Elven Legacy

Chapter 31

Tessa

She was sat comfortably – or, as comfortably as humanly possible – on her small cot. Frankly, Tessa found the room depressingly bland, and had therefore used helpful tendrils of Karma's magic to proceed to a few changes.

Now, pale wax candles sat atop the nightstand and dresser, all lit, and vases stood on the windowsill bearing freshly-cut yellow blossoms – inula, ligularia, and coneflowers. She'd admired them earlier in some of the front yard gardens along the street and well, she supposed no one would notice if those gardens were missing a few flowers.

The open window allowed in a breeze that became fragrant thanks to the blossoms. The room also smelled of freshly-washed, sun-dried bed sheets and curtain; another change Tessa had thought wise to enact. A different room now comprised less-than-clean sheets instead of hers. A marvelous trick she'd learned from an old journal penned by an anonymous Azurian dark mage.

After these improvements to her room, Tessa had felt twin lines curling, all tingly, down her spine as they appeared. Adding to her growing collection.

Still worth it.

She smiled to herself, leaning back against clean pillows and unfurling the scroll between pale, marked hands. Her arms, bearing some black lines too, were naked up to the shoulders where her night shift's straps broke the sinuous patterns. The wind billowed the curtain, ruffled her hair and caressed her skin – such a relief to be out of her tight clothing and cloak.

Before she started to read, she reached for the glass of chilled water on the nightstand and brought it to her lips, hoping to chase away the bittersweet tang left by the sin vial she'd ingested earlier.

What she'd told Dharkan the night before was the truth. In reasonable doses, it didn't do much to her anymore. She supposed she was somewhat addicted.

She shelved the troublesome thought for later, set down the glass of water, and let her eyes focus on the old, long-dried ink which formed the elegant scrawl of Mikael T'Sherazee.

The Year 937

In the capital city of Chyulin, dark mages walk freely in the streets. More than that: they are celebrated. First of all, I learned that they aren't called dark mages there. It is either Wielders, or, the Demon Blessed. As well, they often walk with their demons loose beside them.

The people of Chyulin have an emblem that can be found on flags and banners, like the golden sun in red background for the Azurians. Like the blue seven-tipped star for the Fellerans. In Chyulin, they have a black crescent moon and black stars over a white background. A reversal of sorts. I was told it's meant to represent the Demon Realm, where everything is different. See, they have no religion, so instead they revere the demons. As an extension of this, they also revere the Demon Blessed, regarding them with admiration, viewing them as almost deities.

A woman at the Chyulin Academy – an assistant to Headmaster Juna Emega – told me that this also serves to explain what happens when people die. They embark on a journey to the other world. As long as they revere, love, serve the demons and the Demon Blessed here in our world, their place will be a prized one in the other realm. Whereas the rest of the world will become the demons' slaves.

This sounded completely insane to me at first, though I did nothing but listen politely and take notes. Later on, though, I would realize that any religion or belief system can sound mad to an outsider. Take the Azurian pantheon, for instance. Over fifty gods and goddesses, all with their intricate backstories, their tales of woe, betrayals and vengeance. All watching over the humans – or playing with us, in the case of the more mischievous gods and goddesses, as if we were pawns on some giant board.