The rain dripped steadily from the roofs of the houses, splattering and bouncing upon the cobbles of the street below. Running in rivulets down the incline, it added to the already overfilled gutters. Here and there, lights flickered behind closed curtains, but for the most part the inhabitants had taken to their beds, for the hour was late, and the weather uninspiring.
Not all in the town that night were restful however. One figure hurried through the streets regardless of the weather. Touching seven feet in height and of strong build as were all leonin, he made an imposing figure. From within the shadows of his hood, his eyes shone yellow, no strangers to the predatory gleam that glittered in the eyes of all the children of Leonan the Hunter. At either side of his head, his catlike ears made tents in the material that covered them, the tip of his feline muzzle only barely remaining under shelter. His long tail brushed at the lower hem of his cloak as he walked, held just clear of the drenched cobblestones under the large feet that made surprisingly little noise as they fell.
To the leonin, the rain and the lateness of the hour were was both blessing and curse, for it meant that he would not be seen... even if circumstances made him wish otherwise. Pulling his sodden cloak tighter about his shoulders, he sloshed onwards, heading for the edge of town. He glanced up at the moon as it appeared briefly between a break in the dark clouds above, but in seconds it had vanished again, its light dulled into greyness by the heavy rain.
The leonin stopped at a crossroads, wiping rain out of his eyes with one hand, the other clenched tightly around a piece of parchment in his pocket.
I can tell you what you want to know. Come alone, two nights from this. If you bring others, you will find nothing.
A taunting message, unsigned, undated, the only other thing on the parchment the directions to a meeting place. Only a fool would follow the instruction upon trust alone. A fool, or one who urgently needed the promised information.
Looking at the street sign, the cloaked leonin turned to his left, following the cobbled road until it lead him to the very edge of the town. Barely visible against the dark sky, he could make out a giant oak tree by the roadside, its branches whipping in the wind that drove the rain against his back.
He was walking into a trap. He knew it, he had to be. He was, after all, a man who many would like to have in their possession, a man of wealth, influence and power. A thin smile flickered across the shadowed face, one hand tracing the protective charms sewn into his cloak. What a surprise it would be when the trap rebounded upon those who set it. What a clear message it would be that from this point forwards, such actions would no longer be tolerated within his jurisdiction. This time, there would be no return to the lawless ways. This time he would make it final, a shining beacon of ultimate justice to ward off every thief, murderer, and low life who would dare trespass upon his lands.
But still… a tiny voice within him urged caution – not for himself, his life was not in danger this night, but caution for those who had brought him here. What if, the voice insisted, what if this is not a lie? What if they know? As he approached the tree, he nodded to himself. A chance must be given. If they were lying, he could deal with that when it became clear.
Rain dripped through the branches above as he leaned his back upon the trunk, the droplets spattering gently against his hood. He waited motionless as the rain came down around him, the wind gusting against the tree, whipping the branches into creaking motion.
To an outside observer, he might have seemed oblivious to the world. With his eyes in shadow, head bowed and arms folded across his chest, he might, perhaps have seemed asleep on his feet, almost a part of the tree behind him.
“Why have you brought me here?” he asked softly, his head never raising, his gaze never moving from the grass at his feet.
“Impressive, Prince Tiernach,” a voice said softly from the shadows on the far side of the tree.
“Why have you brought me here?” he repeated, his voice still soft but with a hint of steel behind the words, a flicker of sharp teeth visible as he spoke.
“I have information that you want,” the voice said, its owner still within the shadows.
“And what would that be?” Tiernach’s head twitched slightly.
“That which you have sought for five years. It is possible. It has been done by another, and can be so by you.”
Tiernach’s head turned within the shadows of his hood, his eyes glittering. “How do I know you are not lying?”
“Because you already know the name of the one with the knowledge. You once sought him, but you grew to fear him, and sought another way.”
Tiernach paused. “Tyrandius,” he stated.
“Yes.”
“He is gone from this world. Lost to the past,” he said dismissively.
“Not so. He has been found.”
“Then more fool the finder. Nothing good will come of it. He was the darkest, most powerful mage of ancient times. If his experiments did succeed, if he did survive... he will grant no favours.”
“Times have changed. Now he is vulnerable. He must make deals, grant favours to exist.”
“What deal would he seek with me?” Tiernach asked, his eyes narrowing as his eyebrows drew together.
“That is not for me to say. For that, you must speak to him.”
