Master Mages Marriage - 64 Volume 1 Epilogue

“The Masssster is waiting.”

Kazimierz focussed on the voice, frustrated at his inability to find anything in the void prison. His soul still ached at the last attack Morales had launched, the wounds in his core pulsing with terrifying brilliance. It took most of his powers to keep the strange energy at bay. A human or Imperial would have turned to dust in the face of that power.

But he was neither.

The bars of energy around him dissipated and Kazimierz floated after the shadowy figure which had spoken. Injured as he was, there was no way to tell how long he’d been locked up. Nothing existed in the void, only a grey haze that served as a floor. Not like he needed one after his… change.

A rift split open and they stepped into a marble palace. Fluted columns held up glistening arches and a dome of glass stretched over a glittering crystal throne. Kazimierz gaped at the hall as they moved towards the throne. He’d only ever read about buildings like this from far before the Reclamation. Palaces like this would have belonged to the greatest Archmages or Demigods. They would have been the first targets during that conflict and as far as he knew, nothing like this existed anymore. The shadow leading him skittered to kneel at one side of the throne, surrounded by a handful of identical beings.

“Yes. Reconstructing this palace took time and effort but seeing visitors express such wonderment is reason enough to have done it, wouldn’t you say?” The speaker must have been the Master of the palace. Draped in flowing black clothes he lounged on his throne and radiated pure, unadulterated might. The ancient force he emitted was enough for Kazimierz to recognise him as his rescuer. Dressed like a moderately successful merchant, there was nothing about the man that screamed of danger and power but his very presence cowed Kazimierz, like his authority was a Divine right, an overwhelming pressure that demanded obedience.

“Where are my companions?”

“Safe. Morales did a number on you lot.”

“Where are they?”

“Why do all my guests behave the same way?” the man released a long-suffering sigh, his breath carrying an ancient loneliness and sadness that pulled at Kazimierz’ soul. “They’re all resting and recovering from that sealing spell. I doubt even Morales realised how lethal that could be since you people still had to consolidate your powers. Good thing I was paying attention and managed to get you out.”

“Lethal?” Kazimierz’ hands twitched, losing coherence for a moment, a deep searing pain clawing at his soul.

“Don’t worry so much. I’ve assisted your companions.” The man waved Kazimierz’ gratitude away and stared at him with such intensity that Kazimierz could feel his body unravelling. He shuddered, just a look from this man was able to overwhelm him. “You on the other hand pose a more interesting challenge. That last attack was astonishing even by our measure. It will take some time to clear up the damage.”

“And what do you want in return?” Kazimierz stepped back, wariness rising deep in his heart. He’d never believed the man to be so generous as to help them for free. Serving under Nostrum and his cabal proved that.

“Obviously I require something, but nothing so onerous for you to be so wary.” The man strode to a window and beckoned for Kazimierz to join him, gesturing at their surroundings. Snow blanketed the land outside the palace, mountains towering around them as far as the eye could see. Movement in the distance resolved into a pack of humongous beasts trekking towards the palace, squads of little creatures scurrying in their wake.

“Anima are formed in two ways.” The man explained suddenly, eyes closed and head tilted towards the dim sunlight peeking through clouds. “A natural conglomeration of souls that merges together or a disaster which leaves behind innumerable souls, cut off from transcending to the afterlife, cycle of reincarnation or wherever the Fates they actually go. Have no idea. Once formed one of the souls gains dominance and provides direction, although it may be suppressed or have trouble doing things that go against the consensus.”The man paused, eyes glittering as he stared at Kazimierz. “Which is what you were after Galicia.”

“First stage Anima.” Kazimierz had no idea what this had to do with his demand.

“Yes, your… guide… taught you well.”

Kazimierz flinched at mention of the strange woman who’d approached him when they were bound to Galicia and offered a means of escape. She’d been very clear on what would

“No need to worry. Eternity and I are old friends.” The man smiled for a moment. “For an Anima to evolve the souls can be forced apart using certain techniques and spells until dominant personalities can break down the remaining souls and reform. That’s what we call a fractured Anima.” He pointed at Kazimierz. “The other option is for the dominant personality to overpower all the other souls and absorb them.” The man pointed at himself, his eyes turning into a deep yawning chasm that drew on his soul for an instant. Kazimierz burst into smoke, losing all coherence and he swirled away to reform in the distance.

