Rise of the Fifth
The Hidden College Part 1
Pages 91 to 105

Joibri dizzily came back to the remainder of her sense, her head rolling on her shoulders as she struggled a little in Gasta's grip,

"No... where has he gone...Pen..." she turned her head this way and that, only sensing auras she could barely recognise because she refused to open her eyes. Upon sensing that Pen was not in the room, and feeling a sudden fear on his behalf, she tried to turn past Gasta and out of the door, calling, "Pen! Let me go after him! Let me find him!"

Gasta looked at the pitifully frail creature he held, firmly moving her away from the door and managing to sit her on Delenar's bed at the elf's feet. As she slumped against the cold, blood-splattered wall she trailed off,

"Where are my blades..."

"You cannot go after him now, Joibri," Gasta told her. Joibri briefly tilted her head up in his direction, vaguely recognising his voice.

"No, he needs help, my help..." she insisted, despite the fact that a bruise was swelling on her already sallow and cut face from Pen's blow.

Gasta looked at her out of the corner of his eye, then back to the others, as if expecting some explanation - after all, he didn't really know what was going on with this elf. Her hand clenching onto his arm brought his attention back to her,

"At least give me some form of blindfold!" Gasta confusedly took the end of the frayed bed sheet in hand and tore a long strip off, helping Joibri to tie it around her head. "Arithmus I damn you to the void..." she spat, leaning her head on the wall, and her hands unsure of what to do with themselves since they had no weapons to brandish. "You will not conquer me, I will prevail."

Gasta carefully took his hands off of her shoulders - this was so unlike the weapons maker and apothecary he had known before. What on Balaia had happened to turn her into a walking corpse?

~*~

His current state was almost like that of sleep paralysis. His eyes were shut firmly as though glued, and his limbs were so heavy it felt like they'd been forcefully pinned to the ground.

Before him he saw the lad, Donarl, though he didn’t know the lad’s name. He was covered in blood, his eyes wide not in fear anymore, but in an almost zombified state as he staggered towards Pen, his arm outstretched, and a hideous grin on his mutilated face.

He tried to wake up, to move, but nothing he did could break him free of his nightmare.

~*~

It was night, and it was ideal. She didn't care about the risks.

Joibri slowly and carefully walked blindfolded down the corridor. She had thought getting through the group of sleepers was difficult, but now it seemed the greatest challenge would lie when she got outside. Her senses were becoming more and more heightened, as her chosen blindness no longer hindered her. Her own physical weakness now was not an option - she needed to find Pen, and eternal darkness wouldn't stop her, nor the fact that his wild aura-traces were fading fast.

With weapons strapped close to her body to prevent them from ringing against one another, and a blanket over her shoulders and back to cover the ragged, cold holes torn in her clothing, she shuffled her way carefully but as quickly as she could down the stairs and towards a window, since she knew the door to the inn would be locked. Every so often a floorboard would creak, but no sounds or wakening auras signalled awakening friends.

Quietly Joibri managed to unlatch the window and clamber out of it into the shrubbery, proud of herself already for being able to cope without sight and without full strength. She stood out in what she determined to be a wide space, possibly a larger alley, and turned her head this way and that before locating the direction she thought Pen must have gone in. Joibri set off through the night, giving no thought to her own wounds, her own weaknesses or the worries of her companions.

He had gone North, just as she assumed the group had intended to do, luckily. It would take her a while now. She didn't know what in all the hells was happening to him, but she knew it couldn't possibly be good, or something he could handle quite yet on his own. She ignored, too, the burning bruise and welt across her face from where he had hit her.

Another two hours or so into her hindered journey, the aura traces began to grow steadily stronger. She could even hear a stream. Her foot came into contact with something that wasn't grass, stone or shrub, and carefully she knelt down where the aura was strong and felt the object with a shaking hand. It was clothing, and her hand came away sticky with another aura's blood. Her brow creased and her jaw clenched.

The stream was near now, and she wasn't sure quite yet if it was safe to cross it blindly. But she could feel the aura she needed ever so strongly on the other side - she was so close yet so far away - she had to get there.

Joibri reached up a hand and tugged her blindfold up, warily opening her eyes. The world was red, and the sight of it stung her eyes as if vinegar had been rubbed into them. There was a brighter concentration of red around her, but she pushed past it to examine the stream and the shadowed body beyond its farthest shore. She held out her hands and with the utmost caution waded into the stream, ready to catch herself should she slip and fall, which once or twice she did. One quarter....halfway...three quarters... done.

Joibri stumbled onto the opposite shore in relief, finally able to tug her blindfold back down comfortingly. Her hands hit a tree, at the bottom of which was the aura she had so dutifully searched for. She was on her knees and trying to shake the heavy body, calling out tearfully,

"I found you! Pen! Pen it's me! Come back!"

She didn't know what she could do - the alien aura was almost gone, lying in a haze around Pen like clouds over a mountain, and the rest of him seemed to be in some sort of sleep. No matter what was going on within him, he wouldn't budge or wake.

"Pen! Wake up!" she leaned over and tried to shake him harder in desperation, "Wake up!!"

