erotica Untitled Fantasy Fiction

[IsabellaRose]

This is an old idea I thought I'd try to breathe some fresh life into...

 

[IsabellaRose]

1. Tower Notch

Just south of the narrow isthmus connecting the northern continent of Sentris to the southern continent of Trellan, the Barrier Mountains rose in a precipitous cliff face. The craggy, weather-beaten range stood out against the blue sky like claws reaching from deep within the earth to pluck the very clouds from the sky. From the north, it was an imposing sight, the sheer rock face offering no means of passage save an unused remnant of what was once a mighty paved roadway.

The broken stones paved a path straight to the mountains of broken rock and talus that sloped up the base of the cliffs. Here it turned and began to climb upward at a steep angle along the cliff face, the road carved into the living rock. Five hundred feet it ascended before the first switchback, where it turned in the opposite direction and climbed another five hundred feet. The number of switchbacks it took as it cut back and forth across the cliff faces separating north from south were too numerous to count, and the air grew colder and thinner higher up. At its zenith, the road turned and headed directly south. 

Here, between two snow-capped peaks, sat Tower Notch. The road had been carved through the living rock in a deep, man-made canyon, walled in by large cliffs on either side that led to a massive gate of iron and stone. The walls were spotted with narrow arrow slits, and massive mechanical war machines stood at the southern end prepared to defend the way south. In ages untold this manufactured gorge had been manned by hundreds of soldiers, protectors of the south from northern aggression. Now the ancient siege weapons lay in disrepair after centuries of neglect. No soldiers manned these walls. Only the moaning wind moved through this gorge as it blasted through the jagged peaks of the Barrier Mountains themselves, howling as if bemoaning the ever present cold.  

Beyond the gate, built into the side of the mountain itself, a black tower reached hundreds of feet past the top of the cliff and poked defiantly up into the sky. For all its height, it was still well below the top of the peak beside it. The roof of the tower was pointed to let snow drop off, and it swayed almost imperceptibly with the wind, from the pointed rooftop all the way to the base. Looking up from the roadway made it seem as if the tower could topple at any moment. But it had stood for centuries, bending to the wind but never breaking.

In the highest floor of the tower Sylla Aerwyna Vardanya, Tower Mage of the Southern Free Lands, stared out toward the north. Her coat and hat were thick, fur-lined, and pure white, her raven hair standing out in stark contrast. Gloved hands on the window sill, she leaned forward as she looked out. The glass rattled in the frame as the wind hammered against it from outside.
  
"I don't care what the spies or the other mages say, they are coming, Your Highness." Sylla turned to face her companion in the single room atop the tower.

Queen Anastasia Galanos of the Free City of Eletheria was even younger than Sylla,  but the blonde-haired queen looked nothing like the Tower Mage. Sylla's complexion was pale, Anastasia was deeply tanned. Sylla's hair was long and straight while Anastasia's was curled and bounced as she turned her head from side to side. The queen wore an elegant, fur-lined purple robe over a gown of the finest silks. A small hat, also fur-lined was atop her head, and the muff that hung at her waist was similarly lined with furs, all in matching purple.

"Sylla," Anastacia said. "It is only us. Titles are not necessary."

"My apologies," said Sylana. "Ana, this is an official visit. As such..." 

"I won't have you calling me 'Your Highness'. We are friends. Let us at least enjoy that much before we are forced into formalities for this meeting."

"I'm sorry. There is more weight pressing down with the title of Tower Mage than I expected." Sylla crossed to the table in the center of the room and gazed down at the map spread out there. "We are unprepared for war with the north."

"We are prepared. Our armies are ready. I am ready. I will defend the South as will the forces of Eletheria. No army can get through Tower Notch."

Sylla shook her head. "I know you are ready, but what of the other Free Cities? What of the Jungle Coast or the Riverlands?" Sylla's fingers slid across the map, pointing out the various kingdoms as she mentioned them. "And I know no army can get through this pass, but an army is not my fear. You know who plagues my dreams. He knows that he'll need to get rid of us before taking the South."

Anastacia's smile faltered. "He wouldn't. Not to us."

"We're not his friends anymore," Sylla said. "He is as much our friend as the Emperor himself."

"Right." Anastacia sighed. "Bellaqua isn't helping us with that any. I receive more and more reports of pirates raiding ships from the north. They are supposed to be our allies, yet they incite the northerners. They need to be stopped."

"And how would you convince them to stop?" Sylla asked.

"James is part of The Circle. We talk to him." Anastacia said seeming frustrated.
  
Sylla grinned. "He and his queen are as much pirates as anyone on their islands. Just be happy that they leave the ships heading to and from Eletheria alone."

"They're criminals Sylla." Anastasia set her jaw. "They should be stopped."

"Are you going to stop them? Would you undermine the freedom that the south is built upon?"

"Freedom?" Anastacia barked out a short laugh. "Like the freedom of the slaves of the Maze?"

"I don't approve of it any more than you do," Sylla said. Her shoulders slumped with a sigh.

"Then why can't we do something!"

"Do what, exactly? Start a war? Break the circle? Have you ever seen Xidig without his slaves? His magic depends on those girls; he will not give them up lightly. We can't tell people what to do. Change must be slow, and we must have allies. At a time like this we need to put our efforts into mutual self defense."

Anastacia rolled her eyes. "There will always be an excuse. You'll never face that things need to change in the South Sylla."

"Someday, Ana," Sylla said, closing the distance between them and grasping her friend's shoulder. "We're still young. I've only been Tower Mage for a few years.  You've just been crowned. Once we have things with the north settled, I'll keep my promise. We'll change the world, you and I.”

[IsabellaRose]

2. The Stillhalle, Altenburg

Nearly fifteen hundred miles northeast of Tower Notch lay the walled City of Altenburg, capitol of the Zauberei Imperium. The name literally meant "old fort", and the city sat on the site of the oldest known settlement in the Empire, where the raging River Wutend flowed into the wider, slower moving Strombarkasse. Despite being razed on three separate occasions, the city had been rebuilt and continued to grow year after year. Now it sprawled over both banks, paved streets and stone buildings stretching towards the horizon. Dozens of high, arched bridges connected the old city to both of the newer sections across either river and a bustling harbor stretched along both sides of the Strombarkasse.

As the political seat of the Empire, the city also housed the headquarters of most of the artisan guilds, as well as the first college opened by Emperor Maximilian II nearly seven hundred years ago, the venerable Collegium Omnia, the model after which all future Imperial colleges and schools would be built. Anyone with any clout in the Empire had offices or residences here; it was the most populous location within the Empire.

The city had a life of its own. It was known not only for its amazing architecture, landmarks and historical sites, but also for the variety of cultural experiences available: musical and theatrical performances, dancing, and a variety of entertainment, food, art, clothing, and furnishings from every territory within the Empire were available here. The Grobermarkt, the largest open air market in the known world, surpassing even the tent-covered market square of Buyuk Sehir in the western desert, boasted over fifteen thousand stalls and attracted over two hundred thousand visitors a day. The entertainment district never closed, and crime was rare. Not surprising, given the strict punishments doled out to lawbreakers. 

At the center of this mass of buildings and people was the Altstadt, the "old city", and within the high walls surrounding it lay the Emperor's palace, the vast marble structure known as the Geldschloss. Beside the massive palace stood a domed building with four towers of different heights at each corner: the Stillhalle. The highest tower loomed over the city, towering over even the Geldschloss. The Stillhalle was the guild hall of the most powerful group of men and women in the Empire, a group whose members were as unique as the city in which they now met.

By whatever name they were called in their home lands, be it mage, sorcerer, bruho, warlock, draoi, or wizard, when they were assembled here they were known collectively as the Imperium Magus. They were the most skilled wielders of magic in the Empire, brought together from every province and protectorate, sworn to defend the Empire and answerable only to the Emperor himself through their leader, the Magnus.

Magnus Balthazar Rigas strode into the council chamber and headed around the circular table towards the chair of the Magnus opposite the doorway. As he dropped into the chair, three disciples converged on him, brief dresses barely covering their bodies, each with a training collar around her neck. One girl poured him ice cold water from a large pitcher, another lay a tray of fresh fruit on the table before him, and the third, the dark-haired one called Lila that he had come to favor, knelt at his feet, lying her head in his lap. The disciples were an added perk to his position. Though all the members of the Imperium Magus played a role in their training, only the Magnus and his right hand commanded them outside of their classwork, and only the Magnus used them as his personal altilium, a kind of magic battery, from whom he could draw energy.

Lila had an apparently unbounded inner energy. Many times he had invoked powerful tantra using her as his focus, though in truth he had chosen her as his favorite because she reminded him of his betrayer, his usurper, his lover. Lila was strong, but she would never be as strong as Sylla, never allow him to attain the power he would need. His thoughts darkened when he thought of the need, of what they may soon face.

As Balthasar's face darkened to match his dark thoughts, Idomeneus entered, tossing a gonni fruit in the air and catching it, a smile on his youthful face. One glance at the Magnus and Idomeneus caught the fruit one last time, hid it behind his back and bowed low. When he straightened, he broke the silence in the room.

"The shadow cast by that cloud above your head makes you look ten years older, my friend."

Balthasar looked up and then reached wordlessly for the tankard of cold water before him.

"Tell me, Magnus," said Idomeneus as he made his way around the table, "what troubles the second most powerful man in the Empire?" There was a hint of mockery in his tone.

"What doesn't trouble me, Idomeneus?" Balthasar gulped some water from the tankard, then set it back down. "The Emperor has barely secured his new conquests in the east, and already his thoughts turn southward. We all feel the evil stirring in the northern wastes. Shiploads of Tapone arrive almost daily, refugees from lands unknown, and no magic can determine what fear drives them across limitless oceans to our shores. We are already spread thin, and now rumors of rebellion in the southwest."

"Rebellion?" Idomeneus set the gonni fruit on the table and looked questioningly at Balthasar. "Again?"

Balthasar met Idomeneus' eyes. "They say Malik Sala gathers his forces."

"Malik Sala?" Idomeneus was incredulous. "Impossible."

"Are you so certain?"

"That portal can never again be opened. His banishment was permanent. We saw to it ourselves."

Balthasar snorted, the closest to a laugh he could manage. Lila stirred and looked up into his face as he shifted his weight in the chair. The other two disciples stood ready at either side. "We knew almost nothing of the place we sent him. The portal we opened was permanently sealed. Who is to say there was not another?"

"There can't be. It is a lie, plain and simple. The southwest has always caused trouble. Rumors of Malik are the only way they could raise any resistance after the Emperor punished them for their last uprising."

Balthasar sighed. "I hope you are correct, old friend." He motioned the disciples forward and they came to either arm of his chair, both touching him, practically draping over him. "Fewer and fewer are called to our service now."

Idomeneus laughed. "Enough for you to have three of your own personal altilium." He eyed the disciples. None spared a glance for him, as they were all attending to the Magnus.

Balthasar chuckled. "Being Magnus has its privileges. Still, you know as well as I that we don't have the same pool of talent we once had. I won't argue that some of our disciples are more promising than others." He reached one hand down and ran it along Lila's cheekbone, the other reaching up to twirl the hair of the blonde beside him. "But we cannot defeat Malik again, not while we must also keep the peace in the newly conquered east, locate the evil in the north, determine what fear drives shiploads of refugees before it, and bend our will towards the south. No, I can count on one hand the disciples that may ever sit on this council."

Idomeneus pulled out a chair, spun it around, and sat on it backwards. "What of Vasilis?"

"Vasilis. He cares more for swordplay than his studies these days. How am I to train him when he won't even attend his lessons?"

"The Emperor demands his son be..."

"The Emperor demands much, Idomeneus, and listens overmuch to that witch he calls consort rather than the council of his trusted advisors."

At that moment, the doors banged open, startling all five occupants of the room. Balthasar looked up to see Kamala enter. The Emperor's consort moved with elegant grace, her pale white legs flashing through a swirl of black skirts as she crossed the marble floor. Her raven hair was piled atop her head in a style Balthasar assumed was the latest trend, loose curls hanging to frame a cruelly beautiful face.

Her dark eyes flashed at Balthasar, a look he was certain indicated that she had overheard his comment, but she curtsied low and greeted him formally. "Magnus Balthasar," she said. Her voice never betrayed the malice that was so evident in her eyes.

