The Enchanters Guild

When I had first heard of the Enchanters Guild, my mental image of it was about as generic as any story could be. The guild headquarters would have sat in the middle of some unnamed medieval town, perhaps more decorated with magical ornaments and gleaming buttresses than an adventurer or merchant’s guild.

A bright young secretary with thin round glasses would be found at the main desk, and I, had I possessed a body or any magical talent, might have addressed her formally and asked for how to register as an enchanter. Posted notes and loose leaflets were plastered on one of the walls, guild requests for fledgling enchanters or recruitment posters for a party.

But the real Enchanters Guild wasn’t set in the middle of a nameless town.

The real guild wasn’t even marked by a building.

Diane brought Vivian, Guin, and Emily through a patch of wooded groves and into an open clearing crowded with swarms of people. That’s when I realized the Enchanters Guild wasn’t even a guild, it was an army.

Hundreds, if not thousands, of makeshift tents lined the verdant plains by the hillside. Patrolmen saddled on horseback trotted around the perimeter with mounted spears and heavy armor, clearly not the attire one would expect from a meager enchanter. Nearby, a long line of soldiers, dressed in varied garbs and hoisting different banners, waited for their turn for breakfast at the hands of a rotund chef wielding an oversized ladle.

The city of Arcadia lay in the distance, past the hills and down a steep slope, its people walled off by meager stone palisades that had been decimated by relentless artillery strikes. This was the origin of the trailing black smoke and the smolders of last night burned with the reminder that some nightmares were real.

“How long have you been planning this,” Vivian breathed.

“Regretting coming with me?” Diane snickered.

“No,” Vivian shook her head.

“Hmm,” Diane mused, “Since the last war. I’ve known since then that something needed to be done about the empire. The Dimoskis were feckless usurpers, but they were right that the empire needs change. I can only hope to be different from them. Do you remember what I said, Vivian? That for every enchantress you have in your ranks, you save a dozen men?”

“Vaguely.”

“Do you know where it comes from?”

“No.”

“They got that figure when my brothers and sisters died covering the imperial retreat at the end of the war,” Diane said, “There was nothing left of the them, just bits and pieces, some of them were on their last breath still casting barriers against Kapur artillery as the last imperial knight withdrew from range, knights under the Astral Viscount’s command.”

“I had become the Grand Enchantress by then, the youngest to do so,” Diane continued, “My fellow enchanters, my colleagues and teachers in the academy, were left to die because the empire thought I might have too many ambitions.”

“But you married the Astral Viscount,” Vivian gasped, “I thought–”

“I prefer women, Vivian, you know this,” Diane shrugged, “I’m happy for Stefan and Vladimir. They deserve to be happy, and I’m happy that I’ve helped bring you and Kyle together.”

“You married him for this?”

“There is no love for me until my brothers and sisters have been laid to rest,” Diane said, “I’ve moved the pieces so that I could end things here today, salvage the empire that my fellow enchanters protected to their dying breaths.”

“The war pigeon,” Vivian realized, “The magister gathering in Arcadia. They aren’t assembling for the rebels. They’re here for you.”

“And the Astral Viscount is here, with the majority of the Kapur war machines at his back,” Diane flexed the gemstones sitting on her fingers, “And I’m sure somewhere in the midst of all this, is Artimael Pendragon and his gallant knights, holding every sacred relic that the Enchanters Guild hasn’t procured, thinking that’ll save him.”

“Then you helping me with my revenge against the prince,” Vivian’s pain stricken eyes turned to Guin Veridian.

“I know what you’re thinking, Vivian,” Diane whispered, “Yes, I used you to relieve the royal family of their blessing of Avalon. Even if I wanted to help you, you were also a convenient pawn. I’m sorry.”

“Did you know about this, Guin?” Vivian asked.

“Lady Astral saved my life,” Miss Veridian bowed, “But I’m learning this for the first time myself.”

“Are you regretting it now?” Diane asked.

