The Guardian Chronicles: The Shadow Alliance

Blade Mancer No More

Blade Mancer No More

    At Ashlizon Monastery, Drannoth opened his eyes and felt like he had been asleep for years. He was filled with a warm feeling, he could tell that his arm was completely healed and so was the wound on his head. He sat up and moved his arm. He could move it just as before, he thought it might have even been a little bit stronger. In his heart was an even better healing, all the hate and fear was gone. The hold the Mancers had on him was gone, Gerta was right…he was free. It was odd that the full strength of a decade of Mancer training could be undone in one day by the compassion of a girl.

    Drannoth closed his eyes and smiled, he thought he was beginning to understand how the power of the Guardians and their friends outweighed that of the Mancers and Chosen. Their powers were deeper than just their weapons and bravery. There was something more to it, something deeper and harder to understand then the raw brutality of the Mancers and their ilk.

    Drannoth stood and took off the sling they had made for him. He then reached up and untied the strip of Gerta’s hem. He looked at it, his blood had stained it. He folded it up and put it in his pocket. He was going to save it, to remind himself of what had happened. He was not sure what he was going to do next, he heard footsteps and looked up; it was the Sansar. He held a long, thin object that was wrapped in blue silk.

    He nodded slowly at Drannoth, “I am glad to see you up. You have slept for nearly two days.”

    “I am sorry…I did not mean to sleep so long.” Drannoth said and then looked down at the floor.

    “You slept for a reason. Your body, mind and heart needed time to heal. Now they have all healed and you are ready.” The Sansar said and crossed his arms.

    “For what?” Drannoth asked.

    “Your new life now begins. You are no longer Drannoth the Blademancer; you are now Drannoth and you must find your place now. I have invited someone here who will be of great help with that.”

    The Sansar took a step to the side and a tall man in long dark gray and purple robes came into the room. The man had closely cut gray hair and a long nose. He had sleepy looking blue eyes and he had a very light mustache. He had his hands clasped in front of him and he looked at Drannoth with a kind look in his eyes.

    He smiled, “Hello Drannoth. My name is Jonthan Garl. I believe that you know who I am.” His voice had the kind of nobility that comes only from extraordinary sacrifice.

    Drannoth’s eyes went wide. Among the Mancers, Garl was a near legendary figure. He achieved heights and powers few had ever dreamed of. He discovered techniques of Mancing that strengthened every Necromantic creature, from the simple Ravenous to the complex and powerful Rarzgar. They say he had killed more Guardians and their friends than any had Mancer in the previous century.

    But what he had done next was the greatest shock…he just quite. He left the Mancers and began to fight alongside the Guardians. He was the founder of the only other group on Veru that used Necro energy, the Nechrons. Some called them the “Good Mancers” but they no longer used their powers to sculpt the races of Veru into twisted monsters, they used them to combat the Mancers. But, they were very few in number if they existed at all. Many though, were sure that he was just a myth and nothing more; a Mancer boogeyman.

    Drannoth gasped, “You…but how can this be…I-I thought you were just a rumor…”

    Garl laughed, “And yet…here I am. I have come a long way to see you Drannoth. I came as soon as the Sansar contacted me.”