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Twenty-Eight

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“It’s so good to see you in person finally,” the man said politely. “My name is Falgorin, although I’m known as the Commander around here.” He sat down in the ornately carved wooden chair on the other side of the desk and rested his elbows on the surface, lacing his fingers together. “I’m sure you have questions.”

Dusk realized that his mouth was hanging open. He snapped it shut, but couldn’t wipe the look of surprise off his face. How was it possible that a man reduced to ash in front of his own eyes was sitting only a few feet in front of him? Who had he seen in Kinallin? There were a thousand questions in his mind, but he dared not speak any of them just yet. It was clear there was more going on than he knew. He wanted answers, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the truth.

“Quiet aren’t you? I suppose I can begin.” He sat back in his chair, resting against the leather upholstered arms. “I’m sure you’re wondering how I’m still alive?” He waited for an answer.

Dusk nodded almost imperceptibly.

“The man you destroyed in Kinallin was merely a puppet of myself, given to me by the Grandmaster of the Circle,” Falgorin explained, waving a hand through the air. “He was a very special gift and extremely hard to recreate. The resources required to make him were rare and expensive. I consider myself lucky to have been blessed with such a gift. Alas, I confess I didn’t get to test the full extent of his capabilities before you managed to reduce him to a pile of ash. Although he was quite useful either way. I certainly wouldn’t wish to take his place.”

Dusk was confused and it must have shown on his face because Falgorin looked at him, savoring it for a moment, and then continued.

“Before he became my puppet he was one of the Circle who willingly sacrificed himself to the cause. After we removed his spirit, adjusted his visage, and linked our minds together, it was almost life having another one of myself at my disposal.” He smiled at the thought. “I made him go on my more dangerous exploits, while I managed my own affairs from here.” He sat up and looked at Dusk, still smiling. “And good thing too! You nearly took him out on the bridge with those idiot bandits. He and I both followed you from there, taking the long trek around the gorge. By then I already guessed where you were from with the information Brand freely gave. It wasn’t hard to figure out which direction you were heading. All runaways take the same route. Instead of trying to catch you I had him lay in wait in Kinallin until I was sure you were there. But,” he gestured to the crystal on Dusk’s chest that was peeking over his loose shirt, “I never expected that.”

Dusk glanced down, looking at the cold aquamarine crystal that was still stuck to his sternum.

“Tephyss’s Eye is quite a find. It’s a power the world hasn’t seen in centuries and it’s almost inexhaustible since it usually kills its owner after a while.” He paused, watching Dusk’s face shift from curiosity to worry. “It was said that the dragons and Nozzera destroyed it in the great battle for the Crystal Moon, but here it is. Safe and sound with a new owner.” He pushed himself away from the desk and came to his feet, palms resting on the desk as he shook his head. “But why it’s allowing you, of all people, to tap into its power is more than even I can understand. Not that you’ll be able to use it anymore, I didn’t make that mistake twice.”

Dusk shifted uncomfortably, the metal collar digging into his neck.

“Exactly,” Falgorin replied. “That collar is one of my own designs. I’ve effectively cut off the eye from reaching your mind, making you unable to use it. Or, well, for it to use you.” He walked around the desk and behind Dusk. “That kind of power in your hands is just dangerous. I’m afraid it would be quite irresponsible of me to allow you to traipse about the empire like a child who’s found his father’s sword. Not that you’d understand that turn of phrase. You probably didn’t have parents being an urchin on the streets of Eblesal. To think, the person who would discover such a treasure lived in the royal city the whole time.” Falgorin leaned from behind into Dusk’s ear, a thin gray hand resting on his shoulder. “And you found a dragon at the same time. I almost feel bad that you’ll have to die. You’ve been so useful to us.”

“Get away from him you dried up piece of shit!” Lex suddenly snarled, hearing the last comment.

