The Magician of Chronomancy

Chapter One

I was surprised that the ruins of the Hombaroth ancient civilization were still intact. It had to have been at least three hundred years since I last saw them in person. Arriving at just half an hour before midnight, all fifty members of the Order of the Claws of Gamidalr, an evil cult I had been traveling with for the past few weeks, picked up the pace or else the timeframe for the ritual would pass. We entered the temple at top of the cliffside in a single file line. Our only source of light came from the seven burning torches each carried by a member spread out in the line. Our identical dark cloaks mingled with the surrounding darkness, making it difficult to pinpoint who was going where. So, I went by the sounds of the footsteps around me.

At the very center of the line was a barefoot young woman. She looked no older than eighteen or nineteen years, with long hair as red as an apple and wearing a ragged sleeveless white dress covered in brown and black dirt stains. The tall husky man in front of her held a thick metal chain leash connected to her slave collar, and he yanked it frequently for her to keep up. Meanwhile, the man behind her had the tip of his broad short sword pointing at her back to ensure she didn't try escaping. I kept my eye on her as well.

While I was towards the back of the line, the most difficult part was matching the rhythm of everyone else's movements. Putting one foot in front of the other, marching in unity meant submitting to conformity, which had never been a strong suit of mine. But I did it anyway because I may get caught if I was not in sync with the rest of the group.

Right step. Pause. Left step. Pause. Right step. Turn. Pause. Left step.

At this rate, it would be sunrise by the time we'd get there.

We ascended several flights of a hundred spiraling stairs each and went through a series of long arched stone corridors. Twenty-five minutes passed like this until we finally reached the innermost sanctum of the ruins. The room was a large circular cathedral with the ceilings being at least seventy feet high with several scattered skylight holes letting in tonight's rare red moonlight. Three dozen rows of old benches made of rotting and broken wood were set up around the circumference of the pedestaled center.

We began to file into the room, clustering even more together as we approached the stone steps in the center pedestal with rough edges and a diameter of only ten feet. As the rest of us crowded around, a path was cleared for the leader of this cult, two of his main subordinates, and the young woman to make it onto the stone pedestal.

The two men wrestled the young woman onto the podium and made her kneel, strapping her hands that were already bound with thick rope down to an iron hook imbedded into the stone. Her sobs were punished by hard slaps across her face, leaving her with purple bruised cheeks. Then the men wrapped a ripped strip of thick dingy cloth around her eyes so she could not see for when they committed the deed. They also stuffed a balled-up piece of muddy cloth into her mouth, muffling her weeping.

I was watching her suffer as I blended n with the back of the pack so that no one else notices I was not chanting along with them. Everybody else had their hands folded in prayer as they were reciting words from a long-forgotten language, one that was unfamiliar even to me. While the rest of us had our hoods up covering our heads and eyes, the leader—I think his name was Ocfort Quant—had his hood off, his bald head and dozens of black and red facial magical rune tattoos exposed for all to see. Ocfort stood atop the pedestal at the center of the circle, raised his arms up as if praising the Gods, which signaled for the rest of the group to stop chanting.

"My brothers, my comrades in arms, our night is here." Ocfort began, "The time has finally come. Soon, the Great Lord Gamidalr shall be reborn, and our world shall plunge into a new perfect era. Haza!" He pumps his right fist into the air as he says that last part.