Message Bearer (The Auran Chronicles Book 1) (7 page)

‘The sheol?’

‘Fiends. Daemons. No one
knows where they came from. Some say it was one of the Shards, others from the
Void itself. They are a lecture on their own, which we don’t have time for
right now.’

Someone appeared on the
path in front of them. Seb jumped. There was no way he’d just walked up there.
The guy was in grey, same as Seb’s smock. He stood out a mile against the
gloom. How the hell had he not seen him?

‘Master Cade, the Three
are ready for the arrival.’

Cade nodded and rose as
the man turned and began descending the path. ‘Come on, it’s time.’

‘For what?’ Seb said,
that unease creeping back into his gut.

‘To speak to those people
brighter than me that I told you about.’ Cade spoke in a light tone, but
something else had crept into his voice.

‘But there’s still more.
So much more. What about Sarah? Why did that thing kill her? And what the hell
did she do to me?’

‘In good time. For now
rest assured that answers will come. You’re safe here; I think you’ll find
answers to questions that you’ve had a lot longer than you think.’

Seb pondered those words
as he stood. Cade started down the path.

‘Thanks, by the way,’ Seb
said, just before they set off back. Cade stopped and looked back.

‘What for?’

‘Saving my life. I don’t
think I said it before. I’ll pay you back for it one day, I promise.’

Cade nodded. ‘I’ll hold
you to that.’

They
moved round the front of the building, every step revealing more as the
illusion peeled away piece by piece. Seb’s mouth dropped the further they went,
his eyes wide, drinking in the place as they moved about the perimeter.

Looking at Skelwith was
like seeing the past smashed together with the present. On one side stood a
massive church, the same one he’d seen ruined in the illusion. The church’s walls
were a washed out grey, with lichen and spores spotting the surface. Large
cracks scored the brick, filled in and repaired over the centuries.

Attached to the church,
where ancient walls met modern Lakeland slate, stood a more modern looking building
altogether. Whilst still impressive, this mansion, painted all in pristine
white, and easily five stories tall, dulled the romance of the place, as if the
modern world were intruding on the area.

They continued along a
winding track, stopping at regular intervals as wandering sheep blocked their
path, absently chewing grass whilst staring back with dumb eyes. As they left
one particular clearing Seb caught sight of a stone marked with strange runes that
was almost invisible in the undergrowth. Looking closer, the stone loomed
large, easily taller than himself. As he studied the runes he was sure some of
them flickered slightly, as if he should be seeing something else that his mind
just couldn’t quite process.

‘What is this?’ he said,
reaching out, but not quite touching the stone.

‘Wards. It’s a construct
designed to protect Skelwith from unwanted intruders.’

‘What does it do?’

‘It varies. At the Croft,
where the Brotherhood is based and where there’s a permanent garrison on site
at all times, the wards are simply alarms designed to alert us if we have any
uninvited guests.’

‘And here?’

‘Here, the wards do a
similar thing, mainly alerting the Magistry in times of need. However they don’t
have the combat presence here, at least not anymore, so they have other
protections also.’

‘Who are the Magis - Oh.’

They’d rounded a tight
bend in the path that angled downwards, twisting between two ancient oaks.
Stood right before them, on either side of the path, were the statues of two
stone warriors, the imposing structures easily the height of two men.

‘What the hell are these?’
Seb said, suddenly aware his voice had risen in pitch. He approached the nearest,
the statue reminding him of a samurai in appearance.

‘Sentinels. Stone statues
imbued with the Weave by the first Magi to base here.’

Seb ran his hand over the
stone. The warrior felt cold to the touch.

‘You mean this actually
moves?’

‘I’ve never seen them
move, but I do know that they are imbued with a very powerful and ancient
magic. In times of need they can be called upon by the Magister to defend
Skelwith.’

Seb shook his head, a
smile forcing itself onto his face.

‘What is it?’

‘It all sounds so mad,
all of it,’ he said, waving a hand at the statue, the mansion and the forest
all around. ‘I should be trying to get out of here, probably calling the police
or someone.’

