Chapter 11

KREEEAAGH! There was a rush of flames and the dragon snapped fiercely at its brother. It snarled viciously and blasted clouds of steam from its nostrils.

"Cut that out!" Mezro ordered and yanked with sudden force on the reins. He threw his beast into a dive and burst through a cloud, reappearing below the rest of the soaring dragonflight. He around at the half a dozen battlemancers that commanded his scaly creations and smiled. Valius had chosen them well. He had an acquired taste. Many of these men were easily some of the best that Bashalaran had to offer. If anything was to stand between them and the key to the final element, it would have little chance against them. Laughing to himself, he quietly contemplated the power he would possess if he managed to get hold of it.

But the laughter was not just his own. A more malicious force was behind his vocal cords, urging on this pronunciation of wickedness. He flinched when something tugged at his brain, banishing all thoughts from his twisted mind. Someone else was inside his head.

What kind of a fool would dare to share my thoughts? Who is it that prowls my mind?

Mezro, Mezro. Has it been so long that you fail to recognize my presence? Came a faint, yet sweetly sinister reply.

He smiled. Ah, the Lady Neriah. You're right. It has been some time since I have been graced by your mellow voice, my friend.

But surely someone of your power could have gotten around such an obstacle! Mezro clenched his teeth, almost immediately regretting saying his last sentence.

Dawn was breaking when Talloran halted his steed at the edge of the jungle. He dismounted and felt grass sliding between his legs and moisture seeping into his boots. They had been riding for almost a day straight with little rest and his body ached from sitting in a saddle for so long. Feeling at peace, he lifted his head, letting the light and shadow dance across his skin, delighting in the sound of the trees lashing and crashing together like sticks in the hands of giants. Overhead, a large bird surveyed the silent landscape like a watcher from the heavens. Spreading its great wings, the creature soared away, soon becoming a faint silhouette against the rising sun. Kaligmar appeared by his side and motioned his arm towards the length of mountains that loomed in the distance.

"See those great hills?" he said to Talloran. "The ones that bird is flying towards?"

Talloran nodded. "I see them."

"Well, Talloran, that's the Grabvine Mountain Range, the border of Dorimear. Past them you will find-"

"The Zorann Strand and the Calystonian Isles."

Kaligmar smiled. "Oh, so you're familiar with this territory then?" he said.

"Sort of," Talloran said with a distant look. "I was born on the Calystonian Isles."

Kaligmar's eyes glazed over Talloran's well-built figure. "Ah yes. I can see it in you now. You do have the build of a native Calystonian. No wonder you have managed to hold such great shape despite your time in the mines. The Calystonian's are born workers. Strength and stamina runs in their blood. It's no wonder that slavers put such high prices on your heads."

"How dare you!" cried Zaedra who had been eavesdropping on their conversation, her face burning red with anger. It took Nampag to stop her from running over and belting Kaligmar hard across the face. "Have you no respect?" she hissed.

Kaligmar huffed as though he didn't give a care in the world. "Open your eyes once in a while, girl, and then you'll see that this is the world we live in."

Zaedra wrestled Nampag off her and pointing her finger threateningly at him. "It's because of people like you that slavery exists in Dorimear, Kaligmar. If you weren't buying them then wouldn't be any business for them here!" Nampag tried to calm her again but Zaedra slapped at his hands. "Don't touch me!" she snapped and stormed off into the woods.

"Sometimes," Nampag said to him, "sometimes you don't know when to stop."

"The world around us never stops, Nampag. Why should I? We must adapt to survive."

Nampag sighed with exasperation. "You're impossible sometimes, you know that."

Kaligmar chuckled as Nampag moved off into the thick of the jungle after Zaedra. "Come on Talloran, let's have a good look at this Chameleon."

Talloran sat himself on a fallen log covered in scratchy moss and placed the Chameleon on a flat rock between them. Seeming distracted, he stared off into the thick foliage where Nampag and Zaedra had disappeared.

"Is she okay?" he asked.

"Zaedra?" Kaligmar said as he gently prodded the Chameleon with a long stick. He frowned when the stick suddenly burst into flames and he threw it away. "Don't worry about her, Talloran. She can look after herself. But I've seen the way you've been looking at her. You spent a long time down in that mine deprived of female company, so its only natural that you act the way that you are. I don't want you putting your foot anywhere by accident. Those two have a history and they'll be doing their best to mend their relationship."

"I know," Talloran said, putting his head in his hands. "It's just been so long. Down in that mine we could only imagine being with women like her. There was Neriah, but she was more like a dream than anything else. She was just too perfect to be real."

Kaligmar nodded. "That would be her illusion at work. I believe she does it by altering people's perception of her. When men or women look at her, they see what they want to see. She is the embodiment of perfection. They see what best suits their desires. If someone was extremely attracted to an obese woman, that would be how they see her. I've asked many people to describe her and everybody has a very different description. But Zaedra ... ah, she is natural beauty."

