Chapter I - The Order

 

Chapter I – The Order

          The slowly dying sky is painted in a deep, russet color as it set in the distant horizon. The air is crackling with power as two hooded figures appear from out of the distance, both surrounded by an aura, one blue, one red. As the sun sets behind them, Aeron asks,

“You know nightfall is quickly approaching, right?”

“Yes I do. But it is all ok. We are here” Kenon replies, stopping in his tracks on the edge of a cliff face.

“Where is here?” Aeron inquires, sarcastically, “There’s nowhere to go.”

“Here,” Kenon says turning, raising a hand out past the edge, “is the Order of Mages”

Out of the black of the quickly approaching night, shadows start to dance around in the air in front of them, revealing all at once a magnificent stone citadel sitting a hundred feet in front of them on an enormous cone-shaped platform of rock floating in the sky. In the oncoming dusk, fog surrounds the hovering city, sending the shadows fleeting all about it. A wondrous stone bridge is stretched across the vast distance between the fortress and the threshold where the cliff dives down into the abyss. Flaming torches light themselves in pairs as they progress across the bridge toward the two standing in darkness.

Kenon leads the way across the now fully illuminated bridge, as Aeron follows in silent amazement and awe. The castle-like fortress extends hundreds of feet into the pitch black night sky as dozens of spires stretch effortlessly upward.

 

            Treading softly in the darkness, they cross the bridge in a relatively short period of time, finally arriving at the massive oak door and portcullis standing in front of them. The gate is intricately carved with runes along the edges as well as two dragons masterfully carved into the stone on both sides and one larger dragon directly above the doorway.  Kenon conjures black fire around his hands and sends it from him to outline each of the five dragons. The dragon’s eyes turn a shimmering red and a loud crack shakes the ground beneath their feet. The massive wooden doors swing open effortlessly and an entire central hall is revealed.

“This is the Order of Mages,” Kenon explains as they walk through the entryway, “where magic wielding beings of all sorts and nature come to train and/or hone his or her skills. The problem is, you see, recently there has been a shortage of magic wielders, and well, frankly, it’s become a quite dangerous job over the past few years and nobody seems to be willing to take the risks anymore.”

“And would you like to explain to me who volunteered me for this?” Aeron says scrupulously.

 

“I did,” Kenon replied strictly, “but we’ll talk more of this once we are in the Council of Elders.”

“Which is where we are going now.” It wasn’t a question.

 

            The two continue to walk through the halls of the main chamber, continuously gaining more stares around every corner they turn. Eventually they come up to another pair of large wooden doors, both with gold metal knockers. The doors are also adorned with two large lion heads about halfway up in the center of each door. Once again the doors swing open by themselves and the pair enter a large chamber. The walls are lined with red velvet and ten men sit behind a long table in the middle of the room.

“Many greetings young Kenon,” the man in the center said as he stood. He is dressed in a plain, white cotton shirt with a collar and cut in a ‘v’ down the center, a royal blue robe open in the front that sat on his shoulders, and the same color blue sash holding it to his waist. His face was old, with long, somewhat ragged metallic silver hair and shimmering liquid silver eyes. A finely trimmed white beard reaches from ear to ear. “And hail young traveler”

“Greeting Master Lorien,” says Kenon walking up to stand five feet in front of the table. He then bows deeply and Master Lorien does the same.

“And who might this be?” Lorien says as he turns to Aeron.

Aeron steps forward and offers the same bow. “My name is Aeron. I was a wandering traveler when your mage, Kenon, found me.”

“Actually Kenon is what you call a Warlock, there are differences, but you shall learn.”

“Who says he shall?!” a tall, short grey haired man, with strands of white in it, stands abruptly, pounding his fist on the table at the same time. He is finely dressed in a dark grey vest and a deep crimson tailcoat adorned with gold buttons all the way up. His face is slightly aged with multiple scars on it, portraying his experience, and his eyes were set deep and old…dark…treacherous. About his face it a brown, also graying beard and full goatee, also finely trimmed.

