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LCoT Chapter 17
🕑 Added 2025-04-12 06:19:13 +0000 UTC‘An archduke.’
An archduke, not A Marquess or a count, the other boy had been sure that Marcus had the potential power of an archduke. And here, of all places in the slums of Srok, were the forgotten and unworthy lived. These were the thoughts that raced through his mind after the boys left his cabin.
Ivor remembered a time when he was young when he was employed by one of the Goliath Clan Noble Houses. It was during One Winter Tide at the estate of House Zakon where Ivor stood as a member of their Duskguard, the Zakon full-blood Goliaths were led by the Matriarch, a Blood Priestess who was known for her spells and rituals that doubled the strength of all she blessed. It was said this was what their house stood for and every Goliath and half goliath knew to show them nothing but respect. Furthermore it was said that House Zakon kept all records of every goliath who had ever ruled in the mountains of Taeralis and preached of the strength of the goliath people.
It was not surprising to see the only goliath at the archduke rank visit a week before the winter tide, and unsurprisingly, he was not the only lord to come for the buffing Bloodline spells of House Zakon that made their house stand out among the others.
However, it was later that week in the Ashfields that Ivor truly came to understand the strength of an archduke. The great chief of the goliaths did not fight like the king of the Aasimar or the Wyvern lord of the human Nobles. He was eight feet tall, standing head and shoulders above even the largest of Goliath people, and when he stood on the battlefield against the Tides, he was more than that, so much more. His innate magic Giant’s Presence was an innate magic that made his body grow larger doubling his size. Even among the fighting cross of men and monsters, one could not miss his presence as he killed Tide beasts in large swats, all the while defending the fifth wall that protected the city of Sogate, and when he got injured, his body healed naturally and rapidly before the enemy’s eyes.
It was the sort of display that had stunned Ivor to the core. He realised he had almost made a mistake and turned away someone who held the power to potentially destroy half the mountain cities. The mere thought sent chills down his back. He imagined Victor or the baron using the boy for their own ends, and his mind reeled at the thought, giving way to fear of the boy and those like him.
Fear.
Fear and awe was the only thing that Ivor felt that day on the battlefield and to think one is here, here in the slums of Srok. not a Marquess Rank but Archduke Rank, no surely that can’t be he tried to doubt himself but even he could not believe his doubts after all Ivor had seen the two royal magics the boy had and by all accounts the were the equal of Giant’s Presence truly.
If anything, he had to find out the truth? He had to ask Marcus.
—
“Is what you told Ivor true,” Marcus asked, looking at Gabe.
“Yeah,” Gabe said, looking around at the room covered in runic symbols. “How do you know which symbols to take out from the spell formations?”
“I didn’t know, I just tried them all,” Marcus shrugged.
“And did you learn anything?”
“Oh, yes, yes,” Marcus gestured emphatically. “See,” he pointed to a rune in the centre of a geometrical circle.
“See here,” he pointed to another rune he had drawn on the wall. This one had three runic layers around it. There are always symbols in the inner layer circle.”
The scene happened in every runic drawing Gabe’s eyes came across-- it was a complicated sight that Gabe was more likely to see in a scholar’s hall and not in Srok in some broken manor house. It had Gabe wandering weather wherever the boy had come from. He had a mentor, and if he did, then he would know how to create spells and manipulate the aether, yet Gabe couldn’t simply come to this conclusion-- if Marcus knew the teachings of the magician scholars, then he would know powerful spells, especially with his affinities and would have the ability to escape the slums of Srok.
No, Marcus knew a lot and nothing at all at the same time.
In fact, Marcus knew a lot more. The patterns of the runic spell formations resembled a structured writing schema following its own rules. For each affinity, there were certain unique runic characters, and in some cases, Marcus found universal runic symbols in every spell he looked at.
Marcus had spent days sorting through the enchantments, and he spent hours drawing out the spell formations. At first, drawing the entire spell caused it to attract aether, and after hours he spent on another drawing, it would be gone from where he had drawn it. If aether was water, then runes were the path of least resistance, letting magic take its natural course.
He knew that these runes had patterns, but he knew he did not have the full library of all the runes that he needed to truly understand what he was doing with the formations. It was like he had been given an oversimplified, incomplete version of the language system, a kindergarten understanding by all accounts and yet if he needed to understand, this wasn’t good enough. He needed efficiency.
“So have you got anything else,” Gabe asked looking through the make shift telescope Marcus had come up with.
“Yeah sure. There is this spell I have been working on,” Marcus said, looking from one runic spell on the floor to another writing on the wall to the side.
He focused on the central rune of the arcane push spell, held it in his mind then altered it a little. Then instead of holding the entire spell of the arcane push formation in his mind, his gaze went over to the runic spell he had redrawn from the Greaves the had recently found and given to Clara. he focused on those runes and placed the runic spell layer of the elemental spell onto the arcane runic center of the other spell.
Since he had no elemental affinity, he went with the arcane and filled the structure with arcane aether.
