Sytravious: The Lost Warlock Of Moruz (The Oathbreaker Book 1) (11 page)

Everybody in the chambers was quiet and deep in thought.  She hoped to remember a piece of information that may be helpful to the investigation.  Raiven stared at the floor while she was trying to recall all she had studied of the VanDrake’s of Moruz.  In her peripheral vision, she noticed a glint of metal, which caught her eye.  She stooped down and picked it up to further study the object.  It was a small medallion laying in a heap of the victims’ clothes. 

“Look at this.”  Raiven held up the object.

“Where did you get that, my dear?”  Vienken asked.

“I just found it in this pile of clothes.” 

She dropped it into his palm so he could see it.  He inspected it, and then handed it to the constable. 

“Priestess, this is a military coin one receives when they join the ranks of the Moruz’s forces.  See here, this is the insignia of the First Legion of Moruz.”  The constable pointed out the skull flanked by wings.  “I was so preoccupied with this man’s cause of death that I did not search their personal effects.”

He picked up their belongings and set them on an empty table.  They had all began separating them, when she noticed a flash of color amongst the drab clothing.  It was a small piece of a peach tinted garment.  Believing it was an odd color for any of the victims to wear, she brought it to their attention.  “No self-respecting soldier would be wearing this shade of fabric.”

“That is true, Priestess.  It does not seem to match any of their clothes.  It is out of place here.”  The constable took the cloth from her and the group continued to rummage through the items, but they were unable to find anything else of significance. 

“Excuse me, but as I stated earlier, some of us have other matters to attend to.  We have stayed long enough.  Let us leave Constable Duegar to his work.”  Kenshiro marched out of the room.

“Thank you for your assistance, I will be sure to keep everyone updated on the case.”

Raiven waved to him as she exited the room behind her instructor.  In order to help solve the mystery, she needed to know more.

              “Master Vienken, it is clear that the man back there has died due to dark magic, but why is it so obvious to you and the constable that it is VanDrake magic?  Could it not have been
any
dark sorcerer’s work?”

              “My dear, you seem to only remember the fact the VanDrake’s blood line was extinguished, but you are not bearing in mind the other facts that apply to our situation.  The origins of that family are what make their magic so discernable and unique.”

              “Would you please share the story with me?”

              “Of course, I would be happy to tell you the tale.  Many ages ago, long before the people of Moruz were our enemies, King Daegon peacefully ruled the west.  It all began one day when many concerned citizens approached the king with accounts of dragon sightings.”

              “Dragons?” she exclaimed.

“Yes, though not very common, they have been seen throughout history.  Wanting to ease the minds of his people, the new ruler vowed that his first great act as king would be to find the beast and rid the land of it, for nothing good would come of letting a dragon intrude on his kingdom. 

He rounded up a skilled hunting party and began the task of tracking the beast.  Unfortunately, he had underestimated the power the dragon possessed.  When they came upon the beast, the entire group of hunters were burnt to a crisp and the king was gravely injured.  King Daegon thought he would be left for dead, but instead the dragon carried him to the top of Mount Oblis.”

“It was there the dragon revealed her human form, a beautiful woman by the name of Nocturna VanDrake.  She did him the favor of healing his wounds and caring for him until his health was restored.  The king was taken by her beauty and was so enamored with her by then; he did not want to leave.  He stayed in the mountain with her for weeks, where they fell in love with each other.  Eventually, the king convinced Nocturna that he could persuade his citizens to accept her.”

“Since she was unable to remain in her human form outside of Mount Oblis, she stayed behind as King Daegon returned to the city on a mission.  The citizens rejoiced upon his arrival, as they all had believed him to be dead.  He recounted his tale to them, so his story could be known and everyone would know to not to fear the Nocturna.  Thenceforth, the kingdom returned to its peaceful rule under King Daegon.” 

“Over the following months, the king continued to visit the dragon in confidence and it is believed that she loved him so much, she transferred the precious gift of her own magical powers to him.  From that day on, King Daegon had the power of the black flame.” 