“How?”
A soft rustle from behind the trunk sounded as the speaker moved forwards to look Tiernach in the eye.
Dressed in night blue, she stood nearly as tall as he, the moonlight glittering in her bright green eyes as the clouds parted for a moment. Seeming to be in her mid twenties she was, he realised, both captivating and beautiful, a true daughter of the great Hunter. A soft smile played about her lips as she looked him up and down.
“Your description does not do you justice. I will take you to one who can bargain with you, if you wish me to,” she said softly. “May I have your word that I am safe in your company?”
Tiernach looked at her for a moment, one eyebrow raising slightly. Without warning, he grabbed her neck in his hand, whirling her around until her back pressed against the tree. Her eyes widened as both her hands gripped his wrist.
“Who am I to bargain with?” he growled, leaning close to her. He loosened his hand enough so she would not suffocate, but kept it around her neck. She looked back at him, not a trace of fear betraying her as he glared into her deep green eyes.
“Tyrandius cannot be spoken to directly. The magic that preserved his essence deprived him of that ability. I can only take you to the man who has spent more time with him than any. He can tell you what the deal is to be.”
“And why would I trust you?”
“Because you don’t want to die,” she told him. “And because you already know that there is no other way.”
Tiernach released her, withdrawing his arm. In the same instant, she leaned forwards, her hands behind his head, pulling him into a kiss. Caught off guard for a moment, he hesitated, then violently pushed her backwards as he tasted the bitterness upon her lips. Backing away, he staggered, feeling his head swim.
“Damn you…” he sank to the ground, one hand pressing into the wet grass as he struggled to stay upright.
“I am sorry, my Lord,” she knelt down next to him as he collapsed. “It will not harm you, do not fear…”
Tiernach fought to speak, if he could cast a spell he could end her in moments… but the drug robbed him of consciousness.
“Prince Tiernach?”
Tiernach found himself suddenly, jarringly awake. He was stretched out full length upon a wooden floor, a fireplace at his left side, the ceiling above lit by flickering torchlight. Instinctively, his hands went to his pockets.
“I fear we had to remove your spell ingredients. We were not sure what state of mind you would awake in.”
The leonin sat up, looking about him, feline eyes glittering warily, ears alert. The room was finely decorated, the wallpaper a soft off-white, a rich burgundy carpet, the furniture made of the finest timber and highly polished. In a chair across the room sat a man in black robes, upon which were stitched small dabs of silver, like stars in the night sky.
“Who are you?” Tiernach got to his feet warily, glancing around the room. His gaze came to rest upon a table underneath the curtained windows.
“Yes,” the stranger nodded. “Those are your ingredients. You may take them back, if that is your wish.” He spoke slowly, as if choosing his words carefully.
Crossing swiftly to the table, Tiernach grabbed the small pouches and shoved them back into his pockets in a carefully rehearsed order. He stared at the black robed man, one hand still with the last of his components, a powerful incendiary agent.
“Would you like to kill me, Prince Tiernach?” the man said, smiling slightly.
“I should,” Tiernach’s eyes narrowed.
“Ah, but then you would never know what you need to, would you.” There was no hint of a question in the slowly spoken sentence.
“Who are you?” Tiernach demanded again, angrily.
“My name, is less important than who I represent. I assume that Katrina has already explained.”
“She told me that you found Tyrandius, or what is left of him.”
“What is left...” the man looked thoughtful. “Yes, I suppose that is accurate. His body, of course, has long since departed this world, his spirit, his soul if you will...”
“There is no soul,” Tiernach stated, making a slashing gesture with one hand.
“Not by nature, perhaps, no, Prince Tiernach,” the man said. “But one can be forged. The essence of life, of consciousness can be maintained, even after the death of the body.”
“And you can tell me how?”
“I cannot.”
“Then why did you bring me here?” Tiernach growled, his hand once again dropping to his pocket.
“I would ask you, Prince Tiernach, to open that chest behind you. Yes, that one,” the robed man added, seeing Tiernach’s gaze land upon a small chest of heavy, black wood.
“Why?” Tiernach asked suspiciously, looking at the black chest upon the table behind him. He walked to it, and examined it carefully. Plain, and unassuming of construction, it seemed nothing unusual in itself. He ran his fingers around the seal of the lid, searching for any hint of irregularity.
“It is not trapped, Prince Tiernach, of that I can assure you,” the man told him slowly, sounding slightly amused. “If I wanted you dead, you would already be so.”