~*~

"Yes! Found it," Lena spoke aloud, her voice full of triumph. It had taken her longer than she had hoped to find the aged manuscript, but luck had been on her side and the other mages had not returned yet. But she knew she had to leave immediately if she wanted to keep her cover. If anyone found her with the manuscript in her hands there would be no plausible explanation.

As she was stuffing the script down her robe, the door suddenly opened and Silt marched in. Lena froze, of all the people to run into...

"What are you doing in here?" he asked her, his voice dangerously low.

"I am.. They sent me.. I... I mean, I had to catalogue some old manuscripts," Lena finally answered, inwardly cringing at how nervous she sounded. What to do? Maybe he hadn't seen her hiding the manuscript. She decided to get away quickly, before he had time to ask anymore questions. "But I have to leave now. Yes, I've taken longer than I should have. Nice seeing you..." But as she wanted to push pass him, he gripped her arm roughly,

"And what have you got hiding in your robe?" his voice sounded, if possible, even more dangerous, "Don't play the fool with me, Lena." He tightened his already painful grip on her as he reached into her robe and pulled the parchment out. His expression darkened further as he saw what she had taken.

The look he shot at her next was one of pure loathing and barely-controlled rage - Lena's stomach clenched when she saw it - she had, in spite of herself, grown to like Silt. He leant in closer, his voice reflecting the emotions that were displayed on his face,

"I had expected more from you... I thought you wanted to see the rise of a new power in Balaia. But now I see you are just as bad as the rest of them... Too weak for a college of our strength. We have no need of mages like you."

With that he turned around and started to drag her along the hall. Lena was frightened now and, what was worse, she felt totally helpless. She knew there was no point in trying to form a spell, Silt would sense the mana immediately. His grip on her arm hadn't let off as he slowed down and approached a door. He knocked at it, barely waiting for the sharp "Enter" that followed. Lena was pushed in another smaller research chamber, in which a tall, pale elf stood. Silt finally let go of her arm and approached the elf,

"Sorry for disturbing you, Talo-eran, but I found something which might be of interest to you," he said and passed the parchment to the elf. Talo-eran looked at it and raised his eyebrows,

"Where did you get hold of this?" he asked. Silt pointed at Lena and answered,

"I stumbled across her trying to get away with it." The elf's sharp, hazel eyes turned to Lena and seemed to bore holes through her. He then returned his gaze to Silt,

"I know you would like to take this traitor to Jonak immediately, but I ask that you leave her here with me. I will make sure that she receives punishment." Silt’s eyebrows raised but he decided not to voice his surprise.

"Of course Talo, as you wish." The elf nodded at Silt,

"You may leave now. Your diligence will not be forgotten of course," Silt nodded, shot Lena another look full of hatred and left the chamber, slamming the door. Lena was in turmoil, what would happen now? The feeling of helplessness was beginning to overwhelm her. The elf interrupted her thoughts, "So Lena, we meet in unusual circumstances."

Surprised, she turned her gaze towards him to find that his mouth resembled something that might be considered a smile. She found it... unexpected. What was going on here?

~*~

Pen felt his friend's grip on his arm, and the useless attempt to wake him by shaking him. He wanted to talk but his mouth would not allow him, shut, as were his eyes still. He couldn't tell if what was happening to him was physical or mental, or even both.

He could still see the face of the boy he had mutilated, his features would forever remain within his mind.

He felt Joibri give up her awakening attempts, and slump down heavily to the ground beside him. She had obviously brought a blanket as she wrapped it around them both, sitting in close to him, warming his slowly freezing body.

Her presence had done something to his condition, whether stopping it, or merely easing it as the boy's face faded into blackness. He slowly lost his grip on consciousness and fell into a deep and blackened sleep.

~*~

"You're wondering what I'm all about, aren't you?" The slender elf placed his hands behind his back, walking around in the space between his desk and Lena. The girl could only nod back mutely, as he expected. "Stay still," he ordered, raising a hand that traced the air a little.

Lena recognised the formation of a spell unfamiliar to her, and though she flinched she kept her ground as the mage placed his hand on her forehead. There was a small flicker of reddish-gold mana that invaded her mind, encasing it in what felt like liquid security. The calm, experienced hand was removed and Lena opened her eyes.

"That was MindWalls, it shall keep your thoughts hidden from Arithmus and other prying mages. It is of my own invention, and I have been using it this past year and three months - yes, that is how long this college has been growing," Lena watched, dumbfounded, as the mage paced to behind his desk and, backlit by the roaring fire, began to pull pieces of parchment out of the drawers. "My name is Talo-eran, and I am one of the five closest mages to Arithmus, called the Hermetic Apostles - it works like the Circle Seven of Xetesk. Despite this, I am, how shall we say... not completely in tune with their motives." Lena felt she could allow herself a small smile when she saw his own - a quiet, small and simple sort of thing that held warmth yet for some reason an element of cold.

"So, how...what's all of..."

