Tale of a Mage

Bastian yawned as he walked through the market, ignoring the occasional snigger and insult thrown at him by some of the bystanders. After all these years, he had become immune to their attempts to antagonize him. His only social interactions were with the town librarian and the merchants he bought basic necessities from, aside from a few polite greetings to the rare individuals who were actually friendly toward him.

But something felt different today. There was a certain smell in the air a smell unusual for the market. It didn’t take him long to see why. He spotted an unfamiliar merchant in an inconspicuous corner with an assortment of books for sale. And not just any regular books. Even from a cursory glance, Bastian knew that they were incredibly old.

He walked up to the merchant and began browsing after giving the man a polite nod. Most of the books were of no use to him. They were mostly outdated or related to well-known facts. Only certain niche collectors would find them useful.

It was then that his eyes fell on a black, leather-bound book. What separated this tome from the rest was the language it was written in. It was written in the Ancient Imperial tongue, a language that had been lost to time over the centuries. From his limited knowledge of the script, he read the words “King’s Tomb” as part of the title. At that moment, he knew he had to have it. He didn’t let his excitement show, knowing the merchant might increase the price if he realized how badly Bastian wanted it.

And so, Bastian nonchalantly asked, “How much for this book?”

The merchant looked at the book, then back at Bastian. “Thirty silver.”

Bastian frowned at the price. Not because it was too expensive. In fact, it was the exact opposite. Books written in the Ancient Imperial language were exceedingly rare, with their prices typically ranging from one hundred to a thousand gold pieces. To put that in perspective, five hundred gold pieces was enough to buy a small plot of land. A thousand gold pieces could buy land, a good house, and the basic equipment needed to start a business. This was incredible news for Bastian, as he only had ten gold pieces to his name. Normally such a small value would have made him suspicious but the words were there. A cursory flip through the book showed similar scripts across the pages. The imperial seal was at the second to last page just like the genuine articles do. In short, this was real.

He quickly took out thirty silver pieces, paid the merchant, and took the book. He bid the man farewell before heading straight home.

“It seems I found a perfect scapegoat. Forgive me child, but you can only blame yourself. For you should have known that curiosity kills the cat,” the merchant muttered to himself, watching Bastian’s disappearing figure.

He flicked his hand, and several ethereal arms began sprouting from the ground. The arms grabbed his stall and dragged it down into the earth, leaving only the merchant behind. He flicked his hand again, and his clothes began to transform, replacing his once-normal garments with filthy rags. By the time he was done, he looked like an entirely different person.

“Good luck, boy,” he whispered before slipping into a dark alley.

Bastian wasted no time in studying the book. He went to his study and began rummaging through a nearby chest. Eventually, he found what he was looking for: a notebook filled with bookmarks and pasted notes. This had belonged to his grandfather, who had spent his entire life studying the Fae. Sadness flashed in his eyes as the notebook caused him to recall his time with the old man. But the grief was short-lived as he remembered the book he had just bought. After years of dead ends, he had finally found a lead.

His grandfather’s research stated that there was a connection between the Fae and the Tomb of Kings. Unfortunately, no one knew where the tomb actually was. Bastian hoped to uncover a clue within these black leather pages.

After placing both books on his desk, he opened the notebook and tried to decipher the complete title. The Imperial language was a specific cipher used among the higher nobility. They used it to share sensitive messages and edicts among themselves. The language itself was no different from the common tongues of that time, except for the fact that most of the text was heavily encoded. Even in the title, the only unencrypted text referred to the Tomb of Kings. Now, years had passed, and both the ancient version of the common language and the Imperial code had faded from history. Very few people ever bothered to learn more than a few phrases of either.

Thankfully, Bastian’s grandfather had been one of them. Throughout his career, he had gathered entire missives and painstakingly tried to decrypt the language. The result was this notebook, which contained several possible “keys” to decrypt any text he found.

After a few minutes, he managed to decipher the complete title. It read: My Journey to the Tomb of Kings. Written by High Chancellor Theodore Pendragon.

A wave of euphoria hit Bastian as he double-checked his translation. Not only had he stumbled upon a book that might lead him to a place even the nobles hadn’t been able to find in centuries, but the book was also written by one of the most legendary wizards in history. Bastian poured himself some wine to calm his nerves before resuming his work.

The next few hours consisted of him deciphering the first chapter of the book. He kept at it without taking a break, working from dusk until the first light of dawn. As the roosters began crowing, Bastian sat back, looking at the translated chapter. The first few pages detailed the author’s identity and his reasons for going on this journey. Then, it listed who would be joining him and what supplies he was taking.

Apparently, there had been unexplained magical signatures appearing throughout the Kingdom, most of which were concentrated near the Tomb of Kings. He had been commissioned by his cousin, the king at the time, Michael Pendragon, to investigate the disturbances. The Chancellor had mobilized a small squad of soldiers and set out.

The text from that point to the end of the chapter then became strange. Most of the phrases didn’t make much sense.

It took him a few moments to realize a pattern. Several words and phrases were intentionally misspelled. As Bastian isolated and rearranged those specific words, they began to form a hidden sentence:

“Between the pillars of the East and away from the Sun of dawn, the haven for the fallen lies in the embrace of the dagger of the frozen moon.”

In the eyes of a normal person, this would have been no different from gibberish. However, for Bastian, that was not the case. “The pillars of the East” referred to two mountains called the Belial Pass, situated near the east of the kingdom. They had been compared to pillars by the Third King when he first saw them due to their immense height and steepness. “Away from the Sun” was not referring to the actual sun, but rather the neighboring Elvish empire to the northwest, whose flag bore a sun emblem. “The haven for the fallen” clearly referred to the Tomb.

Bastian couldn’t figure out the meaning behind the words, “dagger of the frozen moon.” However, he had deciphered enough to know exactly where to go. It was the town of Agnir, located in the southeastern area of the Belial Pass. It was most famous for being the settlement right next to the Profaned Forest, which bordered the end of the pass.

“The dagger of the frozen moon must be somewhere inside the Profaned Forest,” Bastian deduced, rubbing his tired eyes. He had been awake the entire night, and it was taking its toll on him. But it was worth it. He finally had a destination, and nothing was going to stop him.