Theurgy: The Citadel of Light (Book Three)

Chapter 6 An Unwanted Guest

Magevo stood on the shoreline of the Lastos island chain. This island was a poor sight on the high seas. Barly was it covered in any sort of vegetation, a sparse thicket at its center populated by oak and olive trees rather lush for the late summer. That contrast, of course, with the coarse, rough brown hills and rocky outcroppings that covered most of the surface. Most sailors would maybe stop here to look around to forage some of the natural resources, chop down some trees for wood, and be on their way. Though it was an island Torlak had control over for much of its existence, it had never taken the time to properly settle the place, so even on occasions, people from the Acirfan island nations to their south would make temporary settlements here. That all changed about a decade ago when a Torlakian explorer decided to use this place as a shelter to study sea monsters in the area. And as he explored the islands, he began uncovering some strange occurrences. Accounts report strange spirits, souls of the dead, to appear in significant numbers near the center of the island amid the small forest it harbored. Necromancers dated these souls to be about three thousand years old. Far older than either Torlak, their parent nation Hasnia. That could only mean it came from their ancestors, the mysterious Carians of Caria. And using the information gathered from these spirits, they managed to find a single ruin, or that is what they thought until it was uncovered that the single stone building was actually the top of a much more grand temple. A temple at the heart of a city that had indeed sunk along with much of the islands. Mysteriously only a small area around the temple was saved from the crashing waves, encased inside a dome of earth.

After that finding, the Torlakian government officially took control over the entire island and sponsored several exploratory expeditions to uncover the secrets of this place. The Blue Rose, The Red Guard, the Silver Taurus, the Solar Dragons, and the Dark Vigor have all had their turns scavenging what could be found, making solid ground, and mapping out much, but not all. Not until about a week ago.

Magevo stopped as he approached the forest. Here, there were signs of past encampments, some tents left from a hasty retreat. About a week ago, two guilds, the Silver Taurus and Dark Vigor were both contracted in a joint operation. Not uncommon, it's optimal to have more prominent groups to reduce the risk of failure or casualties. And the Silver Taurus, perhaps one of the most respected guilds in eastern Torlak, has gotten contracts in other joint operations in previous years. So, of course, Torlakian officials thought this to be no different. But there was indeed conflict. Reports are muddled and accusations tossed everywhere, but from what reports have told him, the Silver Taurus attempted to restrict access to the ruins from Dark Vigor, which led to an altercation. Both guilds are under investigation. And in the meantime, he was here.

He sighed as he approached the center of this encampment. The circular opening had been widened significantly to allow many people to enter at once. Below, the very bottom was well-lit with artificial lighting. The tunnel leading further is carved perfectly by stone mages, reinforced over the years, but even hear, there was structural damage from this encounter. More than likely, this was where the Silver Taurus denied access to the inner ruins. Magevo knew the master of their guild, Derrick Hugo Rawlins. His father led the guild before him, unfortunately passing about a decade ago in the war thusly passing the title to his son. Magevo had pegged the man a patient yet stern fellow, always expecting the best of people, but never blaming one for weakness, and very diplomatic. Magevo can not imagine an occasion where one should come to blows with such a man and for him to be the instigator in all of this?

Magevo sighed. "Just what am I looking for here?"

He finally arrived at the end of the tunnel. The section of ruins they managed to completely clear was a sprawl of what looked like government buildings, nothing one would assume to be residential or living spaces for the common folk of these ancient people—especially the larger building at the far end of this long, wide road. Giant stone pylons were the only obstruction, the road had cleared of debris long ago, and many of the buildings adjacent along it were completely robbed of whatever value from previous expeditions. Magevo himself, on occasion, would read reports just in case they found anything relating to the old magics. As he looked about, he felt like a time traveler, displaced in an era so foreign yet familiar, a template for all he knows, and yet so alien. Perhaps this was the blood of the adventurer that still lingers within, a part of his old self not held back by duty to his country, only to test the limits of his magic. Already has he mastered three separate arts, already has he crowned himself the king of spell crafting; what more can he be?