Maji Born

01 - The Wrong Steps

Devarak pressed into the slab wall, watching the flickering torchlight withdraw down the elongated corridor. It vanished from sight, blinking out as it rounded the next bend. He allowed himself a moment to breathe before peeling himself away from the wall and advancing up the hallway. Continuing along his premeditated path.

He met few obstacles, which did nothing to quell the feeling of anxiety that had begun to grow inside him. The castle was unaffected by his presence. His task was considerable and more complex than any he had previously undertaken.

Devarak took in the visage of the double doors that guarded the throne room. He stood in suspense, stealing himself to proceed. Hesitantly, he approached the doors and pressed his ear against the cold oak.

There was no noise from within the room beyond. That had to be a good sign. Devarak glanced down at the slight gap between the door and floor. No light crept through.

He depressed the handle, and opened one of the doors a hair, praying that it was well oiled.

A muffled squeal emitted from the hinges. It was better than he could have hoped for. He doubted it would be enough to draw the patrol's attention. He opened it a fraction more and slipped through, shutting it securely behind him.

Upon entering the chamber, Devarak had to pause, letting his eyes adjust to the change in lighting.

At the far end, three large windows let in soft moonlight, and by the angle of the lemony glow, Devarak could tell that it was nearing midnight.

Better get a move on.

The castle would be rising in a few hours, preparing for the anticipated festivities and Devarak wanted to be clear of the capital before that time.

He surveyed the room, his eyes catching every detail in the shadowed stonework, every small illustration in the stained glass window panes.

After inspection, his gaze fell on the large auspicious throne at the top of the dais. He strode toward it, taking the shallow steps two at a time. Devarak paused momentarily to inspect the throne itself, recognizing the small gems embedded in the arms and back as Albrit and Selwin, a dangerous combination.

He ran a finger over the golden arm of the seat, letting it skirt over the gemstones. For a moment his attention drifted, "This is yours, never forget it." He pulled away from the cold metal and grasped for the small pendant he wore. He held onto his shard of Albrit; it was the only thing he had kept when he had fled.

Devarak recoiled from the throne, a flicker of pain escaping his amber eyes. He pushed the feeling away, focusing his attention instead on the wall beyond.

A generous case was mounted at eye level, floating several feet up the wall. Devarak stepped toward it, giving the throne a wide berth as he did so. When he reached the case he ran his hand along the smooth fir frame seeking a hidden locking mechanism.

As his finger searched so did his eyes, connecting each item within the case with the information he had received.

Hanging against the back of the case was a modest compass composed of polished silver, adorned with two mirrored ravens, a gift to Midais from Zedar. Cushioned on a small silk pillow was a set of emerald drop earrings. They were simple in design, but Devarak's keen eyes made out the small sigil, a swirling sun from Tupre, etched into the stones themselves.

Lying at the bottom of the case was the long curved scimitar which had been gifted to Midais by Diok at the end of the Brisark War. It was thin as paper but by the looks of it extremely sharp. Devarak had studied all three items during his preparations for his mission; reading about them was one thing, seeing them was another. He felt drawn toward them, which made sense since each contained strong Majik.