This was probably true, Tiernach realised. He had been unconscious for an unknown length of time, and obviously in this man’s presence while helpless. Left with little option, he raised the lid.
An amulet glittered within, its polished edges shining in the candlelight. The circular outer edge was of silver, spiked projections erupting from it at regular intervals like the thorns of a metallic rose. Within the silver band, a circular disk of obsidian surrounded an oval shaped ruby at the centre, a slitted pupil in a terrible eye. A shiver of recognition ran through him.
“You know, of course, what you are looking at, Prince Tiernach,” the man said, and again it was a statement rather than a question.
“The Eye of Night,” Tiernach whispered, horrified, his own words chilling him to the bone as he spoke them. “The vessel of Tyrandius.”
“And his claim to immortality, Prince Tiernach. In looking upon the Eye, you look upon eternal life.”
The ruby glittered, and Tiernach found himself staring into its depths, unable to tear his gaze away though his soul shrank in fear. It pulsed with an unholy light that beat upon his fingers as he raised them to shield his eyes, a wave of heat. The room shimmered around him.
He was standing upon the cliff edge at Sanctuary, when he had been training with the Order of Magi. His robes were the simple design of the apprentice, flapping loosely in the wind that blew against his fourteen year old body. Before him, the chaotic ocean heaved in the storm, the white caps of the waves pounding upon the rocky shore fifty feet below. The salt spray reached high up the cliff as if the sea were trying to crawl onto the land.
He looked to his left, exchanging a glance with Lanna, the human girl who had accompanied him. Three years older than he, and yet freely admitting that his talent with the art was greater than hers. Quiet, studious, but with a hidden, wild edge that longed to taste excitement and freedom. Tiernach had always been able to see that part of her, the way passion burned behind her calm exterior, that glitter in the eye, that slight quickening of breath that came with the use of magical power. He knew even before he told her of his plan, that she would accompany him gladly. This night, he had promised, she would see power that the elders of the Order would not permit them to see for years.
Now she sat quietly upon a rock, unmoving, her wet hair shining, her trust in his power unwavering. He nodded to her, and she returned it, smiling.
The time was now.
In one hand, he held a block of polished amber, inscribed with magical symbols and raised high above his head. His instructor, he knew, would have forbidden him to cast the spell he was about to weave, but he was ready, Tiernach knew he was. The words were simple, he had memorised them easily, hardly needing to scan them twice. He would prove his worth. After this, nobody would doubt that he was the brightest of the rising stars that the magi cultivated.
As he began to speak, he felt the soft surge of magic beginning to flow through him, the warmth that spread from inside him, telling him the power was his to command. The air around him seemed to crackle and energize as he continued, standing his fur on end, sending adrenaline pumping through his veins.
He focused upon the point ahead of him, a single rock that jutted from the waves a hundred yards out from shore. There, he decided. There. That would be the target point.
As the power of magic flowed through him, he brought his hand down in a sweeping motion. The water around the rock swirled, then bubbled upwards, encasing the rock in a liquid covering, as clear as glass. At Tiernach’s command, the water stretched upwards, a thin stream issuing skywards, a narrow channel that would guide the power of the storm to his target. Thunder rolled in the clouds above, but Tiernach knew it was nothing compared to what would come.
Tiernach traced the movement of the water column with his gesture as it flowed upwards, barely an inch wide, but strong and uninterrupted it reached higher into the stormy sky, the binding force of the young mage’s magic compelling it to hold its form.
At his side, Lanna watched in awe, her eyes fixed on the tip of the watery column, her breathing shallow and excited.
The wind gusted against them, blowing rain into Tiernach’s mouth and he sputtered for a moment, the water almost collapsing back into the waves. To hold it at this height was almost physically painful, the energy required almost beyond him. But not quite. He refused to give in. With a surge of energy from somewhere deep within, he forced the water skywards, he gaze focussed upon the ever-rising peak, now nearly reaching the grey clouds above.
But he had lost track of the base of the column. Focused upon the summit of the water, he had not noticed the wind picking up around him, how the bottom of the water had blown away from the rock and towards the cliff. Only when it was close enough to intrude upon his peripheral vision did he see it, and by then it was too late.
The lightning followed the path of least resistance, lancing groundwards along the thin guide of saltwater. The column vaporised instantly, but it didn’t matter. The storm was committed to the strike, and so was Tiernach.
