is a man of honour who would not put Balaia at harm. Xetesk has made many mistakes, it is them who should bare the blame," Youlvi pleaded.

"Do you how many of my brother Dordovans he has killed Youlvi? Even men who surrendered honourably!"

"I only obey my orders," Gasta stated, "I don't always like them. Just like you I suppose, assassin!"

"Hey!" Kane shouted, growing angrier, "I face my enemies with a weapon in their hands, I don't butcher them."

Gasta stared hard at the floor and the sword laying there. He knew they were right; his deeds had been evil and he had done many things that had brought him shame. He always tried to justify his actions by knowing that he was doing as his Lord wished, but deep down he knew he could not be forgiven. That’s why he had finally broken his vow to Xetesk to follow the inspirational Arithmus, only to find he too was seeking domination.

"Please, let me help you Youlvi." Youlvi smiled and got up onto his feet,

"Of course. Your help will be needed, I take it you are aware of the dangers we face, not only with Arithmus." Delenar shook his head,

"This is madness! Think about this Youlvi!" He paused. "I need a new bow, I will seek out the fletcher and return here within the hour."

"I'll join you," said Kane. Both elf and man looked at Gasta in disgust before mounting and riding out into the town.

"I'm so sorry my friend," mumbled Gasta staring at the elderly research mage, "The mage will tell Arithmus everything."

"I know." Youlvi suddenly smiled that same knowing smile, "I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

~*~

It was mid-morning before the group managed to set off, having cleared the bodies of the fallen swordsmen and their mage counterpart, and the other members of Gasta's hunting party leaving to head back to the Fifth to report the demise of their leader. Riding at a fast pace, the group was quiet, divided. Kane rode ahead with Delenar, his new bow across his back, not wanting to be anywhere near the General but having to rein in their mounts time and again to wait for Youlvi and Gasta to catch up. They were heading back to where Delenar had camped only two nights before in an attempt to pick up the trail of the figure who had taken Joibri. They figured the ride would take a few hours from the inn.

They were not too far from the site when they came across a scene from a nightmare - bodies torn apart, limbs broken and scattered in bushes, one corpse hanging from a tree branch. The sight had Youlvi turning pale, and even Kane's stomach tumbled, its meagre contents landing in what used to be someone's upper torso. Delenar was dumbstruck, trying to keep his eyes on the path ahead, fighting to keep his horse under control. It was the General who broke the silence,

"We should get moving. We don't want whatever caused this to fall upon us."

As much as Kane and Delenar hated the man, they could not help but agree. The four moved on as swiftly as their mounts would carry them, the animals themselves happy to be away from the killing grounds. The riders hoped they would not have to travel back they way they had just come.

"Wait!" called Delenar, "Someone came through here. Fast, really fast." He dismounted and scanned the ground carefully, noting every broken twig and every impression in the earth. Remounting, the group moved on towards the clearing.

The clearing appeared deserted but Delenar called a halt to the party and moved out into the space alone. The bodies of the men who attacked him were long gone, as was any sign of them being there. The ground still showed signs of the fight and Delenar studied the land carefully, recalling every moment of the ambush.

Noticing nothing suspicious he was about to call the party in when he saw something. A new path had been trodden, recently by the looks of it. Very carefully Delenar allowed himself a glance in the direction of the trail. A large cluster of hedges were positioned on the edge of the clearing. Carefully and slowly he unlooped his bow, drew and aimed directly for the bush.

"You leave a trail like a bear and I know you’re there, so come out slowly," he emphasised the last word.

From out of the bush stepped a large well built man. He had no shirt left to speak off, so torn was it and large cuts and bruises were visible all over him.

"They got her Delenar, they got her," Pen whispered with tears in his eyes.

~*~

The Dordovan forces were on the move. After some time considering the facts Vuldaroq had considered it wise not to contact the other colleges. He wanted to take out Xetesk himself. He told himself that he would be doing the other colleges a favour by not bringing them into the carnage. He had convinced himself of that now, hiding away the real reason for the sudden march on the Dark College. If they had information on the Fifth College he needed - wanted - to know.

Vuldaroq stood at the window of his room watching the mage forces march from the college to join the rest of the military just outside the city. He had considered going himself, but then his usual want for answers and not bloodshed took over. Many would call him a coward, but he thought of himself as more intelligent than that. Yet here he was, on the brink of another college war. In less than two days his men would be engaged at the walls of Xetesk, and no one was going to get the prize he wanted. No one was going to gain access to the Fifth College before him.

~*~

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