"This?" Talo-eran held up a small group of papers, "These are vital documents cataloguing the progress of the Hermetic College, as well as much of Arithmus' spell developments as I could hoard without being questioned. I am a chief spell researcher and constructor, so my actions are rarely called into question." Lena bit her lip - this was obviously a powerful mage to be so close to Arithmus and to actually have all of the things spread on his table - what exactly did he want of her?

"What should I do, then?" she asked, not sure if it was the right question to put forward. The stern gaze fixed on her again, making her shiver.

"We're leaving as soon as possible. There will be a lull in the guard checks whilst the meals are served, and at this time I will take you and what we have gathered, including that essential spell of yours," he handed the piece of paper she had found back to her. "and we will leave by another exit. By the time we are missed, we will be too far away and in presence of a greater yet far more fragile power."

Lena held her breath for a moment - surely he was implying the elf girl the other mages had spoken of? But if he was, how in the world did he know about her and what business did he have with her? She stood silent and puzzled as Talo carefully folded and packed all of his papers and books into a sort of leather, waterproof satchel bag, fastening it tight.

"Care for anything to eat or drink before we depart?" he asked casually, indicating a substantial meal standing on a side table by a subterranean window. Lena couldn't help herself - she hadn't eaten in a while - and when she curiously looked out of the window Talo came to stand beside her, "They are building the Hermetic ManaDais - it resembles a normal college ManaBowl, but this will be far more effective in channelling Arithmus' intentions for Balaia. Unfortunately," he bowed his head, "I have made sure of that."

Lena taking a bite of bread, and Talo a sip of warm cider, they watched the workers put their tools aside and head out of the huge antechamber to the meals that would be waiting for them. This meant it was almost time to go. Her heart raced, and though she didn't know it, so did Talo's, though for an entirely different reason.

~*~

"Donarl!" the voice was angry. The boy had been sent out early this morning to finish the job he'd been given and still it was not finished.

Donarl's father came into a clearing, a pile of rocks were the main feature in the centre. What he saw made him bring up the contents of his stomach. He'd found his son. Or rather, he'd found what remained of the boy.

"Fuck." His hand over his mouth, he turned and ran back towards the village.

~*~

Dystran sat in his chamber atop the highest tower in Xetesk. He finally felt something had gone his way; the Protectors had shocked the Dordovan/Lysternian alliance and had given his few warriors on the walls some respite. He had pulled his armies back, knowing that if the walls fell his military would be desecrated at the same time. Expecting the army at his door step to attack ferociously he pulled back and decided to take them in the streets of Xetesk. But they had been cautious and this had played into his hands - the small group of Protectors he sent out appeared to have stopped the army dead in their tracks.

Now Dystran turned his attention to other problems. Thus far he had failed to find the traitors in his college and had lost control of Pen, but more frustrating was that it had been over a week since Korius left and still there was no word from him. Closing his eyes, the Lord of the Mount felt the mana around him and searched for the young mage’s mind.

~*~

Korius slept for hours but awoke still feeling drowsy. He must have been asleep for most of the day. A banging on the table at the other end of the room had awoken him. He looked over but no one was there, and thinking it must have been part of a dream he closed his eyes and started to fall back to sleep. But after a minute he heard a voice,

"Murderer." Korius opened his eyes and looked for the person responsible. He didn’t expect anyone to be there and found he was right.

‘Not again,’ he thought to himself. Korius placed the pillow over his head to bloke out the noise. It didn’t work, however, because clear as before he heard the voice again,

"I saw what you did." Korius screwed his eyes shut, head still firmly buried under the pillow.

"Go away," he said quietly.

"You’re a murderer."

"GO AWAY!" Korius screamed. He was starting to sweat.

"I saw them, their blood. You’re a stone-cold murderer."

"NO!" screamed Korius. He threw the pillow across the room and leapt from his bed. "I did it for my master," he said. The sweat was now pouring down his face.

"You did it because you’re weak, murderer."

"No," said Korius firmly, and then he screamed, "NO!" As if to find the voice he knew wasn’t there he grabbed his bed and with almost superhuman strength wrenched it over and slid it across the room. Next he moved to the table and chairs. "Show yourself coward!" he shouted, eyes and head darting all round the room. He picked the chair up and flung it at the wall, where it shattered into many pieces. The desk he overturned like the bed. "Where are you?!" he screamed.

"Murderer," the voice just said back. Korius started to sob, desperately looking for the source of the voice. He sat in the corner and viewed the carnage he had created.

"But....but..." he said. "I did it for my master."

He looked across the room, and sitting in the other corner was one of the mages, covered in blood and with a spike protruding from his eye. The head faced upwards, the limbs lay limp and blood fled from eyes, nose, mouth and ears. So much blood, and it flowed like a river. Korius was shaking, tears rolling down his face.

Then suddenly the head moved and the one free eye bored into Korius. The mouth moved,

"Murderer!" it accused in a high-pitched screech. Korius screamed at the top of his voice. Had anyone been there they would have seen his eyes turn a pure bright red before he passed out.

~*~

"Okay, time to leave," Talo said, interrupting Lena's thoughts, "The guards have arrived for their meal." Lena swallowed the rest of the bread she had been chewing and nodded mutely. She felt much too nervous to say anything. But in spite of her nerves she felt relieved that she was leaving... When Silt had brought her to Talo she had thought she would never get out alive again.

