Chapter 2

Dalgand's dreams did not seem to end. Within them he saw massive battles, thousands of magieri, demonic shapes, and the great hero Hildebrand. The sequences were incoherent at best and maddening at worst. On the day he finally awoke, he found himself in a white room with the noonday sun shining softly through lace curtains. He felt surprisingly well, except for a strange niggling sensation at the far corners of his mind. He sat up and took a look around.

Everything in the room was white from the walls to the bed sheets, the only exceptions being the wood floor and furniture. He knew at once he was in the university's healing ward in Steinburg, the capital city of Thurengein.

As he looked around, he saw with great relief that his shoulder pouch of alchemical supplies and his lantern staff had been placed on a chair near his bed. The lantern had been snuffed out. He also noticed he was still wearing his alchemist robes, instead of the white robes a patient was supposed to wear. Whatever had happened to him must have been very dire. He wondered briefly how long he had been lost in his dreams.

To his left, he heard the door creak open. A man peaked his head inside.

“Oh, ancestors be praised,” he said with overwhelming relief and quickly entered. In one motion, he grabbed an extra chair and sat down by the bed.

He was a tall and broad man, obviously muscled even though he was clad in chainmail and a breast plate. His hair and beard were dark brown and neatly trimmed, and his eyes were a piercing blue. He was handsome, but had the look of a man who had not slept well in many days.

“Vil, you aren't on duty, are you?” Dalgand said with a smile.

“I have all day to be on duty,” Vil replied, smiling as well.

Villem Aldren and Dalgand had been friends ever since Vil had saved Dalgand from a throng of bullying city guards on his first day in Steinburg. Dalgand had come to start his new life as a master apothecary at the tender age of sixteen; the guards had come to show him what they thought of magieri. Villem had looked after Dalgand since that day, earning himself a less than favorable reputation amongst his fellows. However, as Villem was the captain of the King's personal honor guard, no one dared to give him much trouble about being friends with a magier.

With the pleasantries aside, Dalgand's face became solemn. “How long was I asleep?”

“Too long,” Villem replied, shaking his head. “They rushed you back here, nearly killed a horse to do so. You were white as snow, all in sweats, and the blacks of your eyes were so large, they drowned out the color. No one knew what was wrong with you, not even Hilbren! Honestly, Dal...they left you in here expecting you to die.”

A lump rose in Dalgand's throat. “They did nothing for me?”

“What were they to do?” Villem asked, his voice full of sympathy.

Dalgand nodded slowly. To think, he had been so far gone that he had practically been offered up to his ancestors. Villem noticed the pain in his friend's face.

“And you kept me up worrying, you foolish a*s,” he said with a slight grin. “Can't come back from a dig unscathed just once?”

“If you weren't so intent on mothering me, I wouldn't be so intent on worrying you.”

Villem laughed. “If you weren't still bed ridden, I'd beat you.”

“I do feel better now, Vil. Surprisingly so, in fact. I don't believe I'll be in bed much longer.”

“That's good to hear, but try not to rush things. The apothecaries will want to keep you a while longer to try and make some sense of this mystery.”

“I suppose so.”

Villem smiled softly, infinitely grateful that Dalgand was well again. He rose from his chair and took Dalgand's hand in his.

“The King has done me a great favor allowing me to check in on your, but I must return to his side. I'll be sending Gwen to look in on you later.”

“Vil, Gwen hates me. Let her be. Don't force her to care.”

Villem patted the back of Dalgand's hand, then let go with a sly grin. “She'll learn.”

With that he turned and left. Dalgand knew his friend meant well, but he could not imagine Villem's sister coming to see him, forced or not. He did not blame her for hating him. Hatred for magieri was not uncommon in Thurengein. It had started with the advent of magic. Thurengein, a country where one's worth had been measured by the strength of one's sword arm, quickly realized even an amateur Firebrand could cause more destruction than a champion swordsman. Fierce warriors descended from generations of proud fighters found themselves being tossed aside to make room for magier armies.

In truth, the magieri soldiers were little more than slave to whichever warlord owned them, but that mattered little to the pride of a seasoned warrior.

