The Sins of Sorcery, Part 2: Blood Deepening

Shadows walk with frightening howl

’midst crimson flames, an air most foul

Prepare to take your final breath

When demons come, your fate is death

- Old rhyme from the Dark Days, author unknown

56 AT

“Your defence leaves too many gaps! I could have finished you multiple times by now!”

Gritting her teeth in anger, Jeanna changed her grip on the spear, shifting to a higher stance before stepping forward to deliver a quick flurry of thrusts. Her opponent hopped backwards, his own weapon already twisting to deflect her first two strikes. As the third attack flashed towards him, he suddenly rushed in, nudging her spear to the side and snaking past it to crack her on the wrists. She yelped and dropped the weapon, stumbling away. Her boots slipped on the leaves underfoot, and she crashed to the ground, landing heavily on her back.

For a few seconds, she simply lay there, catching her breath and gazing up at the patch of blue sky visible between the clouds above. Why are we even doing this, she thought to herself. Then Andel walked into view, blue eyes sparkling, his dark ponytail hanging over his shoulder. “You over-extended again,” he said with unconcealed amusement, as he held out a hand. She took it, and he helped her to her feet.

They stood in a small hollow, a secluded location atop a forested hill. The place was ringed by large rocks, creating a natural bowl, and the ground was carpeted in orange leaves fallen from the boughs that stretched overhead. The early afternoon sun slanted through the branches, bathing the hollow in warm yellow light.

“You’re just too fast,” Jeanna grumbled sourly, brushing dirt from her clothes. She grimaced at him. “There’s no way I can keep up when we use spears.”

“That’s no excuse for sloppiness,” he chuckled. Her training spear floated off the ground and into his hand, and he pointed it at her. “You’re still making too many unnecessary movements; you should go over the basic exercises again until you’re more comfortable holding a spear. Your mistakes are small, but your stances get muddled, and an experienced fighter can exploit that weakness with ease.”

Jeanna sighed impatiently, massaging her wrists. “I’ll keep that in mind when I’m going around challenging every experienced fighter I see to a duel,” she said dryly. “Come on, I’m good enough with a sword, aren’t I? Why keep bothering to learn the spear?”

Andel pursed his lips, and tossed the spears aside; they arranged themselves neatly into place against a nearby rock. “It’s true, you’ll almost certainly never find yourself in a situation where your life depends on your proficiency with a spear,” he said, “not so long as that stone is in your forehead. And you’re right, you’re one tricky fiend with a sword. But even if you never touch another spear in your life, this is still a part of your education. I have said this many times before; my teachings are about acknowledging and understanding your own humanity. If you cannot comprehend what it is to be powerless – if you allow your power to become your whole identity – you are nothing but a vessel for that power. That is the path I am trying to steer you away from.”

Jeanna ran a hand through her shoulder-length hair. “I know,” she sighed, turning away and summoning a waterbag over from the pile of their belongings at the side of the hollow, “but I just don’t understand the point of… well, most of the things you teach me.” Along with teaching her various types of weapons, Andel had interspersed her sorcery practice with lessons on everything from woodwork to fishing. Seeing the many hidden sides of the man was amusing, but the purpose of wasting time on such activities was lost on her. The waterbag arrived in her hand, and she took a deep swig.

“You probably won’t, not for a good while,” her mentor said, “but as long as you refuse to spend time in a city or town to truly experience life as a commoner, these lessons will continue. That was our bargain, after all. Not many in the Order share my views, but an education independent of sorcery is the most valuable gift I can impart to you.” Another waterbag wandered through the air and into the man’s hand.

Jeanna clicked her tongue. Andel was always pushing her to try living a pretend life among the powerless masses, and she had always been averse to the idea. She had been powerless, once, but that life was no longer hers. Now, she stood on a grander stage. She felt no animosity towards those beneath her – their weakness was no fault of theirs – but was it truly necessary for her to stoop down to their level when she held the power to do whatever she wanted?

They stood in silence for a few moments, drinking and catching their breath, until finally Andel spoke again. “Alright, why don’t we–”

A sudden voice cut him off, and Jeanna jumped despite herself.

“Jeanna,” the voice whispered, “an urgent message.”

The words appeared in her head like her own thoughts, unheard but understood. Startled, she glanced over at Andel, who nodded; he was receiving it as well.