She also noted with interest the brief, far-away look that overtook Talo’s features. Little did she know he was probing into the mana spectrum, whereupon his mind’s eye settled upon a dark room filled with burgeoning insanity originating from a sole, new Fifth mage... Talo’s eyes refocused and his attention was brought back, though his brow remained creased.

Talo passed her a longer, thicker robe, which she put on while he finished packing their supplies. When they were both ready, he motioned for her to follow him with his hand. He had mentioned earlier how important it was that they both be quiet. Lena had smiled at that; for an elf silence wasn't much of a challenge, and in including them both in that sentence he was merely being polite.

He threaded his way silently through different halls, changing directions every few steps. Lena knew that without him she'd be hopelessly lost. It was obvious that he knew the college extremely well. Well, he had mentioned that he had helped build the college... She wondered what had changed his mind, made him turn away from the college? Maybe he had been a spy from the beginning... And what was his connection with that elven girl, who seemed to be so important?

As they walked through the night, those questions kept revolving around Lena's mind...

"Here," Talo whispered, stopping directly in the middle of a corridor.

Lena looked around in panic, expecting at any moment for someone to round the corner and see them. The elf knelt, shuffling his body around in a square as he traced a few slabs with one finger. The edges briefly glowed red, and the illusion disappeared, revealing darkness.

"As of yet, we have not built stairs. Do not be afraid, the drop is short." So they were to go farther underground? Was that even possible? Lena could hear water dripping steadily. "I will warn you, the way out is through the mana slipstream that surrounds the college - you do not need to know more about that at the present. You go first, and I shall follow once the illusion is sealed again. No one else knows of it, aside from four of my colleagues. It will hurt, a little. But you are a mage," he smiled, "it will not be so bad for you." He gave her a small nudge, just enough to send the nervous Lena toppling through the gap in the flagstones.

Her body fell only a small ways, and then hit water - or at least, what she thought was water, but turned out not to be...wet... As well as being terribly cold, it held another surprise - Lena opened her eyes beneath the surface of the roughly-flowing canal, and it was a menagerie of glowing reds. Somehow...someway...this 'water' was contaminated with Hermetic mana. And like Talo warned her, it stung to high heaven, like acid.

She looked above her as another splash resonated through the mana-stream, and she saw Talo kick his way back to the surface. There was a glowing of his red and gold aura and a flash above his head. Lena breached the surface of the surprisingly deep canal and moved the hair from her eyes, catching her breath.

"We must travel in this slipstream to another point, which will let us up to the surface. It will be a long climb on the stairs." Lena already liked the way he always warned her ahead of time.

Now, the pair began to swim along to their left, luckily with the current. She was glad this wasn't real water, otherwise their provisions and the papers would definitely have been ruined.

~*~

Joibri shivered, her own weakness setting back in.

She felt a rare moment of womanly vanity, and brought her sensitive hands to her face, running them over and over her face. Every so often she would pull out a large-ish clump of her hair that careless metal claws had ripped from her scalp and toss them aside.

"Even more hideous now than you were before. No wonder Father..." her vanity vanished and anger grew.

Joibri shivered again, and yawned. The night was cold. Shakily she moved under the blanket, curling close to keep them both warm. And only after a moment she, like Pen, was asleep.

~*~

"I leave you alone for five seconds and you lose one of our party - a blind girl who hasn't eaten for days!" stormed Youlvi at the remaining group as they trotted from the small town.

He was furious that Joibri had been lost; he could feel Arithmus tightening his hold again and desperately needed to get to her. He had gone to check on his grand-daughter the night Joibri had gone in search of Pen. He was happy to see that Claera was well and more importantly the ShadowBind spell was working perfectly. Much to Delenar’s annoyance, Youlvi had also taken Kirelle to hide in the room, which was well as she loved Claera as much as Youlvi did.

"Never fear Youlvi, once again I have saved the day. She left a trail disappearing back into the woodlands," said Delenar with a wide, proud grin.

"Those damn woods!" replied Kane.

"Come now brother, it’s been a while since we wondered into uncharted woodlands filled with possible danger. I relish the opportunity."

Delenar had been much happier since he had had the chance to rest, and the wound in his arm and chest was healing so quickly the scar had almost completely formed. Kane on the other hand felt the painful pull of stitches across his chest and found himself envying the elf's healing abilities. Gasta had remained quiet all morning, while Youlvi hadn't shut up.

"Do you realise what could happen to those two? The land is at war you know and more Shadows will be on their way!"

"More Shadows....fantastic! Chance for a little revenge, eh?" said Delenar to Kane.

"I have no idea how you remain so happy," answered Kane unhappily as the group entered the woodlands once more.

~*~

The roar of the battlefield stopped. The Dordover/Lystern forces were on the run, barely one-hundred swordsmen and mages had survived the onslaught. They had been taken from one side by the Julatsan cavalry and massacred on the other by Xeteskian mages and Protectors, the odd man being picked off by guards on the walls. They had found their chance to get out when the Xeteskian forces squared up against the Julatsans.