Talloran was staring at the Chameleon, captivated by the beauty of its color-changing spirit. "The white element," he said. "What do you think it represents?"

Kaligmar shrugged. "I'm not sure. Until proven, there's no way to be sure whether it is actually a super element, one which will ultimately turn you into god. That speculation is a myth. For all we know, the white element may just be like any other ordinary element granting control of water, fire or something similar."

"So basically we'd find out what it does through trial and error," Talloran said. "We'd just come up with a hundred different things to do and see what element is required to do them."

Kaligmar nodded. "More or less. Personally I'd like to see the stone destroyed. I don't like the idea of one man holding a super power in his hand. However, there's still one thing that's preventing me from destroying it. Used properly, it could find a way to finally end this war. Once the Ceruleans are finished, I'd be happy to see it gone. In fact, I'd be happy to never see spellstones again. On the day of the Great Madness, I swore that I'd do everything in my power to undo everything that we had brought upon this world."

"The Great Madness," Talloran said. "It must have been horrible."

Kaligmar grimaced as the painful memories resurfaced in his mind. "I had a lot of friends that were Cerulean," he said. "You can't imagine what it's like to have all those men and women suddenly turn against you, becoming completely corrupt and severing any kind of relationship you had with them. One day they are your best friend, the next they're on a murderous rampage, going for your throat, spurred by some kind of ridiculous bloodlust. The Ceruleans ceased to be human that day. Even now we still don't know what it was that really changed them. Was it the pyromancy, alteration and necromancy stones? Or was it something else? All I know is that their leader, Ossyrian, holds the answer."

"Ossyrian?" Talloran said.

"The Master of Necromancy," Kaligmar said uneasily. "We don't talk much about him. He's done things to us far too horrible to imagine. He's what nightmares are made of, Talloran. There have been a few Indigo mancers who have seen him in the flesh and survived, and they're still tied down to a bed in the infirmary of Nilhaileth, thrashing and screaming to no end without an ounce of sanity left within them." Kaligmar then held out his hand invitingly. "I'd like to personally welcome you to the war, Talloran. Welcome to the war against madness."

Nampag emerged from the brush to find Zaedra sitting on the rock by the water's edge. With her sandals off, her bare feet splashed in the leaf-dappled river, darting shapes underwater fleeing from the source of her turmoil.

"Hello," she said with a grin. "Sorry I stormed off like that. You know how I can get moody at times."

Nampag sat down beside her and put an arm comfortingly around her. "I know," he said. "It's okay to be troubled. We all are."

"I just don't know how I should be feeling," she said glumly. "Everyone is gone. All our friends at the monastery, dead. I could have saved them Nampag. I had the chance to save the monastery but I failed."

"But you put your life before everyone else," Namapg replied. "You were willing to die trying, and nobody can possibly ask anything more from you. It's not your fault. You did the best you could and I admire you for that."

"It won't bring everyone back," she gritted. "I want those Cerulean bastards to suffer for what they've done. They've taken everything away from me." Holding back her tears, she rested her head against his shoulder.

"Imagine how Grandmaster Anwyn will react when she learns that her monastery has been destroyed in her absence. I'm sure that she'd happily invite you to her pyromancer hunting party."

Zaedra stifled a laugh. "I guess you're right," she smiled.

"Come on," Nampag said, standing back on his feet. "Let's get back to the others. We can't dawdle all day. The longer we stay out in the open, the bigger the risk of running into a patrol which could alert every Cerulean to our location. The quicker we get to Grabvine, the better."

The company rode hard for another day, following a road through the jungle that had been cleared out by geomancers years ago. As conjured food was known to be poisonous, they found nourishment through berries they found during the day, but closing in on dusk, they managed to cross paths with a wild boar, giving Talloran the chance to show off some of his ancestral hunting skills. That night they were all sitting warm around a campfire, happily enjoying the boar on a spit while Kaligmar explained to them what they were to expect up ahead.

"Tomorrow we're going to be at the gates of Grabvine Gateway," he said. "We should be there not long after the sun rises over the mountain range."

"About time," Nampag said through a mouth full of boar meat. "I was beginning to get tired of this jungle."

"While the city caters to all our needs," Kaligmar continued, "it also poses a very great threat to us, and that is the reason why the Ceruleans won't look for us there. Grabvine Gateway has a very strict "no mancers" policy, so if the Grabvine citizens discover that we have any possible association with spellstones whatsoever, they will kill us on the spot."

"So what's the plan?" Zaedra said.

"I will instruct Talloran on how to conjure clothing that is suitable for the city. They have a distinct style and we all need to blend in. Once inside the city, we'll need to tidy ourselves up, visit the baths and make ourselves look presentable."

"I can think of one person that needs a bath," Zaedra giggled at Talloran who instantly blushed deep red. Immediately regretting what she had just said, she quickly apologized and turned away looking rather embarrassed.