Theurgy: The Citadel of Light (Book Three)

Chapter 15 Two Halves

 "Are you sure this is the meeting area?" The captain surveyed the island coast where they were meant to pick up the council member. Of course, the captain knew very well the nature of this particular councilman. Save for the grandmaster himself, he is among the most enigmatic figures of Mage society, a savant in all things alchemy and a keen interest in their ancient history. If he wasn't a councilman, the captain could see Magevo as a worthwhile historian or archeologist. But due to his status, he is rather restrained when and where he is allowed to go. This was not the first time he had been sent to retrieve the councilman from some distant land, and he was confident that these times would not end very soon. However, the talk about this particular location provided him with some interest. The two guilds were assigned to protect these ruins. Turning on each other and requiring the intervention of the councilman in the first place. The captain wiped away a bead of sweat from his scratchy chin, not a testament to the humid weather. He picked up his telescope, extending it to its limit and using the enhanced lens for a more focused look. Much to his surprise, he could see things already on the shore. What looked like large boxes and bundles and bags littered the sandy beach. He continued scanning the shore in the sign of the councilman until he heard footsteps and a rise in alarm among his men. And just as he turned his telescope around, he was looking directly in the face of Councilman Magevo.

"Sir!" the captain exclaimed as he dropped the enhanced telescope onto the deck, taking a step back in surprise as Magevo stood at the smoking spot he appeared at. The captain cleared his threat and saluted, regaining his posture. "A pleasure to meet with you once more. We shall make shorefall in due time to retrieve whatever you wish."

Something was wrong in the councilman's eyes. In past encounters, the captain remembered this unfocused, almost scatterbrained demeanor from Magevo, a man with so much to say but with one mouth. But the councilman did not greet the captain or begin to bluster about his findings to the older man. Instead, he turned and leaned on the railings, looking at the small island, then back to the horizon. His expression was worrisome. But after a few moments of uncertain silence, he spoke softly.

"Retrieve all the material I managed to collect on the beach," he said, standing and walking back past the captain. "There are also prisoners there. Remnants of the guilds who attacked me. I suggest alerting the Ravens to come and collect them."

"Yes, sir," the captain said, still bewildered by Magevo's sparse words. His curiosity pierced his uneasiness as he looked back at the island. "What exactly did you find on that island, captain?"

Magevo let out a long sigh as his body began to emit tiny sparks of electricity, his form becoming a hazy image of blue light. "I'm afraid . . . I don't quite know what I found."

And like that, he was gone in a flash that left some unprepared men disoriented; the councilman was gone, leaving another scorching mark where he had once been. The captain's anxiety was far from quelled by such a vague statement, looking back at the shore with all those crates. What exactly had the councilman come across to cause him to act so?

(X)

Vermillia looked around a corner as she assessed the enemies before her. Memories flooded back from her past lives. As she saw these men, their armor, their weapons, their faces, she was brought back to a time unlike this and a battle. As soon as Massia expressed fatigue, she sought the opportunity to take control. Just thirty minutes later, the girl made her promise. Well, Vermillia will take full advantage of what little time she has. She rarely had to be at the fore of this shared mind. As their spirits ever mingled, she found that the desire to dominate the body waned, but her calling as a warrior still called to her as it would any. However, she could not help but pity these poor souls. Like them, she was denied a true afterlife in Hades, instead bound to the power of their host. In her case, Ares is the god of war whom she championed through many campaigns in her long life. And to these souls, a man she knew was worth that devotion. Body and soul. But as he looked at them now, she saw nothing but slaves. Mindless tools that fought only to fight, obeying the whim of some deity that cared not for the honor and glory of their sacrifices in life. They slaughtered without care for the innocence of their foes. It was the worst part of the war for Vermillia. The parts she so utterly despised. Bloodshed without purpose. In those dark days, the final days of gods and man, she saw such fighting on a scale none should bear witness. If Talin had their way, she would be like all the other Makhai, mindlessly following the whim of a master they will never know.