Here the battle was poised. Silence came across the field, there was a one-hundred-meter gap between either force. They just stared each other out. Even the guards on the wall respected the code of battle and did not fire an arrow or release a spell. After a full ten minutes of silence a hellish screech came from the Julatsan cavalry and they began to charge. The Protectors beamed each other’s thoughts.

Through the demon chain the head Protector Lyx communicated with his brethren,

"Get ready to charge. Strike rider and horse will follow. We are ready. We are one.....Charge."

The Protectors raised swords and axes and charged head-long in the Julatsans. What Xeteskian mages were left held back, preparing spells. The forces clashed, swords were used to block whilst axes bit high into Julatsan flesh. But blood did not flow, it was black and not one Julatsan seemed to fall. Any that were knocked from horse stood up and got ready to engage on foot.

Lyx had caught one in the chest, the rider flung from his mount. Seven more riders had been dismounted. Other Protectors had hit leg and arm but seemed to do no damage. The Julatsans by comparison had taken five Protectors out - one sword was buried deep in the head of a Protector, his mask split in two. The cavalry charged through the Protectors and towards the Xeteskian mages.

On the ground Lyx faced his Julatsan counter part, with Protectors on either side of him. One spun his axe overhead but the Julatsan saw the strike and blocked; this allowed a second Protector to push his sword into the exposed side. Black liquid squirted from the wound and a hellish scream came from the Julatsan. Rather than fall, he pushed the first Protector back with his block then grabbed the sword of the second and wrenched it from his body, knocking the Protector off balance. Further blows came in but the Julatsan was so fast. He parried sword and axe whilst delivering blows with his feet. Three more Protectors were knocked off balance.

The cavalry charge was halted by five ForceCones from the remaining five mages, bodies were flung back and crumpled. Bones snapped and broke, bodies lay crippled on the floor. Every rider and horse was instantly killed. Arms were at strange angles and heads had been pushed back with necks broken. But something was wrong - the Julatsans did not seem right. Suddenly they moved, all their body parts snapping back into position. The horses lay dead whilst the riders stood and moved towards the mages as if nothing had happened. Mages frantically tried to form spells, knowing there was not enough time.

Back in the ground fight the eight Julatsans were holding their own. They continued to block, and any wound they sustained did not seem to hinder them. It was as if they healed instantly.

"Block low, bring axe overhead for power." Lyx told his Protectors, but the speed of these Julatsans was amazing. The only problem they had was the defensive abilities of the Protectors - every time they carved an opening the Protector in question got their guard up. The Julatsan near Lyx pushed back another attack from a Protector and this time got his strike in. He buried his blade into the midriff, at the same time an axe connecting with his back. More black liquid squirted and another scream came.

But the Julatsan, with axe still implanted in his back, simply turned and swung his sword. It was blocked high by another axe, the Protector’s sword coming round but the Julatsan brought up his leg and kicked the sword straight out of his hand. As he went to follow up his strike, Lyx came in with an almighty swing form his axe. It took the head from the body of the Julatsan. The head bounced along the floor, black liquid covering anything near by, and the body just dropped to the floor with the sword spearing into the earth. The Julatsan wasn’t going to get up from that.

A cry came from the Julatsans who were almost on the Xeteskian mages. They turned to look at the area where one of theirs had fallen; for an instant they stopped and then charged once again towards the Protectors. Lyx passed his thoughts onto his brothers,

"Block and wait to strike, remove the heads. We are ready. We are one."

~*~

Youlvi's relief was ultimate when the small party finally encountered Joibri and Pen. They were laid...seemingly in each others’ arms... both asleep and safe. The group set up camp around them, relief and fear mixing as the sun began to set and long shadows grew amongst the trees.

"Are they okay?" asked Kane.

"Yes, though there is much to do." He sighed, moved to the sleeping pair and laid his palm on Joibri's head. Then he woke Pen.

"Youlvi, what are you all doing here? It’s not safe, you don't know..."

"Ssh Pen, I know what has happened and what is happening. Whatever happened was not your fault, you understand? You are not the beast but you must learn to control it."

A tear began to form in Pen’s eye as visions and memories brought a wave of guilt. He realised then he was holding someone and looked down at the sleeping girl. He was astonished by her.

"She came for me..." he said to himself more than to Youlvi.

"Yes, she will help you in your fight and a fight it will be Pen, but you can and must control the beast. He is a guest in your body Pen, YOU have control. You will learn to use it but you must remain strong. Running from those who seek to help you is not wise," Youlvi replied.

"You don't understand what I have done..."

"Pen! It was not you! Whatever happens from this point on, all that matters is that you harness control, it can and must be done," said Youlvi more sternly. His face relaxed then and he turned to stare down at Joibri. "You will be fine, Pen. And take care of her, she is not as strong as she thinks."

Pen smiled, for he didn't notice the sorrow in Youlvi's voice or in fact in his eyes. He watched the old mage prepare to form a spell and uncork a small phial of liquid which he swallowed in one gulp.