Balthasar nodded, the slightest movement of his head. "Kamala." It was the bare minimum etiquette demanded to avoid insulting her. She didn't deserve to sit on this council.

Before she could begin her usual veiled insults, the rest of the Imperium Magus entered. Molech, the diminutive, grey-skinned mage with eyes too large for his bald head moved quickly into the chamber and directly to his chair. He was followed by a pair of mages whose quiet conversation ended as soon as they entered the council chamber. Hazima wore the robes of her people, covering her skin almost entirely except for a small opening out of which peered her enchanting, color-shifting eyes. With her was Nagaraj, dark-skinned, his vest open, bare arms exposing the snake tattoos curling from the backs of his hands all the way up his shoulders and onto his back. All three bowed or curtsied their respect to Balthasar, greeting him as "Magnus Balthasar", and took their seats.

Balthasar surveyed the room. Not even a third of the Imperium Magus was present, and among those that were, the only one whose loyalty was certain was Idomeneus. Hazima was loyal to her religion, Nagaraj to his own people, and Molech kept his own counsel. Kamala would as soon see him dead as aid him, though in the days to come, he may have to call on even her aid. He rose to his feet, and addressed the group, the disciples stepping back away from him, Lila remaining on the floor beside his chair.

"As you know, more than half our number are away from Altenburg for one reason or another. Azeem, Ghadhanfar and Satomi have their assignments from the Emperor himself. Demothi sees to the needs of his people in the desert. Janus and Alima have departed for... personal reasons." He hardly needed to tell them what those reasons were. Even the disciples knew that story.

"That hardly counts for half our numbers," said Kamala. "What of Eckhart and Kali? Where is Gopathi? Arachne? What of..."

Balthasar waved a hand dismissively at Kamala. "If you would cease your interruptions, these meetings would take much less time." The look he gave her was filled with venom which Kamala returned with her own. "Eckhart and Kali departed this morning for the northern wastes. Evil stirs there; we've all felt it, and its nature must be determined. Gopathi has entered the Unterberg to treat with the people beneath the mountain. Arachne seeks the force that drives refugees to our shores. The others have their assignments." Balthasar looked around the room. "Now for yours."

Molech looked up; his over-sized eyes always looked surprised. Nagaraj and Hazima remained attentive, revealing nothing. Kamala snorted.

"Rumors of rebellion rise again in the southwest. Molech, your skills are needed. Find the man who assembles forces in the name of Malik Sala. We must know what we face."

Molech nodded silently. Bathasar knew Molech would do what was needed. He turned to the others.

"Nagaraj, help is needed in the new territories to the east. Satomi, as the strongest communicators, you and Idomeneus will remain here to coordinate our efforts. Kamala, you will accompany me southward."

Kamala looked from Balthasar to Idomeneus. She hadn't left the Altstadt without the Emperor and his entourage since becoming his consort. She laughed, a derisive snort, and turned to face Balthasar, defiance flashing in her eyes and her voice. "I'll do no such thing."

"Kamala." The voice was not loud, but it echoed through the room like a thunderbolt. Even those who were not startled by it spun in their chairs and looked to the doorway. Emperor Waldemar stood leaning on the door frame. He never attended the meetings of the Imperium Magus.

Kamala seemed to sense the gravity of the situation and began formally. "Your Imperial Majesty." She stood and curtsied low.

"Sit." It was a command, as if she were a dog.

Kamala fell back into her seat, visibly stunned.

The Emperor entered, slowly circling the table as he spoke. Even among the mages of the Imperium Magus, none dared meet his gaze. "Balthasar goes south to find our path to the Gulf Coast. As a member of this council, even the Emperor's consort is not above serving in the capacity to which she agreed when she was appointed. Wouldn't you agree, Kamala?"

Kamala swallowed hard, smoothing the dark skirts covering her pale legs. "Of course, Your Imperial Majesty."

Balthasar was surprised. Perhaps Waldermar was not as easily fooled as he had suspected.

"Fear not, my dear. Your duties as my consort will be well in hand while you're away." He snapped his fingers and a stunningly beautiful woman entered. Her jet black hair hung nearly to her ankles, her bronze skin was smooth and healthy, and her eyes were an unnaturally bright green. Jewelry jangled at her wrists and dangled from her ear lobes, reflecting light as she moved into the room. The intricate pattern and style of her dress identified her as a native of the newly conquered eastern lands as much as her skin tone and hair. No one in the room had seen her before, but they could all sense her power. She was an altilium, a source of power for mages, and she was stronger than any they had found in recent years. She took her place at Emperor Waldemar's side.

Kamala did an admirable job of concealing whatever she may have felt. It was the second time in mere minutes Balthasar was surprised by someone whose actions he thought he could predict.

"Unless there is anything else..." The Emperor looked at each of them in turn, but none responded. "You are dismissed. I must speak with the Magnus."

The members of the Imperium Magus rose, bowed, and made their way for the door as hastily as possible without seeming rude. The disciples followed quickly. Idomeneus dared a glance at Balthasar, who acknowledged it with a quirk of one eyebrow as he stood. The Emperor's new consort followed Idomeneus, closing the door behind her.

"Balthasar." The Emperor smiled.

"Your Imperial Majesty." Balthasar stood before the Emperor.

"Please, Balthasar. It's just the two of us. You need not use my title."

"Thank you." Balthasar's mouth was dry. He considered the tankard of cold water, then thought better of it.

"You seem nervous, Balthasar." The Emperor wandered the council hall, idly inspecting nothing in particular.

"Forgive me, Your..." He paused, caught himself, then carried on. "Waldemar."

The Emperor waved the apology away with a flick of one wrist. "How quickly do you think you can present me with a path to the Gulf Coast?"

"It depends on how tightly the circle holds. All we need do is turn one to our cause, buy one off, tempt one. Xidig might be bought with a few powerful altilium and a promise not to interfere with his holdings. Others have other weaknesses.  I'm certain one can be exploited." Balthasar hoped the Emperor had no clues as to his true need in the south. Dealing with Sylla in any capacity would border on treachery in Waldemar's eyes.

"And what of their Tower Mage?" The Emperor said the title as if it were a joke especially designed to insult Balthasar.

"She cannot interfere with plans she cannot know."

The Emperor turned on Balthasar. "I know you hold feelings for the witch in the tower. I know you think she can yet be used to our advantage, but I have seen what she may become." His eyes burned with malice. "She cannot live, Balthasar."

Balthasar stared silently. Surely he wasn't meant to kill her? The Emperor knew of their past. There was no reason to place such as task in Balthasar's hands. Perhaps that was why he had ordered Balthasar to select Kamala as his companion on the southward journey. Perhaps she was the eyes of the Emperor. On the verge of being replaced, she would do anything to get back into the Emperor's good graces. Balthasar's mind raced.

The Emperor looked out the window towards the south, his hands on the window sill. "The Tower Mage must die."

[IsabellaRose]

3. Tower Notch

Sylla and Queen Anastasia had descended nearly twenty floors down the center of the tower on an ascension disc, a device created by the lost technologies of the ancient civilization that had built the tower and gatehouse. Winding stairs circled the ascension disc which only moved at the spoken command of the Tower Mage. Anyone else would have had to use the stairs before they reached the level where the tower met the cliff face. Here the rooms had been carved into the living rock of the mountain and were much larger that the circumference of the tower.

They entered the chambers of the Tower Mage, a suite of nearly a dozen rooms covering two levels. The suite contained a receiving room, several sitting rooms, sleeping chambers, laboratories, libraries, and chambers for tantric rituals. It was much warmer here; ancient magic moved heat up thermal vents carved deep into the mountains. They left their cloaks and prepared for the meeting of The Circle. 

Down two flights of wide stairs, the two women entered the broad hallways of the main floors that led to the Chamber of the Circle. They entered the chamber through elaborately carved double doors of dark wood that swung silently at Sylla's spoken command. Inside a diverse group of spellcasters sat around a large circular table chatting among themselves. 

Bartolomej Nicolaides, High Wizard of the Riverlands, rose as they entered, his grey robes swirling around him. His long, white beard seemed to have a life of its own as it swung from side to side, sticking out at odd angles and moving as if something might be living inside it. Behind him sat one of his apprentices, a timid looking brunette in matching grey robes.

"Finally, the Tower Mage graces us with her presence." He paused only a moment before continuing on. "Perhaps now we can get on to business so we can leave this frigid tower and return home."

"The first order of business," said a flamboyantly dressed man with a rakish smile, "should be to congratulate Queen Anastasia on her recent nuptials." He seemed to swagger even standing still. This was Captain James Elwyn of Blackwood, representative to The Circle from the Tuug Islands. His tunic was dark crimson and the coat he wore over it was the deepest black. His hair hung long and straight down his back and fell forward over his shoulders. He smelled of the sea, briny saltiness with hint of sulfur and something green.

The others around the table watched him silently, some with disapproving glares, as he raised a goblet to Queen Anastasia, then tipped it back and downed its' contents quickly. He sat back in his chair and poured another goblet from the flagon before him. Sylla smiled and applauded his toast briefly, but was the only one to do so.

Anastasia inclined her head politely. "Thank you, Lord Elwyn."

Bartolomej looked around the table, then scowled at James. "If you are quite finished, there are more important matters to which we must attend."

James waved a hand as if granting his permission for Bartolomej to continue speaking. "Let it never be said that I delayed the proceedings of the Circle."

Bartolomej didn't even look at him, but instead continued as if James had never spoken. "The Empire turns their eyes southward again, but that is not all. Boatloads of refugees have been arriving on the shores of the Tuug Islands, and some even as far as Fylaki and Morfi on the Gulf Coast. Our spies indicate the western shores of the Empire are flooded with nearly ten times as many refugees as our own lands. We still don't know what drives them from their homelands, nor does the Empire.

"In addition, dark powers stir in the northern wastes, and there are rumors that Malik Sala has returned and raises an army against the Empire."

"Those are problems for the Empire, not for us." Mago Fabian Giron, Sorcerer from the jungle coast country of Yeni Yazisi, stared flatly at the others around the table. "If those things keep them occupied, all the better."

"The Empire looks south for power," said Sylla. "The more they are threatened, the greater their desire to control us and use our power as their own. We have resources they want and need."

"We could offer them aid," said Queen Anastasia. "If they swear to leave the Free Lands free."

"Never," said Fabian. "They are not to be trusted. They would betray us as soon as it suited their needs. We would only be postponing the inevitable. If anything, we should offer support to Malik Sala."

Anastasia's face darkened. "Not one of the Free Cities will lift a finger to help that man."

"The Circle and the Free Lands will remain neutral in that conflict," said Sylla. "As far as the Empire planning an invasion, there is little we can do but prepare."

"Not so, my dear Tower Mage," said James. He leaned forward on his elbows and grinned. "As we speak my Queen's fleet is in the east. We strike at their supply lines and bring aid to the Tan rebels. The Empire already struggles to hold their latest conquest. With our help, they will need to pour more and more resources into maintaining what they already claim. That's less resources they can turn toward us."

Sylla held back her smile. She liked Queen Bellaqua's style, but it went in direct violation of what The Circle had agreed upon. There were to be no strikes against the north. Retaliation was something they could not risk. Still, she appreciated the bold move rather than the constant inaction that seemed to plague this group.

No one said a word in reply to James' comment until Bartholomej finally shook his head. "Your Queen is bold and foolhardy. If she comes under fire from the north, we will not be able to aid her."

"We expect no aid from this council," said James. "This council hasn't aided anyone in years."

Bartholomej slammed his hand on the table. "We specifically agreed that there would be..."

"Enough." Sylla's voice commanded their attention. "It is too late to stop Queen Bellaqua's fleet. We will simply have to be grateful for whatever delay she can impose on the invasion from the north."

Bartholomej set his jaw and looked ready to retort, but held his tongue.

"Malik is a problem for the Empire that created him," said Sylla. "But whatever is happening in the northern wastes and the refugees flooding every western shore are problems that should concern us all."

"There lies an ocean between us." Xidig spoke for the first time. He towered over the others at the table, and his skin was black as moonless midnight. He was the Saaxir of Al'Mata, the most powerful sorcerer to come out of the darkness of the Maze, and the others feared him despite their own power. "Their troubles are not our troubles."