The next resurgence of hatred had occurred when the magieri of old had lost control of themselves. They turned on their warlords and their countries in a full scale attack. Hunting and killing renegade magieri became Thurengein's ultimate training device for learning to defeat a magic-wielding foe.

Though the wars had long since passed and magieri had regained control of themselves, the old prejudices and hatred lived on. Some hated magieri for their ancestors who were replaced by them, others for ancestors who had been slain, the rest did not even remember the reason for their hatred anymore.

Dalgand pitied Gwen at times. Her prejudice was the only blackened spot on an otherwise nice girl.

* * *

Contrary to what Villem had said, the apothecaries in charge did not want to study Dalgand's recovery. They knew a mystery beyond their ability to uncover when they saw one. They did, however, keep him in bed for a week to ensure he was fine.

The day he was finally able to leave brought an unexpected visitor. As he was eating a small breakfast of eggs and sausage, Mathis Hilbren entered the room. Dalgand dropped his fork and was bowing in an instant.

“Master Hilbren, is it a great honor to have you visit me here,” he said with expertly contained delight. “I have heard that you attempted to cure me while I was in my coma. You have my thanks.”

Hilbren gave a small smile as Dalgand stood straight again. “It was only fitting. I was the one who gave you your task, after all.”

He seated himself in the chair by the bed and motioned for Dalgand to finish his meal.

“I have already heard much from Yosef and Stephen about your discoveries. However, they both seemed unclear about what happened in the dark room. It seems they immediately rushed you out after you collapsed.”

“They are good men,” Dalgand said with pride.

“Very, and I have rewarded them for their decisiveness and haste.” Hilbren leaned in. “But I was wondering what you might be able to tell me about what you found there.”

“Oh, of course,” Dalgand said, mildly taken aback. “I'm afraid I can't say much. There was a stone chest, and inside was some sort of black form. It surrounded me, but I don't quite recall what happened next. I think it spoke to me somehow.”

Hilbren pressed his fingertips together and nodded. “And you did not think to send word for me to inspect such a grand discovery myself?”

“Uh, well, you had placed me in charge of the dig. I was under the impression that I was to inspect any finds myself, and then bring them back to you. That is, well, I could not have known this one would not be transportable.”

Again Hilbren nodded. “Let us hope you do not make the same assumption again.”

“Of-of course not, sir,” Dalgand stammered out as Hilbren stood and left.

Dalgand hung his head and sighed, his unfinished breakfast now completely abandoned. He tried to make sense of what had just happened, but found it difficult to do so. Even if it had been a misunderstanding of one another, it seemed impossible to blame himself for what had transpired. Even if his actions had ruined a potentially large discovery, wasn't it better to have had him face the consequence rather than risking the Head Master's life?

Or perhaps he would not have caused the same thing to happen, he thought. Mathis Hilbren did not ascend to his position by being a fool. Perhaps he could have discovered what was really in that chest.

Dalgand sighed again. It was futile to wonder about all of this now. He took up his satchel and staff, and left the university.

* * *

Steinburg was a large city of very little beauty, named for the thick stone walls that surrounded it. It had been built under Hildebrand's direct orders to be the new capital city of Thurengein after he had pushed back the magieri and united all of Thurengein's warlords under his banner. He had not been a fool, and knew men used to fighting over power would fight him for it as well. So he made his city a fortress, one that could be easily defended against any attackers. As such, the streets were laid out in an odd manner. The outermost wall was a large circle, and there were three more walls like it on the inside. Each of these walls had thick, heavy wooden gates, and each of the gates were in a different cardinal direction. This meant a little extra walking for the citizens, but extra protection as well.

The outermost ring was where the commoners lived, as well as the soldiers and guards. Any markets or shops in the first ring were small with little stock. Outsiders saw it as a desolate existence, as though the upper class was keeping the riffraff separated from themselves. In truth, it was a defensive decision. Lining the main road with the houses of soldiers was the first line of defense if the outer gate was breached, and keeping few goods for selling in the first ring made it more difficult for enemies to get away with a good haul of supplies. Of course, it meant that the citizens houses would be the first to go, but it was generally considered easier to rebuild houses than refill larders.

