The Warlock's Curse (The Syrane Chronicles Book 4), page 15
Duncan’s mind raced. Was it truly a rat, a manifestation of the periphery’s eerie landscape, or was it another sinister trick? The line between reality and illusion blurred in this nightmarish realm, leaving him in a state of perpetual unease.
As the clawed hand reached menacingly toward Duncan, a gut-wrenching sense of impending doom enveloped him. The oppressive atmosphere in the periphery seemed to reach its peak.
But just as the bony, outstretched fingers of the nightmarish apparition were about to make contact, the creature blinked out of existence as if it had never been there at all.
Duncan was left standing alone in the eerie stillness of the periphery in his bathrobe, his heart pounding in his chest, the green glow of the sword inexplicably restored.
###
High Mage Jade sat alone in her private study within the Mage’s Tower, surrounded by shelves filled with ancient grimoires and mystical artifacts. Her nimble fingers traced the lines of an illuminated manuscript as she delved into her research, her mind fully immersed.
Suddenly, a disturbance, imperceptible to most, sent a jolt through her being. Her eyes widened, and she dropped the manuscript onto the ornate desk before her. Something momentous had transpired, and her finely attuned senses could not ignore it.
A deep sense of dread unfurled within her, like a sinister cloak wrapping around her very soul. It was not just a ripple in the currents of magic; it was a disruption in the very fabric of reality itself.
Jade rose from her chair, her robes rustling softly as she paced the room. Her years of dedication to the study and mastery of magic had made her hypersensitive to even the subtlest shifts in the magical currents that intertwined with the world.
Whatever had caused this disturbance was of unfathomable magnitude.
Margaret rushed into the study with an urgent look in her eyes. She barely had time to catch her breath before speaking.
“You felt it too?” Margaret asked. The magical disturbance that had sent shockwaves through the very fabric of reality had not gone unnoticed by her either.
Jade nodded gravely, her expression mirroring the concern in Margaret’s eyes.
“Yes, I felt it,” she confirmed. “It’s so similar to the time when … I miscast that spell… all those years ago.”
The two mages exchanged a knowing glance, their shared understanding of the significance of the disturbance unspoken but deeply felt. Margaret’s presence was a welcome one in this moment of uncertainty.
“But this time, there are subtle differences, aren’t there? It’s not just a simple tear in the fabric of reality. It feels … more deliberate,” Jade said. Margaret pondered this observation.
“You’re right,” she said.
“That’s what troubles me the most,” replied Jade. “When I summoned Duncan, it was an unintended consequence of my mistake. But this … this feels like a calculated disruption, as if someone or something intentionally caused it.”
The implications of this realisation hung heavy in the air. If someone had the power and knowledge to disrupt the magical fabric deliberately, to interrupt the current and flow in such a way, it raised questions about their motives and capabilities.
Margaret’s eyes narrowed.
“We need to investigate this,” she said. Jade nodded. Investigating the mysterious disturbance required a careful and coordinated effort. Jade spoke again, this time with urgency.
“We’ll need to consult with Richard Hardstaff, the Court Mage. He has extensive knowledge and resources, and this matter may concern the safety of the kingdom.” She paced as she spoke. “We’ll approach him discreetly, explaining the situation without revealing the full extent of our concerns. Once he’s on board, we can collectively determine the best course of action.”
“Should we ask the temples? The High Priest of Khor?” Margaret asked.
Margaret’s suggestion gave Jade pause for thought. The temple of Khor was a powerful institution in the kingdom. Their direction could be invaluable, especially if this disturbance had any connection to forces beyond the mortal realm. After a moment of contemplation, Jade replied.
“Yes, Margaret, it might be wise to consult with the priests of Khor. They possess knowledge of matters that concern life and death, and this disturbance could indeed involve otherworldly forces.” Margaret nodded.
“Their insights into the supernatural may shed light on this disturbance and whether it poses any threat to our realm. It’s always better to be prepared.”
