Chapter 20 - The Cost of Magic

Abner descended the southern tower steps. Torch in hand, the darkness drew back from its flickering glow. Down the spiral staircase he went, fighting back a coughing fit as best he could, and finding himself on the losing side. Stopping by a window slit carved into the old stone, he paused, bringing up his free hand to cover his mouth.

It came forth more violent than when in the cell, and he nearly doubled over by the end of the spasm. With each violent hacking cough, the pain in his chest grew from a minor scratch to the sensation of hundreds of needles having their way with his lungs. His episode echoed off of the empty staircase, and brought itself back to his own ears. The sound could only be described by him in one word. Useless.

The torment passed as soon as it had been brought on, and the Magi raised himself again, fixing his posture to that of his station. He withdrew the hand from his mouth and, in the window’s sliver of light, gazed down his nose at it. On the first knuckle of his index finger, a smear of blood glistened vibrant in the light. The sight brought a curl to his thin lips, an expression he was rarely known to make.

“All that for a simple illusion?” He shook his head, and wiped the finger upon some moss that grew out of the stone. “Well, that’s one.” He went on, and pushed the moment from his mind, causing his face to become bright and open once more.

He moved down and out of the tower, its wooden door opening up to the Hall of Rooms, where friends of Mountcrane could always find accommodations, but little privacy. Despite its name, the hall’s original purpose had been long since forgotten by the castle’s current occupiers, and indeed seemed to mostly be used to connect the King’s hall to the southern and Western towers. However, due to the castle's lack of size, it had been fitted with wooden walls, boxing in sections of the room along each side, in order to create a series of bedrooms. The structuring method of the walls left little to stop one’s voice from being heard by anyone else guesting in Mountcrane.

Abner, however, thought little of this. At a brisk pace, he placed the torch on its mount and moved down to his room, always keeping an eye on the open door linking to the throne room. Only a maid moved from room to room, basket of laundry on her hip. She smiled at the Magi, who returned her smile before slipping into his quarters.

He went past the bed and to the desk found against the wall, resting finely below a large window that met the ceiling. The sash bars cast a decorative shadow along the room. He looked about the desk, scrolls and books lining its wood, with little markers studded throughout them so as to not lose the page. At its center lay a strangely bound tome, with no describable markings of title left upon it. Instead, the only thing there was a white stone of some unknown origin, set within the leather and sealed around with worn down silver.

Abner ran his fingers along the stone, smiling at the way it appeared to glow in the light. He then opened the book and flipped to a random page where, inside, a letter had been placed. He gave it a nod.

“Good to see no one has found you. Though, I should probably get rid of you soon.” He read over the page once more, front and back. Many details of the strange happening far away, of schemes and flight being taken. He had read it at least a hundred times before taking his journey to Mountcrane. Each time, he considered possible courses of action. Of men to send, or allies to call upon. But then they would get to have all of the fun, and take all of the glory for themselves. That simply would not do.

He finished it once more, and gazed down at the final line, separated from the other.

If you do find him, keep him alive at all costs. Maybe the only proof we have to stop it all from falling apart. Signed, Thomas Greywall.

“What a chance this is.” Abner shut the book, tucked it beneath his arm, and strutted out from the room, cape flowing behind, yellow as a dandelion.

“Is his majesty nearby?” He found the throne room bustling with servants and guards that moved about at a pace he found himself unable to match. The scent of bread and cooking meats filled the little hall, and the clanking of metal being pounded persisted in the air. The man he had stopped to ask, an older man carrying a bundle of wood, struggled to hold up the burden while answering.

“His majesty is out in the yard with the captain, I do believe. Shall I go fetch him?”

“No no, that will not be necessary, my good man. Carry on with your work.” Abner gave the man a reassuring pat on the back before making his way across the throne room and to the next hall. Up a wide flight of stairs with tall gray arches leading to the next floor. Tapestries and candelabres decorated the walls and each window he passed. Their images telling stories of battles that might have seemed long ago. Although, it would not take a well trained eye to spot the newness of the fabric when compared to the stone behind it.

Abner ignored these things as he took the path of a door that led up another flight, this one darker and far more narrow. At its top, it opened out to a stone bridge connecting the castle to the North wall, crenellations protecting each side. Here, he stopped and looked down to the yard below, but did not observe a thing. Instead, his mind went to the prisoner.

The note had gone over every single detail its author possibly could. A fantastic story, in Abner’s opinion. A tale of a great chase with what might as well have been a demon from beyond the sea. How a guard named Elias and a prisoner named Giles had dared to go hunting after the beast. The letter had kept his mind distracted since it had arrived to him from the rider. It read just like one of his books he kept on the shelf. Only, this time it was real.

Then the letter had to go and ruin it all with its true purpose. According to that windbag Greywall, this man was implicated in an assassination attempt. Not just any assassination, but the assassination. The one that had been spreading throughout all of Tovoran, and the same one that had all regions assuming the worst to come. Of course, all Greywall had was his assumptions. No real proof. But still, Abner had sworn an oath. And he would be expected to act upon it, to the best of his judgment as a Magi.

“That would be two oaths, now.”

“And who is the second one to?” Abner broke from his contemplation. He had not realized time moving as it had, and found the sun had risen another inch higher since he stepped out into the open air. To his left, walking down the bridge towards him, a young woman smiled at him cheerily. She wore a yellow dress, contrasting with the deep green patterns woven into its middle and sides. Her hair, a nut brown, was brought high on her head into a bun that Abner felt resembled a flower he might find in the spring fields back home. Set around this bun was a white crown of silver, designed like that of birch leaves. Within each leaf mold, bright emeralds had been set to better reflect the plant. She was flanked on either side by a young handmaiden, each of whom seemed a good few years older than the woman. In spite of this, they both kept their eyes low when in her presence.

