Chapter 4: The High Mage

The deal was this. Chissler wanted to make an example of dissident Elementals in his bid to raise anti-Elemental sentiment. He wanted to get rid of the Lurrannas, but he wanted to do it in a way that was very public and gave his private militia credit for their ultimate defeat. My incentive in willingly taking part in my own demise, the younger members of the clan would be spared, including my son. They would live out their days in subservience to Chissler, taught to fight and kill anyone he disapproved of, especially Elementals. Of course, that would include our fellow Mystics, but for Chissler, I doubt he considered it much of a distinction.

Eramar, Victor, Konamay, and Erica led the contingent of Elementals through the murky metal sewage system. It was quiet. What little sounds could be heard only seemed to deepen the loneliness of their trek. The soft pitter-patter and splashing of dozens of armored boots followed behind him through the filth that covered the ground. The consistent drip, drip, drip of water sprinkling here and there through old, rusted pipes, many in sore need of maintenance. Even the steady rhythm of Eramar’s own heartbeat as he kept his breath level. He could feel the tension of his troops just as surely as he could feel his own. And yes, he was going to consider all of them his troops, Fire and Water Elemental alike. He didn’t know how much that sentiment extended to Erica, or even to Konamay for that matter, but he had to believe that they wanted this alliance to work as much as he did.

The two sensory-type Elementals that he used like trackers stayed just a few paces ahead of Eramar. If there was anything ahead of them, those two would sniff it out long before even the most advanced of mechanical sensors could. Eramar knew a little of how sensing worked. The only people he could sense were other Elementals, and only if they were near him. From what he knew, those of Medical Psionic type with sensing abilities could sense anyone, not just those who could use psions. The really good ones could tell what species of their target, as well as age, gender, and weight. They could even tell what a target had for dinner recently. It worked similarly to the way wild dogs could sniff out prey, but exponentially more potent with an almost radar-like quality.

For instance, sensing didn’t just enhance the five senses, it expanded them, granting those truly skilled knowledge that not even the most observant could tell. This proved especially true in the case of those with Elemency, or close to it like the many sentient races that naturally developed psionic abilities as part of their evolution. For instance, a sensory-type could tell what type of Element one used, what their psionic ability was, and how powerful the Psionic User was with each. They were especially sensitive to anyone actively using Elemency, or even violent actions of any kind that involved any number of weapons. The range of a sensory-type depended on the individual power and skill of the Elemental, but some could track a target a continent away. The Werewolves, who possessed sensing naturally, could track quarries from across star systems. Eramar knew this from his time with Mozar who boasted about his abilities constantly.

Although, there were still drawbacks. Some Elementals possessed knowledge of how to mask their presence from sensory-types, especially skilled Spiritual-types like Eramar himself. And, of course, the terrain could make things difficult as well, like this sewer system deep underground with so much fecal matter and no fresh air to aid them.

Still, despite the difficulty they obviously faced, Carter and Simmons pressed on. By the slight hum of psions that Eramar could feel from them, both were deeply entrenched in their work as they moved forward cautiously. Occasionally, they would come across a fork in the path as multiple tunnels came into a view. The two would pause a moment, then nod to each other in silent consensus and point to a path they said had been travelled recently. How recently, they either didn’t say or didn’t know. Eramar could only perceive a few feet in front of him, even with the infrared systems of his helmet letting him see as if it were daytime. He could only trust that these two young bloods wouldn’t lead him astray. They had already traveled through dozens of divergent paths, and Eramar didn’t think he could find his way back easily if he had to. Of course, he could just teleport himself back to a familiar place, but that wouldn’t be much help to his men. He could only take two or three people with him at a time, and he couldn’t freely open breaches into the Gateway system like some Spiritual-Types could do in order to create portals that others could use.

Suddenly, Carter and Simmons both raised a hand almost simultaneously. They had gone tense. The tunnel lit up as dozens of Elementals summoned their Psionic Weapons, all glowing in hues of red, orange, blue, and green. Their armor glowed brighter in lines of similar colors, indicating psions being raised for battle. Eramar and the other Wielders didn’t summon their weapons. They knew the signal did not mean an ambush, but just to be alert.