“Do you think…” Jade said, then bit her lip.
“What do you mean?” Margaret’s face creased into a frown.
“Gwidion,” Jade said.
Jade and Margaret exchanged concerned glances. Their talented young student had disappeared recently. He had taken some of their research into portal magics. They could not locate him since, despite many divination spells and a physical search of the entire city by the Watch. The possibility of a connection between Gwidion’s disappearance and this recent disturbance weighed heavily on their minds.
Margaret spoke first, her voice filled with apprehension.
“Jade, do you think there could be a link between Gwidion’s disappearance and this disturbance? He took copies of our portal research when he disappeared. If he delved into that magic … its dangerous territory, and we lost contact with him.” Jade nodded, her expression grave.
“It’s a troubling thought, Margaret. Gwidion could explore realms of magic that few tread. If this disturbance is connected to his disappearance, it might explain the magnitude of it.”
“Gwidion’s quest for forbidden knowledge could have inadvertently unleashed forces beyond his or anyone’s comprehension.” Margaret nodded, deep in thought.
“Yes. I recall Gwidion mentioning that he had family in Gund. It’s possible he might have sought refuge or help there. But given the circumstances, we should also consider other places he might have gone.”
“We need the temples. With their network, we may act quickly to find him, where we’ve failed to do so before.” She started suddenly, as another thought occurred to her. “Where is Aldis?” she whispered.
“Here, last time I saw him this afternoon,” replied Margaret. Jade sagged with visible relief.
“Good. That counts him out as the cause of this disturbance,” she smiled thinly. “You go find Richard. I’ll use the scrying pool to communicate with the temple.”
Margaret nodded and dashed from the room. Jade glanced around at the room filled with ancient tomes, magical artifacts, and the countless reminders of her long and storied career as high mage. But in that moment, uncertainty and insecurity crept in.
She wondered if she was truly up to the task at hand. Gwidion’s disappearance and the mysterious magical disturbance had shaken her deeply. Despite her years of experience and knowledge, a nagging sense of self-doubt gnawed at her confidence. She questioned whether she was the right person to lead this investigation, whether she truly could find the answers that were needed.
It was a rare moment of vulnerability for the usually composed and authoritative mage. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that she had faced challenges and crises before and had always risen to the occasion. With renewed determination, she pushed aside those doubts and focused on the task ahead, determined to uncover the truth.
Jade moved to stand before the scrying pool, its waters clear and normal. She gripped the sides of the bowl and brought the words to the spell to reach out to the temple of Khor, but a moment of hesitation washed over her. Then a grimace. She knew she could not afford to let doubt cloud her judgment, especially in these uncertain times.
Taking a deep breath, Jade recalled the words of her mentors and the countless hours she spent studying the magical arts. She remembered the victories and challenges she’d overcome on her journey to become a high mage. The trust placed in her by the people of the kingdom. With renewed determination, Jade decided that seeking help was not a sign of weakness, but a demonstration of her commitment to protect Syrane and its people. She gripped the edges of the pool tightly, ready to connect to the temple of Khor, her doubts slowly giving way to the resolute spirit within her.
One memory rose unbidden to her mind, one from this very room. Duncan Hawkwind, when he possessed the powers of the archmage Xiphos, had sought to teach her how to use the scrying pool. It hadn’t worked as she’d hoped, and he teased her.
“Have you tried turning it off and on again?” he’d said with a smirk.
She never really understood what he meant when he said that, but it made her smile, anyway.
As Jade stood before the scrying pool, the memory of Duncan was a reminder of the good she had achieved through her magical prowess. A warm smile graced her lips as she remembered the many moments they had shared, his steadfast presence always bringing comfort. She missed him, and this scrying was the only link she had to Duncan since they’d returned him home fifteen years ago.
To regain her focus and reaffirm her abilities, she scried Duncan. It was for her own reassurance; it was a way to connect with someone who believed in her abilities, someone who had witnessed her growth as a mage.
