We are One

Toryn moved with urgency through the trees and bracken of Grethern Forest, the wan light of the moon providing just enough light to navigate by, he slowed and edged around the trunk of an old oak, his padded shoes all but silent on the damp forest floor. He surged forward again but his foot caught a protruding root and he went sprawling.
His CloakedWalk dropped, the Xeteskian mage landed with a grunt, the voices behind him were gaining intensity and he could see the dull glow of torches and lanterns shining through the foliage as they drew nearer. Having decided that another CloakedWalk would be folly, Toryn stood up, gathered the last of his stamina and formed the mana-shape that could save his life. A few moments later, he was ready,
‘Deploy,’ he murmured and, with ShadowWings shaped for speed, he shot upwards, bursting through the canopy into the night sky. Shouts arose from the small force following him, they came to a halt and Toryn watched them briefly, hoping for them to give up; his hopes dashed as a trio of FlameOrbs soared from the rear of the group, he smiled as he dodged the Orbs with ease. Their desire to see him killed gave way to hasty decision making that did nothing but deplete their stamina. He backed off and banked to turn, as he did so, he saw a mage fly up and speed in his direction. A ForceCone whistled past him, tearing through branches, sending leaves and twigs flying.
A chunk of wood hit Toryn in the cheek, thrown off balance he fell a few feet before regaining the hold on his wings; he swooped low, blood now flowing freely from the cut in his face and sped off west over the forest, attempting to throw off his aggressors. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the airborne mage give chase, Toryn trimmed his wings for manoeuvrability and dived lower re-entering the forest. Darting between the great trunks, the Xeteskian flitted left and right, desperate to shake his pursuer.
Aware of his limited mana-stamina, Toryn quickly pulled up through the canopy again, he hazarded a glance behind and could no longer see those who chased him, he turned southeast, shot across the last of the forest, and out over the grassland. He flew hard and fast for an hour, before his ShadowWings flickered once and dispersed; the exhausted mage fell to the ground from a mercifully low height and landed in a small growth of heather. Toryn dragged himself to his feet and assessed his surroundings; he recognised these lands and the stark mountains that rose sharply to his right told him that he had landed in the foothills of The Burrs. He staggered for a further twenty minutes until he found a small rocky outcrop, then, finally, he allowed himself to rest.

