Demons, Third Apostle. Demons have co to Thaland.
What? Izas asked. This is not ti for poetic language, Eldin.
Im not exaggerating, Third Apostle. Were that I was. The squat man launched into a story of demons, summoners, and cultists.
Izas mood fell further and further with every word.
Cultists. Demons. Summoners. Raiders.
All caused indirectly by the Generasians.
The Heroes might not have placed bla on the foreigners for such a blunderbut Izas was not so forgiving. The ancient priest closed his eyes as the last of Eldins words reached him.
Two sets of foreigners. One bent on poking into matters they should not while rejecting our divine saviour. The other set on conjuring demons and bringing more chaos to our realm. Trouble spreads through our lands. He looked up at the closest statue of Uldar standing atop a columbarium.
In a way, it looked like the bronze features of Izas god watched him in judgent. Do you test us, holy lord? he whispered.
Eldin cleared his throat after allowing the older man a few heartbeats of silence. What will we do, Third Apostle?
Have the Heroes decided what they will do? Izas asked.
Theyre going to join with the Generasians, Eldin said. And work with them to hunt both the enemy's forces, and these demon collaborators. The kings offered a bounty to anyone who brings these cultists in. Dead. One gold coin per head.
Hmmmm. I see. Then this is what we will do. Your duties are done for now, Eldin, and I must consult with the First Apostle. Izas laid a hand on the younger mans shoulder. You are weary, my friend, I can tell. Go. Get yourself sothing to eat, tend to your prayers, and rest. There will be a ti when I will call on you again.
He looked down at the priests calloused hands. Perhaps it will be necessary for you to unite the divinity of Uldars holy service with the skills won in your past life, Eldin.
There was a mont of silence. ...if it cos to that, Third Apostle, Eldin said. May Uldar watch over you.
With a bow, Eldin left the mausoleum.
Izas closed his eyes, considering the report and the changes coming to Thaland. More chaos. More trouble. More foreigners who do not understand the precious balances that occurred in our realm.
It had to be stopped.
As quickly as his old bones could manage, he strode from the mausoleum and down the escarpnt to the deepest chambers of the sanctuary. Quietly, he slipped into the sanctum of the First Apostle and, making the sign of Uldar over his heart, fell to his knees, prostrating himself before the dark alcove.
Within, he knew the First Apostle kept to his quiet contemplations.
Izas, you have co, the ancient voice ca from the dark. I did not imagine I would see you again so soon.
It is with tidings that Ive co, First Apostle. Izas kept his head bowed low. The Heroes have visited the Generasiansmore trouble brews in Thaland.
Oh? Do they seek to betray us? A dark note entered the First Apostles voice. There was a threat hidden in those gentle tones: the mark of a man willing to do anything under the right circumstances. And the mark of man who had.
They have not betrayed usyet, the Third Apostle said. They have begun their digging and intend to dig deep, but at this point, nothing troubling has been unearthed. Though I fear that day may co in ti. No, it is not they who cause the great trouble I bring to you. Not directly. There are other foreigners who have co to Thaland. Others who bring darkness with them.
Speak of them, Izas.
And so Izas spoke, repeating Eldins words nearly word for word. Dozens of years of ntal techniques had kept his mind sharp, and his mory mightier than most, despite his advanced age.
When he had finished, silence ca from the alcove for a ti.
...things shift, the First Apostle finally said. It is too early to take great actionbut our eyes must remain open. I will consult the hidden scriptures to know if Uldar prophesied these events.
And what shall I do, First Apostle?
You have so freedom to act, ca the reply. Select a group of subtle layfolk. See what can be done toguide the Generasians discoveries.
It will be done, First Apostle. Izas lowered his head. As Uldar guides us, we shall guide them. The cycle must continue. All power to our god.
###
Power was addictive.
That was clearer to Alex with each new triumph.
He was nearing his next success and longed for that mont.
Another week had flown by, marked by another journey to Thaland, and a return to Generasi with mornings, afternoons and evenings filled with practice. Daily practice had led to daily progressboth great and smalland the cusp of a major breakthrough.
He checked his notebook.
Cleanse Flesh. 97% complete.
Just seeing that number threatened to send him leaping with excitent. He fought a strong urge to give into one of those decorumless monts Isolde loved to needle him about, and go running around, pumping his fists, and screaming uncontrollably the minute he completed Cleanse Flesh. He was almost there, almost at 100%. Soon, the spell would be complete, but when it was, hed have to fight the urge to go berserk in public. Normally, in a place as busy and crowded as the one he was in, getting distracted by everything around wouldve been easy. There was so much going on: scores of new sights, scents and sounds everywhere. But, his thoughts were mostly on the spell and what mastering it would an. Images of power, as appealing as the perfect al, or Theresa fresh from her bath kept playing through his mind.
His mana thrumd each ti he threw himself at the spell, a promise for the victory to co.
And it was coming.
I wonder how often new wizards think about the power they hold, how it feels, what it ans, what it can do? He organised his notes on a stone table carved with decorative glyphs in nesting circles in front of him. The symbols looked like magical glyphs, but had no actual power. He looked up from the table to the crowds around him. How many of you went into wizardry for pure power? Is that what still drives you?
Of course, no one heard his thoughts.
But even if they could, he doubted they would have answered.