“I forget how it affects you. It’s been a long time since I’ve interacted with my own kind.” The man returned to his throne, peering at Kazimierz through tented fingers.

“What does this have to do with what you want?” Kazimierz hissed, still trembling at the terrifying sensation of staring into the man’s eyes.

“I’m coming to that. Each of the methods to advance have their own advantages and disadvantages, which aren’t relevant right now. However both of us share certain traits. Our connection with the land itself forces us to obey its rules and act honestly but further development requires us to absorb more souls, which people tend to frown upon. Having a city vanish overnight raises eyebrows.” Kazmierz shivered at the apathy in the man’s voice. He knew they required souls, but casually absorbing a city seemed heinous. “Oh you’ll lose your inhibitions once the hunger sets in. But the contradiction in our needs and our nature is strange isn’t it? Sometimes I wonder if souls are just passengers on this land, existing to be devoured or pass on when their lives end. Either way might as well eat them if you ask me. Still, your solution intrigues me. What made you consider making and eating a God?”

Kazimierz blanched at the man’s words, terrified by how his plans were seen through. He’d spent months of their temporary freedom from Galicia sneaking into libraries across the world to prepare, unwilling to resort to devouring humans. It might be pure sentiment but it had felt like a good idea at the time. Furthermore, the benefits in developing their powers would be immeasurable. If the soul of a sentient being would sustain them for a while then the sustenance from the soul of a God would be… eternal.

“In any case. My proposal is simple, I will help and protect you in return for access to your research.”

“Agreed.” There wasn’t much of a choice, the power the man displayed was enough to take him apart in moments if he disagreed. “However Morales still has access to the focus and could find us.”

“I’ll distract Morales. He has far more worrying things to deal with, anyway.”

“He could take us apart once he realises the powers hidden wi…”

“Enough!” The man barked, his shout shaking the palace to its very foundations. “Morales must live. He’s far too important for your petty vengeance.”

Kazimierz blanched at the noise, but quickly recovered. It felt like his time back in the Vilinian Magical Corps, angry leaders and mysterious orders. Bowing in apology he summoned his introductory crown, thrilled at the swirl of fire emblazoned at its peak which signified his status as a Master Mage. “Apologies. I am Master Kazimierz Podolski, formerly of the Second Vilinian Magical Corps. I am truly grateful for your assistance benefactor but am truly sorry for not knowing your name.”

The man chuckled at the introduction. “How delightful! I haven’t seen an introduction like that in fifteen hundred years or so. Well Master Podolski, I am but a humble purveyor of information. You may call me Savant.”

***

The courtyard was a hive of activity, carriages and carts being loaded with supplies for the journey North. Servants clad in Morales livery rushed to prepare, the Count having given the orders for their departure only the day before. Natalia had been aware of the boy’s decision in advance, considering how she’d incited him. He’d been moping in his Tower, swirling a glass of cider in one hand, Elya at his side and long-suffering looks on both their faces.

Nothing a swift strike with her cane couldn’t fix.

How a newly engaged couple could look so sombre was baffling and she’d launched into a long lecture that sent Elya fleeing in terror and the boy into a fit of rage resulting in the plan to visit Neva. Who cared what the punk on Heaven’s Throne thought? It was his blood in the end, and an Emperor shouldn’t be so finicky. Natalia snorted at the memory and rolled her wheelchair away from the window when the Morales major-domo walked into the courtyard, unleashing a tirade of shouts and furious gesticulation.

Natalia cleared her throat in embarrassment. She’d spotted the flustered major-domo cursing up a storm in the morning when they discovered the pilfered wine cellar. The Morales family was surprisingly sober and Natalia had chanced upon the cellar during one of her walks with Nikolai, racks of wine and casks of ales from all over the world gathering dust. It was criminal to let it sit and waste away.

So she’d taken action.

“Do you think they know?” she turned to her co-conspirator who was pouring a tot of Alavonian brandy from a decanter they’d ‘liberated’.

[I wouldn’t be surprised if the Baron and Count knew.] Seven signed, pulling down his mask to inhale the scent of the liquor in his glass. [The Baroness can be surprisingly dense when it comes to matters of inventory. As long as we don’t steal anything of hers we’ll be fine.]

