The youngest ArchMage: Prologue
#5 of Aeurn
This is the prelude to the second book I wrote regarding the World of Aeurn and the anthropomorphic beings that dwell here.
Please note that in my previous book, a couple of items of history have had to have their names changed due to danger of copyright infringement. The Elvenar (the mysterious race prior to the beast-kin) have been changed to 'Elvari' and Magicite is now Magerium since another book has used that name.
These books are still being worked on and more content is being added as time permits, so don't be surprised if there are more changes down the road.
The Youngest Arch-mage
Part two of the World of Aeurn series
Written by Red William
Prologue
King Gaylen felt the familiar presence and felt his body shudder at the meeting. He was in the altar he had made in a small room adjacent to his bedroom where he would go to privately worship the Maker, hoping he would one day hear the familiar voice that he had known so long ago.
He had been agonizing over reports of conspiracy; local lords and cities showing growing discontent and seeking to consolidate their own powers in their own kingdoms. It wasn't a direct attack against him though. Gaylen's reign had been peaceful for the past sixty years since the end of the great dragon war with the Lizard-kin and their dragon masters, and most everyone now had all but forgotten the heroism of the Illuminarian army and it's champion. A champion they knew as the God-King, the horse-kin warrior Palador Goldenmane. The very same being he was praying to hear from tonight.
"You came, old friend." Gaylen spoke into the air.
"I have, Yohan."
No one had used his real name in decades--not since the dragon wars when he was just Prince Yohan. Not until his father betrayed the one who the Maker sent to them to save Aeurn. He was willing to give the crown to that hero then but he was instead given the name of Gaylen the Sixth. He would be the final king to bear the name of their ancestor who united the tribes of beast-kin into the kingdom now known as Illuminaria.
Tilting his head upwards, King Gaylen saw a vision of a beast-kin more profound and familiar than he had ever seen. A regal white horse-kin warrior, clad in golden mail stood in front of the altar, his eyes blazing as if the light of Urthurniel, the divine realm, was coming from his sockets. Seven star-like orbs orbited around his head and his golden mane seemed to dance to an unknown wind.
"Palador. My Lord!" Gaylen spoke reverently and quickly lowered his head in subjugation. He was seeing the embodiment of the Maker--the rightful son and true God-king of Aeurn--and also the being he once called friend and brother.
In Palador's earthly life, he was a simple Blacksmith's son who was conscripted into the King's army. It was there that his true destiny came as he rose to the ranks with both his might in battle, but his emerging divine power. He even fought with Malegurn the betrayer, the dragon of Chaos at the end of that battle, only to be betrayed by a traitor's poison blow-dart. Still, Palador not only fought back the dark dragon, but in an act of final divine power, severed the southern tip of the continent from the mainland of Illuminaria, creating the rift of Exile.
It was later that Yohan learned that the traitor mouse-kin, Isthrum had been offered a king's ransom to betray Palador by his own father. At the funeral, Yohan called out the then-king for his betrayal of the hero. There would have been civil war in Illuminaria for the first time ever had it not been for Palador's body, which had already been subjected to the funeral pyre, arose from the flames, his body restored into the likeness that he now saw in the small stone altar room.
"Raise your head, King Gaylen." Palador commanded in a tone that sounded calm and friendly, "Stand before me as you once did, my companion."
Gaylen obeyed, rising up and gazing into the eyes of the God-king. Though Gaylen was a rabbit-kin, seeing Palador made him feel like the size of a mouse-kin before this imposing figure of divinity.
"It has been too long, my Lord." Gaylen spoke with the utmost devotion, "I have done all I can in your name, and yet I still feel like there is so much to do."
Kneeling down, Palador smiled as he rested his powerful hand on the king's shoulder.
"I have been pleased with all you done for the sake of the Maker, Yohan. You have nothing to regret now."
The words caused Gaylen's heart to skip a beat, "Does...this mean...It is my turn to return to your kingdom?"
Palador shook his head, "Not quite yet, King Gaylen. What I will tell you now shall be as sweet as honey, but as bitter as blood."
The King was both anxious and elated to hear the words from his Lord and true High-King, because he knew that these words would be coming from the lips of the Maker himself.
"Do you remember what I told you about those that would come after me?" Palador began.
"Y-yes." Gaylen stammered, "You spoke of those we know as the Twice-born." He recalled how Palador, on numerous occasions referred to such individuals and that they would appear in Aeurn after the war was ended.
"One of those now dwells in Aeurn."
Gaylen's jaw dropped. He had heard nothing about such things, even from his trusted adviser. Jotham, the royal arch-mage had been keeping his ears tuned to rumors of such a being and even the prophecy was kept secret to avoid any unwanted attention. They had worried about some noble or even a low-born to suddenly stir up the people calling themselves the twice-born and causing discontent among the people. Now such a being was on Aeurn and it meant change was coming to the realm.
"Who is this Twice-born, Master?" Gaylen asked, "How will we know him?"