Two beautiful women with skin as dark as Xidig's sat on either side of him, leaning on his shoulders, barely covered by their revealing clothing. They each wore a golden collar that denoted them as slaves. These were Xidig's altilium, powerful magic users in their own right who had given him free reign to tap into their magic as if it were his own. Xidig may not have been the most powerful member of the Circle by himself, but with his altilium to use, his power dwarfed that of the others.

"Perhaps," said Bartholomej. "But we cannot know that whatever they flee will not pursue them."

"It sounds as if need to plan a long voyage to the uncharted reaches of the Western Ocean." James grinned at the others. "There are none better suited to find the source of refugees than one of my Queen's ships."

"So you're going to sail off toward the edge of the earth and try to find where the refugees come from? That doesn't sound like a suitable plan." Batholomej stared at James without expression.

"On the contrary," said Sylla, smiling at James, then at Bartolomej. "I think a ship from the Tuug Islands is the only possible course of action. If anyone can find the homeland of these mysterious refugees, it would be one of Queen Bellaqua's ships."

"Just so!" cried James, raising his goblet and draining it.

"Very well," said Batholomej. "I retract my objection. Does anyone else object?"

No one said a word.

"Then it is settled," said Sylla. "Lord James will return to the Tuug Islands and have a ship sent westward."

"What of the northern wastes?" Bartholomej looked around the room again.

"Surely the Empire must have knowledge of what happens in the northern wastes. It's on their border." Anna couldn't even hear breathing after her comment, and expected an open objection from her next one. "Perhaps we should ask the Lord Magnus what he makes of it."

Sylla shifted uncomfortably. "I don't think we're on speaking terms."

"That man have reason to hate the Circle." Xidig shook his head.

"Indeed he does," said Anastasaia. "But the entirety of the Imperium Magus have no reason to despise the Free Cities, nor has the Empire yet waged war upon us. If there is a chance to avoid conflict and fight powers that concern us all, I suggest we take it."

"And who will we send as ambassador?" Batholomej quirked one eyebrow. He seemed genuinely interested in her suggestion, even if it was obvious he considered her plan foolish.

"I will go," said Anastasia."I will seek audience with Balthazar and the Emperor himself, not as a representative of the Circle, but as Queen of the Free City of Eletheria."

Heads turned from Anastasia to Bartholomej to Sylla. No one spoke. Sylla looked down at the table in front of her, but said nothing.

"If you make your presence known and approach as an ambassador from the south, I don't think even the Emperor would move against you. There are, of course, inherent risks involved. Balthazar is unpredictable."

"It seems a solid plan to me," said Fabian. He turned to Xidig, who simply nodded his agreement. 

All eyes fell to Sylla.

She took a deep breath as if to steady herself, then looked up directly into her friend's eyes. "You know what I think, Your Highness," she said, using the formal greeting. "But it is your decision to make."

"I shall depart directly from Tower Notch with the guards who escorted me here. We leave in the morning." She held her chin high and displayed no sign of any doubt, though all at the table were certain she held many. "I will bring back whatever news they have of the troubles in the northern wastes."

"Your courage and audacity will be celebrated in the Tuug Islands!" said James, raising his goblet yet again. The man seemed capable of drinking unlimited quantities without ever getting drunk. "We will sing songs of the fearless queen who faced the Empire!"

Fabian shook his head, clearly displeased with James and his outbursts. "We have other matters to which we must attend. Why does the witch Jaiya not join the Circle tonight?"

Silence answered him.

"I'll tell you why," he continued. "Because the whore of a shapeshifter marshals her savages and beasts to attack our settlements rather than meet with us as a friend. Three villages lost to those Misitu barbarians in three months! Attacks on our woodsmen by her shapeshifting allies and the wild animals they control!"

Bartholomej turned to Sylla. "Have you heard of this?"

"This is the first time anyone has mentioned it to the Tower Mage," she said, staring flatly at Fabian. "I have not heard from my friend Jaiya in some time."

"She must be stopped." Fabian's voice was low and filled with menace. "If you can't reel her in, we will stop her."

"And risk war within the Freelands?" Bartholomej spun on Fabian. "Don't be a fool! We must remain united if we hope to hold off the Empire."

"I assure you," said Sylla, "that Jaiya does not direct animals or the tribes of the Misitu. If they attack, it is of their own volition, possibly in retaliation for your destruction of their homelands."

"We clear lands for farms. We produce lumber for all the southlands. Try to prepare for war without these resources. We support the unity of the south." Fabian was resolute.

"Jaiya is a friend and ally," said Sylla. "The Tower will tolerate no action against her."

"I have as much control over the people of Yeni Yazisi as you claim Jaiya does over her savages and beasts. I am not their king, and they will act in their own defense." 

"It would be foolish to turn Jaiya against you. She already dislikes your policies. Imagine if she were actively opposing you."

"You think she is not?" Fabian's face flushed red. "Your witch friend has slain countless men who did no more than cut lumber or clear land."

Sylla sighed. "The Tower does not have the resources to search out Jaiya at this time."

"Perhaps I can help," said Bartholomej. "I could send my apprentice. She has worked with Jaiya in the past, and could likely locate her quickly."

The young woman behind Bartholomej looked up suddenly as all eyes fell upon her. She had been sitting silently just behind him the entire time, and her eyes went wide in surprise to be the center of attention.

"Nydia is familiar with druidic magic and shapeshifting, more so than anyone save Jaiya herself." He turned to the young woman beside him and nodded. "You are ready."

Nydia nodded silently, but looked uncertain.

"Very well," said Sylla. "There is a matter to which I must attend that will take me away from the tower. Who can remain here as a point of contact for all of our various missions?"

"I shall remain at Tower Notch," said Bartholomej. "I will await the return of the Tower Mage."

Sylla nodded solemnly. "Thank you, Master Nicolaides."

She had found information in the library of the Tower Mage, a clue to locating a powerful artifact that could make all the different in the coming conflict. It would require her to travel the inhospitable peaks of the Barrier Mountains to the highest peak. The distance was not far, but the terrain made the journey impossible for all but the best trained mountaineers or those with magical protection.

Sylla would require all the magical protection she could muster.

[IsabellaRose]

4. Bojadrar

Balthazar traveled light, but even so, he prepared some items in the small pack he wore beneath his robes, as well as packing the pouches on his belt with useful items. Blades were not the norm for a mage, but he carried two, an affectation from his service in the home guard of the Gulf Coast. Gauntlets, traveling cloak, and the high, hard boots he wore when traveling, and he was almost ready. Lastly, and most importantly, he donned the Pileus Sensus, the thin circlet of gold that was the symbol of his office as Magnus.

Few were aware that the Pileus Sensus served not only as a symbol, but also as a communication device. With it, he could send is thoughts to the wearer of the matching circlet, where ever they may be. Naturally, he chose Idomeneus to wear the matching band of gold. It would save them both energy throughout his absence. With his minimal packing done, Balthazar headed to the ceremonial chambers of the Magnus where the three altilium girls awaited him along with Kamala and Idomeneus.

Teleportation was not one of Balthazar's strengths, but with the power they drew from the three altilium during the tantric session, he, Kamala and Idomeneus opened a portal to the southernmost of the Empires holdings, the border fortress of Bojadrar. He bid his friend and the altilium girls farewell, pausing to kiss Lila briefly, and then he and Kamala stepped through the portal and into the cold, stone fortress beyond.

He had felt Kamala's eyes upon him during the tantric ceremony despite doing his best to ignore her, and though they each worked exclusively with one altilium to build their own power until the very end of the spell, he had felt her hand upon his thigh once, felt her lips upon the back of his neck when he drove himself into Lila at the conclusion of the ceremony. It was not uncommon for sorcerers to seek the power of their own kind. He had hoped it was just that. But the portal had required more energy to open than he had expected, and he couldn't shake the feeling that Kamala had siphoned off some of the energy they had generated for her own use. He wondered if she had done something to him back there with that kiss. He had felt nothing, felt nothing now, but that's how magic was... you couldn't always detect it. Sometimes you didn't feel it until it was too late.

It was with distrust of Kamala in his mind that Balthazar stepped into the courtyard of grey stone. The fortress was built of stones cut from the living rock of the mountains here, and served as a lookout across the strip of desert connecting the north with the south. If he stood atop the wall or in the highest part of the squat, bulky tower at the center of the fortress, he would be able to see the distant Barrier Mountains. He would also see, leading from this very courtyard, the dusty, unused road that led into the mountains and eventually to Tower Notch and the lands beyond.

The fortress was bleak and utilitarian, a leftover from a different time, long before the rise of the Empire or the establishment of the Free Lands of the South. Like so many forts and temples in the Empire, no one knew who had built it, what army had used it, or from whom they had defended themselves in the south.

Balthazar entered the tower, Kamala silent and brooding on his heels. He knew she wanted to speak, but so far she had managed to remain silent.

The lieutenant stationed within the main room of the fortress barely concealed his fear when Balthazar and Kamala entered. "Lord Magnus, Lady Kamala," he saluted, bowed, eyes uneasy, stood upright, saluted again. "We were not made aware of your plans to visit."

"At ease, Lieutenant," said Balthazar. "We are not here in an official capacity. You need not fear either of us." He hoped that were true of Kamala. Some mages sucked the very life essence out of common folk to use in their spells, and he had sensed her use of those means when he had first met her.

"Very good, Lord Magnus." The lieutenant relaxed visibly. "How may we be of service to you, my Lord?"

Balthazar smiled, despite himself. He certainly garnered more respect in the north than he ever had in the south. More fear, as well. He looked back at the soldier. "We will need mounts, provisions, and an escort. We head south."

"We shall prepare them at once, my Lord." There was no hesitation from the lieutenant. "Mounts and pack animals to carry your provisions, a squad to escort you, as well as our best scouts."

"Make it so, Lieutenant. Your cooperation will be duly noted in my report to the Emperor."

The lieutenant smiled and saluted. "Yes, Sir, my Lord." He spun on his heel and headed into an adjoining room.

Balthazar turned and for the first time since arriving, met Kamala's eyes. "You've never been this far south, have you?"

Kamala gave him a sneer. "And I'll not likely return." She turned up her nose. "It smells."

Balthazar laughed. "That's not the south, it's the pecus, and they're all the way in the stable. If you think they smell now, wait until you're riding one into the mountains."

Kamala's eyes widened. "I will not ride anything that smells like that."

"It's a long walk if you don't." Balthazar could hardly contain his amusement.

"Walk. We are mages. We don't need to walk. Why not simply open a portal to..."

"Do you believe the southern defenses to be that weak?"

Kamala's eyes narrowed. "We could..." She searched for another way. She obviously considered the smell unbearable.

"We ride, Kamala." Balthazar walked past her and opened the doorway to the courtyard. "Maybe you could cast a spell to make them smell better."

With that, he barked out another laugh and headed back out to the courtyard. He needed some distance from Kamala's strong aura before he tried to contact Idomeneus again. Hopefully the young man would have pinpointed Sylla's exact location, and was following her as he said he would. Balthazar would be much happier if he could speak to her alone, without Kamala or the escort, or any of Sylla's southern friends.

[IsabellaRose]

5. The Barrier Mountains

Sylla looked down the steep rocky slopes at Tower Notch far below.  Her white, fur-lined cloak was pressed tight against her body by the non-stop wind, and loose strands of dark hair whipped around her face. She had dressed for the trek. Aside from the cloak, she wore three layers of fur-lined clothing that covered her entire body, and she carried the istilik stones that stored heat from the Tower. The stones wouldn't last forever, but they would keep her from having to expend too much energy on the trek west.

Beside her stood a large wolf, its' thick, white fur frosted with glistening ice crystals. This was Snow, her familiar. Wolves like Snow were common in the far Northern Wastes, but had been driven to near extinction throughout the mountains of the Empire. Only two packs still survived in the Barrier Mountains. Sylla had found Snow as a puppy years earlier, much further south where the Barrier Mountains stretched down to the steppes, near her childhood home. He had been injured and she had nursed him to health. Upon earning his trust, she had performed the ceremony to bind their souls and minds together, making him her familiar.

Her face was impassive, a mask of grim determination as she turned and began walking further up the steep path that took her further into the highest peaks. Her head felt light with the thin air, though it did little to slow her pace. Even without her magic, Sylla was at home in these steep rugged mountains. She had been raised on the steppes south of the Barrier Mountains,  and often trekked into these desolate places where few dared to go. She knew both the beauty and dangers of this place, and could survive here better than most.