“Two demons have been detected near the town of Little Gallity, south-west of your location. Go with Andel immediately, and rendezvous with Maryssa at the Saroh Priest’s Crossing, east of Little Gallity. She will direct you from there. Good luck.”

The voice faded, and the stone in her forehead throbbed gently. Her head spun; this was only the third time she had been contacted directly by the Wizened, and she was still not quite used to the sensation. Then she was hit with the shock of what she had just been told. “Demons?” she gasped, staring at her mentor in disbelief. “Real demons?”

Andel was frowning. “This is troubling,” he muttered darkly, turning to their packs. “We’re leaving immediately. Take only what you need.”

Jeanna gaped, and then scrambled after him. Demons. The news was disquieting, and so was Andel’s reaction. Demons had not appeared on the continent once in the many years since the Dark Days. This was surely a bad omen, she thought, as she gathered up a few of her belongings – including her beloved short sword, which she belted to her waist – and followed Andel out of the hollow and down the hill.

They had left their horses at one of the Order’s safehouses in a nearby city, but they made good time nonetheless, moving quickly through the quiet countryside by way of gliding. It was a tricky technique, requiring two people with steady focus and coordination. Levitating your own body was next to impossible, but a pair working carefully together could lift each other and move through the air in tandem. Jeanna and Andel had practised a great deal, and they flew south-west through the forested terrain at about the pace of a galloping horse, staying in the cover of trees as much as possible to avoid the risk of being seen. Sometimes they had to set each other down to navigate thickly forested sections on foot, or if they had no choice but to cross open roads or large tracts of farmland. These walking breaks passed in silence; Andel seemed lost in thought, barely responding to Jeanna’s verbal prodding, and so her mind was left to wander.

She had been taught about demons, of course; horrible, vicious beasts that dug up to the surface from deep underground, wreaking death wherever they went. Armed with high strength and speed, they were also capable of sorcery, although their apparent skills were vastly inferior to those of the sorcerers. Even so, part of their power manifested in a tight barrier of energy across their skin, which would nullify any attempt to directly break or manipulate their bodies with kinetic force. It also made them somewhat resistant to many indirect attacks, such as fire. They were fearsome foes indeed, and swarms of the creatures had taken advantage of the chaos of the Dark Days to run rampant across the continent, taking countless lives. No army had been able to stand against them, and their destruction had only been halted by the tireless work of the Order, who eventually managed to hunt down and exterminate every last one.

But now, the demons were back. Why? Jeanna had no hope of answering that question, but she did know one thing: she was excited. She had always wondered wistfully what it would be like to pit her strength against one of the fabled monsters. The most action she had seen since joining the Order was the day she had delivered justice to that vile man Homwell, and even that had left her unsatisfied. She longed for a chance to go all out, for a battle against an extraordinary foe that would push her to her limits. Supposedly, most demons were not difficult to kill with the right strategy, but that did not dampen her mood. Once detected, the demons would still take over a full day to reach the surface, which meant the confrontation would be tomorrow. Even though the news of their sudden appearance was worrying, she could not deny her mounting anticipation.

She was also looking forward to seeing Maryssa again. Jeanna liked the woman, though it had been several years since their last meeting. Maryssa was one of the Order’s combat experts who worked closely with the Wizened on important matters. During her work, she was cold as ice; but outside of it, she was one of the few sorcerers who had acted with anything other than polite indifference towards Jeanna. The prospect of fighting alongside her was also a source of excitement.

The hours passed, and when the sun dipped below the horizon, Andel called a stop. “We’ve covered a good distance,” he said. “If we leave at sunrise, we’ll easily reach the rendezvous point by late afternoon.”

As night fell around them, they set a meagre fire and ate a quick dinner of meat and bread before laying out their sleeping mats. As she sat down on hers, Jeanna decided she could stand the silence no longer.

“What’s been on your mind all afternoon?” she asked, and winced inwardly at how sharp the question had sounded. Andel ignored her completely, lying down and staring mutely up at the sky. She sighed quietly, looking up at the moon, barely visible through the trees. Vast clouds were drifting across its path. The night was calm, quiet, and still.

This was very unlike him, she thought. Not once could she remember him ever retreating into himself like this. The news of demons had probably unearthed unpleasant memories from the Dark Days. He had always been protective of his own history, refusing to divulge stories from his past, though she knew he had taken part in those long demon hunts. She decided not to push the matter further. They had enough to worry about, with whatever tomorrow would bring. She stretched, preparing to lay down.