The second ring housed the merchants, the real shops, taverns, inns, and markets. It was the center for trade and commerce, as well as the location for festivals and tournaments. Unlike the first ring, all of the roads in the second ring were paved with cobblestones to speed along the constant flow of people and delivery carts.

The third ring contained the most important buildings. It was where the barracks were located, the courthouse, the houses of government officials, as well as the university and the Magier's Council. Though the courthouse was within the city, the prison and dungeons were not. Rather than keep dangerous criminals within their own walls, the populace had decided to build the prison six miles outside of the city so the citizens would feel safer. There was also a council chamber for political matters, but the current king had ruled so justly thus far that it had not seen use for quite some time.

The innermost ring contained the castle, and nothing else.

As a Council Master, Dalgand had been given a house and an alchemical laboratory within the third ring. It was a modest house, only a bit untidy, meant mostly for keeping appearances amongst the Council Masters. It was a half-timbered building, as was the majority of the houses and shops in Steinburg, with two stories and a small fenced garden outside the front door. On either side was another similar house, all meant for higher-ranking magieri. The laboratories were all located in or around the university. While that meant a bit of walking was required to reach one's experiments, it helped the citizens sleep well at night knowing that any possible magical accidents would not occur within a civilian quarter.

The laboratory Dalgand had been given was more than modest with multiple rooms and gardens. Any alchemist would be thrilled to have such accommodations for their work, and so Dalgand was very honored to call it his. However, he was a man who preferred simplicity, and he had kept a small cottage just outside of Steinburg for his true work since he had become a Council Master. The Council did not mind having one of their own experimenting in what they would consider squalor, though, so long as he occasionally used the laboratory to keep from looking like a failed alchemy student. Dalgand was more than happy to oblige them, so he used the laboratory for all of his correspondence as well as training the occasional university student.

He noticed Yosef standing outside his laboratory as he arrived to check for any messages left during his weeks in the healing ward. It appeared the past couple of weeks had not been kind to Yosef either. He was disheveled, to say the least, and unshaven. Dalgand sincerely hoped Villem had told Yosef he was being released today, and that the man had not waited there all this time. He rushed to Dalgand as he approached the gate.

“Blessed ancestors, you're all right!” he exclaimed as he clasped and shook Dalgand's hand. “I've been stopping by everyday for a week or so hoping to catch you returning to work.”

Dalgand gave a slight chuckle. “I appreciate your concern, but you could have just come and visited me in the wards. I've been healthy for about a week now.

“No, I didn't dare go near there. There's things I need to talk to you about that no one else should hear,” Yosef said before making a quick glance around them and leading Dalgand inside.

* * *

“What's this all about?” asked Dalgand as he placed his satchel on a table and leaned his lantern staff against a chair.

“I have something to give you. Something very important.” Yosef handed Dalgand a rolled up piece of parchment with a broken wax seal.

Dalgand uncurled the parchment. It was completely blank, leaving him to wonder why it needed the wax seal.

“I thank you, but I have enough blank parchment already,” he said.

Yosef shook his head. He was becoming more tense by the second. “It wasn't always blank.”

“Pardon?”

“It came from the stone chest.”

Dalgand looked up, stunned. He stared at the wax seal, seeing if he could recognize the symbols on it.

“We first saw it after you collapsed. Stephen was already hauling you out when I picked it up and broke the seal. I thought, since it had been in the chest, that it could have been whatever caused you to...” he trailed off. “Well, I thought it might hold the answers. But I didn't even get a full minute to look at it before the words just...evaporated off the page!”

Now Dalgand was feeling tense. “How can that be? I can't even think of a magic that could accomplish such a thing. What did it say? Did you make out anything?”

“Something about a seal, and water,” Yosef paused, “and demons.”

Dalgand sat down on a tall chair, resting his chin on his palm. He sighed as he puzzled over Yosef's description. It was so confusing. He was certain it meant something very important, but all his knowledge of the history and current uses of magic could not tell him anything useful. He looked around the room for the first time since he had entered it.