'No doubt something to strengthen his abilities,' thought Pen. How wrong he was. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Forming the hardest spell I have ever tried to cast," answered Youlvi.

"You will help her? Help her to escape the magic?" Pen asked eagerly. Youlvi nodded and closed his eyes.

For some hours Youlvi sat with the pair, struggling for concentration as he developed a hacking cough. He was visibly tiring, though he appeared more tired than Pen had ever seen him. He needed a warm room to lose that cough, not a cold hard floor in an empty woodland. Pen admired the old man as he struggled for focus time and time again. Finally he sighed and muttered,

"ManaForm."

~*~

His very being swam in a mana so pure no physical being could tolerate it. He searched for the memories of himself but found only power and magic. He grasped for the past, his hand on skin, grass beneath him but where was he and who was he? Where had his hand been? What grass? Everything was collapsing.

Suddenly a memory surfaced, it was hazy but seemed to fight its way through the red, choking mana. A girl, his girl, no his grand-daughter. Claera! He was Youlvi, a mage and he was here for the girl Joibri! Everything began to clear, his focus restored as he remembered he was sitting in the clearing and had cast his ultimate spell. Now he had one last task.

The red mana began to come to focus in what was sight without sight, more of a sixth sense than anything else. What he found with his focus rocked him but gave rise to a determination like he had never felt.

"Youlvi..." came the voice of none other than Arithmus.

~*~

Kane dropped his CloakWalk as he neared their temporary rest stop, a half dozen fresh rabbits hanging from his belt. The approving look from the on-watch Gasta made him smile - they had eaten nothing but vegetable stew since leaving the inn a day or so ago, and Kane figured a bit of meat wouldn't go amiss right now. They probably should have taken stores from the inn, but they were in such a rush to leave the festering Shadow creatures behind and catch up with their missing comrades that they forgot about the small things, like eating.

He glanced across the miniature camp, seeing Delenar place a cloth of some kind across Youlvi's head. The mage had been out for a good couple of hours since his bizarre casting, eyes twitching behind shut lids as if in communion. The huge form of Pen was resting against a nearby tree, now thankfully clothed. The big man hadn't taken his eyes from Youlvi and the prone Joibri, but Kane had a feeling the smell of food would rouse him.

He opened Gasta's pack and took out the small pans the former General carried and began skinning their meal.

~*~

He was pleased with his servants' progress against the Protectors. They had matched the masked fighters blow for blow and more than outpaced them, although they had briefly been falling in swift numbers thanks to a change in tactics that had seen Protectors favouring manoeuvres that beheaded their "Julatsan" opponents. But they had recovered, and even scored a handful of kills themselves before he had ordered their withdrawal back into the forests.

He marched back into what was now his planning chamber, the already seated "General" Kaynel issuing orders to human and Shadow alike, his eagerness to widen his Master's grip on Balaia almost pleasing the powerful mage. Almost. He spoke briefly,

"Why does the cursed bitch of an elf still live?" his tone was as threatening as the glowing orbs forming by each outstretched fist.

Without waiting for a reply, the spells, an enhanced version of a FlameOrb, powered into one of the human servants, lifting the burning body through the air and smashing the charred corpse into the far wall. The Shadows retreated to their corners, the other humans frozen in fear. The General merely sat, its head turning on the broken neck without any other part of the body moving with it, almost like a child's doll. The black pools that were the eyes gazed at the Master briefly, before the slack jaw moved,

"They are...unsighted, at present my Lord. We still believe them to be within a couple of days from the inn, but we cannot be certain. I believe our best chance will be to take them as they near your Hermetic College, but this will also run the risk of HIM getting to them before we can kill the girl," the voice rasped. The orbs appeared again, but then the light died and the Master took his seat opposite the decaying body.

"Very well Kaynel. Give me your plans, and tell me more about the College War. I am almost eager to hear how the fools believe they can beat my servants.”

~*~

The Julatsan Wolves were just entering the woodlands only a few miles from their destination. They had rested well in the small town nearby though the Old Owl was closed and boarded up for some reason. A shame, Gailen had always liked the small tavern. His men were restless after the ambush by Dordover but they kept their discipline well.

"Only a few more miles lads, then hopefully we can find some answers," he said to his troop. His men obediently smiled and pushed onwards towards the dying light of the sun.

~*~

Mana flashed towards the makeshift swordsman that was Youlvi. His shield of pure mana bore the blow as he swept his own ethereal blade towards his opponent. He was no swordsman, never had been, but this was a battle of magical skill and power represented as a clashing of mana swords. And he was losing.

Arithmus aimed another high blow which was met by Youlvi's blade, but the former had planned the move and released a bolt of energy from his left hand. It took Youlvi high in his "chest" and he felt a pain like nothing he had felt before. It was a pain of the soul rather then physical hurt. He lashed out with his own power, twin flashes of light searing from his "eyes". Arithmus staggered under the onslaught, his ethereal shield barely containing the power, but he held firm while Youlvi's remaining power diminished.

Exhausted, Youlvi stopped his attack to face his old master.

"You are too wise to have come here, how did you expect to beat me, old man?" asked Arithmus.