“The king could not be more delighted, until one day a dragon was spotted terrorizing the lands and killing countless citizens.  Men, women, and children all fell victim to the beast’s fire.  The people of his kingdom begged him to slay the beast.  King Daegon was torn because he could not bring himself to accept Nocturna would do such a thing, especially since she no longer possessed her magical flame.  When the time came to order her execution, he refused and the council realized the extent of the king’s relationship with the dragon.  They rebelled against King Daegon’s wishes by mobilizing thousands of soldiers to kill the beast.  By the time the king had become aware of what was happening, it was too late.”

“The soldiers had already climbed the mountain and killed the dragon.  They had tortured her for days before murdering her, and not once did she ever fight back.  Upon hearing the tragic news, King Daegon raced to Mount Oblis.  When he saw her dead body, his heart shattered.  He remained by her side, mourning her death, before returning to the kingdom months later.  When he went back, it was apparent to everyone that he was not their same beloved king, but instead a brokenhearted man, raging with malice and hate, which he conveyed through his actions.”

“That is how the dark ages of Moruz began, with King Daegon vowing revenge against his own people.  In honor of Nocturna, the King took the surname VanDrake and built a castle at the base of Mount Oblis to commemorate his lost love.  For the remainder of his reign, he terrorized his kingdom with the dragon’s black flame that had been given to him.  For reasons unknown to us, the black flame technique has been exclusively passed down from one VanDrake to another.  We know this to be true because Lord Byronicus VanDrake was well known for this technique.  Witnesses claim, when in combat, he would engulf his long sword or halberd in a spectacular black fire.”

“You asked earlier how we are able to rule everyone else out and the answer is because of the signature indicators the magic leaves in its wake.  The distinguishable clues are like no other; no clear cause of death, inflamed sclera’s, a smoky smell, and of course, inside everything is blackened.  The victims appear to have suffered an excruciating death, having been charred from within.”

              Raiven stopped in front of the entrance to the temple and faced Vienken.  Sorrow filled her golden eyes.  “That is an awful story.”

              “I know it is upsetting, but it is a part of history and it is making its way into the present day.  It is better to be knowledgeable than naïve, especially when it comes to matters like this.”  Sensing her distress, he offered, “Would you like to call it a day?  We have covered more than enough material for now.” 

              “I would like that very much.”  She bowed to Vienken, and then headed to her chambers.

Chapter 9

The Inn And The Dagger

            
 
T
he Dew Drop Inn was never very busy, which is why Sytravious often did not care to show up for his apprenticeship.  He was obstinate in his belief that he benefitted more as a thief than a smith.  However, even with the extra money he was stealing, he began to feel guilty for leaving Nysight to manage the shop on his own.  So today, he decided he would put aside his bad habit, and actually go to work.

              The inn appealed to many travelers because, in comparison to the rest of the area, it was warm and inviting.  Once inside, he walked to the shop in the corner, which was labeled with no more than a sign of a hammer and anvil.  He greeted Nysight and joined him in making horseshoes.

              “For the warden again?”

              Nysight nodded.  Every couple of months, they had the responsibility of producing new horseshoes for all the royal horses.  It was their main source of income.  Even though it did not pay that well, they were still thankful for the reliable business.  For hours, he made one horseshoe after another, when a thought came to him.  A set of them would be going on Raiven’s horse. 

              He envisioned her on the back of a splendid white horse, and the image brought a smile to his face.  It had been weeks since Sytravious had last seen her at the spring that confusing day.  He reminisced about her all the time and wondered why she had not returned to their meeting spot.  His visits to the spring had become less frequent because he began to get the impression she would not be coming back.  Had he done something wrong?

              “I can make my way from here, thank you.”  A familiar sweet voice of a young woman could be heard just outside.  “The blacksmith is right inside, I will be just fine,” she protested. 