“And you,” Falgorin walked over to him with a sneer. “I know exactly who you are. You look just like your father and you have his arrogance too.” Lex’s face fell, a look of worry painted on his features. Before he had a chance to retort, Falgorin reeled back and punched him in the gut, throwing him to the floor. “Keep your mouth shut,” Falgorin spat. “My orders are to deliver you whole, but the grandmaster said nothing about being unharmed.”

Falgorin aimed a kick at Lex’s ribs causing him to cry out in pain as the foot connected with his torso. Adjusting his robes the Commander walked back around the desk and sat down once more. He seemed annoyed by Lex’s outburst, more so than he should have been. Dusk could see Lex still curled up on the floor, coughing and gasping for breath. He looked beyond to Tara who was still lying motionless on the floor, her face resting on the stone and her arms spread wide. Dusk thought he saw one of her fingers twitch.

“I’m sure you’re wondering how I managed to almost kill you in Kinallin?” Falgorin asked, causing Dusk to turn his attention back to him. “Aren’t you curious why I can bend the elements to my will when such a power hasn’t been seen in over a thousand years?”

Dusk wanted to keep him talking. The longer he talked, the longer they were alive.

“Yes sir.”

“I’m glad to see you know how to speak politely. Maxon is well renowned for his ability to break people at the Ronja salt mine.”

Falgorin leaned back in his chair and took a small black leather pouch off his belt. He opened it carefully and dipped in a single finger, which came back covered in a silvery powder.

“This,” he said rubbing it between his fingers, “is the powdered remains of a crystallized dragon. The last known way to access magic on the planet. I’m sure you noticed the excavation at the bottom of the cavern? That was the second skeleton the Circle of the Dawn has uncovered in the past three centuries. Needless to say, this powder is exceptionally rare and requires many men to create a very small amount. However,” he quickly drew a few shapes on the desk in front of him, the powder leaving a silver trail across its surface. Suddenly it glowed brightly and a book materialized on the desk. “It’s not enough that you have the powder, you also need to know how to use it.”

Falgorin flipped open the small book and turned it around. Dusk peered over the desk at its pages, but it was nothing but a complex series of shapes, markings, and drawings. Even if he had known how to read, he doubted this would have made much sense.

“Almost all of the books like these were destroyed centuries ago when magic disappeared from the world. But, a few intelligent people hoarded them away, waiting for the day when magic would finally return. And it won’t be long now.” He shut the book and placed it in a drawer of the desk. “The Circle of the Dawn’s goal is just that, to bring around the second dawning of magic to this world and bring an end to this dark era. But,” he held up a finger, “not to everyone. The empire of Ditania has been most useful in aiding our endeavors and therefore, we have reserved the right of magic to ourselves and a few of the royal family. After all,” he lifted his eyes to gaze at Dusk, “there are people out there who don’t deserve this kind of power. We only want to see magic in the hands of the most educated and deserving of people, not the common rabble. Some people are more fit to wield it than others. The natural order must be maintained.

“And you,” he shook his head. “You of all people gave us the key to finally bring about the dawning of a new age. You have no idea what you’ve discovered.”

“Don’t tell him too much Falgorin!” a sing-song tenor echoed through the chamber, cutting Falgorin off. “He may be a slave, but he still has Tephyss’s Eye. We don’t know what he’s capable of or who might be listening. Your dog collar works for now, but we don’t know the Eye’s full capabilities.”

Falgorin’s head snapped towards the far wall. Dusk followed his gaze, his eyes falling upon the ornate ten foot tall mirror framed in gilded scroll work. It was one solid piece of glass twice as wide as a man. The backing was tarnished, giving the reflection a smoky gray quality. To Dusk’s surprise there was the reflection of a man standing in the mirror looking out at them, but there was nobody in front of it. He had pale copper skin and shaggy unkempt dark hair. On his face he wore a jovial smile and his eyes shone brightly. He was easily ten years younger than Falgorin.

“Grandmaster!” Falgorin called out, rushing to the mirror and kneeling in front of it. “I’m sorry master, I didn’t see you had arrived.”

