Master Mages Marriage - 53 Galicia

The crunch of gravel beneath dozens of boots woke him.

That, and the shaking.

Nikolai’s eyes flickered open to see a small caravan winding its way across charred land and shattered trees. Soldiers dressed in a diverse array of armour flanked the carts and wagons, spears at the ready and eyes scanning the surroundings for any hint of danger. Cool, damp air brushed across Nikolai’s face, bringing the distinct scent of the sea, mixed with the acrid smell of ash and blood.

A battle had been fought nearby.

He struggled upright, groaning at the effort and almost collapsed at the strange weight on his body.

Cold steel wound around his neck and with trembling fingers Nikolai traced what could only be a collar. His arms jerked uncontrollably at the sensation, horror threatening to overwhelm him.

He was bound.

Deep in his soul something angry stirred. The will of the True Imperial snarling at the restraint, howling to get out.

Nikolai growled. Or at least tried to, the sound coming from his throat was little more than a faint squeak.

His body felt unwieldy, taking forever to carry out even the simplest of actions. Rage coursed through his veins, the blood of the True Imperial calling for magic. The energy from his surroundings flowed towards him, struggling to pass into his body as if a barrier coated his skin. Whatever it was that blocked him warped under the force of his will, cracking all over and letting threads of energy seep into his pores.

“Master Nikolai! There’s no need to be so angry. You’re not restrained at all! You’re free.” A strange silver masked man galloped towards the cart Nikolai was in, brown cape flapping in the wind, arms flailing to catch Nikolai’s attention.

There was a strange vibration in the man’s voice, shocking the will of the True Imperial out of its rage. It seemed to sense something and agreed with the masked man’s assertions, returning to the deepest recesses of his mind. Gritting his teeth, Nikolai tried to draw more energy, sensing the power building in him with every drop that passed through the strange barrier. The masked man drew close and waved his hand, causing the collar to light up with runes. The spell etched into the collar came to life and Nikolai groaned in despair as the surrounding energy spiralled into chaotic swirls. Even the streams of power within him went out of control, wriggling to his skin and bursting in sparks of light.

“Sorry. Sorry. I can’t let you cast any spells right now.” Chuckling, the man hopped into the cart, letting his horse be pulled away by a soldier. “Please don’t glare so viciously, Master Nikolai. I am but a humble Mage of little talent, eager to learn from one of the greatest minds to walk the Empire in the last few centuries.”

“How is this not restraint?” Nikolai croaked, gasping for breath like he’d run a circuit around the Imperial Palace. Withouthis magic, there would be no easy escape. He hadn’t expected one, but one could always hope. Anyone kidnapping a Mage would take appropriate precautions. The collar was an interesting technique though, and Nikolai hoped to be able to dissect it later. If he got out. Shaking his head to rid himself of the thought, Nikolai focussed on his captor’s words.

“The collar is for me and my compatriots… security. It only stops you from using magic in uncontrolled situations.” The masked man gathered some scattered hay and heaved a loud sigh as he settled down. “I must say, the trouble I had to go to just to arrange a meeting with you is astonishing.”

Nikolai tried to stand but couldn’t gather any strength in his legs. A deep weariness pulled at his body and he wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep.

“What have you done to me?”

“Well, I’d rather not explain all the details, since it’s possible you could find some method of breaking free, but it only seems fair for you to know a little bit after all.” Nikolai blinked at the flurry of words spewing from the masked man. Now that he was forced to pay attention to his captor, Nikolai noticed how flat the man’s words were, despite the obvious enthusiasm behind them. Taking a deep breath, Nikolai drew a thread of energy to activate his Sight. In his enhanced vision, odd magic swirled around the strange silver mask, hints of Vilinian masking techniques blurred by something far more ancient, making it difficult to determine all the details behind the magic. Based on the spell structures he could identify, it seemed to be an elaborate tool for disguise.

Not just a simple cloak but a means to hide one’s identity completely, soul signature and all.

Nikolai’s vision blurred, Sight dissipating under the tremors that sprung from his hands and he leaned back against the cart rail.

Exhausted.

“Yes it is a disguise.” The masked man offered, having kept a close watch as Nikolai used his Mage Sight. “It is… unwise for me to reveal my identity while on the road.”