It was early evening and, as the sun sent a warm glow over the surrounding countryside, a soft breeze played about the cleft in which the Dark Mage slept. He slowly awoke and shook the grogginess from his mind, standing out on the hillside Toryn yawned, stretched his still weary limbs and looked down the gentle slope, the sight he saw made him duck low and scrabble back inside the outcrop. The men who were following him were back, and they had help.
Eight of them, tall men -if ‘men’ was the correct term- walking in perfect stride, adorned in black leather armour and all wearing identical ebony masks, Protectors, behind them rode eight mages, above circled their familiars and at the rear the forty-or-so men from the previous night. They really wanted him dead. Toryn breathed in deep and assessed his casting capability, the days rest had done him good; he could probably make it the ten miles to Korina with just enough to defend himself. Probably.
For the second time Toryn dragged on his dwindling mana-stamina and for the second time formed the shape for ShadowWings, He crawled out of his hiding place, wings folded at his back, crouched behind a boulder, let out a deep sigh and stared towards the spirals of smoke that told of Korina’s many cook and beacon fires. Toryn stood up and ran forward a few paces before soaring into the air, he kept close to the hard rock faces of The Burrs and was a good three hundred yards away before the shouts of men and screeching of Familiars reached his ears.
Toryn landed near the centre of Balaia’s capital city and dismissed his ShadowWings, he knew the mages and Familiars would be on him soon and the Protectors would not be far behind, he had to hurry. Running down a side street he found the house he was looking for, a low wooden building squeezed between two storehouses, after battering on the door he paused, the sound of a latch lifting preceded the door creaking open. Toryn pushed his way inside and immediately began casting, a few moments later the door flew shut, hinges and timbers fizzing and cracking. Toryn walked over to an upholstered chair and slumped down.
‘Toryn, what's going on, why the WardLock?’ the elf-mage who spoke was tall and well muscled, his young face pulled into a frown at his friends abrupt arrival,
‘It won’t hold them,’ said Toryn, staring into the flame of a nearby candle.
‘Who?’
‘Xetesk, eight Protectors, Mages and Familiars, all coming here to find me.’
‘Gods! What have you done to provoke that sort of reaction?’ the elf had pulled up a stool and now studied Toryn’s face, looking for answers he wouldn’t find, he knew Toryn to be a radical Xeteskian but to have Protectors assigned to kill… him he had to have done something major,
‘It’s not what I've done, Lakan, it’s what I know. You have to go to Julatsa, Lystern and Dordover, Xetesk has to be stopped,’ Toryn was solemn and didn’t seem to be making much sense,
‘What do you know?’ Lakan chose to be calm and not press his friend too hard; he looked very tired after all.
‘Xetesk has developed a spell, I never knew until three days ago, they kept it quiet and with good reason. You need to leave tonight, travel and rest in Pontois for five days to ensure you aren’t followed, then move to Dordover.’
‘What spell Toryn, why is it so important? I need more information if I’m to notify the Colleges,’
‘It’s called, rather unimaginatively, CallForth; it strips the soul and invokes the Protector calling on any target, whether they are Xeteskian or Lysternan, Mage or Non-Mage, Man or Elf, Balaian or Wesman.’ Toryn was silent and watched Lakan’s face change from shock to anger, finally resting on disbelief and stark realisation of the new spell’s enormity,
‘All Xetesk would need to do is raid a few Wesman towns and…’
‘There could be thousands of them. Xetesk would be un-stoppable and inevitably force dominion.’
‘Gods falling,’ Lakan went pale and was suddenly very aware of the small force searching for the Dark Mage sitting opposite him,
‘That’s why you need to tell the other colleges, leave, now.’ Toryn stood up and walked toward the WardLocked door.
‘What will you do?’ Lakan stood as well, picking up his friend’s train of thought,
‘They can’t know I told you this, I will distract them.’ He turned to the young elf, who nodded,
‘I understand, farewell Toryn, the Gods will see you safe,’ Lakan smiled and pulled the Xeteskian into a brief embrace, he then shook his hand, Toryn chuckled, a sparkle in his eye,
‘You make it sound as if I’m just going to walk into the claws of a Familiar. I'm not spent yet.’ He dismantled his WardLock and stepped outside, Lakan briefly seeing a smile on his face.

Toryn walked along the alley and watched as a sleek black cat shot past his leg, they wouldn’t be long; he dropped his head to his chest and began. Five minutes later three mages, their familiars and only one protector rounded into the alley, overconfidence in their ability would prove fatal; he would make sure of it.
A mage stepped forward from the group.
‘Its over Toryn, you have eluded us for several days, impressive but not enough.’
‘Ahh, my dear Aylan, for you it is never enough,’ his arms crossed against his chest, Toryn glared at mage he had called his friend not a week before.
‘Well it seems that you-,’
‘HellFire.’ Toryn had no desire to prolong the situation by talking; he thrust his arms toward Aylan, using all of the remaining stamina and hate in his body. The few extra minutes of preparation making all the difference.
Seven columns of soul-seeking fire rained down toward the mages and their guards, Aylan’s cocky smile dissolved a heartbeat before the Protector’s innate shield cracked and his body, engulfed in flame fell lifeless to the ground along with those of his companions, the Familiars and the lone Protector.
Lakan flew high, gliding on the thermals above Korina and smiled sadly when he saw the HellFire columns; he trimmed his wings for speed and set a steady pace to Pontois.
Toryn laughed much without humour, he had accepted the death he knew was coming, moments later the remaining Protectors advanced on him, he was surprised when they merely held him in an unshakeable grip, the five remaining mages approached him.
They spread out in an arc, one stepped toward him and began to cast. The realisation hit Toryn just as the mage completed his casting. The last things he saw where smiles of the mages opposite him. The last thing he felt was his soul being torn from his body and the first words he heard spoken into the ensuing darkness…
We are One.