‘And why don’t you?’

‘I don’t know. It’s all
mad, it really is. Yet, it just seems to make
sense
to me. As if I
already know about this, but had just forgotten. Does that make sense?’

Cade smiled back, almost
sadly, Seb thought. He nodded past the sentinels where the path opened out onto
the lawn.

‘I think it’s time you
met the Magister.’

The sun had set
completely by the time they’d descended the steep path down to the gravelled
area. Lanterns guided the way now, their flames burning an odd, purple colour.

They eventually arrived
at a large archway that led into an equally imposing porch. Two guards, dressed
in similar garb to Cade, stood on either side of the door. Both had firearms -
automatic weapons - as well as swords strapped to their persons.

‘They with you?’ Seb
whispered.

‘There is a permanent
contingent of the Brotherhood here. It is part of the Oath.’

Seb let the obvious
question hang in the air and ducked past, avoiding those yellow eyes that
followed him as he entered the building.

They emerged into a wide
hallway. A smell of old mixed with polish hung in the air. The floor was a dark
wood, and a thick carpet strip threaded with intricate patterns led straight
ahead through a large arch. A broad staircase followed the far wall, curving
round onto an interior balcony that looked down upon the entrance.

‘Where is everyone?’

‘Not many live here.
Those that do will be on lights out by now. Aside from those who are waiting to
meet the special guest, of course.’

They moved on, walking
through the open arch. A huge kitchen met them here. Empty though, like the
rest of Skelwith. Further doors led out of the kitchen, but Cade angled right
towards a closed set of double doors. Another Brotherhood warrior stood there,
this one almost as wide as he was tall. He stood to attention as Cade
approached.

‘Brother Swift, I assume
all are in attendance?’ Cade said.

‘Yes, Master Cade. All
three.’

‘And the mood?’

‘Troubled, Sir.’

Cade nodded. ‘As
expected, then.’

Without a further word
Cade pushed open the double doors. Seb gave a sheepish nod to Brother Swift
before following inside.

They were in a lounge of
sorts. Three sides were covered wall to wall in paintings of various size and
shape. At the far side loomed a large open fire. Flames danced, casting shadows
across the dimly lit room. A slight figure was stood by the fire. He turned as
they entered, a smile breaking out across his face. The family resemblance was
recognisable in an instant.

‘Cade, my son!’ The man
raised his hands, beckoning Cade over.

‘Stay here until
instructed,’ Cade whispered out of the side of his mouth as he stepped away.
Seb glanced either way, taking a welcome seat on a small chair located near the
door.

Cade skirted a wide
leather couch as he moved into the area before the fire. He returned his father’s
embrace. Inaudible words were exchanged between the two, then Cade turned to address
someone sat on the sofa, out of sight to Seb. Eventually Cade looked back
across. He beckoned Seb over.

Here we go.

Seb rose from the chair.
Shit, why were his legs shaking? Come on, he thought, focus. He clenched and
unclenched his fists, forcing out the tension. The walk across the room was
like wading through mud.

‘So, this is the young
man you told us of?’ Cade’s father said, his yellow eyes glinting with an
almost predatory zeal as Seb came to a halt.

‘Yes, father. This is
Seb. Seb, this is Silas, First Sword of the Brotherhood, and my father.’

Unsure of the correct
greeting, Seb played it safe. He held out his hand, Silas gripping it in a
blink. They shook, a brief one up, one down action. As their arms fell free,
Seb flexed. Silas had a grip of iron.

‘Behind you Seb you will
also find Grand Magister Kenan and Lore Keeper Brun, leaders of the Magistry
and Lore Orders respectively.

Seb spun around to face
the others. Magister Kenan was a woman, an old woman in fact. She was dressed
in a simple purple dress that covered her from foot to neck, where a frilly
collar flowered. Her face was scored in countless lines. Grey eyes, the colour
of morning mist, stared back at him. Something washed through him, a chill that
rocked him on his feet.