“Liberate Seven. Li-be-rate” Natalia tapped the ground with her cane lightly to emphasise each syllable. “We’re saving these poor vintages from a life of isolation and solitude.”

[Whatever. Tastes good so I’ll play along until the Count nips it in the bud.]

“I’m his aunt. Why would he take away a feeble woman’s pleasures?”

Seven eyed her warily and pointed to her cane. [Feeble? Tell that to Nikolai’s legs.]

Natalia cleared her throat and raised the cane reflexively to lash out, but the Hand vanished into the shadows to appear in a corner of the room. They gazed at each other in silence, Seven gesturing as if his point was proven and Natalia turning away to hide the spots of colour rising on her cheeks.

Seven strode to the desk and retrieved the glass he’d poured for her, gently placing it in her hand before swiftly retreating, eyes glittering in amusement. Natalia eyed him suspiciously, the brat had gone out of his way to stay out of the range of her cane!

Rightly so, she would thump him for this effrontery! How dare he treat her like a violent woman incapable of controlling herself?

“Has the punk sent a reply?” Natalia asked after a moment, letting the powerful scent clear away the clouds in her mind. She was finding it harder to focus these days, probably age creeping up on her with its menacing tendrils.

[You shouldn’t insult the Son of Heaven in front of one of His hands.] Seven shifted uncomfortably at the lèse-majesté.

“Don’t give me any lip. I paddled that punks backside when he nicked my wine.” Natalia swung her cane menacingly, and the Hand leaned back apprehensively. “Insufferable children. Take my stash?” Muttering under her breath, she took a sip of her brandy

Seven’s lips twitched at her actions but he dutifully related the Emperors words.

[He’s not happy. The Count was supposed to subdue those powers, not absorb them.]

“It’s a losing battle. That punk better accept it and plan accordingly.”

[Emperors don’t like losing control.]

“Well, you can tell him this isn’t something he can change just because he doesn’t like it. The boy is only the first and his skills will be necessary. I’ve Seen it.”

Seven’s hands twitched, whatever he’d been about to sign pointless in the face of her words.

[What have you Seen?]

“Don’t look at me like that! I’m not senile.” Natalia paused for a moment. “Yet.” She took another sip and turned back to the courtyard to see Nikolai directing his apprentice in settling items onto one of the carriages. Magical devices no doubt. The boy had a surprising knack in their creation, far beyond his obvious combat capabilities. Leaning on a cane, he limped and berated Jarek for some incomprehensible mistake relating to force diagrams and power runes. While she hadn’t activated her abilities, Natalia had picked up many skills as a child of House Suzdal, lip reading being one of the most useful.

Elya strode into the courtyard, dressed properly for once, probably at the Baroness’ urging, with the Barsi girl trailing after her like a lost puppy. Natalia had caught her slinking from the manor so often that she’d sent one of her attendants to trail after the Knight.

The less said of her strange predilections the better. Natalia had called the Barsi girl into her chambers and berated her on behalf of the Elders of House Barsi, many of whom were her close friends, leaving her a shivering mess.

Chasing after married men like that was unbecoming.

Natalia grinned as Elya placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, drawing a smile from him and distracting him long enough for Jarek to slip away to some youths playing with sticks in one of the gardens. The boy leaned into Elya’s hand, making some comment that had her chuckling and pointing at the carriages.

“The boy’s capable. No doubt about that.” She remarked.

[The Emperor has high hopes for him.] Seven signed simply, standing beside her to observe the courtyard. [Silver Fang’s a good choice for his companion.]

“Hardly anyone calls her that.” Natalia groaned at the effort of standing up. The boy had really spoiled her with the wheelchair. Comfort aside, there were little tricks he’d installed which she couldn’t wait to try out on her stodgy brother. “Those titles are foolishness. Given by entitled Nobles to massage each other’s egos.”

[I thought she was given the name by your daughter.] How Seven was able to ‘sound’ so dry with just his fingers was astonishing.

“Entitled Nobles. The lot of them.” She grumbled, a hint of pride lacing her voice at the thought of her daughter, the wildly successful Commander of the Knights of Chernigov. “The problem remains though Seven. Nikolai will be a focal point. At least for the foreseeable future.”

[I didn’t think Truth Seers were able to foresee the future.] Seven returned to the small table holding the decanter to pour himself another shot of brandy.