She trekked west towards Mount Tirin, the highest peak of the Barrier Mountains. Just a few hundred feet below the peak of Mount Tirin lay Lake Aethereus. The clues she had pieced together from old journals, map fragments, and dusty tomes that had remained ignored for decades pointed her here, to the shores of Lake Aetherus. 

From what she could discern, this was the location of the Staff of Sakti, who was among the first of the Tower Mages, dating from the time when Tower Notch was built. The Staff of Sakti, also known as the Tower Staff, had been the topic of debate for centuries. Previous Tower Mages had researched it, but they had all come to the conclusion that it was only a legend, a metaphor for the powers or old.

Sylla was certain it was real. The staff was an artifact that could theoretically channel vast amounts of power using magics that had been lost to the ages. It was said to allow the wielder to tap into magic from a source that modern mages had lost. Sylla longed for this power. She had once held so much more magic, and knew that she had the potential to unlock her reserves, but ever since she had broken with Balthazar, had ceased to practice the tantric rituals with him, her powers had felt weak.  She was still a powerful mage, perhaps more so than most in the Circle, but before... it had been a feeling of omnipotence, of connection to everything. She had felt like nothing could stop her when she was with Balthazar. She missed that.

So she walked on through the mountains, determination mixing with excitement, hoping against all logic that she could locate the staff, that it could restore her to the height of her former powers, and without relying upon a man to do it.

She pulled the hood of her cloak low over her face and headed into the fierce wind, Snow at her side, the strength of her convictions and her desire for power driving her forward.

[IsabellaRose]

6. The Northern Wastes

It would be night here in the northern wastes for another twenty-six days. The lack of sunlight was strange enough to Kali, but what spread across the sky instead of sunlight filled her with a sense of wonder combined with dread. Blue, green, yellow and pink streaks of light rippled across the cloudless expanse in a hypnotic, luminescent dance. Legends told many different stories of the lights of the north. Some said that the lights were the old magics being drained slowly from the world. Others said it was the barrier between our world and that of the Gods, and that here in the north that barrier was permeable. Others said that the barrier was between our world and the world of spirits who sought to enter our world.

Tales told of those who crossed that barrier, from this side to that other world, and from the other side to here. It was said that few who crossed over ever returned, and if they did, they were never the same. The things that came across to this world were malevolent entities who possessed or abused their victims. Those stories were considered myths, fairy tales, or folklore, and were never taken seriously. Kali had read many of them in preparation for coming north. Folklore often held a nugget of truth, and she intended to have as much information in her memory as possible in the hopes that she could use it to piece together whatever they found in their investigation.

Blowing snow obscured her vision, whipping Kali's jet black hair from inside the white fur hood. Eckhart stood beside her, his short hair safely within the confines of the hood he wore. Neither mage had ever been this far north. Few people had. It was even more inhospitable than the Barrier Mountains, a place of ice, cold, wind, and little else. 

The guides had brought them this far to show them the lights. Not the ones in the sky; the borealis were a normal part of life this far north. The lights the guides pointed out were in the darkness ahead. Midnight engulfed the Caelum Mountains, lit only occasionally by infrequent ruby flashes from somewhere up in the foothills. The guides would take them no further. They stood several yards behind Kali and Eckhart, watching nervously. If they knew any more about the lights, they refused to speak of it. 

Kali remembered the tales from her studies before coming north. The creatures from the other side were said to use blood magic, spilling the blood of living beings, often even taking their lives, to power their heinous sorcery. When they used these villainous methods it was said that the sky would light up with flashes of crimson light.

Kali and Eckhart exchanged a glance. The wind made conversation difficult, but they had made a plan before coming this far. They would leave a token here, something to act as a focus for the magic that would transport them back to this very spot. They would return to their camp, perform the tantric rituals, prepare their magic, and transport back here before another day had passed. When they returned, they would continue on and find the source of the lights. They would find out what moved in the north.
 

[IsabellaRose]

7. Bojadrar

Queen Anastsia had ridden north along the old road, following the steep switchbacks down the face of the cliffs and out into the barren stretch of land that separated the two continents. Dust kicked up behind the horses, obscuring her view of the mountains she had recently left. This was not a wild or spectacular desert like that of the Maze; it was more of rolling expanse of rocks, dust and shrubs. After an indeterminate amount of time that seemed forever, she finally saw the blocky form of Bojadrar Fortress squatting atop the road, the paving stones leading directly to the stout gates of the ancient stronghold ahead. She had hoped to make the fortress before nightfall, and now here they were, at the very southern tip of the Empire.

Six men rode with the queen, three ahead, three behind, and a train of servants and pack horses followed. The men at the front of the column were members of the Karalis Guard, the elite guards of the royalty of the Gulf Coast. The Karalis Guard were a brotherhood, champions sworn away from fealty to any one city-state and sworn to the sole duty of protecting the royal bloodlines. When one became a member of the Karalis Guard, one was stripped of titles, property and any attachments, and bound to the their oaths by magic and honor. They were then referred to by the title Brenin, which translated from the old tongue as something like protector, or kingsman. These were men of war and magic, quiet and stern. They did not make particularly entertaining company hidden behind helmets and armor, but Queen Anastasia felt quite safe under their protection.

It was not a discrete group that road north that day, her banner flying high from saddles of all six Karalis Guards, the servants and pack horses trialing behind them in a long line back toward the mountains. It would be obvious to anyone who the Queen was, but there was little need to hide her identity. The North held no animosity toward the south. In fact, relations were quite good, despite rumors of the Empire's plans to conquer the south. She should be afforded all the comforts of visiting royalty. If she were to run into any difficulty, it would be at the will or hands of those she was planning to confront. As an ambassador of the south, she planned to make her intent well known from the outset.

A contingent of soldiers rode out from the gates of Bojadrar to meet them. There were two dozen men in light armor flying the banners of the Zauberei Empire on the tips of pole arms held upright, four men for every member of the Karalis Guard. They were no match for the Karalis Guardsmen, and both the soldiers and the guardsmen knew it. The soldiers stopped before the first of the Karalis Guard, six abreast, blocking the road. The Captain of the Guard rode through the ranks of his soldiers and stopped his horse before the party from the south. 

The third Karalis Guardsman from the front called out to the Captain. "Her Majesty Queen Anastasia Galanos of the Free City of Eletheria, Ambassador of The Tower Circle, requests entrance to Bojadrar." This was Brenin Gren, the eldest of the Karalis Guardsmen who had accompanied the Queen, and their informal leader on this mission. 

The Imperial Captain nodded. "We welcome the Queen of the Free City of Eletheria and her noble Karalis Guard." There was no reason to deny her entrance. The Zuberei Empire and the Free City of Eletheria were allies. "It will be my honor to escort your party into the fortress."

"Thank you, Captain," said Brenin Gren. Queen Anastasia inclined her head ever so slightly to the captain.

The Captain made a flourish with his cloak, an impressively graceful move considering he was still mounted, and then the soldiers turned their mounts and led the Queen and her Karalis Guards through the forbidding gate and into the fortress. As they rode past the low buildings within the walls, Gren spoke to the captain.

"How is the ride north to Altenburg?," he said, looking sideways at the captain. "We seek audience with the Lord Magnus, and his Imperial Majesty, the Zauberei Emperor." 

Anastasia noticed the Lieutenant's eyes widen slightly at the mention of the Lord Magnus, but otherwise he had no major reaction to the news that they intended to travel to the capital.

"It is seven days to the capital city, if the weather holds." said the Captain. "This time of year you're likely to lose time in the mountain passes."

"You have maps?" Brenin Gren was all business.

"Our maps and guides are at your disposal," said the Captain. 

Gren simply nodded in return as they rode through the low, squat buildings of plain stone inside the fortress. What had once been a massive military compound had grown over centuries into a small but seemingly thriving town. As they turned one corner, half of their escorts broke off and rode toward the building Anastasia could only assume was the main fortress itself, an imposing structure of the same dull stone that made up the entirety of the fortress. 

Anastasia found herself repulsed by the ugly buildings in the strange, old fort. There was no beauty here, no unified or unique designs. It was all squat, blocky, and utilitarian. She found herself longing for the cities of the Gulf Coast, their architecture was art unto itself, and it was all she had known her whole life. This stark, muted place seemed designed to sap away her joy.

They pulled their horses to a stop in front of a large manor house. The building was slightly different than that of the rest of the fort, as though someone had thought to impress another with the building at the outset, but had given up and returned to the plain, serviceable design of the rest of the fortress by the time that had completed the structure. This was the ambassador's manor, and the Captain dismounted and escorted the Queen and her Karalis Guard into the building. 

They were handed off to what she could only assume was the steward of the building, an immaculately dressed slender man with thinning hair who guided them as if he were in his own home. 

"Apartments for you and your Guard, Your Majesty," he said, guiding them to a hallway to the left. "The staff is at your disposal." 

The Karalis Guardsmen closed their eyes for a moment, their magic reaching out to verify her safety. Brenin Gren opened his eyes and nodded to the Queen.

"Thank you," Queen Anastasia said to the steward.

"When you have had time to refresh yourself, ring the bell and you will be escorted to the receiving hall of the Ambassador."

Queen Anastasia nodded to the steward and then headed into the suite. Her guards took positions outside the door and down the hall.

Two hours later, after bathing, dressing in a gown from one of the many cases she had carried north, having her hair done, her makeup touched up, and being fully perfumed, Queen Anastasia's handmaiden rang the bell and they awaited the arrival of the steward or his staff.

The Queen and her Guard were escorted to the reception hall, where she expected to meet whatever local bureaucrat was in charge of this desolate outpost. At the door, Queen Anastasia paused for a moment, then turned to the Karalis Guardsmen.

"You may take your leave."

Brenin Gren hesitated, his flat stare the only challenge he would present to the Queen. 

Queen Anastaasia matched his stare with one of her own, but said nothing, and Gren nodded and turned with the others, marching back toward their apartments.

She entered the reception hall and was at once overwhelmed by the luxurious decor. Intricately detailed tapestries covered the walls which were paneled with deeply polished dark wood trimmed with gold inlay. The chandelier that hung from the center of the ceiling was a delicate construct of gold and crystal, the light of over a hundred candles reflecting and refracting from the clear crystals to make a dizzying display of multicolored luminescence that played across the room. The furnishings were masterfully crafted and upholstered in expensive, plush fabric in muted patterns that fit well with the rest of the room.

This was what she had heard of and expected from the Empire, opulence, decadence, and an overindulgent luxury that looked as lavish as anything in the royal apartments back in Eletheria. It nearly took her breath away after the austere design of the exterior. She finally looked to the sole inhabitant of the room, and when their eyes met, she could not stifle her gasp.

Balthazar Rigas, Lord Magnus of the Imperium Magus, stood beside one of the ostentatious chairs in his full Imperial finery. He bowed low when she saw him, but she was certain she saw a smirk on his face that was gone when he straightened.

"Your Royal Highness," he said, his voice deep and melodious. "I understand you seek an audience."

[IsabellaRose]

8. The Cloud Forest

Nydia Nisi, apprentice to the High Wizard Bartolomej Nicolaides, gazed down into the foothills of the Barrier Mountains. Here the elevation pushed the treetops into the dense clouds that seemed to perpetually wreath the area. The jagged cliffs and tropical forests were obscured by heavy mist. It was known as the Cloud Forest, and the rumors of what might live within ranged from tribes of cannibals to giant carnivorous cats. People spoke of giant beasts that shook the earth when they walked. She had been near the cloud forests, but like most had never gone within.

She silently cursed her master for sending her here alone. She had no idea how to find Jaiya within the forest. It was said that she was rarely in human form in the cloud forest, traveling instead in the form of a panther. Nydia had seen Jaiya as a panther during the training she had given the young apprentice on shapeshifting. But her panther form was indistinguishable from an actual panther. How would Nydia know if she had found Jaiya or an actual jungle cat?