‘Seb, it is good to meet
you, we have listened with earnest at Cade’s telling of your adventures.’ Lore
Keeper Brun was much younger, or at least he seemed it. Lightly tanned, his
black hair had been swept back, revealing flecks of grey. The Lore Keeper had
stood, a warm smile on his face as he held out a hand. Seb took it, grateful to
be looking anywhere but the Magister. He winced as that wave hit him again.
Could she read his thoughts?

‘Good to meet you,’ he
replied, ‘All of you,’ he added, eager not to offend.

‘Right, now that the pleasantries
are out of the way. Let us get to business.’

Magister Kenan’s voice
had an edge of steel and dissolved any growing comfort in an instant. She
looked at Cade first.

‘Cade. The apostate. You
have not updated me on the search. When will he be located?’

Cade’s cheeks flushed a
deep red for a second. His jaw tensed, and behind him, where only Seb could
see, his hands clenched into fists.

‘He has not been found,
Magister. My men are out constantly trying to ascertain his whereabouts.’

‘And yet, they find
nothing. Why is that, Third Sword, why is it that the Brotherhood seems to fail
us once again?’

Cade’s knuckles had turned
white. Muscles tensed in his jaw as seconds of pure awkwardness passed.

‘We are doing all we can,
Magister. However the apostate is very skilled. He always seems to be one step
ahead of us. Perhaps, if we could have some assistance from the Magistry -’

‘What? Sully our hands
with this kind of work?’ The Magister leaned forwards, her grey eyes fixed on
Cade. The room seemed to shrink in size. ‘This
incident
is the
responsibility of the Brotherhood to resolve. Now find the apostate and ensure
he is purged before he can do any more damage to the Consensus. If you feel
this is beyond you I am sure Silas can find a more fitting candidate for Third Sword,
son or not.’

Cade simply stared. His
hands were clasped behind him, gripping his belt. A vein pulsed in the side of
his neck. When he finally opened his mouth as if to reply, Seb flinched, afraid
of where this was leading.

Thankfully it was Silas
that interjected.

‘There is no need to
review the current arrangement, Magister,’ the First Sword said, a subtle arm
raised in Cade’s direction, the warrior’s mouth closing into a thin line. ‘I
will personally review the current activities and ensure the Third Sword gets
the resources he requires.’

Silas nodded towards the
door. Cade gave a curt nod before turning and marching towards it. Seb tried to
catch his eye as he went, but the look of fury there forced him to look down.

‘Now, let me see this
young Latent,’ the Magister said, her mood audibly lifting. ‘Come here, boy,
don’t be afraid.’

Seb shuffled in front of
the fire, suddenly feeling like a piece of livestock at a farm auction.

‘He
is
a Latent.’
Lore Keeper Brun said.

‘Of course he is. He’s
blazing away like a furnace. That needs to stop right away.’

Something happened in the
air. He couldn’t see nor hear anything, only a sensation of being subtly
pushed
.
He closed his eyes as a coldness fell over his mind and sent a shiver down his
back. The uncomfortable feeling evaporated away quickly. He shuddered and
opened his eyes again. The Magister was smiling at him.

‘That’s better, much
better. Perhaps now I won’t get a migraine every time I look at you.’

‘So, Cade has told us
much about what transpired recently. For what it’s worth I would like to
apologise for what you’ve been through.’

‘I’m just glad to be in one
piece.’ he said, ‘I owe Cade my life.’

The Magister scowled and
he was sure he caught sight of a wry smirk on Silas’ face.

‘What I do want to know
is about you, Seb. There is much puzzlement surrounding you.’

‘Why? I’m no one special.’

‘No, you are not, at
least not to the Latent, however the fact you’ve existed so long amongst the
Unaware without our knowledge is astounding.’

Seb shrugged. ‘I’m not
sure what to say. I’ve never felt different or anything, aside from what I told
Cade, about going to certain places.’

‘Perhaps that is why. Perhaps
your link to the Weave is very weak, hence it passed our detection.’

