The Severed Empire Collection

Chapter 15

“The king moved his son into the chambers he shared with his queen. The two beds were side by side. At the window, the heavy red drapes remained closed at all times. Sunlight was dangerous to her and her child. It hurt their eyes and blistered their skin. It had nothing to do with the sun’s heat. It was as if the rays themselves were cursed.” Galatia walked around the table while she spoke. The others sat quietly, hanging on her every word. The rooster out back had crowed nearly an hour ago. Soon, sunlight would stream through the cabin’s eastern window. Birds chirped.

“A wizard journeyed across the Isthmian from the Osiris Realm, believing they could help the king using practiced healing magic to cure both queen and prince. Knights met the ship by the Delta Cove, to provide the young wizard a proper escort,” she said. “The king had chambers inside the castle for the wizard, but there wasn’t time for unpacking. Word spread quickly that the Grey Ashland curer was headless, as were two others who had traveled from other lands.”

“Why would the wizard risk their life? Weren’t they worried about the noose?” Karyn said.

Mykal looked over at Blodwyn. He knew his teacher was also listening intently, both weighing the truth, and as enthralled in the telling as Karyn.

Grandfather also went long periods of time without even blinking. He looked enchanted. There were a few moments where Mykal wanted to fetch a looking glass from his bedchamber and hold it under his grandfather’s nose making sure the old man was still breathing. Just before he acted on the impulse, though, Grandfather would blink.

Sunlight entered the room. The timing couldn’t have been better planned. The large, lone candle had finally burned out, its melted remains looking like the open rinds of peeled fruit. As the wax cooled and hardened it coated its iron stand in center of the table in a messy pattern resembling a starfish.

“That wizard believed they could actually help the king. This arrogance led only to death, and heartache. When the queen and the king’s son died a night after the wizard’s arrival, one would think the entire kingdom was under attack. Because the king would not accept the truth, that their illnesses were terminal, magic was blamed for the prince’s death. The king’s knights stormed into the bedchamber which housed the wizard and delivered them to the dungeon’s master deep below the keep.” Her lower lip quivered, her eyes lowered, and her steps around the table slowed.

Blodwyn set the staff between his legs, and held it with both hands. He pressed his chin against the wood. “If you don’t mind my saying,” he said, and without waiting for permission continued, “you know a lot about the trials of this young wizard. I understand how history is passed from generation to generation, and done so with compelling accuracy. Still, the amount of detail you’re sharing is profound.”

Mykal shared similar thoughts, but had been less inclined to speak them aloud.

Galatia never made eye contact with Blodwyn. “King Grandeer wanted me dead. Tortured first, then killed slowly. But, he was afraid that if he spent too much time making me suffer I’d use magic to free myself, and curse his kingdom. He didn’t want to listen to anything I said. He was beyond distraught. The death of his son snapped the already-frayed remnants of his sanity. This was compounded by the physical toll long days and nights sleepless with worry for his family. No matter what I said, all he desired was my torment and eventual death.”

“How did you escape?” It was Grandfather who spoke. His palms flat on the table, his knuckles white. “If the king wanted you dead, and he had you in the dungeons, you must have used some powerful magic to escape.”

Mykal thought Grandfather’s tone was accusatory. The law made the use, and even the study of magic, illegal. Although, this was prior to the laws against sorcery had been set in place. Grandfather followed the letter of the law, whether he agreed or not. He always said it wasn’t his place to question decisions made by his king. It was the difference between being a loyal subject, and a rebel.

Though Mykal knew that Grandfather had suffered loss, he somehow held it together and pushed forward, never looking back or dwelling on past travesties.

Mykal had never known his grandmother. She’d died before his birth. He knew from stories that she’d been a strong, fearless woman. A cut on her leg left unattended became infected. A red line traced its way up her thigh, across her belly, and stopped at her heart. Grandfather didn’t know about the infection until it was too late.

“I didn’t use magic to escape the dungeons,” Galatia said.

Mykal watched as she stopped by the counter where the bucket for cleaning dirty dishes sat. She stood with her back to everyone. Her hands gripped the counter while she looked through the window.

The window faced the east. Through the glass was the corral where the horses were kept. To the side was the biggest of three barns. On the right were two smaller barns, and a chicken coop. The pastures stretched further back, behind the corral and barns. The sun rising in the east let rays play over the farm. The view always calmed Mykal.

Mykal thought magic was the sun revolving around the old empire. He often wondered if the sun lost some of its power passing under the known lands, and regained whatever had been lost as it climbed up and across the sky before dropping again in the west. “If you didn’t use magic…” Mykal said.

“I lied,” Galatia said. “It’s not something I’m proud of having done. I told him I now knew what was wrong. I was sorry about his son, but was confident I could save the queen. I couldn’t, of course. He didn’t know that. Like I’ve said all along, he was not a rational man. He was broken. There were so many shattered pieces, I knew he’d never mend. I played him, used his emotions and his lack of reason against him. He was desperate to latch onto any scrap of hope. There were no other options available to him, not any longer. It pained me to use his love for the queen against him, but what other choice did I have? Lying was the only avenue left open to me. That, and it was better than the alternative.”

“The alternative?” Blodwyn said.

“Using magic, of course.”