“So you’re not a member of the second Magical Corps?” Nikolai feebly waved at the man’s crimson eagle pin.

“I used to be.” He sighed, the mask wobbling strangely at the odd whistling which passed for the masked man’s sigh. “Not many of us are left after what happened.”

Nikolai tried to shrug, but the tremors in his body intensified. All of a sudden he felt waves of nausea rise up and sharp spikes of pain dig deep into his head. In a haze he toppled over, grunting as he hit the bed of the cart. The masked man whistled at the sight, pulling a small packet from his belt as he scrutinised Nikolai’s convulsing form.

“At the least, you have proven the value of my alchemical skills.” The flat voice seemed far more sinister to Nikolai’s ears at this moment.

Leaning over the masked man poured the powder into a small mug and added in a measured dose of glittering powder from the packet. Once he was satisfied with the mixture, the man grasped Nikolai’s head and poured the concoction down his throat. The liquid burned on its way down, a sharp flavour assailing his tongue and a horrible stinging like there were dozens of insects crawling around the inside of his mouth. Nikolai wanted to spit, but the man gripped even tighter, forcing him to swallow.

The masked man retreated to his seat and kept a close watch as Nikolai recovered. The convulsions retreated and Nikolai found his mind expanding. That was the only way to describe the odd sensation. As if he could think of a thousand things at once. Everything felt clearer and the spell structures he’d seen in the silver mask came back into focus for a few blissful seconds before the moment of clarity vanished.

“What was that?” Nikolai muttered under his breath, covering his eyes to avoid the suddenly glaring sunlight.

“That, was a unique concoction of mine. Without regular doses you’ll end up with… significant withdrawal symptoms.”

“Stardust.” Nikolai sighed. His hands still trembled, and while the symptoms of Stardust addiction weren’t always clear, the bizarre experience couldn’t really be anything else.

“Stardust is only the starting point. I’ve refined it with some magic and a few other items to make it far more potent.”

“Potent?” Nikolai groaned, despair worming its way into his heart. He wasn’t disciplined enough to handle even his obsession with magic, let alone an actual addiction.

“Please don’t worry Master Nikolai. It just makes you addicted faster and while the withdrawal symptoms may be severe initially, it won’t cause permanent damage.” The masked man coughed. “I think. At the least you won’t make it far if you do somehow manage to escape.”

“You think.” Nikolai chuckled mirthlessly, closing his eyes and letting the wet air brush across his face.

“Once we’ve had our… discussion I’ll let you go free with the formula of my concoction. Someone of your ability should be able to counteract the effects quickly.”

“You could have asked for an audience.” Nikolai struggled upright and waved at the caravan, a dark grimace sliding across his face at the effort it took. Whatever was in the enhanced Stardust seemed to drain him of energy even though his mind remained clear. “This… is a little excessive.”

“My… associates don’t have quite the appreciation for your skills as I do. It’s why I’m your liaison for our little band instead of one of these boors. You’d think they hadn’t even heard of magic. Why, I even caught one of those philistines praying after I cast a few spells nearby.”

“Well then why don’t we just leave quietly. I’ll be more than happy to discuss any magical technique with you.”

“I’m sure you would.” The man chuckled, bursts of silver smoke coming from underneath his mask. “However, I must remain true to the commitments I’ve already made. I’d rather trust the associates I know then the word of an Imperial War Mage. No offence intended of course.”

“Of course. So who are you?”

“Oh! My apologies.” The man bowed at the waist and summoned a swirl of energy to adorn his head like a crown. An ancient means of introducing oneself as a Mage. The crown contained information about the Mage’s history and ancestors. When magical ability was far more prevalent, it was used to show off one’s bloodline and House. It fell out of fashion after the Reclamation when the majority of magical users moved to the lands of the Avarian Council. “I am Kazimierz Podolski third rank specialist of the second Vilinian Magical Corps.”

Nikolai waved in acknowledgement, like a lord accepting his subjects greeting. Without more knowledge about his captors, the seemingly sympathetic Kazimierz was the best source of information and maybe even a means to escape. He didn’t have the capacity to rely on his martial abilities to escape, even if he was free of Stardust, but he was sure Elya would have plowed through her captors without any trouble. Her enhanced strength and Draconic powers were perfect for this sort of situation.