Nydia schooled herself to calm. She simply had to remember what she knew of Jaiya. She remembered being frightened of the tiny shapeshifter when they met. Jaiya was small but somehow imposing. Her tanned skin was covered in swirling patterns of blue dye, and her dark hair was a combination of braids, dreadlocks, and wild portions that stuck out in odd directions. But the most unsettling thing was her eyes. They were yellow, vertically slit like those of a cat, and seemed to glow with an inner light. Nydia shuddered when she remembered being held in place by those piercing eyes.

Jaiya had mentioned the cloud forest, the feel of running free through nature, the intensity of animal senses and intuition, and... the hut she used when she was in human form. Jaiya had a small hut near the northern end of the cloud forest. That would be the place to start.

Nydia had a little power of her own leftover from the ritual to open the portal, just enough of an inner store to pull off a couple smaller spells, or one larger one. Should she shift into the form of a feline herself and try to find Jaiya's hut? Should she try to use some sort of scrying to find Jaiya herself? What was her best course of action?

She started walking down into the first valley of the cloud forests as she thought, trying to develop the best plan she could. They were all counting on her to find Jaiya, make sure she was safe, and try to get the diminutive woman to cease any aggression she may have started against Yeni Yazisi.

[IsabellaRose]

9. The Stilllhalle, Altenburg

Idomeneus kicked his feet up on the divan in his chambers in the Stillhalle. Two beautiful, blonde altilium dozed naked on the bed behind him. A third lay beside him, her head on his stomach, one hand reached inside his loose breeches, idly stroking him. She was young, her hand soft on his flesh, but her grip was firm and her movements skilled. 
 
The two on the bed would need rest and food to regenerate the power he had taken from them. The one with him on the couch was waiting for her turn. For now he had enough energy stored, but when he needed more, he would take it from her. Until then, he instructed her, his voice calm despite the arousal he felt at her touch.

"Remember to focus your own energy as you increase your partners arousal," he said, his cock growing in her hand, almost fully at attention now. He could feel her energy thrumming around him like an electrical field. She was quite strong.

"Good, good," he said. "Let you power build to match that of your partner. You want to keep the balance between the two of you, your power and that of your partner should flow into and around each other. The trick is to maintain that equilibrium."

He felt a spike in her power level and shook his head. "Careful, now," he said, but suddenly she leaned forward and put her mouth on him, sliding her tongue along his length. His own arousal and available power spiked to meet hers. She was more skilled than he thought. 

"Very good," he said. "Very good, indeed." He liked this girl, and idly wondered what her name was before he grasped the back of her head and pushed her down onto him. He felt her throat constrict around his head as she gagged trying to take him deep.

Despite the arousal he felt at having his cock squeezed in her throat and the power rising within him because of it, she still somehow balanced her own power with his. Was she aroused by his dominance? He held her there, pressing hard against the back of her head, hearing the sloppy wet sounds of her gagging on him, feeling her power rise in a crescendo, and somehow his rose to meet hers. How was she doing that? 

He let go of her head and felt her slide off of him, heard her gasp in a breath before she turned and looked up at him, a self-satisfied smile on her face, saliva stringing from her lips to the tip of his cock. She was far more experienced than any of the other acolyte with whom he had worked. 

"You've been practicing," he said, looking down at her, feeling the well of power swirling around, between, and through them.

"The Lord Magnus taught me a few things," she said, and he could sense her arrogance. Overconfidence was a common weakness among the acolytes. He would have to rid her of it.

"Indeed," he said, focusing now. If she wanted to show off, he would make sure she understood what it meant to practice with a member of the Imperium Magus. "What is your name?"

"Johanna," she said, giving him bedroom eyes. 

"Well, Johanna," Idomeneus said, wrapping his fingers in her hair, "you may yet have a thing or two to learn."

He slammed into her throat them, tugging her head down onto his crotch. He felt her surprise and fear like a spear tip lancing through their tantric energies. Fear was also power, but another flavor altogether, one few knew how to wield. He knew it all too well, and turned the tip of that lance back upon her.

Her eyes were wide as she tried to breathe, but he held her there. Her fingers scrabbled at his pants, not wanting to hurt him, but wanting to get off of him, take a breath. He stared down at her as he turned their combined power to bear on her. He made her feel fear like she had never known, combined it with the arousal she had felt before, made her unable to distinguish one from the other, saw the confusion as her body convulsed in orgasmic throes as she felt a simultaneous bone-chilling terror.

Her power level rose to a level he had only seen in students who were ready to become full members of the Imperium Magus, and he siphoned it all off before she could do anything with it. He was filled with power, so much that the sense of it woke the two girls on the bed behind them. He stared down at Johanna and spent himself in her mouth.

Her eyes bulged, but somehow she took it all, swallowing more out of necessity than desire. He drained every last iota of power from her, pushed his last spurt of semen into her mouth, then let go of her and shoved her aside.

Johanna's body shook with her rasping breaths as she hunched on hands and knees, and she retched his ejaculate onto the divan. Her eyes watered and she looked at him in shock and horror.

"Why...?" she could barely even get that word out between coughing fits.

"You are strong, Johanna," said Idomeneus. "But you have much to learn. When I was an acolyte in the south, the Saaxir of the Maze killed promising students for lesser displays of arrogance."

She stared at him silently, some of the deference she should have shown all along finally returning to her features.

"The Lord Magnus taught you a few impressive tricks," he said, reaching out to pet her hair. "But you have much to learn."

Her coughing had calmed, but she remained on her hands and knees staring at him and said nothing.

"I can teach you." He smiled at her then, his friendly, disarming smile. "Would you like to become my disciple?"

She nodded quickly. 

Idomeneus placed his hand on her cheek. "You have the potential to sit on the Imperium Magus," he said, his voice gentle now. "I can give you the training you need to attain that potential."

"Thank you, Lord Idomeneus," she said, looking downward.

He merely nodded. "Go, clean yourself up. Get some rest. Return to me this evening."

She nodded, bowed her head, and scurried away, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand.

Idomeneus lay back on the divan and felt the power coursing through his body. It was amazing, really. She was as powerful as some members of the Imperium Magus already. With the right training, she could surpass all but the most powerful members.

He reached down and picked up the gold circlet Balthazar had left for him. Placing it on his head, he attuned himself to it and was suddenly able to hear all the sendings that had come in before. Kali and Eckhart witnessed ruby flashes in the foothills and planned to return tomorrow. Balthzar and Kamala had reached Bojadrar. 

While wearing the circlet he would hear their voices as they reported in. It was a mild nuisance, easily bearable when weighed against his unrestricted use of all the students as altilium. Even without the power he received from them, the women were enough of a reason to practice magic, and here in the Empire he practically had his own harem. He listened to the messages the others sent to him and cataloged them in his brain to share with Balthazar when next they communicated.
 

[IsabellaRose]

10. Aqith

Molech had used the portals just as Balthazar, Kamala, Kali, and Eckhart had, although he would be forced to ride back. His skill was not in traveling, but rather in his unique ability to see yet remain unseen. He could present himself as what would be expected and blend into the environment. He would remain present but unnoticed, his presence registered but not alarming. He would just be another face in the crowd, indistinguishable from anyone else and completely unmemorable. This ability would be critical in his mission to determine who was behind the rebellion in the southwest.

He had mounted and begun riding southwest out of the Imperial fortress almost as soon as he stepped through the portal, and as he rode his appearance changed. His skin tone changed from grey to a deep tan, his physique from small and skinny to large, lean, and muscular. Hair appeared on his head, long, brown hair in the style of the horselords, tied at the nape of his neck with a leather thong. His robes faded and were replaced by leather riding pants, a light tunic, a cloak, gauntlets, and heavy boots. By the time he had ridden a league, he was indistinguishable from any other man who might happen to ride through the southwest.

He headed in the direction he deemed most likely, letting his intuition guide him toward the small town of Aqith. Soon he would find that which he sought. 
 

[IsabellaRose]

11. Burcad Bardeen, The Tuug Islands

Captain James Elwyn strode with all the confidence of a king down the hill from the palace and into the streets of Burcad Badeen, the capital city of the Tuug Islands. A half dozen retainers followed him carrying sacks of bread and dried meat. This was his city, and the people here knew and loved him. He tossed coins to children as they scampered around his legs, and waved or smiled at most of the faces he saw on his way to the docks. The tropical climate made him sweat, and his coat and shirt with both open. He wore his three cornered hat cocked to one side, and his beard and mustache were dark against his tanned skin.

The buildings of Burcad Badeen were mostly two stories, the first floor made of white stone and the second of wood. Windows were opened wide to the fresh sea breeze, and wooden walkways crossed between buildings at roof level. Laundry hung across alleys from building to building in colorful tapestries or connected buildings to the palm trees that lined the avenue. The closer he got to the bay, the more the salty air stung his nostrils, and the mixed smell of dozens of meals cooking wafted through the air. But then a new scent entered the mix, the smell of unwashed bodies, of  the homeless refugees crowding the streets.

Tapone refugees huddled against buildings or stood hunched into themselves. Most remained together in small groups staring blankly, seemingly afraid to meet the eyes of passersby. These were just the ones who had landed here at Burcad Badeen. Hundreds more had landed on the beaches further west, and it was said a hundred times as many had landed in the empire. There seemed to be no discernible destination for the Tapone; they landed on almost any western coast.

James walked more slowly, examining the frightened, wide-eyed foreigners. He instructed his retainers to pass out the bread and meat, and watched as the Tapone refuge tentatively took the food, looking confused, surprised, and grateful all at once. In truth, James had had little interest in them before, but it was now his job to find out what drove them from their homes to seek refuge on foreign shores. He figured it was worth the effort to see if he could gather any intelligence from the refugees before heading off into the ocean.

"Do you speak Arsaidian?" he asked a group of Tapone.  Most just stared while one shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

“Dhalasho ahaan?” he asked, trying the language of the Maze. When he received no answer, he tried, “Uda dashay?”

He was met with blank stares and shrugs no matter what language he tried. "Anyone? Do you understand what I'm saying? Any bloody idea?" 

"Bloody." One of the refugees repeated the single word.  He lifted up his shirt pointing to a old, brown stain.  "Bloody." 

"Indeed it is, Sir," James said pointing at the splotch.  "Now if you could give me some kind of hint as to the reason for your relocation, it would be much appreciated." 

The refugee frowned and shook his head. He pointed west.  "Bloody," he said again. He then held one hand aloft as if holding a knife and made a stabbing motion downward. He spread his hands wide, as if indicating that the blood spilled everywhere. "Bloody." His face was deadly serious.

James sighed. "Probably the best I’ll get," he said. He placed one hand on the mans’ shoulder. “Thank you, my good man.” He said, passing the man a loaf of bread from one of the sacks.

He turned to his retainers. “Distribute the rest of the food. Round up as many as you can and get them to the warehouses we’ve converted to temporary housing.”

He pulled his flask of rum out of his pocked and tipped it back, downing a swig as he started off towards the docks with a swagger. Arriving at his ship, The Squall, he called up to the deck as he strode up the gangplank.

"Blood abounds in the west, so west we go!" 

[IsabellaRose]

12 City of Tan, Zuguo Province

The port city of Tan in what had once been the nation of Zuguo seemed deserted aside from the Imperial soldiers patrolling in formation along the wharf. The darkening skies only added to the sense of oppression about the place where no flags flew save the blue of the Imperial banner atop the recently claimed Tan Garrison House. The people here remained indoors, partly due to the threat of the approaching storm, but also in part due to their intense distaste for the Imperials. As the most recently conquered land, the people of the new Province of Zuguo chafed more than others under the yoke of Imperial rule.

Captain Jonas Aimar stared out at the empty docks of the port city of Tan as his crew did their best to dock the ship amid the rolling waves. Dark clouds raced across the sky and the wind whipped through the rigging of the Divine Right, the flagship in the Imperial Navy. The ship was a marvel of naval engineering, a monstrosity consisting of multiple decks, three huge masts, and enough canons that if he were to pull alongside the docks and open fire, he could level most of the buildings in a single volley.

Captain Aimar watched the shore, searching for the agitators he knew must be there somewhere. He knew eyes watched his ship as he watched their town, but he could see nothing. Word of the uprising planned for tonight had not only spread to many rebels within the city, but to the ears of imperial spies as well. His ship and the fifteen others in his small fleet carried hundreds of soldiers. More soldiers were marching from a nearby garrison, and with the advanced notice provided by their spies, they would easily quell the rebellion. 