With practiced ease, she reached out to the scrying pool, channelling her magic and intent into the ethereal waters. The surface rippled and shimmered.
As Jade gazed into the scrying pool, seeking the familiar image of Duncan, a feeling of unease washed over her. The connection felt different, and the surroundings were not what she expected. Something was amiss, and it left her with a disconcerting feeling of uncertainty.
Jade watched the unfolding image, her curiosity mingled with growing apprehension. Duncan, typically a statue of immobility, had taken on a disconcerting new appearance. Clad in his customary blue robe, he now stood wielding the glowing green sword that had been the source of so much intrigue. But the most unsettling change was his surroundings - a bleak and featureless grey expanse that seemed to stretch endlessly in all directions.
Jade’s astonishment grew as she witnessed Duncan’s sudden mobility within the desolate grey realm. His voice echoed through the emptiness, calling out to someone or something beyond her view. The surreal nature of the scene sent shivers down her spine.
Her brow furrowed. Jade focussed her magical current to better discern what Duncan was saying within the mysterious grey realm. She strained to catch any fragments of his words, hoping they might provide a clue to his unsettling situation.
As Jade strained her magical senses, the faint voice of Duncan seemed to emerge from the shadows of uncertainty. His words, initially only a distant murmur, slowly grew in clarity and urgency. She could hear him calling out.
“Derek! Derek, can you hear me? It’s Duncan!”
Jade’s heart raced as she listened, her mind racing to comprehend the impossible. Derek was their dear friend, the priest of Khor, who had tragically lost his life fifteen years ago in a confrontation with Ezekiel the wraithknight, under the dark compulsion of Xiphos, the lych. Derek’s death had been a profound loss, and the pain still lingered in their hearts.
Yet here was Duncan, their long-gone colleague, calling out to Derek as if he were alive and well. The situation defied the laws of both magic and nature, sending shivers down Jade’s spine. The implications were staggering, and it filled her with both dread and hope.
But then … a chilling realisation washed over Jade like an icy wave crashing upon her. It all made a sort of perverse sense. Derek was dead. There was no doubt about that. His tragic fate at the hands of Ezekiel the wraithknight was etched into their shared history. And now, Duncan’s inexplicable state, his departure from his immobile existence, his presence in this eerie, grey purgatory; all of it hinted at a realm beyond the living.
Her heart sank as she considered the implications. Duncan, like Derek, might indeed be somewhere in the realm of the departed. It sent shivers down her spine to consider that she was communicating with something that appeared to be the afterlife. The boundary between life and death, between the corporeal and the spectral, was not meant to be crossed.
Her hands trembled as she reached out to the scrying pool, the connection to Duncan’s spectral image still lingering. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the vision of Duncan’s spectral presence in the featureless grey realm. She wanted to deny it, to convince herself that this was some sort of misunderstanding, but the evidence, both seen and felt, was overwhelming.
Duncan, her extra-planar protector, might indeed have crossed the threshold into the afterlife. It was a truth she struggled to accept, for it challenged the very foundation of her understanding of life and death. She couldn’t just leave him there, stranded in that mysterious place, calling out to a friend who had long since passed away.
But what could she do? How could she help Duncan, if he was indeed among the departed?
A solitary, choked sob escaped from deep within Jade as the heavy weight of realisation bore down on her.
In the featureless, grey expanse that surrounded him, Duncan spun around, his movements mirroring the growing urgency she felt in her own heart. His spectral eyes darted, searching for something, for someone, as if responding to a distant sound, a call that only he could hear.
His distant, echoing voice reached her like a ghostly whisper.
“Who is there?”
Jade hesitated for a moment, her mind racing. She had experienced nothing like this in her long years of practicing magic. Could it truly be Duncan, or was this some manifestation of the magical anomaly she had sensed earlier?
“Duncan,” she whispered.
“Jade?” His face creased into a frown. “Is that you?”