"Jotham is already with him now. As I speak, he is coming to King's rest with your daughter at his side."
Trestia was involved as well? Jotham had been acting as tutor to the princess since it seemed improper for a member of the royal court to go to academy like the other nobles and low-born mages.
"He never told me." Gaylen spoke anxiously, "Jotham should have told me."
"He had his reasons, Yohan. Even now forces of Chaos are gathering, and your rule will end in war."
Palador's words stung. The God-king had declared that Gaylen would be the last of the line of Gaylen's kingship, but even then he had hoped his son, Eomund would assume the crown under his own name and continue the royal line.
"What should I do then, My Lord?" Gaylen asked the divine being.
"The Twice-born shall know many things despite his youth, for he has already lived a life prior to this one. Treat him not as a boy but neither treat him as an adult, for you will only brew suspicion. Keep him close and let him do as he wishes, for when the time comes, he will know what he must do."
"And what of my children? What role do they play in all this?"
Palador looked down at Gaylen, his face turning somber and sympathetic.
"Oh, Yohan. If it was the will of my father, I would spare you what is to come. This much I will tell you--one child shall play the fool and to utter ruin. The other shall remain and yet shall serve. In this, I will spare the line for the sake of my beloved Gaylen and for you. But these things you will not see, for I have numbered the days of your kingdom. Before these things come to pass I will call you back to my side."
A rainbow of emotions cascaded into the King's countenance. Elation that he would indeed return to the side of his creator, fear for both his children, fear of the unknown of this twice-born who somehow will play a part in this drama, and pity for twice-born himself for his future.
King Gaylen the Sixth lowered his head once again and clasped his hands together. "Let it be as the Maker fashions. I am his creation and he is my creator. Let his will be done."
Palador stood up and his body began to glow a bright radiance, "Well said, Yohan. Because you have spoke in faith, known that your line will continue. When you see the Twice-born, you will understand all that I have told you. Do not seek your own path, but follow the will of the Maker, King Gaylen, and he will preserve the blood of your ancestors for centuries to come."
The King shielded his eyes as the radiance of Palador shone through the altar. Despite closing his eyes the light seemed to seep through and yet it did not blind him. Then as suddenly as it burst forth, the light faded, leaving only the torches around the altar to give light.
Blinking, Gaylen focused on the Altar where Palador stood, only to find him gone and the altar untouched.
One shall be made a fool and to ruin.
Gaylen, not knowing whether his son or daughter would bear such a destiny, knelt down at the altar and wept for both.
Elsewhere, a shadowy figure sat in a darkened room, a single candle flame illuminating the desk the figure sat next. Rifling through several parchments, the figure inwardly scowled.
I don't like this,_she thought inwardly, _I do not like this lack of information.
Alwyn Duvane, the son of Elrik Duvane, Duke of Thornbriar. While not the greatest of the fiefdoms under the current rule of Gaylen the Sixth, Duke Elrik ruled well and thoughtfully. There was no lineage in his pedigree that was noteworthy; he even didn't have any level of talent for magic.
Yet here was his 13 year old son--and based on the reports sent--exuded not only an above average intelligence, but suddenly was found to have a uniquely high talent for magic.
Going through the reports, the shadowy figure frowned. The reports were reliable: they had to be in her line of work, and this slip up in intelligence was unacceptable. How did a young boy with such potential slip through her fingers so easily? The new reports coming in noted that Alwyn was an athletic boy, excelling in trained combat as well as knowledge in math, history and natural lore. He had bested his own trainer and the Thornbriar guards--not a small feat especially for one so young.
He had even shown a level of culinary talent from the servants in the castle. Strange recipes that actually had some practical uses: like this 'hamburger' for one. The strange use of rolls to hold meat and condiments in a portable meal was surprisingly simple yet practical. The new idea had been spread as far out as Orynth in the northwest where the residents of that Elvari ruins thought the idea was convenient for the archaeologists there.
The shadowed figure leaned back in her chair and ruminated. This was too much conflicting information. She had known that there were patterns and paradigms that the denizens of this world fell into; yet, this boy was breaking those patterns. He had a level of maturity that went against his age, and knew and did things that even older, wiser beast-folk wouldn't do.
There was no doubt in her mind though: the boy was talented. Had she learned about this boy's uniqueness, she would have had him recruited for her organization. She bit on her claw, thinking how this youthful bunny-kin noble was being wasted by being in that worthless mage academy.
"Fools." she spoke openly, "They don't know what a mind like that boy could be used for." Yet he was now out of her reach; stuck in the hands of that idiot old mage Jotham.
Everything now rested in one agent--Umbra. She was one of her best spies and rogues, a talented con-artist and infiltrator. She had already sent her out to get close to Alwyn and find out more. Now, with all this new material, she realized that this boy was more than he appeared.
"Alwyn Duvane." The figure spoke into the shadows, "You will be mine."