Once the ship was tied off, rank after rank of soldiers marched down the gang plank and onto the docks, making their way to shore and toward the Garrison House. The soldiers would regroup and deploy throughout the city in an orderly fashion, hopefully stopping the uprising before it even began. If the Tan rebels were determined, then perhaps they could at least root out the leaders of the insurgents and preclude any future problems.

The soldiers were weary from lack of sleep; they were not used to the pitching deck or the roll of staying below deck for too long. Many had been sick when the waves grew larger as the storm came in. They were looking forward to being indoors, out of the rain, and away from the roiling sea. Soon they wold be reinforced by the garrisons arriving from the south, and all would be well.

Within the city, in cellars, backrooms of taverns, and dark alleys, the easterners prepared for battle. Some had knives, old swords or other weapons, others would fight with only their hands. Their language was comprised of much shorter words than that of the Imperium, and they spoke in muted tones. Quick, short sentences were all that was necessary to confirm the plans that had been laid out in advance. The new foreign rule would come to an end, or they would die in the process.  

The first clap of thunder echoed through the sky above the town as lightning lanced into the ground somewhere outside of town. It was followed by the cacophonous cry from every corner of the city, a thousand voices crying out as one. Shang Sheng! It meant rise up in the language of the east, and the citizens of Tan answered did just that. They burst forth from storefronts, homes, and alleyways, hammering into the columns of weary soldiers as they made their way toward the Imperial Garrison House. 

From his vantage point aboard the Divine Right, Captain Aimar saw the crowds of civilians pouring forth from every doorway, window, alley and balcony. They were poorly armed, but their sheer numbers threatened to overwhelm the soldiers. Captain Aimar shouted commands to his men. If they were to be any help to the men on shore, they would need to get away from the docks. The other ships would need to disembark their soldiers, and he would need to swing about to bring his guns to bear.

[IsabellaRose]

13 Bojadrar

Queen Anastasia tried to conceal her surprise when Balthazar greeted her and gave his deep, formal bow, but Balthazar was not fooled. The young queen's face betrayed her shock at seeing him here on the border of the Empire. She must be wondering how he knew she would be here, trying to figure out who in the Circle or within her own kingdom was reporting back to the Imperium Magus. The suspicion she must be feeling right now, the doubt that would gnaw at relationships she thought were trustworthy, he could play those to his advantage. 

"Lord Magnus," said Queen Anastasia, nodding her head slightly to him, acknowledging his position. "I do indeed seek audience with you and your Emperor, although I fully expected to travel much further before finally seeing you in person. It seems word spreads quickly in the empire."

"We do our best to stay abreast of current affairs." Balthazar knew she'd be wondering how he knew. 

"It's good to see you again," she said with a smile, approaching Balthasar. "I am terribly sorry about everything that happened before."  Her tone was pleasant and she sounded honest, but she had been trained in the courts of the Free Cities and her tone and words would give little indication of whether or not her statements were truly heartfelt.

"But that was a long time ago. We are no longer just part of a group of spellcasters meeting up in a tower. I am Queen of a realm, and you are the Lord Magnus, the second most powerful man in the empire. Surely the past is behind us." 

Was that an veiled insult? The second most powerful man? Was she goading him? He quirked and eyebrow, but his face remained impassive and he said nothing.

Queen Anastasia paced slightly. Was she nervous in front of him? His magic had always been more powerful than hers, and she was alone with him, outside of her kingdom, her Karalis Guard far enough away that they couldn't possibly reach her in time to protect her from his magic. There was nothing but decorum and political ramifications preventing him from taking advantage of her vulnerability, and she knew that he had not always cared about either.

"I have heard that the empire has it's fair share of troubles," she said, speaking quickly, almost tripping over her words. "Your conquests in the east are not as easy to hold as the Emperor imagined. Talk of rebellion grows, inspired by someone we both thought long gone. I have received news of refugees flooding the empire in droves, and we both can feel the growing disturbance in the northern wastes.

"What I am saying Lord Magnus, is that there are four problems currently confronting your empire. The south is well aware that you turn your sights towards us. You could do that and create a fifth problem, or you could leave the south alone and gain our aid in dealing with your other problems. I cannot speak for everyone, but the Gulf Coast stands ready to send troops and aid to your cause."

Balthasar watched the young Queen closely as she spoke. Her tone and words revealed little of her true feelings; she chose her words wisely. Her body language, however, spoke volumes. She was nervous, possibly frightened, although she controlled it well.

Balthasar listened to her offer. It was more or less as he expected. She had come to seek assurances that the Empire wouldn't invade the south. He was surprised that she offered troops. The armies of the north outnumbered those of the south. Every realm that had been conquered eventually supplied troops to the Empire.

The Emperor had been offered much from other lands seeking to maintain their independence. He had always dismissed their offers and conquered them. He knew nothing else. There was never any compromise with Emperor Zeugen, and any promises Balthasar made now would surely be dismissed by the emperor later.

"Please, Your Highness," Balthazar said, finally speaking for the first time. "Let us adjourn to a more comfortable room to discuss these matters further."

He led her into the well-appointed sitting room. Unlike the rest of the small outpost, the manor was constructed of wood, apparently imported from far away. It seemed to be the only building designed to impress visitors, and the sitting room was no exception. The decor was elaborate, beautiful paintings adorned the walls, and light poured in through a paned window that took up nearly all of one wall. Plushly upholstered chairs and divans were arranged in small circles around large fireplaces at either end of the room, apparently for more intimate conversations, and there was a long table in the center of the room.

As they entered the room, Balthasar spoke. "I won't lie to you, Your Highness. It will be a challenge to get the Emperor to take your offer seriously. He does not see the issues at hand as real threats to the security of the Empire."

Balthasar led Queen Anna to one of the fireplaces and offered her a seat. "I, however, understand the nature of these things. Any one of them has the potential to bring any kingdom to its knees, and adding the south to our list of troubles is not a thought I relish."

He took a seat opposite her. "If you and I can work together towards a solution to this problem, I believe we can resolve this without bloodshed and both get what we want."

As Balthasar settled into his seat, a servant brought a tray with two goblets and pitchers of fresh gonni fruit juice. It was considered a delicacy this far south, as the gonni fruit only grew in the northwest and rarely survived the journey south. the servant poured juice into one goblet, offered it to the Queen with an obsequious bow, and then poured one and offered it to Balthasar, fawning over him only slightly less than he did over the Queen.

Balthasar raised his goblet to Queen Anna. "To the possibility of working together again," he said, and took a sip. He wondered if she would sense the powder mixed in with her juice. It had no taste, and none knew it was there save Balthasar. Was his shield still stronger than hers? Would she detect his deception, or would she succumb to the poison and fall unconscious? He had a binding spell prepared just in case, but he was fairly certain he would not have to use it.

Queen Anna picked up the goblet offered to her and smelled the gonni juice. It was impossible to get in the south, and she had only enjoyed it on occasions where she had visited much farther north.  

She nodded to Balthazar's toast. "Thank you, Balthazar. I hope this will put an end to any animosity between us."

She lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip, moving the refreshing juice around in her mouth to enjoy its' flavor before swallowing it. She let out a relaxed sigh of enjoyment, running her fingers through her long blonde hair as she sipped the juice again.

"I have heard of these troubles facing the empire, but it has been difficult deciphering what is rumor and what is truth. What details do you have of the troubles in the north..."

Anastasia's words trailed off a bit, and she brought her hand up, rubbing her temple. "I'm sorry. The day's travel must be getting to me. Perhaps I haven't been drinking enough water." She picked up the goblet and took another sip of the juice, then gulped some down. Despite the juice, her mouth would be feeling dry about now.

As she sipped the juice, her eyes lit up with the sudden realization of what she was feeling. She looked at the cup and then to Balthasar. "No..."

Balthazar remained seated. He said nothing, simply watched the queen as her eyes grew wide and she looked around frantically, her mouth opening silently. She wouldn't be able to speak, nor would she be able to work magic. The poison didn't last long, but it's effects were very specific. 

The young queen leaned forward, her hands pressed to the arms of the chair to push herself up. She shook with weakness as she got to her feet and turned toward the door. She took a few steps towards the door, swaying back and forth until she fell forward, catching herself on her hands. She tried to crawl, dragging herself to the door, but before she had moved more than a few inches she was unconscious, long blonde hair spread out across the wooden floor.

Balthazar sipped his own juice and stared down at the unconscious queen laying on the floor. He let out a long sigh and set down his goblet, rising to his feet. He only had about twenty minutes until she regained consciousness. He would have to work quickly.

[IsabellaRose]

14 Near Lake Aetherus, The Barrier Mountains

In the darkness of a cave near Aetherus Lake, something stirred. Rheumy eyes that had once been crystal blue opened slowly as a humanoid body moved for the first time in decades, joints creaking and popping, dust shifting as the desiccated body stirred. Decaying robes covered skin like parchment, and one bony hand clutched the shaft of an intricately carved staff.

Something was approaching, something sentient, something powerful. The thing in the cave fed on the living that came here, and whatever drew nearer to its home would be more than a snack. This would be a meal to sustain it for years.

Muscles like dried meat moved it across the cave as it called to its servants. There were not many undead here in the highest peaks, but those that were here answered to the thing within the cave. It called to the bodies that lay between the lake and the presence that approached.

Humanoid bodies detached themselves from the frozen earth, ice crystals shattering as their limbs moved. The humanoids were joined by the corpse of a massive, ice-crusted ogre and that of a wolf, with so little body left that sunlight could be seen through the bones of its rib cage. All had died long ago and now their corpses, animated through eldritch magic, followed the commands of the thing in the cave. The humanoids fanned out in a wide arc, the undead wolf scouted ahead, and the living dead ogre stomped along bringing up the rear. They would find whatever intruded in the mountains and bring it to their master.

[IsabellaRose]

15 The Western Ocean

Arachne stood on the deck of the ship she had hired and stared forward to the west. The wind whipped her hair and tugged at the jacket she wore. She didn't look like a member of the Imperium Magus. She was dressed in tight leather pants, a low cut blouse, and a jacket made of soft, brown leather. The boots she wore were more suited to riding or climbing than city life. The outfit suited her; it was made for adventure, exactly as Arachne herself felt made for adventure.

She had done as much research as possible before setting to sea. She had searched the minds of countless Tapone refugees and from their memories she had pieced together what she thought she might face across the sea. Mostly she was able to see their homeland, another continent even larger than that upon which the Empire sprawled. Their lives before fleeing their homes, their hopes and dreams, families split up in the flight from... what? What did they need to escape?

They were powerful, whatever... whoever they were. They used magic. But she couldn't see faces, couldn't tell if they were human or something else. She had cast back to Altenburg, sent her findings to Idomeneus. She hadn't even had a chance to see him the last time she was in the Stillhalle, and she regretted that. He was adorable, the blonde-haired right hand of the Magnus. She would like to know him better. Perhaps when she returned...

"'Scuse me, Miss." The Captain interrupted her train of thought. "Storm's brewin'. You'd best get below deck." He pointed to the southwest where dark clouds threatened.

"Thank you, Captain." Arachne smiled at the man. Soon she might find more about whatever force drove the Tapone refugees before it, but for now there was nothing to do but go below deck and wait out the storm.
 

[IsabellaRose]

16 The Cloud Forest

Nydia had been following the smoke that rose out of the jungle valley for some time.  Progress through the cloud forests was slow, even in animal form. She had shifted to the form of a cougar to make it easier to dash through the thick brush but it seemed that she was still snagged by thorns or stopped dead in her tracks by deep gorges filled with rushing water or cliffs that prevented her from moving forward. Eventually she approached the edge of the clearing where the forest had been set on fire.

From her perch on the branch of a large tree, she could see the men of Yeni Yazisi as they worked. Not long ago this had been a wide, forested valley, but the earth was now black, as was the water of the river that twisted through the flat barren surface. It was easy to see why Jaiya had become so angry. Pairs of men worked at trees with axes and huge, double-ended saws. Others were chopping downed trees with axes and hatches while more loaded the cut lumber onto large carts using a complex system of ropes and pulleys. The smaller cuttings were pilled and burned along with the underbrush, obviously the source of the smoke she had been following.