“Sit down, Colbalt,” says a gentleman calmly sitting beside Lord Colbalt in a stern, but controlled voice. This man was much younger and dressed in a dark green, hooded ranger’s cloak.

“Who is to say that this….ruffian!,  that you picked up in the middle of nowhere,” continues Colbalt, ignoring the ranger known as Lord Kayden, “should even be permitted to join our Order, much less become a…..”

“That is quite enough,” Master Lorien says firmly, “I trust in Kenon’s decision and if he thinks he must be trained as a Mage, then that he shall,” cutting Lord Jarvis Colbalt off mid-sentence.

“But he cannot be allowed to pass over so many levels! He must be trained a tyro, then a magician, then he must be apprenticed, and he must…”

“We are all well aware of the training required here, Master Colbalt, but Master Kenon has determined…”

“To hell with Kenon! He is no member of this council! The only reason he is in the position he is in now is because of the shortage and you know it!” Lord Colbalt shouts at the High Counselor. Instantly, Kenon sprouts black fire from his palms out of sheer rage and turns towards Lord Colbalt.

Numerous Masters jump to their feet, ready to assist in accordance to where their allegiance lies in the Council.

“Enough!” explodes Lorien, “I will not have this council fighting amongst ourselves. I am quite confident in Master Kenon’s judgment, Master Colbalt. Unless you wish an attempt to undermine my authority and be dismissed from this council, this discussion is closed.”

Lord Colbalt cursed under his breath then slowly sat down, as does the rest of the council.

“Now Kenon, please proceed to explain your experiences.”

Kenon, realizing he is still holding the black flames, releases them. He then proceeds to tell of all the events that had taken place.

After he was finished, Aeron stood nervously as over half of the other mages turned their heads to him with a mixture of puzzled, bewildered, shocked, impressed and pleased expressions. Lord Colbalt was the only one that stood out, holding a smug and disgusted look on his face. Master Lorien turned finally to the counsel, giving a brief nod to Lords Kayden, and Kenon, then turned to Aeron.

“The majority of us are quite impressed by your performance, yet at the same time discouraged that one that possesses your skill has eluded us for so long. For most new mages, a particular energy is given off at the time one learns of his or her.....specialty, which is received by one or more of the mages trained specifically for the task here at the Order. All of the mages that have given off this energy, we have found, though the events that occur after we find them are different. Some of them flee, while others end up in a guardhouse for using their magic to rob, steal, kill, or some other crime. In your case, though, we received no such energy of your arrival into magic, which is something that has not been heard of in the entire history of the Order. The only reason you’re here now is because Kenon happened across you while returning from one of his assignments, of which we are fortunate for. Tell me, how long have you realized you’ve had your powers?”

“Three years.”

The counsel turned to one another, whispering and talking amongst themselves. All that Aeron could make out from the spontaneous chatter were a few words, including the words “Melchior Theatre” and “is it him?” Aeron knew they were talking about his disappearance after the Melchior Theatre Annexation, an event from a past life that had caused him to flee three years ago.

“Enough,” Master Lorien said as he turned to the counsel, “We don’t know for sure and it does not matter. Aeron, we do not mean to offend you in any way. The counsel is curious, and we do not intend to force our way into your history, that is not our job.”

“It is fine,” Aeron replied, stunned and suddenly defensive from the sudden intrusion of a time he would much rather forget. Some of his affliction must have shown though, because Master Lorien quickly changed the subject.

“The first order of business here,” master Lorien started, calling the counsel to order, “is to decide which course of action we take in assembling……”

Master Lorien continued speaking about where they would move next and how they would fix this problem or that problem while Kenon motioned Aeron to the door.

“This could take a while,” he said softly, “and not to mention boring. All they do is talk, talk, bicker, talk, talk, argue….you get the picture. Best get some rest anyways.”

“Thanks,” Aeron said as they walked from the chamber room.

Reviews

[Zanithe]

Ah, getting interesting. Work on your tense usage and it'll be fine. I rather like how the council bickers with one an other. Can't wait to see what heppens next!