There was one long, wooden table down the middle that held dozens of alembics, mortars, pestles, calcinators, various other glassware, and mounds of alchemical ingredients. The opposite wall was a line of bookshelves with many of the books laying out on tables in front of them. Next to him was his desk, a jumbled mess of papers.

“Wait a minute,” Dalgand said as he jumped up in alarm. “I haven't been here for over a month. Why is is there such a mess? This place was organized when I left!”

“Master Hilbren sent men here looking for answers after you came back...in the way you did,” said Yosef. “They didn't find anything though. You hadn't been here, after all.”

“Why didn't you give him the parchment?” Dalgand shouted, his agitation increasing. “It might have helped my recovery.”

Yosef was visibly shaken. “Master Hilbren came to me before you were even laid in a bed in the wards. He was frightening. He wanted to know everything that we had found.”

“He just wanted to help me!”

Yosef shook his head. “He hadn't even seen your condition yet. He had no knowledge of its severity. He came to me first.”

Dalgand was stunned. He sat down again, suddenly wanting something solid to steady him. “And you didn't tell him about the parchment? Why?”

“Forgive me, sir, but I just felt that I shouldn't. Something seemed...off about him. He was so forceful about it, almost angry. It was frightening. I thought it best to say nothing. I thought that, if nothing else, I shouldn't be the one to tell him about it.”

Dalgand nodded. “What did you tell him about the shadow that attacked me?”

Now it was Yosef who looked stunned. “Sir, I...I don't know what you're talking about.”

Dalgand looked up at the man in alarm.

“When you collapsed, we weren't sure what had happened. We didn't see anything physically happen to you to cause that. You just...gasped and then you fell.”

“But there was a shadow! A shadow in the stone chest that came for me! You really didn't see it? Stephen didn't see it either?”

“I swear to you that we didn't,” said Yosef. “We were right by your side, sir. We would not have overlooked something like that.”

“But then...what did you see?” Dalgand asked urgently.

“You opened the chest, and it was dark in there. Then you gasped, and you collapsed. We tried to wake you, but you felt cold. Stephen hauled you up on his shoulder and ran out. As I was picking up your staff, I noticed the parchment in the chest. It was only then that I noticed it.”

“The shadow was covering the parchment,” Dalgand said softly. “I wish I knew what had been written on it.”

Dalgand was lost in his thoughts. The very brief description he had of what was written on the parchment was extremely confusing. He had no idea why it would mention water, as there were no rivers or lakes very near to the tower they had found it in. A seal could be either magical or physical, so there was not much information to take from that. Demons, though. That was a little more interesting to Dalgand. It was not much to base any sort of guess off of, but there had been a very old and very little known tale that the powers the magier wielded had once been given to them by demons long ago. It was hardly something worth considering seriously, though. Dalgand had always assumed magic had been blamed on demons after the first magier turned on their lords, who were practically enslaving them. But then, he had seen demonic shapes in his nightmares after the incident...

Yosef cleared his throat, bringing Dalgand back to attention. He smiled at Yosef. “Sorry, this is just a lot to take in.”

“Yes, of course,” said Yosef. “I was just wondering...if you don't mind, could you tell me what you experienced in that room?”

Dalgand looked around the disheveled room and stood. “Yes, I can, but not here. In two days I'll be returning to my lab outside the city. You and Stephen should meet me there if you want to hear about it. I'll feel more comfortable speaking there.”

This was not an issue for Yosef. He left Dalgand to clean up his laboratory.

Reviews

[Cheshire]

Careful of your use of personal pronouns. They were fairly heavy in the first few paragraphs, and when you switched the "he" over to the new man entering the room, I almost thought you were still talking about the main character, and had to go back and re read it. Don't be afraid to use things like "the man" or "the girl" or even more descriptive things like "The mentally challenged sycophant" to add even more levels of submersion to your story. Overuse of names and pronouns can be distracting and cause readers to lose touch with the story as they try to keep track of who you may be describing or who is talking.