"Arrogance is your greatest weakness Master, it is why the Other always had an edge over you," he replied.

It was the wrong thing to say. Arithmus exploded in rage and a wall of mana force struck Youlvi, sending his soul screaming. He desperately tried to recover but Arithmus was faster and pinned Youlvi down in a blanket of red mana.

"The Master has always been my inferior, he could not even find the Fifth! I am more powerful than Septern now, I will rule with your body, slave!" he laughed at the look of terror on Youlvi's face, "And so now you know, Youlvi. The elf girl will suffer next, then everyone else in your pathetic group. Now die, old man!"

The ethereal blade slashed into Youlvi’s very being, his ManaForm shattering.

'I did not fail you Joibri, I held him long enough.' His final thoughts were of his grand-daughter, bringing whatever in this alter-world that was akin to a smile.

And then his world turned to darkness.

~*~

Pen woke after dozing for a while. He felt for Joibri's breath on his chest but realised she was no longer sleeping against him. Rather she was laying beside Youlvi some feet away. She was still sleeping though; this was expected after her ordeal with the ride with the Shadow. Youlvi on the other hand was perfectly still, but his eyes betrayed his trance state. They were moving furiously beneath closed lids. Pen looked to the small fire in the centre of the clearing. Kane and Delenar were there both chatting and keeping watch while Gasta, who now seemed a welcome addition to the duo, was eyeing the food being prepared by Kane.

Pen felt strangely at peace for the first time in a long time. He had already known Youlvi was right, these people were his friends and pushing them away was the last thing he needed. He smiled to himself, determined not to let his situation depress him any further. He looked over at the sleeping Joibri once more, the smile deepening, then returned his gaze to the silent mage opposite her. Youlvi was still sitting there motionlessly, his face had turned incredibly pale and a film of sweat cloaked his forehead. This was obviously a side effect of whatever spell Youlvi had invoked and Pen looked away without a further thought.

Then he quickly looked back. He studied the old mage carefully, not aware of what he saw. Just as he had looked away he could have sworn he had seen Youlvi's eyes open briefly and what he had noticed disturbed his peace.

He could have sworn that his eyes had shone a bright red.

~*~

Arithmus felt worse then he had ever known. He had spent so long as a ManaForm he had almost forgotten how to control a human body, but he grasped control with an iron determination. It took time for him to realise things at first. Such as he was breathing, something he had not done in years. He knew he was sitting in a small woodland clearing and that the elf girl - who no longer needed to live - was laid perfectly in front of him.

‘What luck!’ he thought. Who would have thought Youlvi would provide his old master with the perfect way back into Balaia. He had to admit, he had started to doubt that he would be able to secure the girl and use her to return but Youlvi had now provided the perfect vessel, if not a bit old.

Arithmus set to work on strengthening the body. The muscles were small and the senses no longer sharp - also a racking cough had developed due to the rapidly decreasing capacity of his lungs. As gently as he could, Arithmus used his awesome power to start trickling mana into key areas of the body, like he had tried to do with the girl. He would still do that to her for the time being, though - perhaps when the time came she could be a valuable weapon.

He smiled inwardly. Soon he would be ready to awaken and claim his Hermetic College. This pitiful group would die under his hand and then only one minor obstruction would remain, and he was no threat to the most powerful mage on Balaia. He smiled again as he pictured the Master as he once knew him.

‘Oh yes,’ he thought, ‘You will suffer more then anyone!’

~*~

The battlefield lay silent once again. Too many Protectors had fallen but Xetesk had won the battle. Lyx marshalled his remaining force, and they still moved with speed and removed the masks from fallen warriors. Whilst this ritual went on, the mages moved to where the battle had taken place. Bodies lay broken, arms twisted and heads snapped back. But that was just the Protectors and Dordover/Lystern force. The Julatsan forces lay in almost perfect condition bar the lack of heads.

Niera, lead Xeteskian mage of the attack, needed answers. He still could not understand the skill and intensity of the Julatsan attack. He walked slowly to one of the fallen warriors, the body lay perfectly on its back. Black liquid oozed slowly from the neck. A few feet away lay the head, and when Niera bent down and picked up the head, black liquid ran down the front of his tunic. Holding the head in his right hand he slid up the mask at the front of helm. Shock engulfed him, and he dropped the head which bounced along the ground.

That was not Julatsan. That was not human.

~*~

The two men and woman stood looking down at the man who lay on the bed before them. A shivering wreck, the man had once been a tough, loud-mouthed brute of a man; now he merely laid there, his skin pale and sweat running freely down his face.

"Ripped, torn, dead..."

"It's all he's managed for hours, Julina," the taller of the two men said to the woman.

"My Gods," she whispered, "It's Donarl. I know it is." Horror was evident in her face.

"Donarl?" the second man entered the conversation.

"Her son," the other replied softly.

"By the Gods what's happened to Donarl?" Julina was now becoming panicked herself, chewing her lip and her eyes flitting about the room in some vain hope to find comfort in her surroundings. "What could have happened to him?" she choked.

"Well, I heard that -" the second man didn't finish his statement before his friend elbowed him in the ribs, nodding his head towards the door.

