Master Mages Marriage - 67 Orzega

When it was impossible to be inconspicuous in one’s own territory, it was better to prepare a disguise. However, Magical disguises required a depth and creativity Nikolai lacked. His research and abilities tended towards tangible results and devastating fire-power. Not something he could use to search for the pulses of familiar Magical energy he’d been feeling since the previous day. Since he couldn’t apply an illusion to his face and he lacked anyone with the… skills, to create an appropriate physical disguise, Nikolai could only resort to sneaking across the rooftops of Orzega with Seven in tow. His bodyguard might be one of the fabled Hands of the Emperor, but when it came to art, he was all thumbs.

Which was why disguises and subterfuge fell within Five’s sphere of influence.

Orzega blurred below him, thatched and tiled roofs all that filled his sight. Today, the town was a way station connecting Volhiniya and Arkhangelsk. But in antiquity Orzega served as the frontier of the Empire, marking the border with the Theocracy. The damage from the constant conflicts was long gone and so were most of the people, leaving for richer lands. The old fortress in the centre of the town served as a meeting hall and seat of the local Baron, but its watchtowers lay abandoned, the great wall that once guarded the town torn down for building material. Prosperity and peace filled the town rather than steel and soldiers. Yet it was still on the border. Nikolai had stood alone on the battlements looking North as disturbed by his impending meeting with the Suzdals as Imperials must have been while gazing upon the Theocracy.

Another wave of Magic passed through the air and he stumbled, skidding to a halt. Seven appeared beside him in a cloud of shadows, hands flickering to provoke him.

“I am moving quietly.” He hissed at Seven’s mocking signals. The Hands never spoke, whether by choice or compulsion, Nikolai still couldn’t tell. Despite his friendship with the Son of Heaven, there was no divulging of Royal secrets. Well, not many anyway. “Do you sense anything?”

Seven shook his head, and Nikolai sighed in disappointment. He wasn’t expecting to find the mysterious Mage immediately, but he’d rather go back to the inn and sleep. Unfortunately, when it came to hunting a Mage in hiding, even Chen in his Thunder Lancer armour would be at a loss. Which was why he’d been left behind.

Nikolai had slipped out of their inn, claiming an anonymous inspection of the town was necessary. While it was true the border town rarely received his attention, there was nothing which required his presence right now and Nikolai was certain his companions knew it. Elya’s piercing stare and sardonic smile were enough proof. Nonetheless, he’d made sure no one was following them as they scrambled onto the roof of the inn.

Raising the small wand he’d taken from his supplies, an old standard issue military wand, Nikolai chanted several scrying and discovery spells. Pulses of Magic rippled out from him, stretching to cover the entire town like a thin film. He held his breath, straining under the pressure of controlling a spell of this size, especially one for which he lacked the aptitude. He was much better at preparing runes and blasts of lightning. Seconds passed, the roof they stood on creaking under their weight as Seven paced around him in a circle, even now vigilant in the face of possible threats.

Using his Magical Sight, Nikolai peered into the shadowy depths of the town. Sparks of light flickered in his vision, Magical devices activated for a moment, Aura enhanced soldiers training, even a Drake caged in some Nobles villa. A wave of Magic from the East drew his attention, and he narrowed his focus, chanting to direct the spell to cover a series of buildings in the merchants district. Small spells were being cast, reacting with something to create the energy signatures he’d sensed earlier.

“Got it. Eastern side.”

[Are you sure this time?] There was something about the way Seven gestured that evoked the sensation the Hand was making fun of him. Nikolai grunted, trying not to hang his head in shame. Earlier he’d traced several pulses of Magic into a minor Noble’s manor. Sneaking into the manor’s treasury they’d come upon an ancient device designed for… pleasure, and the unfortunate elderly couple enjoying it immensely. He’d struck with a spell to induce sleep, embarrassed at both the failure and the wrinkled, sweaty forms which he couldn’t burn from his memory.

“I’m sure.” Nikolai cast another spell, judging the waves of energy for a moment. “At least it’s coming from a person this time.”

[Hope so. Had enough sagging skin for one day.]

“Please don’t remind me.” Nikolai whispered as he slid down slanted shingles, leaping across an alley to land with bent knees and a sigh of relief.

[You’re doing much better.]

“Got plenty of exercise.”

[Of course.] Nikolai resisted the urge to tear Seven’s pinky off. The offending digit was curled in such a way that he couldn’t see it as anything but a mockery.