The blast threw him backwards, landing upon the wet rocks, the gravel cutting into his burnt skin, adding to an agony so intense he couldn’t scream. His head rolled sideways as the thunder rolled over him, his eyes looking out over the rocks around him.
Lanna. Where was Lanna? He couldn’t see her, he was facing the wrong way. All he could see was shadows.
The shadows of death, he thought. Cold and dark, he could feel it upon him, reaching for him, drawing him into darkness.
So this was how he was to leave the world. A victim of his own power. So be it, Tiernach thought, closing his eyes. At least he had proved himself. He had done much good in his life, his place in the beyond seemed unquestionable. Let it happen. Let death take him, and let it move him on to the next plane.
The storm faded into blackness, and he remembered no more.
“Tiernach?”
A voice?
“Tiernach!”
His head hurt. That wasn’t supposed to happen after death, was it?
“Tiernach, come back. Come back now, lad...”
He opened his eyes. He was in bed, and his mentor sat beside him, an expression of deep concern on his face.
Licking dry lips, he fought to speak. “Where...?”
“The medical wing. You gave us a good scare. They say you’ll be fine in a few weeks.”
The young leonin smiled, though it made his face hurt. “I thought I was dead...” he admitted.
A shadow seemed to cross his mentor’s face for a moment. “You very nearly were. When they found you, your heart had stopped. A few more seconds and they might not have been able to...”
Tiernach didn’t hear the rest of the words.
Dead? He had died? Surely he had passed all definitions of the word, at least for a time. But... there had been nothing. He had always believed that the power of the mind continued after the death of the body, that something of the spirit would endure. Why had there been nothing? Why only darkness and silence? Why... Lanna?
“Where is Lanna?” he demanded, forcing himself to sit up, looking around. The other three beds in the room were empty.
“No...” he whispered, knowing the truth without even looking at his mentor’s face. “No...”
“No!” Tiernach shouted, throwing himself away from the amulet, his hands raised to ward off the gaze of that fearsome eye. He landed heavily upon the floor, scrabbling backwards until he could go no further.
“The evidence is now before you, Prince Tiernach,” the man said slowly, apparently not having moved. “You know what awaits you after death. You know that your existence will inevitably cease, and all your work will come to nothing. The power of the Eye could prevent that, if you so choose.”
“No,” Tiernach gasped, struggling to his feet. “Tyrandius was…”
“Misunderstood,” the man interrupted smoothly. “Our master was ever misunderstood. Evil, the people called Him. A dark mage, a black wizard, the list goes on. What He was in actuality, Prince Tiernach, was a genius. He alone unravelled the secrets of our mortal coil, He alone knows how to anchor His living essence to this world! He alone has stood the test of time. He alone,” the man approached and stood before Tiernach. “Can tell you what He knows. The question, Prince Tiernach, is will you help Him to help you?”
Tiernach shivered convulsively, darting a glance at the Eye as it lay within the chest, staring at him. Even as he did so, he could sense darkness closing about him, the dark emptiness that awaited the end of his life.
“What do you want with me?” he whispered hoarsely.
The man smiled.
“Welcome back, my Lord,” the leonin woman smiled charmingly as Tiernach entered his chambers. Standing by the window, she turned to look at him, brushing one ear back lightly as she spoke.
“What are you doing here?” Tiernach demanded, his eyebrows drawing together.
“I am part of the deal, my Lord. I believe it was explained to you that some of our brotherhood would be sent to work closely with you.”
“You don’t,” Tiernach said slowly. “Look like a brother to me.”
Katrina shrugged. “The term is a loose one. The important fact is that we serve the Eye, and the First.”
“First? Is that what you call him?”
“It is the title he prefers, a constant reminder that it was he who first came to the Eye. For now, at least, I am bound to do as he chooses.”
“You want the secret of immortality?”
“I want power. I know what the Eye will have demanded of you.”
“The empire of Tyrandius...” Tiernach said quietly.
“An empire that I intend to rank highly in. If I can do so for many millennia, so much the better, but I have no fear of death.” Tiernach raised his eyebrow. “I have given death freely,” Katrina continued. “As is the right of the strong. One day, it may be my destiny to receive death at the hands of one who is stronger. If that is the way of things, I cannot complain. It is my fate.”
“You believe in fate?”
“I do.”
“Do all of your ‘brotherhood’ feel the same?”
