Blood Eagle

The City of Wonders

Nestled in the foothills of a mountain chain lay Archen. For centuries, the city had been known as the centre of magic across the continent. While the Tyrians were content with their knowledge and the Khivans considered magic a religious pursuit, the Archeans went deeper and further than any others. They excelled in enchantment, and all knew to respect the prowess of an Archean mage.

Of their kind, few held such fame as Atreus the Spellbreaker. He had faced a fiend of the Nether and survived, banishing the fell creature back to whence it came. Arriving from Aquila, his return to Archen happened under an auspicious sky, where the stars approached each other to meet under a full moon; magic lay in the air. Others of his order had likewise read the signs; a handful of spellbreakers had come together and delved into the conspiracy that perfused the city and all of its strongholds on the continent. Together, they prepared to fight for the soul of Archen.

*

In a vaulted chamber far underneath the hall of the Conclave, nine mages stood spread out, surrounding a host of magic symbols inscribed onto the ground. An outer ring encircled several smaller, inner rings. Already, many of them glowed with strange light that changed colours.

“That’s all the outposts connected, mistress,” one remarked, seeing the last, hitherto dormant glyph become illuminated as well. In distant Aquila, the corresponding ritual was finally underway.

A woman, their leader by the deference the others showed her, held out her hand towards the glowing circle, letting her skin become illuminated. “Time?”

Another of her cohorts looked over his shoulder at a water clock. “A few more hours until Malac reaches his zenith.”

The woman in charge nodded. “Begin channelling your power. Slowly. We don’t want to finish before the conjunction is at its strongest.”

“Yes, mistress,” they responded. All of them held out their hands, standing at the edge of the circle, and began to pour their magic into the symbols that glowed more and more.

*

Watching from a perch that overlooked the vaulted chamber, a spellbreaker looked down to see the ritual begin. As the power flowed and flooded the room, she crawled backwards on her stomach through the narrow tunnel behind her until at last, she could drop down on her feet and walk the rest of the way to where three others of her kind awaited her, including Atreus.

“It’s started. There’s a circle with symbols like those we discovered,” she related, “and more magic than I’ve ever felt in one place. They must have prepared this for years.” She hesitated, looking at Atreus. “Elena leads them.”

“How many?” he simply asked.

“Nine.”

He nodded a little. “Three times three.”

“And only four of us,” another spellbreaker pointed out. “The numbers are stacked against us. We should get help, alert the Conclave –”

“Elena is a member of the Conclave,” interjected the last of their company. “Who else may be compromised?”

“How long until the conjunction reaches its zenith?” Atreus asked.

“A couple of hours, give or take.”

“If we go in, four to nine, we’ll die.”

“They’ll be done by the time we’ve found any trustworthy reinforcements.”

“We don’t even fully understand what they’re doing!”

“It’s a portal to the Nether, what else could it be?”

The spellbreakers argued onwards, except Atreus, who remained silent. In the end, they all looked to him. Their order had no hierarchy; they were all held to be of equal position, entrusted to take measures as they saw fit. Yet he was senior among them in experience, if not years; his achievements outshone theirs.

Atreus bowed his head, and the silence continued breath after breath until at last, he looked at his brethren. “If they complete that ritual, there’s no telling what abominations and aberrations may come through. It’ll be the end of Archen, and after that, the continent.” He held their gaze, one after the other. “This is the oath we took. We stand ready to die that others may live.”

Nobody spoke.

“We do what we must. For Archen.”

“For Archen.” The others repeated his phrase, with enthusiasm or with a mumble, but none argued against.

*

The entire vaulted chamber lay bathed in the light from the symbols inscribed into the ground. Still, the maleficars continued, maintaining the connections of power between themselves and the circle.

Suddenly, Elena jerked her head up. “The wards! We are discovered!”

All nine ceased their activity and turned towards the entrance. Stealth no longer possible, the four spellbreakers ran into the chamber, spreading out, and the air became filled with magic.

Elemental powers struck. Streaks of fire met rays of ice. Stones flew out from the walls to strike the wizards with howling gales pushing them back.

Attempts of mental domination followed, maleficars locking eyes with spellbreakers. They availed nothing against the defensive spells of the mage slayers, and the corrupt wizards unleashed attacks of pure harm meant to shatter their minds instead. One spellbreaker fell to his knees while his brethren retaliated in kind, making two enemies cry out in pain.

A maleficar released a tendril of magic to latch onto a spellbreaker and leech her power directly; trained to subvert such, the defender of Archen poisoned the bridge between them, and the fell wizard began to tremble uncontrollably, foaming around the mouth.

Standing at the far back, Elena watched and waited, her cold gaze sweeping over the battle. As a spellbreaker came within range, she unleashed soulfire that made her target scream and collapse. Before the unfortunate wretch could stand up, other maleficars fell upon him with blades made of pure magic, glittering green; they stabbed him, causing wounds that would not close nor heal, leaving him to bleed out.

Injured, Atreus pushed past one enemy and seized another standing in his way, lifting her up with a magical grip only to slam her into the wall. He leapt forward to face Elena, and she laughed.

“Atreus! You really think you can stand against me?”

He made no reply besides raising the wind with as much force as he could muster; a powerful gust that blew past him. It pushed the leader of the maleficars several steps backwards, deep into the circle of power that still glowed on the ground, but that was all it accomplished.

Again, she laughed. “Is that all?” With a sneer, she unleashed her soulfire upon him, and Atreus fell to the ground, trembling in agony.

“No,” he mumbled. “I just needed you out of the way.” White flames surrounded his fists. Summoning every scrap of magic left in his body, he slammed down to crush the stonework, disrupting the circle.

“Fool!” Elena screamed, and she bound a terrible curse to inflict upon the weakened spellbreaker. While she released her malevolent spell, all the restrained power of the ritual was released from the broken circle. Uncontrolled, reacting with all the magic permeating the city, it exploded.

In the blink of an eye, Archen was consumed, with nary a stone left upon stone. And through all the connections established by the ritual, spreading like tendrils across the continent to all the outposts, utter destruction rained down upon city after city.