Abner’s ever present smile broadened upon seeing the queen, and he reached out his hands to receive her. They embraced and held each other’s hands once pulled away. The Magi looked her up and down before bowing his head in respect.

“My queen.” He looked back up to her green eyes. “It is a pleasure to see you again. You look as beautiful as ever. Though don’t let your husband know I have noticed this. Else, I might find myself placed on the front lines soon enough.” He gave her a knowing wink, before letting go of her hands and turning to the maidens behind her. “And how are you lovely ladies doing?” They did not respond, but he noticed one passing him a glance, which he nodded to.

“And how long have you been awake, my dear magic maker?” He looked back to the queen, her face showing a mock frustration towards him. “My soldiers tell me that you had arrived late last night. You don’t expect me to believe you were truly too busy all morning to see me?”

“Oh no, ma’am. Not at all. In fact, I happened to be on my way to thank you and your husband for the lovely gift.” He looked down at his outfit.

“Oh I am sure you were. And just so happened to be everywhere I wasn’t for the whole day.” She looked him up and down, nodding in approval. “Well, it fits you well. I even made sure to give you my brother’s colors. I know how you adore him so.”

“I could not be more pleased if I tried.”

She nodded, and moved over to the bridge’s edge to see where Abner had been looking. Her eyes glanced about at the movement below. However, where most would see the hustle and bustle of the young men trying their new weaponry for the first time, her eyes would only fall upon those handing the blades out. Old, all of them. Not a single person with a full head of hair or a dark patch on their beards. And their eyes all looked at those they armed with a weariness that filled her heart with unease. After a time of watching them, she turned to Abner who had been doing the same.

“Was it like this the last time?”

“How do you mean, ma’am.” She paused at the question, and turned her head back to the yard.

“I suppose I don’t really know. I just don’t have any idea what all of this is supposed to be like when it does happen.”

Abner nodded, understandingly. Elisa, queen of Mountcrane, and sister of the second king of Northguard, had not been born until well into the tribal wars that marked a dark time in the northern history of Tovoran. Blood spilled all across the forest in a mad scramble for the power left unattended in the aftermath of the great civil war. Many of the regions found themselves fending off would be war lords during this time, to be sure. But the north held a special place in the books of history for how far it had gone.

The Magi found himself arriving on the scene well into the tribal conflict. With the threat of Greyrock putting an end to the conflict and seizing the whole region, Abner found his orders to find ways of bringing the conflict to a finale to be more than his youthful mind could handle.

“So long ago now.” The words mindlessly slipped through his lips.

“What do you mean?” Abner came back to the moment.

“Oh, er, my apologies ma’am. Afraid I got lost in my thoughts again. Habit of my order. Now, let me think. No, nothing like the last time. I can assure you of that.” He gestured down to the young men far below. “Indeed, these represent more of peace keepers than soldiers.” He laughed. “Yes, patrol men to help with the mountain pass, from what I can gather.” It felt unlike him to lie. But seeing her soft face softened his already buttery heart.

“Oh, I see.” For a moment, the queen’s youthful face brightened at his words. However, upon hearing of the mountain pass, it faded inward once more. The two looked out over the wall and beyond to the country of trees. It seemed alive as winds swayed the branches about, causing the color of the forest to swirl one’s vision. Each of them lost in their own thoughts.

After a time, the queen looked over at the book under his arm.

“What is that one about? Another adventure story? A romance this time?” Abner pulled the book out from under his arm and looked at it fondly.

“Not this one, my queen. This one is something that I happened upon only recently.” He ran his finger over the stone again. “This book is something that can change my life.”

“Oh you do love to speak in riddles, Abner.” She turned away, back to her handmaids. “Why can’t you be more like your sister and just tell me the truth how it is?” Abner laughed, a sound that echoed off the sad old stones around them.

“My queen, I would if I fully understood it myself.” He placed the book under his arm once more. “Here, let me make it up to you. Tonight, I will explain it all over dinner with you and your handsome husband.”

“You will dine with us tonight? You promise to not vanish when the sun sets?”

“I promise, ma’am.”

“Well, alright. But I want to see a trick. Right now. Before I leave. Otherwise, I will tell my husband to throw you out.” Abner crossed his thin arms over his chest.

“Dear me, the queen still loves the old magic, it would seem.” He turned away to the yard once more. “I would, ma’am. However, I do feel such butterflies in my stomach with all of this weather.” She moved over to pull at his sleeve, like a child begging for a treat.

“Oh please, Abner. Just this once. It has been so long since I have seen any real magic.” She did not notice his mouth move while she spoke, and did not hear the single word spoken. But she did see the clever smile form on the corner of his lips, and her heart leapt.

A moment later, from under the bridge, hundreds of orange and blue butterflies came swarming up and around the three ladies. They danced about in the wind, forming wondrous patterns as they were swept up high into the air. The queen clapped her hands, attempting to catch them, but always they fluttered just out of reach. One by one they burst into dazzling embers that faded away after a few moments.

After a few more moments, the queen laughed, hugged Abner and gave him a little kiss on his pale cheek.

“Thank you, Magi.” With that, she turned and left the bridge with her two handmaids.

A few moments later, Abner's smile vanished before he went through another coughing fit. He leaned heavy on the wall, fighting for breath. He brought his hand up to his mouth once more, and looked at the results. The amount of blood had tripled from the last time. He sighed, and wiped the hand along the stone. A remaining butterfly landed on the stone next to his head. He looked at it and shook his head.

“Well, I suppose that would be two. Sister won’t be pleased.