Vivian stepped forward and raised her arms to strike Diane across the cheek. In her eyes swirled rage and betrayal, and I couldn’t blame her at all for those feelings. I felt the same way. All those times that Diane had spoken to me, had they all been part of some meticulous political calculation? Was even all that talk about a curse a lie? And if I was harboring these doubts, then how deep did Vivian’s pain run?

But Vivian held her hand. She let out a sharp frustrated cry and brought her arms down back to her side. Suddenly, she raised her arm again, as if unsure if pacifism was the right answer, but after another moment, heaved a deep sigh and took a step back.

“For a moment there,” Vivian said, “I thought perhaps you’re as bad as Prince Pendragon. No, even worse for having used me like this.”

Diane stayed silent. Vivian breathed another sigh and hardened her gaze.

“But I promised on my honor as a Greymoor, that I would see this through to the end,” Vivian snarled, “There’ll be time to hate you after this.”

“Lovely,” Diane smiled, “To war then.”

Diane descended the hill into the bustling camp. Many of her followers immediately recognized her and carved a path to the center of camp. As we neared the center, Diane motioned for us to enter a tent larger and more decorated than the others. Inside was a large table with a local map stretched across it.

“I’m glad you’ve decided to come along,” Diane said, bending over the map, “Because without you, this might not be possible. I’ve gathered an army, but in the end I'm just one enchantress.”

“You’re not being serious,” Vivian said.

“I am,” Diane replied, “I lured you here because I have an army, but I don’t know where to send them.”

“Diane, this is crazy,” Vivian yelled, “I’m not a war strategist.”

“Distinctions in the academy mean nothing?”

“Those were war games, games being the operative word!”

“So treat it like a game.”

“How could you ask me to treat other people’s lives as a game?” Vivian asked, “Especially after everything I’ve just learned.”

“Because the alternative,” Diane replied, “Is it to allow the commanding officers of my battalions who have not even seen two winters in the field, to decide for themselves.”

It didn’t take long for Vivian to calculate the catastrophe of Diane’s hypothetical. She nodded solemnly and stepped forward and leaned over the map. Figurines, representing the actors on the battlefield, stood at three separate locations.

“What do we know of the battle from last night?” Vivian asked.

“The bulk of the imperial army is still en route, while the vast majority of the forces here are on horseback,” Diane explained, “The magisters are holed up in Arcadia, preparing for an imminent breakout. The Kapur forces have positioned the artillery on the high ground above the city. We’re looking for him, but Artimael Pendragon is nowhere to be found.”

“This is not a winning battle, Diane,” Vivian said, “You don’t even need me to know that–”

“That the only viable strategy is to first take the Kapur artillery position on the high ground?”

“This should have been done last night, under the cover of darkness,” Vivian shook her head, “It’s morning, the sun is getting higher with nothing to obscure their visibility. Whoever you send in there now is going to die.”

“That’s why I’ll be going,” Diane said.

“What?”

“I didn’t bring you here to start the war, Vivian,” Diane said, “I’ve already done that for you, you’re here to win the battle. I’ll lead a charge against the Kapur position, while the remainder of our forces will be held in the rear, to take Arcadia and wait for the Prince to show his hand. Then, you’ll strike.”

“I thought you wanted me to direct the battle.”

“I do,” Diane laughed, “What, do you think I can talk telepathically to my soldiers while I’m being pummeled by artillery?”

“Diane, this is suicide.”

“I don’t intend to die, Vivian. My brothers and sisters were subjected to this hell at the end of the last war,” Diane whispered, “It’s time that I paid hell a visit.”

Diane turned and began to leave. At the entrance to the tent, she stopped, and somehow, I knew her last words were going to be directed at me. As she turned her face towards us, I noticed a trickle of blood flowing down her nose.

“Kyle, look after Vivian for me,” Diane said, “If you can find it in yourself to give up the curse, the two of you will be unstoppable.”