The Fire Elemental, Simmons, leaned his red helmet forward to Eramar, speaking quietly. “We can sense Dark Water being used. They are a few miles down that way.” He gestured to the tunnel to their right that was leading down.

Eramar drew in a sharp breath. So, the time has come at last. Time to see what this pampered generation of ours is made of. I can only pray that we measure up to yours, Saria.

“How many?” whispered Victor fiercely.

Simmons shook his head. “It’s hard to say. Maybe fifty who can use Elemency for sure, though it’s unlike any Elemency I’ve ever felt before. It feels ... wrong somehow. Unnatural. It makes me want to puke just sensing the stuff. I can tell it’s Shadow Elemency because it feels like Dark Water, but it’s coming from a person. I think ... I think they feed off the Dark Water to fuel their Elemency.”

His tone sounded haunted, like someone had just walked across his grave. Eramar could hardly blame him. He knew what Dark Water was. The melted bodies and souls of those who fell victim to the Shadow Realm. No one really knew what came first, Dark Water or Shadow Elemency. Dark Water couldn’t be created without using Shadow Elemency on someone in a specific way. But then, Mages used Dark Water in their rituals to enhance their Shadow Elemency. Some even said that they got their powers from it, so the quandary remained.

“Can you sense Cthulhu with them? They would appear as massive amalgamations of Dark Water, though moving around like lifeforms.”

Simmons gave a huff of frustration. “I can’t tell. There’s too much Dark Water and too much Shadow Elemency being used. They might be there, but if so, I don’t think they’re moving.”

“There are others with them. At least a hundred,” chipped in Carter, though mostly directed towards Konamay. “They’re not using Shadow Elemency. I think they’re armed. Hired muscle perhaps?”

“Or hopeful initiates,” muttered Erica angrily.

“Either way, they are our enemies and will be dealt with accordingly,” asserted Konamay gruffly before turning to Eramar in a low tone. “What do you think, friend? Do we go in now or wait for the Patrollers?”

Eramar scowled. He hadn’t counted on so many that could use Shadow Elemency, and having backup besides.

“How long until before the Patrollers can join up with us?”

“I already have them quarantining the surrounding area,” explained Erica. “They can get down here in maybe half an hour.”

“Simmons. Are there any indications that the Mages have sensed our presence?”

Simmons sighed deeply. “I-I can’t tell. They’re moving around a lot, but that could just be their normal undertakings. No way to know if that’s because they’re agitated unless we take a closer look.”

Eramar considered. Half an hour. Not too long. But still, long enough to make a getaway, especially if they have transportation handy. If they got away now, even if they couldn’t get off-world, there was no telling when Eramar would find them again.

As Eramar considered, he heard Zand’s voice speak to him telepathically. Eramar.

Zand! Replied Eramar mentally. We’ve found the Mages. I need to know if we should attack now or wait until –

Before you continue, know that I’m not actually speaking to you. This is a recorded message I left in your psyche.

Eramar frowned, not sure how he felt about Zand rummaging around in his subconscious like that.

This message was designed to activate as you got closer to the Mages. You’re about to enter a portion of the planet where their power holds sway and mine can no longer help you. You will be in grave danger if you proceed further, but I trust you to make the right decision regarding these matters.

Zand’s voice paused as if waiting for Eramar’s response. He almost did so regardless of the fact that Zand wasn’t really speaking to him.

Keep in mind these three things should you choose to attack One, the Mages most likely know you’re coming and have prepared accordingly. However, they may not know exactly when you will arrive, so surprise is still attainable, especially if you’ve gathered a sizable force as quickly as I estimated. Even so, be prepared for a trap.

When Zand spoke again, his voice sounded somewhat guarded. Two, the Mages have an informant among us. Not with your troops, but the same informant who misled Kormal of a possible breach in the Vaults. This informant has most likely already told the Mages about you. Be aware that intel on your abilities has likely been leaked to the enemy.

Eramar almost groaned. That would’ve been helpful to know a little sooner.