The Magister fell silent.
The only sound being the crackling from the fire. She nodded to herself, her
fingers pressed against her lips. Eventually, she looked back up.

‘Your parents. Tell me
about them.’

‘There’s nothing to tell.
I’ve been in foster care from being a baby. When I was old enough I got out. I’ve
been flitting between bed sits, couches and hostels ever since.’

The Magister shook her
head, her mouth open in what he was sure was fake dismay. When she spoke again
it did nothing to change his opinion. ‘You poor, poor child. No one should have
to live such an existence, especially one as rare as you.’

‘What can I say, I’m not
exactly unique. There are plenty of others like me.’

Those grey eyes glinted. ‘No,
there are not plenty of others like you. You are Latent. Weak, perhaps, but
Latent nonetheless. I don’t know how you slipped through the cracks but you
will not do so again. You are a child of Danu, and for that fact at least, you
will remain with us.’

‘What, you mean you want
me to stay?’ He searched across the faces of the group, unsure how this was playing
out.

‘Not
want
, that
implies you have a choice in the matter,’ the Magister said. ‘You will stay.
Latent magi found outside of the Families are rare, most likely the result of
some bastard siring many years past but still, you are precious and are to be taken
in by the Magistry so that you may develop to your full potential.’

‘I’m sorry, this is
losing me,’ he said. ‘A magi?’

‘The magi, of which I am
one,’ the Magister began, ‘are rare Latents who command the ability to change
the Consensus.’

Lore Keeper read his
blank expression perfectly. His tanned face broke into a warm smile as he burst
out laughing.

‘Magister Kenan, you are
bamboozling the poor boy,’ he said. He motioned for Seb to sit in an empty
armchair near the fire.

‘This concept is key,
Seb. Understand this true, fundamental fact, and the rest is just built upon
those foundations,’ he said.

Seb nodded. He shut down
the rest of his mind, the part that was churning through hundreds of questions
a second.

‘The world in which you
live. This universe, this Shard. All Shards. They are simply energy, manifested
in separate forms. You see a chair, or a star. They are vastly different at a
macroscopic level, but deep down, at the bottom level, they are all made of the
same stuff.’

‘Star-stuff?’ he said,
the word coming from somewhere he couldn’t quite remember.

‘Exactly! Exactly that!’
Lore Keeper Brun said. ‘Now, our senses. What we see, hear and touch. What we
smell and taste. These are just instruments translating that energy into a form
that our minds can understand. Reality is literally what we experience via these
senses.’

‘Okay,’ he said, the word
being drawn out into a drawl. His jaw was dropping, and perhaps some drool was
seeping out too. He slammed his mouth shut, hoping that he didn’t look too much
like a complete buffoon.

‘Keep with me now. You
will learn more of this, much more, but for now you need to understand the one
truth.’

‘I’m listening.’

‘Imagine if there existed
a way to interact with the energy that underpinned reality. Imagine that
certain races had harnessed this power and could use it for their own gains.’

Seb frowned. ‘What, you’re
saying that you can change reality?’

The Magister nodded. ‘It’s
simplifying it a great deal, but in summary, yes. All Latents are aware of this
energy, the Weave, as it’s called, at some level, but only the magi have
studied it to such a degree that they can actually use and harness its power.’

Seb sat back, the large
chair nearly swallowing him whole.

‘Wow, just wow.’ A
tiredness had hit him like a hammer. He tried to blink away the fatigue, his
eyelids leaden.

‘I think that’s probably enough
for today, don’t you think?’ Brun said, putting his mug down on the table. Seb
liked him already.

‘Wait, what about Sarah?
What about what she did to me?’

The Magister rose. ‘Come
here, child. Let me see.’

He stood and edged
forwards. An urge churned in his gut, telling him to run, to get out of there
whilst he still had his faculties. Yet something deep down, either his own
curiosity or his need to belong, compelled him towards her.

‘Don’t be afraid, child,
this won’t hurt.’