“During the tail end of the Dark Days,” Andel began suddenly, “a few years before the signing of the treaty.” Jeanna froze, staring at the man’s face, half-lit by the fire. “No part of the land had escaped unscathed, but some small towns and villages still led some semblance of a normal life. They kept to themselves, and defended their homes as best they could.” He paused, and she waited silently, holding her breath.

“I was on the trail of a demon, a nasty one. It had already laid waste to at least one village, and I hoped to deal with it before it could do the same elsewhere. I caught up to it just as it reached a little village by the name of Redleaf, in northern Astella. I slew the demon, and managed to save the majority of the village. Of course, that brought its own share of problems. Many of the residents had seen what I did.”

Witnesses. One of the first things Jeanna had been taught upon joining the Order was that their existence must be kept a secret, no matter the cost. Witnesses would lead to rumours, which would lead to stories, and investigations, and inevitably the Order would be dragged out of the shadows. If the villagers had seen him in action, he would have had to kill them.

But the story took a surprising turn. “However, the people of Redleaf welcomed me with warmth and gratitude for saving them; so different from the fear and hostility that I was used to.” He snorted humourlessly. “When faced with their kindness, I could not bring myself to do what needed doing. I… had too much innocent blood on my hands already, and for once, I did not want death to be the only answer.”

Jeanna’s eyes widened. Andel had disobeyed the Order?

“So I came to a decision,” he continued. “I made the entire village swear to conceal the truth about me. With how isolated every settlement was during those years, I thought it would be safe if the secret was limited to the one village… or at least, that was the excuse I chose to fool myself with.”

He paused again, and Jeanna watched his face closely; but it betrayed no emotion. Where was this story heading? This was the first time he had ever spoken so openly about his past, and she hung on his every word.

“I decided to stay in the village for a time, to ensure that they would uphold their promise, and to defend them again if the need arose. And, I admit, I also yearned for the taste of a regular life. For the chance to spend time amongst commoners. After so many years of horror, I could not resist the allure of passing the days in a peaceful village. And so I helped them rebuild and recover from the damages they had suffered over the past several years. I helped expand their agriculture, to the point where they could healthily sustain themselves. And during it all, I fell in love.”

She frowned slightly at those words. Love? She could not say she truly understood the concept, as a member of the Order. Interacting with commoners any more than necessary was uncouth, after all, and most sorcerers did not even see one another for years at a time. Not to mention, starting a family was out of the question. Disobedience, and love with a commoner… if she did not know Andel’s distaste for lies, she would have thought the story was an elaborate joke.

“Her name was Semmis, and she supported me more than anyone. When some in the village quietly questioned my presence, it was Semmis who persuaded them to accept me. She gave me the life that had always been out of reach, always denied to me for what I was… and with her, I was able to feel truly human for the very first time. We were wed in the village square, on a warm summer’s day.” As he spoke, his face remained completely expressionless, and his tone was perfectly flat. Somehow, it felt odd to her.

“Time passed, and one day we learned that she was with child. It was a joyous occasion; I learned new emotions that day. We talked about how we would build our family… we even prepared names for the baby. Dylan, if it was a boy… and Jeanna, if it was a girl.”

Silence stretched over the campsite, draping over Jeanna’s head like a heavy blanket, and she blinked. So that’s where he got the name from, she thought hazily. But she could not truly register what he had just said. His story kept getting more and more unthinkable. How could he have been swayed so far from the Order’s laws?

And then she realised how the story was doomed to end. Looking at his stony face – his eyes staring coldly at the sky above – she felt a sudden pang of emotion.

“Of course, I knew it could not last,” he went on, “but I hid myself from the truth. I had finally learned what happiness was, and I was hanging on to it with everything I had, dragging my wife and the rest of the villagers along with me. I was selfish, and a coward.”

Jeanna was finding it hard to breathe. This was nothing like what she had expected, when he had begun talking. She almost wished he would stop.

“Not long afterwards, my time ran out. The Wizened had been busy snuffing out demons and constructing the Web to put an end to the issue, not to mention laying the groundwork for the Continental Treaty. But they had sensed my feelings, of course, and eventually they ran out of patience for me and my happy little fantasy. My punishment was to wipe Redleaf Village off the map.”

His words were wooden, emotionless. “Semmis was the first. I could not bear to let her see what I was about to do. By the next day, there was nothing left of Redleaf Village – or its people – but scorched earth. Redleaf Village no longer exists.”