And three, the Mages likely have hostages. Keep that in mind in the coming battle. Also, whatever happens, I need you to get that fake Core back. I’ll explain later. If you still choose to go, then go with the Caretaker, my friend. I have already set contingencies in place should this turn into a trap as I suspect.

The message played almost instantly in Eramar’s mind, but he still had to take a few seconds to process everything. Get the fake back. But why? Why would Zand need the fake?

He realized that the others were still waiting on his response eagerly. “Listen to me very carefully. I have reason to believe that the enemy may have a mole among the Ministries that has already informed them of our coming.”

“A mole? Are you saying this is an ambush?” asked Robert Konamay.

“I did tell you that this was likely a trap before we left. The volunteers who came with us understand that as well.”

“So, does the enemy know of us already?” asked Victor.

Eramar shook his head. “I don’t know. They probably know we’re coming, but they may not know when we will arrive. Still, they do have hostages and there is a chance that they may try to escape. Knowing this, I’d suggest we proceed. But as District 9 is under Water Ministry protection, it’s your call.”

The Konamays looked at each other briefly, and then back at Eramar before Erica answered. “Our men know the risks. Besides, we’ve allowed these monsters to murder in our District for too long now. If we don’t deal with them now, it could mean their escape and more deaths later down the road.

“Given their numbers being greater than anticipated,” added Robert Konamay. “I’d recommend sending for Mason as backup. But still, I think we should press on and find out for ourselves what’s going on just to be sure they’re not trying to make a run for it.”

“I agree with my brother,” said Erica. “We call for backup and then move in to assess the situation. We should be able to get a good handle on the battle conditions before the Patrollers arrive and determine whether to strike or not once we have the bastards in our sights. If it comes to that, hopefully we can round them all up before Mason arrives.”

Eramar sensed a touch of concern for the Patroller, Mason, in Erica’s voice. Perhaps too much as to be objective. He would’ve preferred she keep her focus on the current predicament, but she was a seasoned veteran in her own right, so he needn’t voice that opinion. Still, they had reached a consensus far more easily than he had anticipated, and he would not pass that up.

“Alright, we go in. But I want you to keep two things in mind,” said Eramar as he garnered the attention of the whole contingent. “The best way to deal with Shadow Users is in close-quarters. Long-range, their powers usually overcome basic Elemency, but our Psionic Gear is superior to theirs and can offer some resistance to their powers. If the Shadow Elemency appears to be spreading, using separate elements from two different spectrums can have some effect in dousing it.”

Erica seemed a little startled as she said, “I didn’t know you had experience dealing with Shadow Users.”

“I don’t, but the Prime Minister does. He’s told me many times of when he once fought against the Mages,” Eramar replied.

This seemed to satisfy Erica as she went silent.

Eramar switched back to address the rest of the group. “The second thing I want you all to remember is that some of those not using Shadow Elemency might be the hostages. Mages need live prisoners for their ceremonies, so the possibility is high. Pass it along through the ranks to check their targets, especially when dealing with those who can’t use psions.”

Erica nodded, and gave a silent signal to those behind as Eramar’s orders were passed quietly through the ranks via comm systems in their helmets. Eramar waited for a moment for his orders to sink in before he summoned his own blade to himself. The other Wielders followed suit. Konamay summoned his massive double-bladed scythe, its blades glowing hypnotically in shades of blue and green, one color for each blade. Eramar had to admit that seeing that deadly weapon again brought the willies. Even though it would be used to his benefit this time, it was one of the few weapons that came close to killing him, and he would not soon forget that.

Victor summoned a spear to himself with a single-edged curved blade that was almost as long as a sword. Attached to the spear point was a red ribbon that flowed like a snake through the air with every flourish of the shaft. Though Eramar would never reveal it without Victor’s express permission, he knew that the ribbon was the real secret behind Victor’s attacks, at least in close-quarters. The blade glowed with an orange light with glowing runes tracing down the shaft which was made of a black and gold metal alloy. Even though the blade was the only place that could cut, the rest of the spear had been spelled in such a way to stand up against Psionic Weapons, leaving no vulnerable areas. In fact, those runes caused extreme pain if anyone besides Victor tried to hold the spear. Eramar knew this from experience when he tried to play a prank on Victor during their younger years. Many Elementals did the same kind of warding on their weapons, but Victor’s spear had a particular bite to it, as if it had been warded against Eramar specifically. Though to be fair, Eramar used to steal the spear on a regular basis before Victor spelled it.