Then, when he finished his spell formation, he cast and weaved the spell. His body felt light and then lighter.
Was this a spell that made him as light as a feather?
Marcus hoped, and for a second, a mere second, his body slowly lowered back to the floor.
Then it happened. His feet left the ground, and they didn’t touch down again. Suddenly, it was as though something broke in his mind. The spell he held in his mind shattered all of the layers around the arcane core, fuzzing out.
Marcus was suddenly and violently slammed into the ceiling with an arcane force. As he lost focus, he stopped channelling the arcane aether, causing him to rush back down.
“Are you okay? What was that? Was that supposed to happen?” Gabe rushed over to help the other boy up.
Marcus whizzed, trying to get the air back into his lungs. “Am fine,” he coughed and took Gabe’s steadying hand.
“What spell was that
“Don’t know. it was something I put together but I think I did it wrong.” he confessed.
“I think you should talk to someone before you start casting unknown spells.
“You want me to talk to the old man?” He looked up at Gabe and down to his fingers. Marcus shook his head and breathed heavily. He didn’t know where to start with Ivor. For one, he was angry with the man, and for another, the man had looked at him differently ever since this morning.
—
The Rats guild was a building built in to the edge of the mountain of Taeralis its ceiling was held up by columns of rough stone its single hall was filled with cloth tents and merchant stolls all selling the sort of food that was no better than the rats the street urchins fed on.
To one side of stone wall figures held pipes and occasionally inhaled the red dust, the tips of their fingers darkened and their eyes sunken.
Small groups of girls and boys no older than their Eighteenth Tide their bodies no more than skin a bone looked out blankly while others huddled together all hope in their eyes lost.
And for those lucky and strong, favoured by the aether or whatever gods they believed, they were just the handful among the figures in the building. They did whatever they had to to get a meal-- they stole, killed and threatened all in the race for survival.
And among them, there were those that thrived in the lowest cities of Taeralis— the Veystrix.
The Veystrix were most dangerous, they were wetboy assassins and apprentice thieves. They were the black hands of the rats guild master helping hold control of the south Srok. When wealthy nobles of lower cities need something done he was at their beckoning call.
And as always, nobles were so predictable, and a letter sat on his desk.
Thornan stiffened as he watched Victor Stan chuckle and toss the letter on his desk.
“Thornan, Nigel and Eve I have a mission for you. It may take a week or two but I need you three to head to Sogate.”
“Sogate! what’s the job?” Nigel asked.
Nigel was a wiry-looking young man with brown skin and red hair who was prone to speaking his mind. Unlike him, Eve had dull eyes that looked out in the distance and into the nothingness. Her eyes were always dark, and her mood was always unknown. But this was all a facade she put on for those incompetent enough to believe it. In fact, she had sharp eyes and often never forgot a face.
“It’s our dear Baron... he wants the head of the First son of the Lord of Sogate,” he said, looking at the three and waiting for a reaction.
“Tedric of House Norden.” A soft voice spoke.
“Eve, observant as ever. Full marks to you,” Victor put on a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Thornan just grunted, and Nigel just scoffed.
“How much coin are we getting?”
“Well boys... and girl,” he nodded towards Eve. “the Baron is offering ten gold and if you are to find anything else on your mission.... no one needs to know,” he said looking over the group suggestively, he raised one finger, “but no matter what you do Tedric must not live to see the engagement to the count’s daughter four weeks from now.”
“How are we supposed to get close enough to finish the job?” Thornan asked in his deep voice.
“Well there are two opportunities. the first... will be at the merchant caravan of House Norden. The scion will be returning from travelling across the mountain cities, and they will stay here in Srok and that’s your chance. take it... or leave it,” he shrugged, “but the next time will be at the ball the baron Sogate is hosting. The letter says he wants to the body hanged from the window on the morning after the ball.” Victor looked at them with a devilish smile.
“Why does the Baron want him dead?”
“Well, my dear boy. Tedric is getting engaged to the oldest daughter of Count Baralet and she has rejected all advances of our Baron of Srok.”
“The count of Placo has strong guards,” Thornan pointed out, shifting in his seat.
“Yes, that’s why if you can get to him when he is passing through Srok in Three days you won’t have to deal with the Counts knights at the Noble Ball the Baron Norden is hosting.”
“Ten gold,” Thornan looked around the room at the other two Veystrix in the room.
“Don’t worry,” Victor said, stippling his fingers, “it may seem little but if you guys can do this I will choose one of you to join the Zarynth and you can finally leave this dump.” he said and watched all three of them look at him with surprised shock on their faces.
“The Zerynth”, all three of them muttered in unison.
The Zerynth. They were the true assassins guild masters of their craft it was said they took out jobs on the highest of nobility, and the coin the Zerynth got made the gold they would all receive on this feel like pittance and they would be allowed to leave in the third wall among the high nobility, there would be no eating dry fruits or sleeping on rags.
Thornan grinned it seemed he would have more fun than he anticipated this month and he was going to be rewarded even more than he could have imagined.
