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Fire fought flame, and flame blazed across the heavens. The torrential downpour filled the sea and the waves sought to subdue the endless battle. Tonight was the end of all wrath and injustices that had been swelling like a tsunami against the island of Taikus. Tonight, the keen wit of the Wizards parried the evil thrust of the Sorceresses. Magic against devilry stormed the isle and not one inhabitant escaped its terror, for all were armed in each of their powers, and all powers collided against their opposites. The explosion was fierce, but in the end, wisdom prevailed. In the end, defeat came more in spirit than in suffering.
That is until the war was over.
For if the treaty had been signed, the House of Wizardry’s wisdom would have granted amnesty to the women, seeking only submission from the rebels, obedience from their children. Their powers would have been suspended as a punishment, but also as a rein, for too long had their malcontent spread as gossip across the land. Their life had not been as horrid as they presumed, from a Wizard’s point of view. If the treaty had been signed, they would have continued a normal and pleasant life on the island of Taikus, free to buy and sell, to roam the lush countryside, and to have children. The meadows would have grown green again; the woods tall and stately, and peace with their neighbors across the waters would have been maintained. Their only concession would have been a back seat in politics.
But the Sect of Sorcery, led by the wicked Hacatine, held its corporate tongue until the entire congregation of officers waited in the marble halls of Telamande to add their signatures. When she was handed the pen, Hacatine held her hand high and, with a loud cry, gave the signal. A windstorm of arrows filled the room and found their resting place in the heart of every man-warrior there, slaughtering them mercilessly.
The house was in turmoil. People rushed toward the fallen, weeping. Voices roared in both protest and exaltation as confusion prevailed.
Elegant, slender, and clothed in black silk, hair like threads of silver falling gracefully past her waist, Hacatine approached the golden platform, her hand raised in victory as though the silence that followed crowned her queen.
“Wizards take note.” She wore a twisted smile on her face as she scanned the audience. People huddled over the dead warriors and waved their fists at her. Shouts of profanities and hatred rang loud, but her army, robust women clad in leather armor, mingled amongst the crowd, their bows drawn, daggers and swords on their belts and strapped to their boots, ready to strike.
“You’ve kept the island of Taikus captive too long,” Hacatine shouted with a laugh, but her continence turned grave. “Faithless you’ve become. The seas and the power of the West could have been at our command, but you’ve been lazy and complacent. Like babies. You call yourselves mighty, but you’ve refused to fight the Winds of that world, making concessions, and allowing the voices of its strength to pacify your minds. What is that magic to us that it should take precedence over your wives and your children? The Sect of Sorcery, the armed women of Taikus, demand retribution for your treason. Today you, oh great and powerful Wizards—” She let the disdain in her voice resonate against the marble walls before she continued. “Today you are defeated by your own flesh. The Sect will rise in power. We will sail to the West and rule tyranny over humanity with an iron fist.”
The women archers raised their bows in response and shouted in triumph.
“Taikus, take note. You have a new ruler, one who seeks your prosperity.” She led the rumble of cheers, though it was unclear if there were other supporters besides her army.
“Because the Sect has now been declared victorious, I decree that every male that lives in Taikus possessing the corrupt and treasonous powers of wizardry will be executed, and every male child will immediately this day be made a slave until his magic is stripped away.”
