Xexial stared at Khyriaxx impassively as he finished relaying the journal’s chapter. The sun was burning the last rays of light into the slotted windows of the library. It cast the entire chamber in a blazing orange hue. The spriggan in front of Xexial poured over his own paperwork as he took notes from everything that Xexial told him. When the Xexial was done recounting the chapter for the umpteenth time, the small creature reached up and removed the monocle from his eye.
He said excitedly, “Incredible. I never be thinking I be hearing a tale of something so ancient. I greatly desire to read the whole thing sometime soon.”
Xexial nodded in agreement. “Indeed. But I am afraid that will never be.” Xexial looked down at his naked hands once more. He returned the journal to its warded alcove and the gauntlet to the hand of Rheynnaus where it resumed the texture and appearance of marble.
Xexial could see the indignation in the eyes of Khyriaxx, but before he could defend why he had not brought the ancient parcel out of the tombs the spriggan continued, “I see. Then it appears you be correct all along. Ashyn Rune is indeed not a human, or a half-elf. His tendencies and mannerisms be following the same pattern as what is in both the journal you found, and the one by Patrius Monerch. He must be a Craetorian, or at least be something very similar. Perhaps he be distant descendant. There be too many ironies.”
“And we now know that the Craetorians did not all perish with Magelord Craëgolshien, but continued on, at least in some secrecy, as the Enclave’s Craetorian Purges indicate,” the old wizard pointed out. “Plus, it is entirely possible at least one bloodline lived on. All it would take is for them continue having offspring with a human. Something that could be easily done since they appear human enough.”
“This is a knowledge the Ferhym be knowing for a long time then. That Craetorians existed when others have thought them extinct,” the tinkerer commented.
“They are one step ahead of us it seems,” Xexial grumbled.
“I say this be good news. There may be more of them now. More Craetorians.”
“I can confirm at least one more, Ashyn’s sister, Julietta.”
Khyriaxx steepled his small three fingered hands together and spoke so quietly that Xexial could barely hear it, “Yes. At least two. They must be powerful indeed. Very powerful.”
Xexial looked at the spriggan with curiosity. It was the first time he ever made a comment regarding the nature of someone’s power. “Ashyn is not powerful enough to avoid injury. The boy lost his connection to magic just like any other Creationist that takes it too far.”
Khyriaxx nodded recouping from his previous statement. “You be right. He be mortal after all, and susceptible to everything we be. I just find the act of siphoning and storing to be very intriguing.”
Xexial could definitely see where a tinkerer would like that concept. Especially in someone living that wasn’t an armor-plated beast that could swallow him in a single bite. Xexial thought back to waking up in the spriggan’s small home and witnessing all the strange contraptions Khyriaxx worked on. How he used the power of wind to fuel many of his contraptions. Yes, the wizard could definitely see it now, a living breathing man that could store an eldritch energy that the spriggan could barely begin the fathom. The questions Khyriaxx must have.
“His power is irrelevant for now. What we must figure out is how to find him.”
The spriggan’s eyebrows raised. “Oh? And have you figured out what you are going to do when you do find the boy?”
There was a sudden loud click in the circular library as the locking mechanism on the double doors turned to open. The doors swung wide, and Xexial looked away from Khyriaxx in alarm. None of his wards triggered an entrant. He should have known if someone else was in the tower with them! Instead he was caught by surprise as the familiar piercing, deep emerald eyes leered at him from just outside the chamber.
“The wizard is going to kill him of course,” Gavius Grind answered in Xexial’s stead.
The senior wizard was speechless. Not so much out of surprise, but more from anger and quite a bit of concern. The Maba-Heth purposely avoided Xexial’s wards, again, even knowing that he was cleared to pass through them all. It bothered Xexial to know how capable Grind was at circumventing his own protection system. Enough to eavesdrop on the duo at least. Worse it made Xexial realize that he wouldn’t be safe from the wizard hunter in his own home, even while he slept.
On top of that, he was angry that this young wizard had the audacity to speak for him, as if Xexial answered to Grind. Then the unsettling truth sank in. He did answer to Grind. The scales wizard hunter was acting on behest of the Seven, and therefore Xexial was bound to serve the reptile to the best of his capacity.
“Of course,” Xexial replied through gritted teeth. “Have you learned anything from Tilliatemma that may aid us?” he added, trying to deflect some of his surprise away, as if he knew Grind had been in the tower all along.
The sharp-toothed grin from the scales immediately told Xexial that ploy failed. “Nothing of notable relevance to the Recreant. However, it was surprising to see that the Dakhym have undergone a change in government.”
Xexial perked up at this. “The Singh Imperium?”
“This helps us how?” Khyriaxx interrupted. “I thought you be here to hunt a Recreant, not discuss the politics of other nations.”
Xexial watched the scales’ frill flush a golden hue in anger. “Khyriaxx is right,” Xexial intervened before the Maba-Heth lost his patience. “Politics are not for a wizard. We should be focused on Ashyn and his whereabouts.”
The slit eyes of the wizard hunter fell back to Xexial. He could still read the menace in them. Grind never agreed with the spriggan’s presence, never thought it necessary. Had Xexial been asked the same question six months prior he would have been much like the Maba-Heth in his assessment of the tinkerer. Now though, things changed. Xexial needed the squat little creature. It was as if Khyriaxx had become a confidant for Xexial’s own conscience.
Xexial held his icy gaze on the Maba-Heth, his conviction set. Finally, the scales looked away. “Agreed.”
“Good. So then, if nothing was learned from Tilliatemma pertaining to Ashyn, what is your next step?” the elder wizard pushed.
Xexial watched as the scales paced quietly around the circular room. Though his reptilian features were indistinguishable in determining his emotion, the frill on the back of his head told a different tale. It shifted between a golden hue and a burnt orange, and Xexial knew that Grind was deeply conflicted. The old wizard assumed the Maba-Heth wanted to head west into the deserts of Malten, or south east into the realms of the Gnomes, but deep down he felt that Grind knew he was right. Grind knew they needed to go into the Shalis-Fey.
“There are many paths still available to us. But, after all this time, and without his blood, the recreant could be virtually anywhere. You seem determined that we head south, and now that choice is just as good as any, I will agree. We hunt your way.”
“About damn time,” Xexial said firmly. He looked away from the angry wizard hunter and down to Khyriaxx. “Gather our things. We leave at first light tomorrow. It’s time to pay a visit to the Ferhym and find out where my wayward apprentice has gone.”
Khyriaxx nodded and quickly hopped off the chair. “Don’t forget to stop by my house first. I still think there be items that will help.”
Xexial nodded and Khyriaxx promptly left the room. Xexial knew he owed the creature some sort of apology for the way that he acted before, but he wasn’t sure exactly what he should say. He was torn in his loyalties to both the Seven and to Ashyn. Finding out what Ashyn was helped answer to him some desperately needed questions, but it still didn’t give him the cognizance on choosing a correct path to take. The boy or his service?
He didn’t even bother to look at the scales. “Get a good night’s rest, Maba-Heth. Tomorrow we will be at war with the Ferhym. Have no doubt they will know it the moment we set foot in those woods, and they will be relentless.”
The caiman-like wizard folded his scaled arms over his black robes. “And you still think the Recreant is in there? After all this time?”
“There’s only one way to find out.”