Lastly, Erica Konamay summoned her own Psionic Weapon. Twin daggers that she held with the blades held down, one glowing blue, one glowing green. The strange thing about the daggers was the fact that the silver metal handles were actually longer than the blades themselves which seemed puny even for daggers, almost like an afterthought in the weapons’ design. This was the first time that Eramar would get the chance to see Erica in battle. He had always heard of her prowess given the number of victories under her belt, but very little was known about her personal fighting style. The Water Ministry went to great pains into hiding the abilities of their top-ranked Elementals like Erica and Robert Konamay. Eramar thought that there must be some kind of trick to her weapons, perhaps working in conjunction with her element or psionic ability somehow. He would’ve asked her about it so that they could work better as a unit, but she had another agenda.

“I know all of your abilities inside and out, so that will do for now,” she said as if reading his mind. “Well, almost all. Though given Wielder Harock’s weapon of choice, I can guess at his overall fighting style.”

Victor snorted, but she seemed not to hear him.

As she spoke, she worked idly on her wrist communicator attached to her armor’s gauntlet which served a number of functions, even offering some radar-like abilities. “Simmons, Carter. As we approach, I’ll keep on the lookout for any conventional type of booby traps with my scanner so that you may focus on the Dark Water. Everyone else, focus on those with no psionic abilities, directing us to their positions if need be.”

The other sensory-types nodded behind her, peering around them as if expecting the enemies to come at them through the walls, which they very well might. From what Eramar heard, Shadow Elemency offered strange abilities to its users, perhaps even more varied than all the elements and psionic abilities combined. Just as they were gearing up to go, Victor leaned towards Erica, his red helmet glowing slightly with golden feathers at his ears.

“I assume you have a few Screamers handy to dampen our footsteps?”

Erica sniffed, and Eramar could just picture her smug smirk under her helmet. “Do you really need to ask?”

She gestured with her fingers, and a couple Water Elementals stepped forward. Eramar could already feel them using Elemency. A very subtle form of Elemency known only to the Screamers who could manipulate sound. Even as they sprinted into a dead sprint through a water-strewn floor, no sound could be heard. The Screamers were absorbing all vibrations in the air to make for a completely silent approach.

Fortunately, sound could still be heard in their helmets as one of the sensory-types spoke into the comm unit. “Two sentries coming up around the next turn to the left in twenty meters.”

“I’ve got ‘em,” said Victor grimly.

Erica sniffed into the comm unit, almost petulantly as if jealous that Victor would get the first kill.

Victor then jumped forward in a burst of speed almost too fast to track, bounding ahead of the group and rounding the corner. From the soft ripples that disturbed the waters up ahead, Eramar knew that Victor had succeeded. The Elementals didn’t even break stride as they followed Eramar around the corner, careful not to step on the two bodies that littered their path. He only spared a quick look at the sentries as he passed. Both human, mid to late thirties wearing gray trench coats and rubber boots. By their clothing and cheap firearms, they might’ve been street toughs from a local gang. They both had matching tattoos of ravens on their cheeks, most likely indicative of some gang custom of the local crime lords.

Victor was already running alongside Eramar, and Erica gave him an incredulous stare without breaking stride. “So, as I suspected, you’re a Physical-Type like my brother.”

Konamay grunted next to his sister. “And here I was thinking you were too skinny to be a Beater. Still, I’d bet you’re more of a Runner, putting more focus into speed rather than strength.”

“How observant of you, Water Wielders,” said Victor somewhat sarcastically.

Eramar knew Victor’s peculiar abilities were a bit more complicated than that, but he wasn’t about to reveal the man’s secret. Victor could be as secretive and paranoid as Water Elementals sometimes. Though, if they had just looked at his legs when he jumped ahead earlier, they would’ve realized their mistake.