Katrina smiled. “Including yourself, only three people know of the true power of the Eye. The rest of those who serve know only that they can gain from it, that they will be rewarded with wealth and power in a future empire. I suggest,” she moved close in front of him, looking up into his face, her expression cold. “That you do not let them know anything beyond this.”
“Because they will want the secret of immortality?”
“Precisely. And because an immortal man would very soon become an ambitious man, and there isn’t enough room in this world for very many ambitious men. Let them go on as they do now. They will volunteer to serve the Eye in the belief that it will reward them.”
“Will it?”
“Possibly,” Katrina turned to look out of the window with a shrug. “They may be of some use, after all. But they are minor in comparison to you and I, my Lord. I can only guarantee our rewards, not theirs.”
“And what makes you so worthy of reward?” Tiernach asked shrewdly.
“I shall captain your troops, my Lord,” Katrina answered him. “You are an intelligent man, one with great power… but you have no military prowess.”
“And you do?”
“The Eye believes so, as does the First. That is enough.”
Tiernach walked up behind her, his lips close to her ear. “If you fail...”
“I will die,” she finished. “Whether by your hand or another’s is of little matter. Perhaps this is my fate. But if it is not... I will bring us glory and power beyond your imagination.”
“I can imagine a lot,” Tiernach hissed. He turned, and sat behind his desk. “I assume I have little choice?”
“I fear not, my Lord,” Katrina shook her head. “The First does not yet trust you, it would seem.”
“Then I suggest you enroll into the army.”
“I already have. I await your promotion order promptly.”
“I see...” Tiernach frowned.
“The papers are in your top drawer.”
Tiernach opened it, and discovered she was quite right. “General?” he raised an eyebrow.
“I need complete freedom and command of the troops. Anything less would be problematic,” Katrina moved to sit on the edge of his desk. “And we don’t need extra problems right now.”
“You seem to be anticipating the need to control my entire army.”
“I would be impressed if you know another way to fight a war. I know what you have seen, what you could bring to bear, but I don’t intend to rely upon it.”
“You know what your First showed me?”
“I know that they are most likely the strongest weapons available, and that you will use them fully, if you can,” Katrina answered. “What I don’t know is whether you can.”
“I can. In time. We will, of course, require a base of operations, but I think I can arrange that.”
“Yes?” Katrina raised an eyebrow.
“Yes. Chasmhold should suit our purposes.”
“But it’s been abandoned for centuries! Ever since the barbarians overran it in the last of the highland battles.”
“Precisely,” Tiernach touched his fingertips together and smiled. “I’m quite sure your brothers will be able to regain it for us. The barbarians do, after all, have a love of wealth, and the promise of such. I think we should hire them.”
“Hire the barbarians?” Katrina half laughed, then hesitated, her eyes narrowing. “You’re serious...”
“Quite,” Tiernach said dryly. “We are, I foresee, going to require.... for want of a better word, thugs. I see no reason not to use the resources available to us. Promise them wealth, promise them power, and if they don’t accept the promises, demonstrate both. And I cannot sign this order,” he tossed the sheaf of papers back towards her.
“Why?” she demanded, turning to face him, her hands thudding angrily into his desk.
“Because I cannot promote a private to a general. I can jump you two ranks, no more. You do not have the background to support a greater move. Beyond that, the law will not allow, and it will be questioned and investigated at the highest level. My father is quite dedicated to the preservation of the law, and does not hold even myself above it.”
Katrina swore. “What use is that?”
“I can advance you in stages. It will take time, but I can bring you to general, if you are patient, and if you show some aptitude for the task.”
“How long?”
“Six months, perhaps. If you perform your duties well enough.”
“So long?”
“It will take me at least that to make use of our new ‘weapons’. I suggest you accept the wait.”
“I have to report this,” she said angrily.
“Of course you do,” Tiernach told her placidly. “But if your people don’t want a full investigation to occur, and your involvement to be uncovered, I suggest they accept it. You waited long enough so far, I’m sure that much time will not hurt.”
“Damn you,” Katrina turned away. “You speak like this is all your plan.”
“As soon as your First made a deal with me, it became my plan,” Tiernach smiled thinly.
Katrina raised an eyebrow.
“You are an intriguing man, my Lord,” she said, looking at him with renewed respect. Was he really strong enough to assume control so quickly? “I look forward to working with you.”
Tiernach simply nodded.