She had little experience using the full abilities of her animal form, so she dropped to the ground and expended most of her magic to return to her natural human form. She walked out of the jungle directly toward the work group. Men stopped working as she approached and stood to look at her. She glanced sideways at several of them as she passed, her expression dismissive. She was a wizard of the Circle; she had no need to interact with laborers. Their gazes were no more friendly, and some seemed openly hostile.

Nydia approached a large man who had been issuing orders to the others. He had a thick mustache and dark, sweat-soaked hair that stuck to sides of his head in the heat. As she drew closer he looked up, his eyes widening in surprise briefly before narrowing in a suspicious squint.
"What do you want, girl?" His hand was on the hilt of a machete he wore at his waist, and his men all shuffled their feet, several holding chains, ropes, staves, or small tools that could easily become weapons. The large man's tone indicated that he had no intention of listening to any requests she made, and that she was clearly not trusted.

She hesitated for a moment, eyes darting to the side as the men encircled her, but then used a small amount of magic to project her voice to address them. They would each hear her voice as a booming sound, but also as a near whisper directly in their ears.

"I am Nydia Nisi, apprentice to Bartholomej Nicolaides, High Wizard of the Riverlands. I have been sent with a message from The Tower Circle. The Circle demands that the destruction of the Cloud Forest cease. We must end all hostilities within the south. The Southern Free Lands must stand together in preparation for war with the Zuberei Imperium."  

"The tower holds no power here. Our sorcerers have reported no such order."

"We cannot risk war within the south when war threatens us from outside." Nydia realized her voice sounded too close to pleading. Why was she even talking to these men? They were not her mission, nor were they likely to help her find Jaiya. 

The large man laughed. "A witch commanding animals and cannibals to attack is hardly a war."

"Jaiya is no witch."  Nydia said. "She is a mage of the Tower Circle."

"You sympathize with the savage?" The man grinned and turned to the men with him. "Another witch like the one who tries to stop us. Prettier than the other though, isn't she?"

The men nodded and Nydia felt her cheeks flush as she spied a few lecherous grins. She did her best to remain steadfast, but they outnumbered her and she was uncertain how she would fight off or escape so many. Her magical resources were low after shapeshifting, and she hadn't been able to recharge. 

"Show her what we do with savages," said the large man.

Nydia had just realized the threat of that comment when a loop of rope fell around her shoulders. Her eyes went wide and she started to move as another rope fell over her head. She felt the two loops of rope pulled in opposite directions, one around her shoulders, pinning her arms to her side, the other around her neck. She struggled to free herself as she was tugged off balance and the circle of men around her closed in.

[IsabellaRose]

17 Near Lake Aetherus, The Barrier Mountains

Sylla pushed through the hip deep snow, pressing on into the night. The moonlight reflecting off of the snow provided enough light for her to continue, and the cold made her want to keep moving just to try to stay warm. She had used far more of the energy of the istilik stones than she had expected pushing back the icy fingers of the winter winds. This close to Lake Aetherus she might be able to find a nice sheltered spot to snuggle up to her dog snow and rest. Whatever protected the staff, she would need to be rested and recharged in order to face it.
She climbed atop a ridge and held her thick white cloak close to her body. It was cold, but the wind had stilled and the entire area seemed calm and serene. The snow muffled any sound, the valley below was an unbroken white blanket across the landscape, and Lake Aetherus reflected the night sky like a giant, black mirror. She turned her face skyward and looked up at the stars. From up here at the top of the Barrier Mountains, they were spectacular, appearing so much closer and brighter than from anywhere else on the planet.

She looked back down into the valley, hoping that fate would give her a hint as to where she needed to go. As her eyes searched the landscape, Snow moved in front of her and began to growl. His head was low, teeth bared. Sylla strained her ears and eyes, but sensed nothing. Still, she knew Snow's senses were far more sensitive than her own. If he was growling like that, something was wrong. She focused her power, ready to use magic to defend herself if necessary.

Another wolf stepped forward out of the shadow cast by an outcropping of rock, but this one did not have long, white fur like Snow. This wolf was equally as large but had dark, scraggly, matted hair and disturbingly blank empty eyes, as if it were...  dead.

Those eyes told Sylla what they faced. Snow barked as it came closer. The undead wolf replied with a pained howling whine, then turned and ran off toward Aethereus Lake.  Where there was one undead thing, there would be others.  This was trouble.

"Stay close Snow," Sylla said to the wolf. There would be no rest now. She began to make her way down into the valley, eyes scanning the surrounding area, but mostly relying on Snow to sniff out whatever else might lie in wait for them.

[IsabellaRose]

18 Jawahara

Malik Sala looked across the low, grassy hills to the high walls of Jawahara. The city had been the jewel in his crown when he ruled these lands; from here he had commanded everyone for many miles in every direction. Since his return from the darkness, his following had grown. Even outsiders, followers of other gods from other lands, had begun to flock to his cause. The Empire had many enemies, and many grudges were held against those that ruled.

Malik turned his horse and looked back at the small band that rode with him. These were his most trusted followers, ten men who, under his command, would change the world. Each of them commanded a small army of faithful that even now were infiltrating Jawahara disguised as merchants, farmers, and tradesmen. They would be in place before the gates closed at sunset. Al Mamlaka, literally translated as the kingdom, and the term Malik and his people used to describe all of their traditional lands, would again be his.  

He rode back down the hill and addressed the men. "By morning, we will again hold the city, and with little bloodshed."

The men pounded their right fists to their chests, a traditional salute of his people.

“Our men are positioned in cities across Al Mamlaka. Tonight is the night. At midnight we strike." He raised his fist into the air and his voice rose. "Jawahara will be ours! Al Mamlaka will again be ruled by the faithful!"

The men cheered.
 

[IsabellaRose]

19 Aqith

Molech had ridden into the small town of Aqith and found what he sought. Here, in the smaller settlements, sentiments were most likely to lie with their own people, and a small group of riders had gathered in the local qahwah, or coffeehouse, to discuss the overthrow of the empire. Molech had little trouble picking details from their minds to aid in his cover story, and in no time he had infiltrated their group.

When they left the qahwah, Molech rode with them out of Aqith and on to the larger city of Adas, where they spent the night with the family of one of the riders. The next day, they were to head to Jawahara to meet up with the larger army, and Molech was to accompany them. He bedded down with the men, but sleep would elude him tonight, as he would be forced to concentrate on his disguise lest it slip while he dozed.

It was near midnight when he noticed three of his band rise quietly and slip out of the house into the darkness of night.

Something was happening.

[IsabellaRose]

20 The Northern Wastes

Kali and Eckhart had each slept for a few hours, then woke and practiced a tantric ritual to build the power they would need to open a portal and still have some reserves. It was nearing midnight, but this far north it was always night, so time was relative. They had decided to head north to the token they had left behind and approach the flashing lights cautiously and on foot. There was no need to attempt to go further north into an unknown situation.

They clothed themselves in furs and pelts, protection from the cold, and each wove a spell of protection from the elements about themselves. When they were ready, they joined hands and spoke a few quiet words. A swirling portal opened in the air before them, a one-way path to the token they had left behind. Kali glanced once at Eckhart, then they both stepped through the misty portal, but not into the snowy field where they had left the token. Instead, they stepped out into a dark stone pit.

The shaft in which they found themselves was about 6 feet in diameter and well over 10 feet deep. It was dimly lit by an unseen light source above, and when they looked up, they could make out bars crossing the top of the pit. The token that they had left in the snow was laying in front of them on the rock floor. Someone had taken their token and laid a trap.

Eckhardt looked at Kali who opened her mouth to speak, but remained silent when he shook his head. He pointed to the token, then made a gesture indicating that they should open another portal and leave.

Kali shook her head. They were already here. They could find out what dangers were concealed in the Northern Wastes.

Eckhardt moved his hands, preparing to open the portal himself, but nothing happened. He felt something like pressure, like a grip on his arm holding him back, but this grip wasn't physical. It was like a lock on his magic, holding it back, keeping him from using his power. Fear flashed across his face, and he tried to signal Kali, but she was looking up toward the barred top of the pit, her face impassive. He followed her gaze at saw what had her attention.

The dark silhouette of a humanoid peered over the edge of the pit, large, glowing eyes blinking as it watched them. It waved a long-fingered hand and the bars atop their prison seemed to melt and disappear, running down the side of the pit to become a ladder. The creature made no sound, but communicated to both Kali and Eckhart through thought. It instructed one of them, and only one, to climb the ladder, though it seemed to have no preference for which of them did so. It stepped back away from the pit and waited.

"It wants one of us to come up," said Kali.

"I'll go." Eckhart placed his hand on a rung of the ladder.

"Wait." Kali touched his shoulder and he turned to face her. "I am stronger with telepathy. I should go. It might make all the difference if I can communicate with it."

Eckhart shook his head. "You don't have half of my training. If things turn ugly, you'll be virtually defenseless up there."

"We need to communicate, Eckhart, not fight." Kali put her hands on her hips.

Eckhart shook his head. "What brought us here? Did we come for conversation? Did we sense a presence that we wanted to talk to? No. We sensed evil. Evil lives here, Kali. We don't talk to evil, we destroy it."

Kali opened her mouth to protest, then thought better of it. She sighed, looked to the ground, then back at Eckhart. She nodded once.

"Be ready," he said, as he climbed the ladder.

"Be careful," she called to his back, as he hefted himself up over the lip of the pit.

Eckhart climbed out of the pit and stood before the creature. He made no threatening moves, but prepared himself for whatever may come as he studied the creature. It was taller than him by at least a foot and wore a dark, hooded cloak, concealing its form from him.

[IsabellaRose]

21 Governor's Mansion, Bojadrar

Anastasia was bound to the bed in the Ambassador's quarters. It was a large bed with high posts at each corner, and she lay spread eagle on it, face up. Considering the cultural attitude toward women and sex, it was a testament to Balthazar's self-restraint that she was still fully clothed. He had wanted the younger woman from the time he met her, back when she was just an apprentice wizard from the Gulf Coast.

She had been too young back then, a temptation he could resist despite her but beauty. She was still too young for him, but she had at least reached the age of majority, and looking down at her tied to the bed renewed his attraction to the girl. He had fantasized about her plenty of times back then, but she had been friends with Sylla, and back then he and Sylla were... 

He pushed thoughts of Sylla from his mind for now. Bound as she was, Anastasia would offer little trouble to him, but he had to complete the next part of his plan quickly in order for things to work as well as he hoped.

Kamala entered the room, her black robes swirling, still flashing more skin than most women dared. She eyed the queen on the bed, then glanced sideways at Balthazar, her lips twisting in a half smile, half sneer.

"I had no idea you liked your women bound, Balthazar." She turned her body to face him, a new appreciation for him evident in her body language, as well as her tone. "We have more in common than I would have guessed."

Balthazar gave her a quick, unreadable look, then held up an intricately decorated golden collar. He opened the latch, and approached the bed. Kamala's eyes widened when she saw the collar, and she moved to the other side of the bed, one hand grasping for the collar. She held one side of the open collar while Balthazar fitted it around Anastasia's neck, then he held the other side.

Balthazar and Kamala's eyes met, and he nodded. They spoke the simple words of binding slowly as their hands moved closer, bringing the two ends of the collar together. When their spell was done, the collar locked itself magically around Anastasia's neck. There was no escape for her now.

Kamala smiled as she look across the sleeping queen at Balthazar. "You gave her to me?" She was surprised and pleased at the same time.

"She is both of ours. We spoke the words together. She must obey both of our commands or face the punishment the collar gives." He looked down at Anastasia. She was beautiful. The commands he would give her...

"You intend to share?" Kamala was in shock. "Balthazar, you know as well as the others that I play with my toys harder than most."

"That is why I decided to share with you. The threat of your dominance may well force her to do things she may otherwise resist." 

"Oh, let me have one night with her, Balthazar." Kamala pouted. "Don't be a tease."

"If Anastasia is as I remember her, she will resist. You will very likely have your fun."

Kamala grinned wickedly. "You've got me all excited now. If I can't play with her, you owe me a plaything."

Balthazar was about to reply, the look on his face said it would be sharp and unpleasant, when Anastasia began to wake. They both stepped back across the room to give her a moment to accustom herself to her surroundings. Kamala stepped behind a curtain, Balthazar stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed over his chest.