Instead of answering she leaned out of the window a little, peering at the boy and circulating the essence of a Truth Seer to power her vision. The world turned into streams of energy and threads of existence, binding reality together. In her enhanced sight, Elya was a juggernaut of raw animalistic power, blood coloured strings of power rising to the sky in a dance of terrifying might, the chaotic mess showing how much effort Elya still had to put in to gain better control over her abilities. Yet woven within her power were black lines binding her to something in the East, it was something she’d noticed since the kidnapping on both her Grand Niece and Eva Morales. Natalia had her suspicions, having faced many of the Black Hand’s agents, as both friend and foe, over the years but there was something deeper about Elya’s connection.

It seemed the Savant had realised Nikolai’s importance, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. While the Savant appeared erratic and inscrutable, hidden in his mysterious lands on the border, the man always stood with the Empire. It was why so many generations of Emperors had left him to his own devices. Still, she would have to reach out to some of her old friends to dig into the matter.

Turning her eyes to Nikolai, she squinted, blinded by the innumerable bindings and threads of power which rose from him. Azure clouds of Magical energy spun over his head, crimson streams of Imperial essence wound through his veins, tiny in comparison to the behemoth that was Elya but still filled with terrifying might and his body seemed to glow mysteriously with the energy of something ancient. However his power paled in comparison to the ties he held, twisted cords spreading in every direction.

A heavy multicoloured cord stretched towards the Capital, glowing with Imperial might and majesty.

A golden thread filled with the power of a Dragon ran through him, splitting into innumerable strings that intertwined with every member of the Dragon Lords she could see.

A green binding from the North flickered constantly, almost ethereal, as if struggled to stay alive.

The most important cord shot into the sky, radiating Divinity and a demand for obeisance. Most of the time Natalia couldn’t trace the cords to their end point, sometimes they dimmed after a few feet, vanishing into whatever ether underpinned the world. Unlike her predecessor, Natalia wasn’t curious as to why some truths were easier to see than others but the Divine cord had drawn her attention since the moment the boy returned. Thick as a tree it crossed the heavens and stretched into the North-West, somewhere far beyond the Eskrar islands she feared.

From the lands of their origin.

The lands of their Gods.

The tendrils from the West had always existed, even now a fragment of the ties which bound Imperials to their Gods remained, but in Nikolai she saw a focal point. More than the Son of Heaven, the Savant, even that crazy Avarian woman in her tower beside the fractured lands, Nikolai was somehow related to whatever Divine intervention was coming and still she couldn’t decipher whether he would be the bulwark of the Empire or an agent of the Divine.

“No. I can’t see the future.” She whispered, shutting her eyes and turning away from the window. “But tell that punk he better be ready for some changes. I’ve seen his brats and they’re just as involved in whatever’s coming.”

[You could have aided the Princes instead of the Count. They’re just as likely to use their powers as he is. More so since they don’t have War Magic to fall back on.]

“I would have.” Natalia gazed at Elya and her future husband, both of them staring back at her suspiciously. They must have sensed the use of her powers. Elya was far too sensitive, but the girl focussed on Seven who’d come to stand beside her instead. Natalia was the cantankerous Grand Aunt after all. Only the boy watched her, lips twisted in a knowing smile. The boy raised his cane, an obvious imitation of her, to tap his nose suggestively.

“I know where all the alcohol’s gone.” He mouthed. Elya poked him and demanded an explanation, which the boy gave happily, no doubt exaggerating the nature of Natalia’s pilferage. Elya’s eyes shone in delight, chortling and hiding her growing smile with a hand.

“The punk messed with my girl.” Natalia said, sliding the drapes shut and settling back into her wheelchair. It was good to see Elya happy. Pride of the Suzdal’s she may be but Natalia always made sure her descendants were treated right. “Prince or not, he better run, otherwise…”

Seven nodded and leaned against a dresser, enjoying another glass of brandy.

“Why don’t you pour me another glass and I’ll tell you about the time I snuck out of Neva to become a Bard. There was this nobleman, barely noble, his family had lost their title in one of those odd branch feuds that pop up from time to time. In any case, he had the silkiest hair I’d ever seen. Both above and below…”

Seven nodded along and Natalia closed her eyes, satisfied with her choice and drinking companion.

The boy was perfect for Elya.

More or less.