Since Nikolai absorbed the Ancient Imperial blood, his stamina improved drastically. Maybe not on par with capable Aura wielders but for a Mage who spent most of his time hunched over books it was impressive. His blood seemed to throb in agreement, filling his body with a stream of energy. Almost drunk with exuberance at the freedom he felt, Nikolai hopped from one roof to another, twisting and turning in time with the beat of his heart.

“It’s that one.” He waved at the three storey inn. Only a few rooms were lit up and his gaze fell upon a room in the corner of the second floor. In his Sight the entire room was covered in powerful barriers and wards. “Give me a minute to prepare some breaching spells and then we can go through. Remember we want to capture not kill. This could all be something innocuous.”

[In that case why not knock?]

“This Mage is on my lands without permission. There are protocols that must be adhered to.”

[You Mages are strange. But what’s the real reason?]

“Upstart’s been messing with my head with their inconsiderate waves of Magic. Retribution is due.” Nikolai coughed. “Actually, Orzega is close to one of the last known stable Demon gates. A Mage messing around here is already blacklisted.”

[Whatever. Let me know when to go.] Seven settled his mask until only his deep blue eyes were visible and with practised ease, two spinning daggers appeared in his hands.

Nikolai spun his own wand, grinning at the imitation while spells formed on his fingertips. Barriers sprung up around him. Defences were always the top priority for any Mage. As evidenced by the mysterious Mage’s room. At this distance anything powerful enough to break through his opponent’s wards would immediately draw attention. The only option was to prepare dozens of small spells and chain them together at the last moment. It was an approach pioneered by Grandmaster Shubukin during the war, giving Imperial forces the edge they needed against Nostrum’s cabal.

Dozens of glowing runes spun around his hands, flickering as they passed through the rough shroud Nikolai conjured to hide his spell casting. Satisfied with his preparations, he thrust the wand towards his target. In a flash of light two streams of runes streaked across the sky, pouring into the barrier in a wave, linking with each other to form two powerful spells. Seven vanished into the shadows and Nikolai shot through the melting barrier and into the room. It was a professional courtesy to issue a reprimand in person. The barrier twisted behind Nikolai as his second spell triggered and formed a seal around the room. He didn’t want the rest of the inn to be damaged.

A hooded figure was chanting within the room, balls of fire shooting from his hands to turn the room into an inferno. Nikolai grunted as his barriers cracked but he responded in a flash, bursts of wind swirling around him, his Law spinning into existence. The flames were doused in short order and Nikolai made a cutting motion with his hand, a blade of wind and lightning tearing through the room to shatter against a shield within the room. The Mage hurled bolts of ice through the shield to burst against a storm of lightning Nikolai raised. Devices, artifacts and paper exploded across the room as waves of swift Magic ignited the air between them, coating the floors and walls with scraps and dust.

A cloud appeared behind the Mage, resolving into Seven stabbing towards his back. The attack punctured the Mage’s shield, striking his cloak only to be turned away at the last moment by some sort of leather armour. A string of curses fell from the man’s lips as he stumbled under the force of Seven’s strike. He spun, a Law of ice rising in his wake.

Nikolai froze.

Not at the exposed Master Mage, but the familiar Law and face. The hood had fallen off as he turned, revealing Nikolai’s Master, Coursouz Etenani. A cold blast of air struck Nikolai as Seven collided with Etenani, flaming shadow Magic tearing at the spikes of ice appearing throughout the room.

“Seven stop!” Nikolai shouted, shocked into action by the impact. The Hand slipped aside, avoiding a series of Magic bolts to arrive before Nikolai. “Master, it’s me Nikolai!”

Etenani’s Magic dissipated and his wrinkled face twisted in surprise. He’d aged since the last time Nikolai saw him at the end of his apprenticeship, deeper lines and weathered skin signs of his long travels.

“Didn’t think you’d attack me.” He grumbled. “Expected those nutty Avarian Crusaders to show up. Now help me clean this mess. Hop to it boy!”

Nikolai jumped, hurrying to retrieve the scattered pages lying on the ground, belatedly realising how easily he’d fallen into the role as an apprentice.

“Master? What in the name of the Fates are you doing here?” The last letter he received placed the old Mage in southern Teristan, wading through the great deserts in search of relics.

“Came for your wedding.” Etenani groaned, lowering himself onto the shattered bed, not interested in cleaning the room.

“That’s on Winter’s Night.”

“Strange. I’m sure it’s already time.”

“It’s also in the Capital.”

“Huh… Well in that case.” Unperturbed, the old Mage scratched at his beard, flakes of dead skin settling on his wine stained coat. “Got any booze?”

[At least this one’s wearing pants.] Seven’s remark brought a sad smile to Nikolai’s face. He wondered how long that would be true.