Jeanna’s mind was reeling. She felt as though she should say something, but she had no words to offer. What was supposed to be a simple tale of demons had turned into something beyond her comprehension. How could he expect her to take this all in? And why had he decided to share this dark chapter of his past?

As if reading her mind, he suddenly turned his head to look straight at her, over the solemnly dancing flames. “I am telling you this now, so that you understand. We are bound to the Order. These stones in our heads, they serve us; but the Wizened serve the stones, and we serve the Wizened. Truly, we are nothing more than tools with an illusion of autonomy.” He chuckled sadly, looking back up at the sky. “I have not given you freedom; I’ve simply led you into slavery of a different kind.”

Silence fell once more. Jeanna followed his gaze, seeking the moon; but it was gone, hidden by the clouds. The fire popped softly, but it was no longer comforting. She felt cold.

“The story of Redleaf is one of pain, and failure,” Andel said quietly, his voice finally softening, “but the months I spent there were the happiest and most important of my life. It was during that time that I realised how much there is to learn by experiencing a life outside the bounds of the Order; by being part of a community, and forging relationships. And in the end, I was taught the true horror of killing.”

He shifted underneath his rug. “This life of ours strips us of many things,” he murmured, “but I wish that one day, things can be different. Until then, my lessons serve to make you aware of what you lack. I hope that you will come to understand, in time.”

“I… see,” she mumbled, unsure of what to say. This was far too much for her to process. Why was he doing this to her?

But he was not done yet. “One more thing, Jeanna.” He had adopted his lecturer’s tone. “I imagine you might be feeling excited about facing a demon in battle.” She grimaced; was she really that transparent? “It is natural for sorcerers, with our unrivalled power, to become bored without an opportunity to test our full strength in combat. But there are dangers there, too. If you allow your lust for battle to guide your actions, you will become no better than the demons themselves.”

That, at least, she understood, and it cowed her mood slightly. He had a point, she supposed, and she felt a touch of shame for being so excited. Still, what was the harm in having fun when the opportunity arose?

“You must never become complacent with death,” he continued gravely. “During your little revenge spree a few years ago, I’m sure you viewed everyone in your path as an enemy, no matter what. But did you stop to spare a thought for any of your victims? I would not blame you for not doing so; on that one occasion. But in a situation like this – when we cannot choose our battlefield – there is a real possibility that innocent people may happen to witness the fighting. Could you kill them, too, without remorse?”

The question hung in the air, and she looked at him in confusion. Of course she would kill anyone unlucky enough to be a witness. She would do whatever necessary to uphold the Order’s sanctity, and she was not about to go falling in love, as he had. She opened her mouth to say so, but Andel cut in before she could speak.

“I hope you will give this some thought,” he said, rolling over to face away into the trees. “Now, we should get some sleep.” And with that, it was over.

Jeanna sat silently for several long minutes, overwhelmed, her thoughts rattling around in her skull so loudly that she thought Andel must be able to hear them. After a while, she could bear it no longer, and lay down to seek refuge in sleep. But she lay awake for a long time, as the campfire slowly simmered and died; and when she finally lost consciousness, her dreams were tormented by chains and blood.

The next morning passed in a blur. Andel was back to his normal self, as if nothing had happened, and Jeanna decided not to bring it up. As they travelled, he kept up a steady flow of advice about battling demons.

“Remember that detecting auras goes both ways; we will sense the demons’ presence, but they will also sense ours. Working as a team, there are several ways we can deal with this…”

Much of the information was not new to Jeanna, but with the fight only hours away, it was a useful refresher. She tried to pay attention when she could, but her mind was elsewhere. Her thoughts kept returning to the previous night’s conversation.

“... barrier denies direct kinetic attacks, but a decent amount of force is enough to smash through it with a physical object. Accumulating suitable projectiles should be a priority. That sword of yours may also…”

She still found it hard to believe that a man like Andel had done those things. He had never once shown hesitation in following his directives or upholding the Order’s law. But she trusted him more than anyone, so she knew his words must have been true. As for the things he had said after recounting his story… there was far too much for her to think about.

The sun peaked in the cloudy sky and began to descend. More small villages and farms dotted the countryside now, forcing them to walk more and more often. Sometimes they passed within sight of other people, who waved and called a greeting; Andel would raise a hand in response, but Jeanna ignored every one, absorbed in her own mind.

