Chapter 2

In just an hour, the news of the Cerulean's disturbance had spread like wildfire through the Azure Monastery and the mines of the Echospar Excavation. As a security precaution, mancing masters and arch-consars had ordered magical scans throughout every mining tunnel in an attempt to flush out any other camouflaged Ceruleans that could be in hiding. Adept illusionists prowled the depths of the mine with spellstones in their hands, using them to screen the exteriors of every miner for false layers of flesh and bone. Occasionally the stones would give off a small glimmer and illuminated a suspect, but after a more thorough scan the miner would later be found to be innocent. The reason for the Cerulean's sudden appearance was still being questioned.

The flowing, scarlet robes of the Master Illusionist, Neriah, scraped harshly along the cold, hard floor as she swept past the dazed looking miners. She appeared exceedingly calm and relaxed; her gaze seemingly remote and unending. But beneath her lazy eyes and pale, bored expression hid an agile and very alert mind, her senses taking in every piece of detail around her. Even more of a mystery was her radiant beauty. She staggered every man and woman she passed with her amazingly curvaceous silhouette, soft, dark and radiant skin, perfect ample breasts, and a dazzling mane of flowing platinum blonde hair. Those who knew the full extent of her power would certainly stop to ask whether they were they part of her illusion as well? There came a point where it was simply impossible for someone to be so utterly perfect and one could never be sure what about her was real and what was not.

To the workers of the mine, Neriah's ridiculous perfection was not to be questioned but simply to be enjoyed. One covert glance of the beauty incarnate draped in those body-accentuating robes was enough to get their adrenaline pumping and their picks swinging with renewed fervor.

Neriah's staff tapped solidly against the surface of the ground, the regular clicks echoing against the stone walls as she descended further into the mine. The glowing spellstone on the tip of the weapon lit her way, proving much more effective than the flicker of the dim lanterns clinging feebly to the rocky walls. The brilliant stone wavered among the working miners as Neriah passed them by, studying them all with keen interest. She was in need of one thing: a strong and healthy man to join the two dozen miners already working at the deepest reaches of the tunnels. The majority of workers she had surveyed so far were quite feeble and weak in structure — obviously unsuited for the task at hand.

Talloran paused to wipe the sweat from his brow as he heard footsteps approaching from down the tunnel. He instantly recognized the glow of the Master Illusionist's staff and felt his heart begin to race. Turning back to his task, he began to swing his pick with twice the force in the hopes of impressing the Master Illusionist when she arrived. Slackers were often much more valuable to their superiors as test subjects for initiate consars practicing their arts on the surface.

Talloran sensed the figure halt some feet behind him, causing him to break out in a sweat. He knew that the Master Illusionist could sense his fear emanating and so tried to remain as calm as possible while he continued with his task, nervously taking another swing at the stone encrusted walls. An orange stone tore free of the wall and bounced along the floor until it hit the feet of the woman behind him. Turning slowly, he kept his eyes to the ground as she scooped up the stone and dusted the remaining rock from its surface.

Neriah held the stone in the air and drew the glowing head of her staff close to examine it. "Very good," she said in her silky voice, her eagle eyes searching the stone for all its magical properties, "This is a fine specimen, miner. Quite a powerful illusion crystal if I'm not mistaken. Would you object to me holding onto it?"

Talloran raised his eyes to her face and found himself drawn right into Neriah's inescapable gaze. Her overwhelming beauty hit him hard and fast, and he felt his heart lurch in his chest. Struggling to keep his balance, he knew that he would've been knocked to the floor if he hadn't been prepared for it. This wasn't the first time that he'd seen the angelic Neriah prowl through the mines, and he feared each visit just as much as he desired them.

He bowed graciously before her. "By all means, Milady, it's all yours."

Neriah pocketed the stone and looked Talloran up and down, paying specific attention to his overall level of fitness. "You're in good shape, slave. How long have you been here?"

Talloran's reply came quickly as though it had been well rehearsed. "Almost six months, Milady. I once worked in the Forlorn Sector but I was recently transferred."

There was a hint of surprise in the Illusionist's voice as she replied, "Six months, you say? That seems quite impressive for a man of the Forlorn Sector, and just what I'm looking for — a man with durability. As of now you I am assigning you to the Deep-Strike project. There are miners down there who are in need of an extra hand."

Talloran realized that she was referring to the men in the Yawning Sector who were busy digging into rumored underground caverns where rich and lustrous spellstones could be found. It was even said that prosperous veins of more powerful, undiscovered stones could be located there — a great asset to the ongoing war against the Ceruleans.

"Who am I to refuse?" said Talloran politely. He gave another small bow. Manners were essential when one was shadowed by a master of an arcane line.

Neriah nodded and tapped her staff. "Good. You are to start immediately and I shall inform your overseer of your absence. Show me your slave number?" Talloran drew down his sleeve and bared his mark to his superior. Neriah nodded in response. "You may go now. Do not keep them waiting."

Talloran bowed modestly once more, his eyes meeting the cold floor. But when he looked back up, the Master Illusionist was nowhere to be seen. She appeared to have vanished into thin air. Two consars snapped him back to attention when they appeared at his sides and began escorting him down towards the deepest parts of the mine.

The Deep-Strike project, overseen by Claust, was already in full swing by the time Talloran had arrived. Pausing from his duties upon seeing the two consars and Talloran approach, the Overseer acknowledged their presence with a slight nod and walked over to greet them.

"Evening, morning or afternoon, gentlemen," he said. "I'm not quite sure which it is right now, though I'm sure it's still irrelevant nonetheless." His eyes then fell to Talloran's solid muscles. "Hmm, is that one for me?"

The two consars nodded and the Overseer gave them a wide grin in return. Fumbling around in a leather pouch that hung from his belt, Claust pulled out two orange illusion crystals and gave one each to the apprentice mancers. "Knock yourself out, lads." The consars thanked him excitedly, leaving him alone with the recently delivered slave.

Overseer Claust looked Talloran up and down, giving him the odd pinch here and there to check for flabbiness. "Where've you come from slave? And what brings you down here?"

"I used to work in the Forlorn sector but was recently transferred to the main mining tunnel. The Master Illusionist sent me down here because she said you needed an extra hand."

Claust went wide-eyed. "You mean Neriah? I can't believe that that goddess visited this murky hole! Damn, what a beauty! We don't see her down here nearly often enough."

The Overseer's face took on a far-away look for a time until Talloran coughed loudly and asked him, "Sir, what would you have me do down here?"

Claust shook his head to retain himself and raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Not only is this boy big and strong, but he's dutiful too! Ready and willing to work — I like that in a slave!" He turned to point at a man in a dark brown cloak who was busy handing out rations to the other miners. "Ah yes, your job ... if you go and talk to the Geomancer Nampag over there, he'll give you directions. He'll be your superior from now on. I'll leave you to it then. Looks like you caught them just in time for lunch."

Claust gave Talloran a nod and strode away, leaving him to his new superior. Nampag was quite short and his dirty blond hair had somehow managed to escape the confines of his brown hood. He was haggard and unshaven, an obvious sign that he had been on duty for quite some time. It seemed that there wasn't much rest for the Deep-Strike team. As Nampag reached up to scratch his beard, Talloran noticed a familiar mark branded into his right arm, indicating that this mancer was actually slave as well.

"Geomancer?" Talloran said as the cloaked figure stopped before him.