The exhaustion plaguing him seemed to come from his core, pulling at every muscle, like a starving beast resting deep within. He vowed to pay more attention to his physical abilities when he returned home. Elya would no doubt be happy to assist him in hunting down powerful creatures for his benefit and he set to daydreaming about an expedition with his wife to hunt a Drake.

They sat in silence as the caravan trundled along, Nikolai’s mind swirling with thoughts of escape and his family while Kazimierz appeared to be content with lazying on the cart. The smell of ash was slowly overpowered by the thick scent of blood. The change jerked him out of his reverie and Nikolai frowned at the bone white trees lining their path, mottled streaks of twisted purple snaking around their trunks.

“They say the fractured lands shine like the finest snow. Hiding their taint amongst the most pristine lands.” Kazimierz whispered, his mask wobbling with each word.

“Demons do that. Hiding within beauty.”

“You have experience in dealing with demons?”

Nikolai tried to raise his eyebrows at his captor.

“Ah. Nostrum.” Kazimierz subsided, mask tilted to the side like he was deep in thought.

Nikolai felt an itch building in his heart as they travelled further as if there was something or someone calling for him. The low, rolling hills gave him a sense of déjà vu. A magical resonance pulsed from the distance and Nikolai activated his Sight. The collar made the process agonisingly slow, and he dropped any idea of using magic in his escape.

Twisting columns of magic rose in the distance, spinning in time with currents of energy that flowed from key nodes in the land. A few quick calculations had him gasping in shock. There was only one place in the world he could be.

“So you can recognise your own work now?” Kazimierz leaned over and gestured to the energy currents. With his Sight active, Nikolai could see the agitated swirls of energy spinning around Kazimierz’ mask.

“You were here.” Nikolai breathed.

“I survived.” Kazimierz cast a quick shielding spell, an opaque dome forming around the cart. “Do you want to know how?”

Nikolai shook his head, sweat pouring from his flushed body.

This time it wasn’t the Stardust’s effects.

There was a reason he’d never returned to Galicia after the war despite the wealth of magical power and devices that remained in its ruins.

No one should have to face the death of a city by magic.

With dramatic flair, Kazimierz snapped the mask away. The silver rippling as it was pulled away by the man’s gloved hand. Nikolai’s eyes widened at the streams of multicoloured smoke that sprouted from the creature’s collar, slowly spinning in the rough shape of a head.

“Anima.” Nikolai’s mind spun. He’d only heard of these sorts of creatures from his Master once before. Forces of nature formed from the agglomeration of thousands of souls. None had been seen for thousands of years, their method of creation lost long ago. Nikolai’s emotions spun out of control in the face of the creature, anger and fear turning him into a shaky mess.

“One that you created.” When the Anima spoke it sounded like a thousand voices hissed the words.

“No. I didn’t!” Nikolai’s eyes swum as he tried to avoid the sight of the creature. The Anima known as Kazimierz faced him silently, the weight of a thousand lives in its eyeless stare. “Did you bring me here for revenge?” Helpless without his magic, Nikolai huddled in the corner, as far from the creature as possible.

Kazimierz placed the mask back on and the pressure he emitted burst like it had never existed. Nikolai calmed his racing heart frustrated at how easily he’d lost control. It was written that Animas were able to amplify feelings, feeding on them in some way and Nikolai drew a shuddering breath at the experience. Kazimierz dispelled the opaque shield and gazed at the distant ruins.

“No. Not revenge.” The disguise magic in the mask hadn’t fully settled and Nikolai could hear faint echoes of pain in Kazimierz’ voice.

“You won’t get away with this.”

“Your defiance is admirable Master Nikolai, but your associates will not be able to stop me.”

There was something dark around Kazimierz, a hunger as if he wanted to swallow everything around him. Nikolai hoped he was wrong, but the magical currents around the Anima now exuded a force that drew threads of energy and consumed them. He hung his head, praying to the Fates to keep his family safe. He had no doubt they’d find him but in the face of an Anima, especially one whose dominant soul was a Mages, he wished they wouldn’t.