“Oh no matter!” the young man sang back as he swung his hands back and forth playfully. “I was just listening to your excellent retelling of our mission statement for the Circle of the Dawn. You did quite a good job, I commend you. If I need anyone to help me write up a pamphlet, I shall call upon you.”

“Thank you master?”

“Could have left out all the detailed information about how we make our special poof powders though. That should be just between the members of the Circle and maybe a few stray cats if you can get one to sit still long enough.”

“Yes master, but,” Falgorin hesitated for a moment, “I wish you wouldn't call it that.”

“That’s what you just did!” the man laughed, pointing to the desk. “You made one of our most important and secret books just POOF out of nowhere. It was quite entertaining.”

“Yes master.”

“Well, I can see you’ve captured the slave we’ve been on the hunt for and his companions,” he waved cheerfully to Dusk. “Please bring them to Alamond. Alexander will be sent back to his darling family from there and I’ll play with our new friend. We have lots to discuss and test.”

“Of course master,” Falgorin lifted his head. “How is the sanctuary progressing?”

“Well the goblins are gone, thank the gods!” He always seemed to be laughing. “They are such smelly little creatures! I’m afraid we used the last of the local bandits to clear them out, but you know what they say! Kill two bushes with one bird!”

“Yes master?” Falgorin answered. It sounded like more of a question than a statement to Dusk.

As the man in the mirror continued to laugh about his own joke, Dusk couldn’t help but be confused. There they all were talking about life, death, and changing the world, but the grandmaster seemed completely insane. How did a man like that become the leader of some sort of cult? He hardly seemed cut out to be a lackey, much less the leader. Dusk wondered if it all might be an act, that the man was more dangerous than he was letting on. Something didn’t seem right, but Dusk wasn’t sure what it was yet.

Movement to the left of the mirror caught his attention. Without turning his head Dusk looked to the side of the room to see Tara leaning against the wall, obscured in shadow. She reached down and pulled a small dagger out of her boot. Slowly she began to sneak along the stone blocks, keeping silent with every step. He looked back to the desk, noticing the small pouch of powder was still sitting there. As far as he knew, Falgorin was completely unarmed. Staring at the mirror, he continued to flick his eyes back and forth while Tara drew ever closer without a sound.

“We will be leaving within the day master,” Falgorin continued after the laughing had stopped. “Preparations are almost complete and we have a new shipment of powder for the Circle.”

“Wonderful to hear!” The grandmaster suddenly stopped, looking over the top of Falgorin’s head directly at Tara who had stepped into view. “Well Falgorin, I must say you have been most useful, but I’m afraid I no longer require your services.”

“What?!” Falgorin seemed suddenly alarmed. He stared up at the grandmaster’s face, trying to catch his eye. “What do you mean? Haven’t I done everything you asked of me?”

“Oh to be sure, you have done everything I’ve asked.” The grandmaster turned his face downwards and a wicked grin spread across his face. “But as to the quality of your work, I can attest that you need some improvement. It seems there are others more fit for the job than you.” He looked up to Tara, “When you’re ready my dear.”

Just as Falgorin turned to look, finally realizing what was going on, Tara rushed forward and threw him to the ground. She threw herself on top of him, cupping her hand over his mouth to silence his cries as she fell to her knees, pinning his arms to the ground. As she landed Dusk heard the telltale crunch of bone snapping under her weight in at least one of his forearms. He cried out under her hand as he struggled. In a flash she placed the small dagger on his throat with her other hand.

“Captain Tara Tordovic, yes?” the man in the mirror asked politely. “You certainly do live up to your nickname. I see why they call you Shadow Wolf don’t they? Ferocious, silent, deadly. You definitely don’t disappoint.”

Tara didn’t pull her gaze away from Falgorin. She glared down at him, baring her teeth like an animal. For a moment she stayed there as if admiring her own skill. Almost like she enjoyed it, Dusk thought. Slowly she pulled the blade back and Dusk watched as a look of relief crossed over Falgorin’s face.

“Please do go on. I’m most anxious to see how you do it.”