After a few minutes, they slowed their sprint when Simmons and Carter indicated they were close. They had to deal with two more sentries, these ones silenced by Erica who sniffed at Victor defiantly as if they were in some kind of competition. Eramar caught a glimpse of the Water Wielder as she dealt with the sentries, both with similar tattoos and clothing as the previous two. She had killed them both before they even had a chance to raise their energy rifles. She was quick. Not quite quick on her feet enough to be a Runner, but close. What was most fascinating was how she moved, ducking out of the sentries’ line of sight before they could get a bead on her. That could indicate a number of different psionic abilities, or even a couple elements. Though Eramar would just have to content himself with puzzling out her abilities later.

The sentries had been circling a large balcony that overlooked some kind of arena above and below them. Several waterfalls of filth ran down almost like pillars from the top of the arena that went up into the darkness to who knew how far up. At this point, they were many miles below the surface of the planet, so there was no way of telling how far the arena went, Fortunately, the arena didn’t go too far down from where they stood. From his vantage point, Eramar could see dozens of figures shuffling down below. The figures all wore dark robes with long, pointed hoods obscuring their heads. After a closer look, Eramar could tell that the figures also wore masks, white masks completely bare of any features save for a symbol where the eyes should’ve been, a symbol that looked like curved scissors facing downward.

The cloaked figures were walking around pools of frothing, black liquid that churned as if alive. Eramar had seen Dark Water before, but not in such huge quantities. What little Dark Water he had seen was contained in tiny bottles held by Mystics that he had fingered out over the years. His understanding was that one single soul could only create a small amount. The numbers required to make these pools would have to be in the hundreds at least, perhaps even in the thousands. Eramar shuddered at how he and his fellow Elementals had failed the people of Tarrus to allow this terror to fester in the very heart of their capital planet.

There were several levels of balconies below the one they stood on, and each one sported more armed guards who patrolled in a fashion that implied at least some military discipline. This made Eramar think that perhaps they had a few ex-militia training them. The cloaked figures who could only be Mages suddenly stopped their circling of the Dark Water pools and stood stark still like statues. In the center of their gathering, a podium rose up out of the floor to float a few feet above their heads. Atop the podium stood another Mage with his hands outstretched before him. He did not wear a mask, but from what Eramar could see of the man’s face, he wished the Mage would cover his visage like the others.

The creature, though Eramar didn’t doubt the man was human, or at least was at some point, made for a ghastly sight. Both eyeballs had been removed leaving nothing but black holes where the eyes should’ve been. Given the archaic practices that Mages were reputed for, self-mutilation being one of the most prominent, he reasoned that the eyes had been removed surgically by the madman himself. The man’s skin was deathly white, and seemed too pale to belong to that of a living being. It was smooth and slimy, almost like marble. Eramar had heard that Mages often led two lives, one relatively normal as they went about working daily jobs, the other in darkness. However, given the horrible disfigurement this man had inflicted on himself, he doubted this creature could ever live a normal life outside of this rank sewer. He was a fully committed zealot, more creature than man.

“They don’t seem aware of our presence,” whispered Konamay, his voice eager with the anticipation of battle almost equal to that of a Saurian. “We should take them now and save the Patrollers whatever horror comes of dealing with this lot.”

“Wait a moment,” said Eramar holding up his hand. “It’s been centuries since any intel of Mages has been acquired. From the look of things, we’ve stumbled upon some kind of formal ceremony. Let’s take the opportunity to get our troops in position for a pincer strike, surrounding them on all sides and cutting off all exits. In the meantime, we can observe what we’re up against and still take them well before the Patrollers get here. And have the Screamers filter the sound so we can hear what they say, but they can’t hear us.”

Konamay seemed like he wanted to object, but his sister beat him to punch as she sidestepped in front of him. “Fine, we’ll do it your way for now. But your curiosity better not get my men killed.” The near playfulness she displayed so readily could no longer be heard in her tone.

“Our men, Lady Konamay,” retorted Eramar testily. “There are more than Water Elementals at risk here.”