              “Raiven?”  Sytravious fixed his stare on the entrance.  In his mind, he rationalized it could not be her, not walking the streets of the city.  It was simple to explain away, he had just been thinking about her and that is why he thought he was hearing her voice.  Nonetheless, he still hoped the priestess would walk through the door.

              The entry opened, revealing a large muscular guardian, his friend Bryce.  At the sight of him, Sytravious exhaled, realizing he had been holding his breath in anticipation.  Disappointed, he grumbled and returned to the job at hand.

            
 
“It will be fine, I know this guy,” Bryce assured someone outside.

His friend approached the workshop, and then nodded in acknowledgment to Nysight, who was working in the back.  “Good morning Sytravious.”

“Good morning,” he replied without looking up.  “What are you doing here?  Is it not a little too early for a drink?”

Bryce snickered. 

“Well, I just wanted to see if you could repair this dagger for me?”  Raiven asked as she stepped out from behind the guardian. 

Sytravious’ jaw dropped, before he remembered to bow to her.  “Priestess, it is a pleasure to be graced with your presence.  How may I be of service?”

She was smirking at him and had a mischievous spark in her eyes.

“Alright Priestess, looks like you can handle it from here.  I will be at the bar if you need me.”  Bryce clapped him on the shoulder.  “And just so you know, it is
never
too early for a drink.”

              He watched his friend sit at the bar, before he locked eyes with Raiven.  “What are you doing here?”

              “I just told you, I am here to get this dagger repaired.”  She set a bundle of folded cloth on the table in front of him.

              “Stop fooling around, you know what I mean.  I know you did not come here to get a ‘dagger’ fixed.” 

              He lifted up what he thought to be an empty cloth, causing the blade to slip out and fall.  They both gasped as it clanked on the stone floor.  Sytravious reached down to pick it up. 

              “Are you crazy?  That is a ceremonial dagger from the temple of Vesalys!  That was forged long before you or I even existed!”

              He held his index finger over his lips, signaling her to lower her voice.  “I am sorry.  I thought you were just making up an excuse to see me.”

              “What did you think that I just brought an empty cloth?  Of course I had to bring the dagger if I wanted the excuse to work.”

              “So…it
is
an excuse to see me?”

              “Sytravious, I just needed to make sure you were okay.  You know after I left you at the spring, there were those killings; I was worried that something could have happened to you.”

              He scoffed.  “As I recall, your last words were ‘we cannot’.  Then you never returned.  Now all this time later you want me to believe you were worried.”  As much as he wanted to see her again, he did not want to let on how thrilled he was to see her right now.

“I know and I apologize for how I ran off.  All these feelings are new and confusing for me, I hope you can understand that.  I wanted to come back and see you, but since that day, leaving the temple is an impossible feat.”

As annoyed as he had been every time he sat alone at the spring waiting for her, he could not resist her apologetic pout.  Wanting to hide the fact that he had already forgiven her, he crossed his arms.

“Please, I have spent the past weeks asking around about the local blacksmiths so that I could find you.”

“Well…”  He wanted to appear as if he was struggling to believe her, so he grimaced while pretending to ruminate over her explanation.  In response, her eyes widened and eyebrows perked up, expressing her hopefulness.

“I suppose if you went through the trouble to track me down, we can put this little misunderstanding behind us, under one condition.  You have to admit that you missed me.”

              “I…I was
worried
about you.”

              He shook his head and turned, as if to go back to his work. 

              “Okay fine.  I did miss you,” she muttered.

Sytravious chuckled when he saw her bite lower lip, and he thought she looked bashful as ever.  The moment became silent, neither one knowing how to proceed.  Deciding to diffuse the awkwardness, he asked, “Now, what repairs is this dagger in need of?”

“I thought you might be able to fix the hilt, it seems a little loose.”

              While examining the dagger, he narrowed his eyes at her.  “Loose huh?”  He stabbed the blade into the wooden desk in front of him.

              “Be careful with that!  I was told Onyx and his son were the best smiths in town, yet you treat this frail temple object with such carelessness.  Perhaps I should have Onyx help me instead.”