Without acknowledging the grandmaster’s comment, Tara brought the tip of the blade down and pressed it against the bottom of Falgorin’s jaw. Slowly she pressed the blade in. As it broke the skin, Falgorin’s muffled screams could be heard through her hand. Blood welled up and ran down his skin, staining his neatly manicured beard red. Tara breathed heavily as she continued to push until the blade was easily halfway in. From between her fingers more blood came out of the man’s mouth as he tried to yell. Soon it turned to gurgles as the liquid filled his mouth and throat. Dusk knew the blade must have gone through his tongue. Tara glanced up at the mirror at last and saw the maniacal smile that beamed back at her. She looked back down at the man drowning in his own blood beneath her. There was a sickening crunch of bone as she gave the dagger a final, sharp jab upward and Falgorin went silent forever.

“Beautifully executed my dear, if you don’t mind the pun,” the grandmaster chuckled. He watched as Tara cleaned her blade on Falgorin’s robes and tucked it back in her boot. “I’ve heard so much about you. I even heard about why you decided to defect from the Royal Guard in the middle of the night.”

Tara snapped her head up to look in the mirror. “You don’t know anything about me,” she spat.

“On the contrary,” he chuckled. “I think I know almost all of it. A poor girl raised in the city of Malkekna and sent to live with her uncle in Eblesal at the tender age of fourteen after her parents mysteriously died on the trade route to Ronja. Your uncle was a squad leader in the city guard, but you were more ambitious than him, weren’t you? You wanted more. And,” he laughed ominously, “you have a better constitution for violence. It’s no wonder you ended up a captain in the Royal Guard. Too bad you let your ward die.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Tara screamed at the mirror, getting within an inch of its surface. She pounded her fist against the glass. “You don’t know a damn thing!”

“Again, my dearest, I know everything. But,” his voice took on a less sinister tone. “I’ll make you a deal. Bring these two back to Alamond for me and I’ll bring your ward back to life.”

“W–what?”

“It’s quite simple actually. She’s only been dead a month, maybe less. I don’t keep count.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “It won’t be too difficult to heal her body and call her spirit back from the other side.”

“Why doesn’t the king ask you for that?”

“Simple. He doesn’t know I can.” The grandmaster held up a finger and tapped it against his temple. “Can’t ask for what you don’t think of.”

Tara remained silent. It was clear to Dusk that what he was offering was precious. He found himself untrusting of the man in the mirror, but he didn’t doubt he was good on his word. He radiated a strange confidence, like a court jester who knows too much about the people he is entertaining. He seemed ridiculous, immature, and downright dangerous. Dusk couldn't imagine how a man such as him had come to be in such a place of power.

“Well, what do you say, Captain? Would you like to reverse your egregious error? Maybe she’ll even forgive you for being so... careless.”

Tara cried out as if she had been struck by a killing blow, smashing her fist against the mirror. Cracks radiated from her fist as the glass spider-webbed into a series of shards. She breathed heavily, her forehead resting against the glass. The grandmaster still stood in the mirror, his wicked smile unchanging, clearly enjoying the pain he was inflicting.

“Well,” he leaned forward, “if you change your mind. My offer still stands. Also, I heard a rumor that the Inahandrian army is already on the march. I’d be quick if I were you. If you can even make it out. Goodbye lovelies.”

He took a step back and waved his hand gently through the air, a trail of silver light following behind it. With a snap of his fingers the mirror shattered into a million pieces, rocketing across the room. Dusk turned his back to the glass, feeling the shards hit him, more than a few slicing through his clothes and cutting his flesh. The room was filled with the sound of glass shattering against the hard stone floor. As it settled Dusk looked back to Tara who was covered in hundreds of cuts and bleeding from every inch of exposed skin on her body. She rushed over leaving a trail of wet footprints from the pool of blood that had formed around Falgorin. Quickly she untied Dusk’s hands without a word, but just as she turned to move towards Lex who was still curled up on the carpet, the latch lifted and the door swung inward.