Jade’s heart leaped into her throat as she watched Duncan whirl around in the featureless, grey void. His spectral form had somehow sensed her presence. Panic and astonishment gripped her as she realised Duncan was aware of her scrying.
“Duncan!” She cried. Jade’s voice, filled with a mix of hope and desperation, cut through the ethereal space that separated their worlds.
“Jade!” he called. “How? What is going on? I was following Derek…” his voice trailed off.
With a deep breath to steady her own voice, she answered.
“It’s me, Duncan. It’s Jade. Can you hear me?” Her words carried a mixture of hope and apprehension, for she couldn’t be certain how much of her presence he could truly perceive.
Duncan’s head snapped toward the voice, his eyes widening with disbelief. From the look on his face, it was as if she had thrown a lifeline to him amid the unknown. The connection between them, fragile and inexplicable, hung in the air like a taut thread. A divide that defied understanding separated them, but for the first time in what felt like an eternity, they had made contact.
Elation surged through Jade like a gushing river, and the joy was overwhelming. For so long, the fleeting, unchanging visions of Duncan had haunted her, and now, here he was, responding to her call.
Her voice quivered with emotion as she called out to him again.
“Duncan, it’s me, Jade! I’m here to help you. Tell me where you are.”
“I think I’m in the periphery.” Duncan’s voice echoed in the grey, featureless expanse, filled with both hope and uncertainty. “I heard Derek asking me to pick up the sword. He said it’s the only way to find him and prevent Xiphos from returning.”
Jade’s voice wavered as she responded.
“Duncan, Xiphos is dead. We saw it happen. You can’t bring him back,” she said. Duncan’s expression was a mix of determination and desperation.
“I know, Jade, but something is terribly wrong here,” Duncan muttered. “I just had an encounter with a strange and terrifying being. A colossal monster, like a demon, enveloped in writhing shadows, it had an ashen skull with empty eye sockets that emanated a blood-red glow. Its fingernails were claws.” He paused and gathered his thoughts. “The floor shifted. The sword ceased to glow, and then … It disappeared,” he said.
“And I think something has trapped Derek’s spirit here. I can’t leave him alone in this place. I have to find him,” he said.
Jade shook her head. What Duncan said made no sense.
“The periphery has always been a place where the boundaries between realities blur,” Jade replied. “It is a realm where our own fears and uncertainties can take form. This creature could be a demon, if that is truly what you encountered. They are beings of shadow and obscurity. They thrive on the unknown.” Jade’s concern deepened as she enquired further. “Duncan, how long have you been in this place?”
“Just moments, as far as I can tell,” he replied. “Time feels … strange here, like it’s not quite the same.” He looked about as he spoke. “It’s weird, like a grey misty plain of … nothing.” His nose scrunched up. “I remember reading about this.” His face fell. “Or rather, I remember Xiphos reading about this place. And passing through on my way home earlier. It’s exactly as the treatise of Gwonor the Elder describes.”
Jade turned her head to regard her own copy of the esteemed mage Gwonor’s work on the shelf of her study. Her mind raced as she considered her options. She knew she needed to consult the ancient tome of Gwonor the Elder to gather more information about the periphery. This mysterious place was beyond her expertise, and she needed all the knowledge she could find to help Duncan.
As Jade gazed at Duncan’s image within the scrying pool, a thousand thoughts raced through her mind.
The sudden appearance of Duncan in the periphery can’t be a mere coincidence.
The magical disturbance she had just sensed had to be connected to this somehow. How else could she explain it?
15. The periphery.
In the boundless void, Derek Moondreamer, Priest of Khor, found himself in a state of eternal suspension, a place where the very concept of existence seemed to unravel. It was a desolate realm of infinite nothingness, a vast expanse of grey, featureless emptiness that stretched as far as the mind could fathom.
He was aware of his own presence, a ghostly echo of the life he had once known. But here, in this void, there was no time, no space, and no respite. It was a purgatory of the most overwhelming kind, a place of neither light nor darkness, where his soul languished in an eternal limbo.