              He was amused with the game she was playing, and decided to call her bluff.  Sytravious peered over his should at his stepfather, who was known in the forge as Onyx. 

              “Why Priestess, that is a great suggestion.  We can bring him over here and he can tell us how loose the hilt is on this dagger that is in perfect condition
or
you can stop hiding behind your excuses and tell me when I can see you again.”

              “I beg your pardon?”

              He reached out and grabbed her hand.  “Well?”

              She gasped and snatched her hand back.  “You will see me again when I come to pick up the temple’s dagger, and not a second earlier.”

              “How about I come see you before that?”  He gave her his best smoldering look.

              She tried to disguise her smile with a poorly executed scowl.  “I would discourage that.”

              “I really do not care if you or anyone else discourages it.  I know you said you missed me, and I would be lying if I said I did not miss you too.  If I have to wait again, before getting to see your beautiful face, I am liable to lose my mind.”

              Raiven was beaming while her cheeks blushed a rosy pink.  “Sytravious, you are one of a kind.  You are bold, frank, and candid, everything I am not.” 

              “Is there something wrong with that?”

              “No, I just do not understand what you see in me.”

              “It is simple.  Not only are you attractive, but I get along better with you than I do with most people.  I enjoy your company, and you must enjoy mine, or else why would you have went through the trouble of finding me?”

              “To fix---”

              “Do not dare say to fix that dagger.  That is a lie and we both know it.”

              The priestess hesitated as she tried to come up with another answer.

              “It is alright, Raiven.  You do not have to say anything.  I know you wanted to see me because you want something different in your life and as you stated, I am one of a kind.  Maybe I make you feel something beyond what the temple has taught you is right, and that intrigues you.”

              She was about to respond just as Nysight walked up to them.  He bowed to the priestess, and then turned to Sytravious.  “I am going to go eat and check on your mother.  I will not be long,” he said before leaving.

              “I must also be on my way.  I mean just look at my escort.  If I stay here any longer he will be too drunk to remember the way back.”

              “Who Bryce?  It will take a lot more than a couple mugs of ale to get him drunk.”

              “Have you known him long?”

              “Yes, since we were children.”  He was disappointed with the sudden topic change. 

              “Oh…”  Raiven fiddled with the edge of her cloak. 

              Sytravious stared at her, wanting to appreciate her innocent beauty before she would ran off again. 

              “As I said, I must be on my way.  It was nice to see you again.  I suppose I shall return for the dagger within the next few days.”

              “Return here?  To this old place?  Why would I have you do that when I can personally deliver it to you?  I have heard the temple gardens are quite a sight to see this time of year.  I imagine they are almost as lovely as the priestess who graces them.  I think I would like to go find out for myself.”

“Really, please do not take such risks.”

              “If I did not, then I would be like everybody else who lets the temple control every aspect of their lives, and that is just not who I am.  I cannot let them tell me whom I can and cannot see.  The only way I would not go is if you told me you do not want to see me anymore.”

              “Sytravious, you know that is not the case.”

“Then it is settled, I shall see you there.”

              “No, just be patient, I will come back.  Promise me you will not do anything foolish.”

              He answered with a wink. 

              She sighed, and then waved to him.  “I have to go.  Vesalys be with you.”

              He bowed to her once again.  “Until next time, Priestess.”

              Sytravious watched her walk up to the bar and tap Bryce on the shoulder.  She seemed to glide across the common room to the exit, and then she was gone.  He looked down at the dagger, pulled it from the wood, and smiled because it reminded him of how she had used it as a way to get to him. 
The
Priestess of Havencrest went out of her way to see
him
, a poor blacksmith’s apprentice. 

He took the blade to the back of the shop for closer inspection.  The only component of the hilt that concerned Sytravious was the several jewels with which it was encrusted.  If he could manipulate the gems in just the right way, they would come loose.  She would never notice if he replaced them with a cheap substitute.  By selling them, he would be able to afford a superb gift for Raiven.  It would be the perfect way to show how he felt about her.