They were bustling about, consud by their own thoughts, just as he was.
Today, hed decided to study in one of the largest markets in Generasi: Borgias Square was nad for a local rchant family of great prominence. Its a sha I couldnt co here before, but running into Uldars priests was sothing I couldnt risk. But with most of them sent back to Thaland, with Claygon by his side, and with his ti fighting beside the Heroeshe felt braver, a lot more secure. Of course, hed still made it a point to choose the market square furthest from the temple district, but being cautious wasnt such a bad thing.
The square held sights that were wondrous even to soone whod gotten used to the city.
Carts filled with crops freshly picked that morning from local farms, vineyards and greenhouses were ladened with fruit, vegetables and mushrooms in a rainbow of colours. Their aroma drifted through the air, mixing with enticing scents of smoked ats from butchers stalls, and carts belonging to spice traders and herbalists.
atfresh, smoked and saltedwas being carved by a sea of vendors, shoppers argued over the choicest cuts. Fishfresh from the seahung from rows of hooks in dozens of fishmonger stalls, so so enormous, that floating scaffolding supported the largest ones.
Alex smiled, looking at a fifteen-foot long sabrefish.
Grimloch would go through you in about two days, he whispered, as his interest moved to different products.
Stalls displaying crockpots, charcoal grills, spits over magical fires, and portable, mana-powered ovens cooking a variety of dishes, caught his attention. Hobrews in wooden barrels, both large and small, were filled with a host of ales, wines, and spirits. They werent the most prized vintages or brews in Generasi, but they were fresh, and many had unique flavours crafted from careful, adventurous experintation. The scents drifting from the oak barrels mixed with the slls of many fantastic foods in the market: butter bread, tarts, spiced sausages, lted cheese, mulled wine, finely spiced stews and more, reached Alexs nose.
Hed already picked up a nice lunch of stead clams and rice fried in a spicy sauce and was washing it down at the table with a large cup of herbal tea. Selina, Theresa, and Brutus wouldve loved the market, but his sister had classes, and Theresa was at work today.
Well, theres always next ti, he said. And Im definitely paying this place another visit.
There was too much to see in a single visit. His eye suddenly caught sight of
Magic items.
Potions! A rchant called from across the street. Behind him, a shelf floated, packed to the brim with potion bottles. Potions for strength of the arm! Strength in the head! Strength in the bed! We have em all here!
I want your strongest potion, potion-seller! a brightly dressed man called, striding up to the rchants stall.
He grinned. Im not sure you can handle my strongest potion!
Next to his stall was a woman selling a field of miniature, magical constructs all laid out on a brightly coloured carpet. Even magical beasts in cagesso large and so smallwere on display for any buyer with deep enough pockets, and an adventurous spirit.
All of these wonders and more were spread across blankets, in booths and on carts throughout the square, a space big enough to fit one of Alrics longer blocks into it.
Even the sky was full: flying rchants perched on floating carts and soaring carpets. They called to custors shopping on airborne brooms, on the backs of winged familiars shaped like enormous beetles, drake-like creatures with enormous wingspans, and colourful flying rugs.
A thousand voices filled the air as deals were struck, bargains made, and fortunes ruined in a multitude of places at the sa ti. In the middle of it all, on a platform floating high above the square, a song was being perford with the enthusiasm of a massive choir by a half-dozen bards.
And The Fool watched it all.
And he listened.
And he learned.
As deals were hatched and bargains struck, he took in information like a sponge in water, storing it for later review with the Mark. He focused on the rchants, listening to how they bargained, engaged with custors, struck deals, and haggled. Every proposal. Every counter proposal. The way rchants got the attention of passersby.
From each interaction, he learned sothing new about how deals were crafted, sales made, and the power of subtle persuasion. It was like a class in tactics. Alex turned his attention to a smiling rchant who was trying to sell a bauble to an older wizard. The seller focused entirely on his custor, asking how the wizards day was going, then threw in sincere sounding questions about the older mans family.
Alex watched as rapport built as the conversation continued.
Thats when the custor began showing greater interest in the rchandise.
But the truly amazing part?
By the ti the sale was over, the rchant had convinced the custor that it was his own idea to buy what was being sold.
Alex couldnt help but admire the hustle.
He made note of how the rchant operated, his techniques would co in handy for step one in the financial part of Operation Grand Summoning Ascension.
Isnt this nice, Claygon? Alex asked his golem, who stood nearby. Learning while learning. He tapped his notebook. Best way to do it.
Claygon didnt respond as the wind blew through a tiny flower laurel on the very tip of his head. Shoppers had recognized Claygon from the Gas, and several had co over, filled with questions for Alex. So wanted to shake hands with the golem. A set of twins wanted to give him flowers woven into a laurel to wear on his helt, even though the wreath barely fit the tip of it. But, Claygon didnt seem to mind as the children scread in delight while getting a ride in his massive hand.
Alex just smiled, and took a sip of tea.
Alright, here we go, ti for another try. The young wizard was getting ready to dive into Cleanse Flesh again when he caught sight of two familiar figures. Walking through the market were two brothers he hadnt seen in months and who Alex had thought hed likely never see again. He half-stood from the table, waving at the two large selachar who were studying a pair of compasses.
FanDor! GelDor, Alex called to the captain and first mate of The Red Siren. Here! Over here!
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