Karyn shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

Galatia turned around and leaned her backside against the counter, tears in her eyes. This two-hundred-year-old story hadn’t gotten any easier for her to relate, if she’d ever done so before. There was a saying: time heals all wounds. Seeing her tears, Mykal had little confidence in the old adage. It didn’t seem true at all – certainly not in this instance. Two hundred years had passed, after all.

“In Grey Ashland there were dozens of magicians—those who practice a specific, learned skill, always trying to perfect it, but no more than a dozen full wizards, or thereabouts,” Galatia said. “It is rare, but true wizards are born. They are almost always the result of a union in which at least one parent is a true wizard. I say almost, because more often than not children born within such a union, the child was powerless when it came to sorcery. Although uncommon, once in a while it does happen.”

“Am I a magician?” Karyn said.

“I’m not sure what you are yet, dear,” Galatia said. “You seem an oddity. I don’t mean that as an insult. You don’t practice seeing. It just comes to you. It makes me believe you are not a magician. You are not a wizard; that I know with certainty. Only three wizards have been born the last thirty and seven years, at least here in the old empire.”

“I don’t understand how you can be the age you state and yet, appear so youthful still? If I am a wizard like you claim, will I age?” Mykal looked at the backs of his hands, as if seeking the answer on sun-tanned skin.

Galatia smiled. “We are not immortal. Time catches up with us, eventually. You will begin to notice the difference when you cross into your twenties. Others will look, feel, and age normally. The clock inside you will seemed to have stopped. You will age. It simply will not happen as quickly.”

will “You don’t know how many wizards there were?” Blodwyn arched an eyebrow, as if seriously doubting the vague figure.

“There were twelve,” Galatia said. “Including me. Just twelve.”

“But you said you came to Grey Ashland,” Karyn said.

to “There may be more in other lands, beyond Rye’s Empire, in fact there has to be. There could be hundreds. I didn’t know anyone beyond. There were only twelve across this empire, when there had been an empire,” she said. “When king Gandeer’s son died, and the king wanted me put to death, I realized what damage I had done. I was afraid, but when I say that, I don’t mean just for my own safety. I knew that I’d brought the king’s wrath down on all wizards.”

this“Were you able to save the queen?” Mykal said.

“She never tried,” Blodwyn said, getting to his feet. He tapped his finger against his chin, thinking something through. “Once the king accepted the claim she could save the queen, he told the dungeon guards to bring her back up to his bedchamber.”

“I escaped their clutches. It hadn’t been easy. The king was looking for me. He had knights at the gates, and patrolling the kingdom. I used an enchantment to cloak my appearance. It was a powerful spell because it affected anyone who looked on me. Weak from casting such a spell, I managed to sneak out of the keep and made my way back to the cove where my ship was docked. The king launched his crusade against all magicians and wizards immediately after the queen’s passing. There were no trials. Known magicians were executed on sight. Terror ensnared the entire empire. Anyone accused of magic was murdered. People grew paranoid. It became an easy way for some to settle disputes or eliminate rivals. They simply needed to point a finger. Hundreds perished during the crusade. Innocent people.” Galatia made no attempt to hide her tears. They streamed down her face; dripped from the sides of her chin. “I cursed the wizards in my pride. Never had I imagined the devastation that I, and I alone, brought down on the empire.”

Galatian ran the back of her hand under nose, and sniffled.

Mykal found a clean cloth and offered it.

Karyn said, “Did the king’s crusade have something to do with the collapse of Henry Rye?”

Mykal recognized the emperor’s name. He knew little about him, though. It had been almost two centuries since the lands were united under the emperor.

“It did. And it is also why I am here, why I’ve now returned,” Galatia said. “I have spent far too long talking. We need to start moving, Mykal. It is important that you come with me.”

Blodwyn shook his head. “You have spent a lot of time talking. The history lesson has been fascinating, simply fascinating. What you have failed to do, Ms. Galatia, is provide a single answer to any of our pressing questions.”

have Galatia glared at Mykal’s teacher. “I’ve been open and honest. I have shared with you a story that I’ve only shared with the other wizards.”

“Where are they now?” Blodwyn asked. “The other wizards?”

“Dead. All but three, as I have related,” she said.

“And the ones that are not dead?” Blodwyn sighed. “We get it. You’re uncomfortable disclosing too many facts. Or are unable to reveal the whole truth. But if every question asked is answered with misleading, or incomplete, or plain mysterious answers, we’re done. We are not here to play games. It is you who came to us for help. Not the other way around.”

“I came to him for help.” Galatia pointed at Mykal.

Blodwyn threw his hands in the air.

Galatia ignored the theatrics. “Mykal, please pack some things. You don’t want to see bad things happen to Grey Ashland. How will you be able to live with yourself knowing you could have done something to save so many innocent lives, but chose to do nothing instead? If you do not help me, destruction is all you will be able to count on. You’re a good man, Mykal. I know this. I need you to do the right thing.”

“Ridiculous!” Blodwyn jumped to his feet and pounded the base of his staff on the cabin’s planks. It made a sharp c***k like the lash of whip snapping in air. “This family has been kind to you, stranger. They’ve brought you into their home for days, fed you, clothed you, and you insult them with guilt? Nothing you’ve said has been proven. You provide nothing specific other than the need to venture out on some mysterious journey to save the world. Mykal has family, and responsibility here. This is his home.”

strangerGalatia’s left arm shot out toward Blodwyn. He flew backwards and smashed into the wall. Plaster cracked, and crumbled from the impact. He collapsed to the floor.