"We'll be outside if you need us Julina." The two men exited. When they were outside the barn the taller man turned. "What were you trying to do, eh? Make them worse? Their son is most probably mutilated somewhere out in those fields and you're making suggestions as to how it might have occurred! It's not the priority right now. Finding the boy is. However what is it you felt so important?"

"I'm sorry Karil, I heard this from a traveller..." Karil scoffed at the statement his friend had just made.

"A traveller? And you find them resourceful do you?"

"Just listen will you? You're not going to like it." Karil listened, and no, he didn't like it one bit.

~*~

Joibri didn't understand it, but for some reason she felt it was incredibly vital that she was awake. Maybe it was for food, maybe it was for something else. Either way, she forced her weakened limbs to stir, letting them move whichever way they wanted to at the moment over the cool grass. She felt the warmth of the fire, and it was good. Joibri turned over onto her side and rubbed the blindfold a little, still not willing to take it off.

She detected their auras - Pen, strengthening and behind her, then Delenar and two others whom she did not know the names of, though one of them belonged to the voice she had found so familiar. And then, Youlvi, whose aura was...she furrowed her brow, trying to decide whether it was...changing...or just strengthening.

She could sense the others' attention being focused on her now, too, and she didn't know what to say to them - sorry that she had run away? Sorry that she seemed to be the one dragging them into a mess far greater than they knew?

~*~

The mage pair emerged into the night out of a hollow tree, stretching. Talo had led Lena up the longest ladder she had ever come across, up out of the mana slipstream beneath the Hermetic College on rungs dug into the rock face that must have carried on for longer than it would have taken to go over the walls of Xetesk. She was glad it was over, and the air was fresh - she didn't realise how...metallic...the air had tasted down below.

"Where are we off to now?" she asked, cracking the bones in her ankles.

"It will take us only an hour if we do not stop. There is a small group of, how can I call them - 'travellers' - in that direction," he pointed directly East. "You and I seem to walk quickly, so it will not take us long to cover the few miles, unless you'd rather we used other methods?" He smiled, but Lena was still unsure,

"Other methods?" Did he mean ShadowWings?

"As the chief spell researcher I was obliged to incorporate some of the old spells into new usage, so yes, it would be ShadowWings of a sort. If you cannot form them then I'll carry you. Might I also add, that if we choose this method, then we will also be safe from the enemies."

"Enemies?" Lena shuddered - she hadn't counted on that. "I...I can form them, just...not very well yet. I'll try though."

"I'm sure you'll do fine," Talo encouraged, glad that his persuasion had worked - who knows what they might have encountered otherwise.

~*~

The Shadow edged closer to the clearing, slipping through the woodlands without a sound. It could see its prey so closely and with thirty of its brothers it could not fail. But it would still act cautiously, for too many of its brothers had failed and it feared the wraith of its Master.

'The circle is complete,' echoed one of its kind.

The Shadow was hesitant. Everything was ready and the task seemed almost too easy, yet something didn't sit well with the newly-appointed leader. It focused its attention on the big man in the group. It was this man who had terrified his brothers last time they were attacked, they had reported him to be a Skalah, something that the Master assured them was impossible, but the thought alone brought a wave of fresh fear to the creature.

'The Master has assured us it is not one of the dark-touched,' pulsed a brother that had felt its leader’s fear.

'Yes, the beloved Master safeguards us from them.'

With the confidence of its kind behind him, the leader prepared to move forward but noticed some activity in the small clearing. Slipping back into darkness it studied the group closely.

~*~

Arithmus raised his new form and stretched luxuriously. The muscles were tight but well formed now and strength flowed through the mage. Suddenly he convulsed and coughed painfully, a new wave of weariness striking the body. Remembering he was new to controlling the human body, Arithmus did not panic and focused on the girl lying near him.

She looked peaceful now she was free of him, arms slowly moving over the grass gracefully. It was almost sad how ironic the situation was. She had just found freedom thanks to Youlvi and would now die by Youlvi’s hand. Searching for the best way to approach the situation, Arithmus addressed the group,

"You will all surrender or the girl dies," he said calmly.

Joibri quickly focused on Youlvi's voice. The aura had changed again to one she found only too familiar.

"Arithmus?" she said, trying unsuccessfully to keep the fear from her voice. The group surged to their feet but drew no weapons. They were struggling to understand what they were seeing.

"What are you doing Youlvi?" asked Delenar.

"Silence elf!" Arithmus yelled. "I am Arithmus and you will do as I say." Kane looked in shock, his eyes attuned to the mana spectrum to confirm the truth.

"It’s not possible! What have you done to Youlvi?!" he demanded. Arithmus/Youlvi laughed,

"That old fool! He thought he could destroy me with his own ManaForm. He is dead and thanks to him I have been able to return!"

"What?! Youlvi what is going on?!" asked Pen, not quite ready to believe this was another being entirely. Arithmus whirled on the man,

"Ahh, the demon-man. You will be the hardest to kill so you shall die first." His arm surged upwards to point at Pen, a spell on the edge of his lips.

It was then that thirty Shadows attacked.

~*~

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