Hi Readers!
So, Zak decided to leave this part for me. However, don't think you can miss his update as he is introducing new players to the field.
Adiran didn’t like hearing that name. It was soon after he had come to this time as a child that he had come into contact with Barakus. The things the man had done were beyond anything Adiran had seen done by the mad cult of the Cold One.
“Adiran.” Said Mary sharply, breaking him from his musings.
“I can only tell you what I know, which isn’t as much as what you may think.”
“You know more than what Johnathan ever told me.”
That was true, but Adiran didn’t want to repeat things that were known only to the royal family.
“Leave.” He snapped at the guards in the room.
Those who were alive picked up their injured companions and hurriedly left the room. It was rare that Adiran gave orders, so when he did, they were quick to obey.
Adiran raised a hand and snapped his fingers. The bodies left in the aftermath of the battle with Robert were engulfed in black flame, disappearing in a matter of seconds. Before Mary could object, Adiran said, “I will compensate the families, but I cannot risk ears and eyes at this moment. Likely, they are already trying to breach our defences.”
Adrian seemed to understand this, as his face suddenly took on a darkened look.
“Adrain?” asked Gorma, feeling the shift in the room.
“We invoked a name we shouldn't of.” Was all he said.
“No one would have known. Very few people know of Barakus today. My grandfather saw to that.” Adiran said.
He signed and startled his tale.
“Barakus was grandfather’s head priest, during a time of unbelievable famine and plague. It never seemed to break, despite our mages trying to free the land of an unexplained blight. For years this continued, forcing Dragonshold to rely on our neighbours, time and time again. Johnathan couldn’t have been more than a handful of years old when I noticed the signs of the Cold One’s touch. A rot that ran deep in the realm. Through the land, through its people, and spreading. Father had just been crowned and people hoped for a miracle. It got so much worse. The walking dead invaded homes at night, dragging people kicking and screaming from their beds. Grandfather had tried to get external mages to help, and even Father tried, but it was as if our power and influence were draining away. For years, I had been guiding the realm, secretly of course, and I saw the Cold One’s touch, but I could never find its source. I was being outsmarted and it was maddening. Every day I had to watch the people of Dragonshold get sicker and lose all faith in the crown. Then the cult sprang up.”
Adiran started pacing.
“The cult saw the revival of a deity similar to Vitex. No, don’t ask, I won’t give more power to this cult…”
“The 17.” Said Magna.
Adiran looked at her in shock. She only shrugged her shoulders and said, “Zreld mentioned them.”
Shocked, yet not truly surprised, Adiran continued.
“The cult promised people things would get better if only they ousted the royal family. The request came out of nowhere and the royal family was bombarded with demands that the people could self-govern themselves. They were too stupid to see the invisible strings that controlled their actions. No one could, but I could. I knew the Cold One’s touch by then.”
“What reason would they have had to remove royalty?” asked Vitex.
“The land.” Said Milmor. “This land and the accompanying forest and swamp.”
“And you have no idea how many sleepless nights I had trying to prove just that. I struggled far harder than I should of. It took me far longer than it should of to realize my tutor was preventing me from seeing the bigger picture. And even then, I only scratched the surface once I knew the truth.”
Adiran felt his face flush in anger and embarrassment. It had been his grandfather who had discovered the truth at the end of the day after a ghoul had nearly dragged him from his bed in the middle of the night. The man was smart enough to kill the creature and follow the rest of the pack deep into the forest to see who their masters were.
“Barakus was a mage of magnitudes I cannot even begin to describe. He wove life and death as if they were nothing. I knew he was a powerful mage, but I didn’t know that he was so powerful that he could hide the stench of necromancy and demon worship.”
Gorma immediately spat on the carpet at the mention of necromancy and then blushed at her rudeness when no one else followed her lead.
“Exactly. I was blinded because the Cold One already knew I was here, and I needed to be kept in the dark. Barakus fed me traces of magic I didn’t know, and I was desperate to learn more, it blinded me, and it nearly cost us the kingdom.”
“I assume Barakus was ousted then.” Said Magan.
“No. He was supposed to be put to death once my grandfather collected the men he needed to subdue him in the castle, away from his pit of death. However, before Grandfather could fell him, there was this…” Adiran struggled to find the words he needed, “Mass of darkness that swallowed him, but not before Grandfather all but ran the traitor through. We never figured out what happened, but by then there were so many rumours, that we had to tell the populace that Barakus was gone.”
“Why not tell people you had put him to death?” asked Magna.
“Then they would have wanted to see a body, one we couldn’t produce. No, saying he was exiled was easier. And after a while, the land started to recover, so people believed what we told them."
“So, a Cold One’s mage is still running around?”
“Not in so many words.” Said Millmor. “He wasn’t doing much running around when Adiran was a lad either. He wasn’t even alive.”
“Explain.” Said the Mage.
“Barakus ordered the death of Derric’s family and enslavement of his kind.”
“Hold on, didn’t that occur several thousand years ago?” asked Adiran.
“It seems the Cold One has favourites.” Muttered Adrain.
Magna reached over and squeezed her brother’s shoulder, sensing his bitterness.
‘Now what?” he asked.
And back to you
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