[IsabellaRose]

22 City of Tan, Zuguo Province

The city of Tan was alight with the fire of rebellion. Torrents of rain poured down from the sky as the citizens took to the streets, battling the imperial soldiers they confronted there. The column of soldiers had been broken and many men had been killed in the initial attack, but with time the soldiers had regrouped, falling back on their training and experience. They retreated, drawing the rebels back towards the docks where more troops awaited. More Imperial ships moved toward the docks to disgorge even more soldiers, despite the storm. 

Three large ships filled with soldiers moved across the turbulent sea, rocking back and forth on the angry waves. Sheets of rain poured down to obscure vision. The sun had not set, but the clouds were so dark that it could have been dusk. Between the dark skies and their focus on the shore and the battle underway there, the Imperial vessels hadn't even noticed the large, black sails of the dark ship that came up from behind the fleet.

The first volley of canon fire might have been mistaken momentarily for thunder. Seconds later, when the hail of cannonballs tore through the last ship in the line, the truth was evident. Screams of pain and terror echoed across the bay as men were slain or injured and the hull of the ship splintered and cracked. As it tilted and began to take on water, the dark ship was already in position to fire on the next boat.

Captain Aimar turned his spyglass toward the new ship and focused on it just as it fired on the second transport. He called out commands to the men on the deck of the Divine Right and they responded quickly. The ship swung about, doing their best to get an angle on the ship with the black sails, but they had no speed and the enemy was moving in quickly.

The Divine Right had just begun turning toward the bay, but the new ship was already up to speed and was clearly more maneuverable. It had its canons aimed at the Divine Right while the much larger ship was just turning into the bay. All canons fired at the Imperial flagship, while only one of the two forward facing canons were able to return fire. The black-sailed ship took a single hit, while the larger Imperial vessel was hammered with cannonballs. The hull splintered, the foremast shattered and collapsed to the deck, rigging and fragments of the ship falling around the crew. 

The Divine Right leaned to one side as it began to take on water far faster than it should have. The black-sailed ship had slowed as it reloaded, readying another volley of cannonballs. Captain Aimar gritted his teeth and shouted commands and the massive Imperial ship came about, trying to bring the full array of canons to bear on the enemy. It was too little too late. The enemy ship fired again, and this would be the last attack they would need to make on the Divine Right. The side of the hull shattered, water poured into the empty space. The main mast collapsed, men screamed and died, and the entire ship lurched hard to one side.

It was over far too quickly. Captain Aimar gripped the railing as his ship tilted under him. He glared at the enemy, his jaw set, as his ship slid further and further below the waves. There was no recovering from this. His men were leaping into escape boats or the water. He saw men swimming, some hanging onto splintered pieces of their ship, and others disappearing below the surface. 

On the docks, the third ship was disgorging men as quickly as it could before the black-sailed ship fired upon them. The colonel in charge bellowed orders, trying to get his men safely off the ship while other soldiers retreated from the overwhelming forces pushing them back from the city to the docks.

"Pirates! Clear off of the docks! Push into the city!" The colonel ordered all of the men to run inland towards the mob of citizens.

The third transport was pummeled with cannonballs as the pirates unleashed their attack. As its' hull cracked and broke apart, the last few soldiers either leaped to the docks across an increasing gap or slid back along the deck and into the water. The pirate ship sailed forward, slowing very little as it approached the dock. The soldiers scrambled toward the city, but the pirate vessel rammed the dock, smashing through the timbers is if it were a blade slicing through fresh fruit. Soldiers and sailors jumped into the water or disappeared under the prow of the ship in foam and shards of wood.

On the bow of the pirate ship a woman stood holding the rigging with one hand, a scimitar in the other. She had dark skin, long dreadlocks wrapped in a bandanna, and grey eyes that seemed to glow. Her lips moved as she sung a loud song over the storm. Her words were in a language older than either the Zuberei or Zuguo Empires, but they conveyed power and seemed to allow her to control her ship. This was the Pirate Queen Bellaqua Narcissa of the Tuug Islands and her ship The Tempest, the most feared combination of ship and captain in the oceans of the known world.

The boat slowed as the wind shifted directions, the waves seemed to rise up to slow the vessel and rather than slam into the wharf, it bumped gently up against the quay. Pirate Queen Bella stepped forward off the bow of the ship without seeming to look, dropping only about five feet onto the roof of a boat house on the shore. Dozens of her crew jumped to the roof of the boathouse, then to the ground below as they took to the land to fight the now greatly outnumbered imperial soldiers.

The colonel in charge looked to the pirates coming in from the boat and the citizens running in from the town and issued the only order he could. "Retreat! The battle is lost!"

Turning to his the scouts and runners, he issued another command. "Do what you must to escape the city. Head west to Zho. Find General Durus. Tell his men what has happened here, that the rebellion was stronger than we thought, the City of Tan is lost. But most importantly, tell them that the Pirate Queen of the Tuug Islands aids the rebels. They have violated the non-aggression pact with the south."

[IsabellaRose]

23 The Cloud Forest

The men of Yeni Yazisi encircled Nydia. There was a rope around her neck and another around her arms, but they both came from the same side, so they men were unable to pull her off balance. Three of them had long poles with loops attached to the ends, the kind of tool used to catch a wild animal by the neck while remaining out of reach of its teeth and claws. The others had clubs or were unarmed. At first she feared they might try to beat her to death, but the gleam in their eyes hinted at another goal. 

"You're pretty, girly," said one as the men fanned out, trying to encircle her.

"I got an animal you can try to control," yelled another, one hand grabbing his crotch. This elicited laughter from the rest of the men, as they continued moving around her in a circle, so that the same man was never in the same place. It was a trick they had learned that seemed to work well against the wild cats, though they had no idea how well it work against a shape-shifter. She was the first this particular group had encountered. 

Nydia stood there nervously as the men circled around her. Perhaps she should have considered her situation more carefully, but she hadn't known how much animosity and hate had grown towards Jaiya and the other "savages" of the cloud forest. She looked at the ground around her, but scorched earth and burnt forest did not make for ideal conditions to cast her nature based spells.  

Two men approached her straight on, grinning, their eyes hinting at their intent. Both were shirtless, and neither was armed. She remained confident as they approached her. As they both lunged for her trying to grab her arms and wrestle her to the ground, she made a simply hand motion and transformed instantly back into a cougar. The transformation itself increased her size enough to break the rope around her arms. Now she was a menacingly large cat nearly twice the body weight of the girl she had been moments before. She swiped a clawed paw at one of them and watched him roll out of her reach.

Nydia watched as the men fell back and continued to circle around her. They didn't seem affected by her transformation into a giant cat. In fact, they seemed ready for it. She hissed at them, growled and turned back on them, making a few sudden motions forward, hoping to scare at least one of them enough to break the circle so she could escape, but none of them fell back.

Two different men ran forward at her this time. This was her chance. If she could push between them she could escape into the forest. She snarled at the them and jumped forward, knocking one down, then pounced on the other. She opened her mouth and ripped into the flesh of his arm, not wanting to kill any of them, but hoping to scare them enough to let her go. She tasted blood and heard his screams, backing away to examine her handiwork. His chest was lacerated by her claws, his arm bled from where she bit him, the muscle hanging from his upper arm where her teeth had torn it away.

The smiles on the faces of the men surrounding her had faded and one or two looked sickened by the damage she had caused. She hadn't been able to escape, but perhaps if she could jump at another of them, she could scare him into retreating and providing her an escape route. She jumped at the second one but found herself suddenly stopped, pulled back by two ropes looped around her neck. The ropes were at the ends of long poles and the men pulled in different directions to keep her from tugging away. Unfortunately for Nydia, she wasn't familiar with the trapping weapons that the men had carried. 

She jerked around noticing two men on either sides with the loops at the end of their poles wrapped around her neck. When she tried to pull away, the loop choked her. If she tried to rush the man with the loop, the pole kept her at bay. She thrashed against their ropes just as a third loop was tossed forward, narrowly evading it. If the third loop fell over her head, they'd have her in their control. As it was she was nearly theirs. The man with the other capture loop checked his grip on the long pole and moved in again for another try.
 
The one who had been bitten was screaming, and the one who was with him dragged him back away from her. It was an opening, one she would have to take quickly before the others closed the circle around her. She lunged for the opening, but the third man had predicted her movement, this time snaring her head with the the loop at the end of his pole.

With three of the poles holding her by the neck, the men moving to space themselves evenly around her, no amount of struggling would help. The poles kept her from moving in any direction. She was left to thrash helplessly as the men held her easily in place, laughing at the disabled feline. They moved in, smacking her with sticks, kicking her back and sides while her claws were aimed in another direction. She yowled as their assault carried on for a few minutes, trying desperately to pull free. Eventually, the large cat collapsed onto the ground, exhausted. She could no longer sustain the shape transformation and shifted back into the form of a small, young woman. She lay on the ground, gasping for breath, her body bruised, the loops of rope still wrapped around her neck.

The men closed in upon her, and she had no energy or magic left to stop them.

[IsabellaRose]

24 Governor's Mansion, Bojadrar

Anastasia stirred, consciousness coming back slowly. Perhaps it was the sensation of cold steel around her neck that helped pull her back to wakefulness.  A moan escaped her lips. Her had pounded, an aftereffect of the drug.  She blinked a few times, trying to focus on anything, her vision cloudy.  She tried to sit up, which brought awareness of her unpleasant truth. She was tied down somewhere. As she craned her neck trying to take in her surroundings she became aware of two things: she was tied to a bed, and a metal collar was locked around her neck. 

Her eyes fell upon Balthasar standing at the foot of the bed and her situation resolved in her mind.  She remembered sitting with him, drinking juice, poisoned juice, and trying to run from him.  Obviously she had not succeeded.  Why would he do this to her? Why would he tie her to a bed after she peacefully approached him? Perhaps she shouldn’t be so surprised. Why the collar, though? Did he feel some need to humiliate her? 

"This will not stand Balthasar." Her voice held the steel of command and the full measure of her fury as she jerked her arms against the ropes that held her in place, thrashing wildly. She stopped after a few moments, realizing it was useless, and took a deep breath, then spoke more calmly.

"Even an empire needs the support of its people.  Do you think they will support their Lord Magnus who kidnaps queens, ties them up and puts collars on them?” Anastasia stared at him, but he did not respond.

“The Circle will know of this. They'll come for you. Sylla will come for you, and she is not the same girl you knew." Anastasia jerked one last time against the ropes and turned her head back towards the ceiling indignantly.

"I don't think you fully appreciate your situation, Your Highness," said Balthasar, a hint of mockery in his tone when he called her your highness.

He walked to the side of the bed and sat on the edge near her head. He had carefully placed himself on the side opposite the curtain behind which Kamala had concealed herself.

"You are bound to a bed." He said it matter of fact, as if tying women to beds were an everyday occurrence for him. "As a woman, one would assume you would understand the vulnerability of your position." To emphasize this point, he traced one fingertip along her jawline, down her neck, and barely came to the top of her breasts before removing his touch. "As a wielder of magic, one would assume the potential for tantra to be woven using your own power would be obvious." At this, he glanced at her skirts and slid one hand millimeters above her clothing, above the place where her legs met, barely keeping himself from touching her clothing, and stared into her eyes.

"You've never been as powerful as Sylla, or as me," he said. He was drawing this out, actually enjoying it. She had been one of his betrayers in the south, and though he had dreamed of revenge in the past, he hadn't expected having her under his power would feel this good.

"But you are still powerful, in your own right. You might wonder why I am so sure of myself, why I'm not shielded or holding you in a containment field. It's the collar, my dear." He touched it once, sending an inexplicable chill through her body. "It's called a torquem. It's very, very old. There were once hundreds of them, but now we only know of three. They were used in the last age to subjugate mages."

He waited for his words to settle in, saw the dawning of realization on her face, and smiled. "Once placed around the neck of a mage, she is unable to use magic, unless commanded to do so by the person who placed the collar upon her neck. She is also compelled to obey that person." He smiled at the look upon the look on her face. "Oh, don't get me wrong. You can resist. You can choose not to obey, but there are consequences."

"Go ahead. Try some magic." He smiled at her predicament, wondering what she was thinking, wishing the collar allowed him total control over her, or the ability to read her thoughts. Still, having her here, like this, was quite enjoyable. Part of him hoped she resisted. It would make the entire process that much more entertaining.