“Remember this, kids,” said Victor chidingly, addressing the whole contingent. “No large-scale Elemency. In fact, no elements at all if you can help it. Use your Psionic Weapons as much as possible, and only precise, pinpoint strikes with your elements. Otherwise, we could compromise the integrity of this place with large-scale water and fire attacks. That goes double for you ‘mister collateral damage’.” Victor finished by pointing an accusatory finger at Eramar’s faceplate.

Eramar snorted as he was fairly certain Victor’s love of destruction was a match for any Elemental, but he decided not to argue the point.

With a silent circular motion, the fifty or so Elementals fanned out to cover all around the arena. It was almost too good a setup to be true. Here, they had an entire balcony to themselves with all their enemies below them. They were in the perfect position to strike from secured placements without even the need for close-quarters combat. All the guards seemed concentrated on the levels below them, and the Mages were all gathered on the ground floor. The Elementals were distinguishable in their helmets, glowing in the bright colors of their Ministry, though their armor and weapons no longer glowed to the naked eye to maintain stealth. A convenient tool so there could be no friendly fire among the Elementals.

And yet, despite all these advantages, Eramar still felt a vague sense of danger, and he wasn’t completely sure if it all came from the Dark Water or not. Although he was not a sensory-type, Eramar could feel the Dark Water churning below. Even if he couldn’t see it, he’d know it was there. It felt like evil. There was no other word to describe it. Death, murder, and despair all wrapped into one writhing mass. As soon as his troops were in position around the perimeter, he decided that he’d give the order to attack, regardless of what they could find out from this ceremony. In fact, that forbidding feeling was so overwhelming that he quite nearly jumped the gun and attacked himself, but a loud call from one of the Mages gave him pause.

“All members bow for the High Mage,” commanded a masked Mage standing below the floating platform where the leader still stood. His voice came through clearly, aided by the Screamer’s efforts.

Acting in unison, the fifty or so Mages prostrated themselves before the High Mage who hovered above them like a taskmaster overlooking his slaves. They never looked up, but the High Mage gave a slight crook of his finger, and they all stood up as one. How they knew when to stand was beyond Eramar’s guess.

“Brothers! Sisters! Denizens of Darkness,” said the High Mage, who had stood silently until now, watching the other members. His voice sounded softer and more high-pitched than Eramar had imagined, almost like a woman’s voice. “We give praise to the Lord Corrupter, the judger of souls, imprisoner of the damned. And we salute his herald, the Desolate One. The one who will bring about the Great Reckoning. The one who will have his revenge on this corporeal realm. May his malevolence endure until oblivion comes. Shaitar Gron Nox!” The last he said with a slight flourish of his robes while spreading his arms out dramatically, like a grandfather expecting a hug from his grandchildren.

The last phrase he spoke was one unfamiliar to Eramar, though it sounded Draconian to him. Perhaps one of the many dialects of the Black Dragons. However, he hardly needed a translation as the assembled Mages all spoke the meaning in a loud voice. “All things Succumb to Darkness!”

“The Dark Dragon Lords are pleased with our efforts. Despite all odds, we have established a coven within striking distance of our enemy’s abominable Monastery, and right under the nose of their supposedly all-powerful Light Wielder. In time, they shall be made to pay for their transgressions against the true faith ... without even a chance to convert. May their souls writhe in agony for all eternity within Shaivere Groguul! May their anguish provide nourishment for Crig Cortan, the sons and daughters of the Lord Corrupter! Shaitar Gron Nox!”

“All things Succumb to Darkness,” echoed the Mages in one voice.

Eramar didn’t need a translation for the other strange words he heard. They had been on the lips of almost every Mystic he’d caught in his life. Crig Cortan was an ancient name for Shadow Wraith, the gods that the Mages worshipped who fed off the pain and suffering of all sentient life. The Shadow Wraiths were also the sworn enemies of the Light Wraiths. Shaivere Groguul was another word for the Realm of Shadow, the mirror universe where the Shadow Wraiths dwelled. It was said that the Shadow Realm was even more vast than the physical universe, stretching into different versions of reality into what some scholars believed to be a multiverse – but that was too meta for Eramar’s way of thinking.