Chapter 29 - Always See Your Face

“It’s time.”

They had studied like mad for the last three days. Sleep was a distant memory and they had run out of food some time last night.

But the Demon King’s armies were every bit as relentless as Hecuba had warned, and now they were poised to take the capital. The castle likely wouldn’t last until nightfall.

“But we’re not ready!” Hector complained. More than one other head nodded in agreement.

“We have no choice.” Priam declared.

And they knew he was right. Whether they failed or succeeded, this was their only chance.

They had to try.

They had to succeed.

And so they formed a circle around the centre of the room as they had practiced and bowed their heads to begin reciting the ritual. On the floor was a myriad of glyphs and symbols, each one interlinked to strengthen their chances of succeeding.

Sparks of magic became visible between the six as their chants crescendoed in volume.

Silea felt sick. Like the others, she hadn’t slept in days. Hadn’t eaten in almost two so the older mages could keep up their energy. She was lightheaded before the ritual began and now it took all her willpower to stay standing.

The energy they were creating felt oppressive. A force that bore down on them more than they had ever experienced.

It felt like they were trying to rip open reality itself.

Which was exactly what they were trying to do.

The lights between them coalesced into flashes of images. One after another, after another.

Silea knew this was the part of the ritual designed to find their hero.

She had never known how heroes were chosen before she had begun this study. Now she knew.

The heroes were all descendants of some past great paragon of power. Random chance did not choose their hero. Potential and pedigree were needed so the person could handle the wild energies needed to save her world.

More flashes. More faces flew by. Face after face.

And then the image settled on one. A young girl, probably a teenager. She looked asleep with her auburn hair surrounding her face like a crown. She was pretty, with delicate features only made sweeter by the contented look on her face. She must be having a nice dream.

Suddenly a name came into Silea’s mind.

Callie.

She knew the girl’s name.

She was the one chosen by their ritual.

Relief flooded Silea and she could see a similar look on the five other faces in the room. They had passed the first hurdle. The spell had worked to find a worthy candidate.

While each of the six looked to each other in triumph they missed how the image flickered to another sleeping face for a moment. A middle aged man lay sleeping in some kind of plush chair. But before anyone other than Silea could notice the image was gone.

She wanted to call out. To ask what that was. But she didn’t dare stop her chant.

Just then a booming rocked the area and the room shook. They could hear screams.

The castle was under attack.

Silea looked to each of her fellow mages and saw the determination in their eyes. They would finish what they started.

Louder and louder they chanted. They had found their hero. Now to open the way.

To rip a hole in reality.

Just as their chant rose in intensity the side of the chamber exploded. Stone shards flew across the room as if some great force had blasted the wall.

Silea realized it must have come from a siege engine of some kind outside.

Another boom and another piece of the wall exploded.

This time the shards of brick and stone consumed Flinn entirely. He had been standing closest to that section of the wall when the attack struck. Now he lay unconscious on the ground, bleeding from the side of his head and partially buried in the rubble, having been completely blasted off his feet despite his sturdy dwarven frame.

The five other mages felts a tremendous pull. Like the weight Flinn had been carrying for them was suddenly dropped, leaving them to hold it. Every last one of them struggled to contain the energies of the spell they were trying to cast.

Barely holding on, Silea heard screaming. A young woman’s terrified voice. The sound wasn’t coming into her ears. It seemed to resonate in her very soul.

Before she could determine the source, the energies that pulled at each of the mages in the room intensified wildly. The energy they could barely shape and contain all of a sudden felt more than twice as heavy.

And Silea could feel the spell slipping away.

“No!” Priam yelled as he tried to push back on the spell. To bring it under control.

But something had clearly gone wrong. And with one fewer mage helping to carry the burden it was clear the effort was too much.

“Let it go Priam! It’s not going to work!” Hecuba yelled.

“This is our only chance!” His fists were curled so hard Silea could see blood flow down his up-stretched arms, his own nails raking into his flesh from the pressure.

The screaming in Silea’s head didn’t stop. If anything she could have sworn she heard two terrified voices.

Just then the light in the room from the spell intensified before suddenly collapsing. It was a sight most mages would welcome since it usually meant a spell was ready to cast as the power coalesced inside the user.

But suddenly Priam cried out and light poured from his eyes and open mouth. Hot beams shooting across the room.

Before Silea could understand what was happening the light emanating from Priam intensified until Silea was forced to close her eyes.

In that moment she heard a boom and felt a wave of heat wash over her and she was knocked off her feet and onto the hard stone floor.

She shook her head trying to get her bearing. Trying to end the ringing in her ears.

She looked towards where Priam was.

Where he had been.

All that remained was a pile of ash where her mentor once stood.

They had failed.

She looked around and saw similar expressions of shock and grief on the faces of the three others who remained conscious as they were trying to rise to their feet unsteadily after the blast.

Just then another tremor rocked the room. The siege engine’s attack continued.

“We need to get out of here!” Hector yelled as he waved towards the exit.

Using the strength of his beastkin nature, Sarpedon grabbed Hecuba who could barely stand in one of his arms and then the still stricken Silea in the other. He carried one of the women over each of his shoulders as he ran.

As he moved to flee the room all Silea could do was reach out towards the remains of her mentor and the glyphs on the floor that represented the promise of hope.

Hope that had been shattered.

And so began Silea’s days of her life on the run.