A few hours later, they finally reached their destination. Following the road over the crest of a hill, they saw the Saroh River in front of them, ambling from east to west through the partly forested land, gleaming pleasantly in the afternoon sun. The road angled down the hill, intersecting with the route that led west to Little Gallity, before running down to the bridge that spanned the river: the Saroh Priest’s Crossing. She was not too familiar with the story – something about this Saroh Priest person supposedly constructing a bridge here single-handedly – but she thought that if the priest were still alive, he would be offended. After all, the original bridge had been removed long ago, so that ships could travel the river. An impressive two-sided drawbridge now stood in its place, currently down, and a cluster of small buildings sat on the opposite bank.

In the shade of the trees on the roadside at the base of the hill, a tall woman in a long-sleeved, navy blue riding dress was waiting next to a large grey horse. The woman’s hair was long, black and wavy, and her dark chestnut face was round, with a sharp nose. She held a small leather notebook in one hand, and was scribbling in it with a troubled expression.

The woman looked up and smiled as the two travellers approached, stuffing the book into the satchel that hung over her shoulder. “Jeanna, my girl!” she called jovially. Her voice was rich, and her brown eyes were joyful. “I see you still haven’t gotten any taller, have you?”

“Hello, Maryssa,” Jeanna replied, grimacing. It was true, though she did not see the fun in pointing out how short she was.

“As for you, Andel,” Maryssa continued wryly, turning her attention to him, “why, is that grey in your hair? Don’t tell me your age is finally catching up to you, old man?”

“A pleasure to see you again, too,” he said politely, mirroring Jeanna’s expression. Maryssa chuckled.

“You look well, Maryssa,” offered Jeanna, and the older woman smiled.

“Of course I do!” she crowed proudly, smoothing her hair. “I’m still in my eighties, after all. Much younger than one of the people here.”

Jeanna snickered as Andel’s face soured further. He had never shared his exact age, but she knew he must be over ninety. The sorcerers’ gemstones blessed their hosts with extended vitality; most in the Order survived past their fifteenth decade, and could still perform duties up until their final day. The Wizened – with their second stones – lived even longer. The vast majority of sorcerers were Maryssa’s age; the Cardinal Generation, they were called, a legacy dating back to the Order’s founding. Jeanna herself was somewhat of an outlier, being the youngest in the Order by over two decades. No sorcerers had died in many years, and so no new sorcerers had been created. Such was the nature of the Order and the stones.

“As amusing as this is,” Andel said flatly, “we have demons to attend to, don’t we?”

Maryssa’s smile vanished. “You’re right,” she agreed, in a sudden business-like tone, putting an end to the niceties. “I’m glad you two arrived when you did, actually; any longer and I would have had to leave a note for you.” She reached into her satchel and withdrew two scrolls. “Maps with the demons’ expected exit ranges,” she said, handing them out. “They’ve turned in slightly different directions, so you’ll have to split up and deal with one each.” Jeanna took the proffered map with a steady hand, but inwardly she was startled. I’ll be taking one on by myself?

She unrolled the parchment and looked at it as Maryssa kept talking. “One of them’s headed west, just north of Little Gallity. The other’s going to a largely unpopulated area east of here.” Two red circles on the map marked the locations. “It looks like they’ll both be surfacing shortly before midnight. Andel, you should take the one outside Little Gallity, in case it gets ugly.”

“And you?” the man asked, studying his map with a frown.

Maryssa sighed puffily, fumbling with her satchel. “Two more demons have been detected near the border to the south, so I’m afraid I have to go and take care of them.” She patted the bag, satisfied, and turned to her horse. “It’s been mad, I tell you; the Web’s been pinged in over a dozen places in the last couple of days, all over the continent. Seems like the bastards are looking to stir up quite the dungstorm!”

Jeanna’s mouth fell open. “Over a dozen demons?” she blurted. Her earlier excitement was melting into trepidation. The first demon appearance in over half a century, and they were digging their way up in force? What was going on?

“Troubling news, indeed,” murmured Andel, finally looking up from the map.

“Well, you two just focus on your current targets,” Maryssa said, as she hoisted herself into the saddle. “If you don’t hear from the Wizened by morning, head south to Lyreville; I’ll meet you at the Broken Bowl at dusk, the day after next. Andel, you know the place.”

The man grunted affirmatively. “See you there. Jeanna, we should have a word.”

“Right…” Her mind whirling, she looked up at Maryssa one more time. “Uh, good luck, Maryssa,” she said faintly, and the other woman barked a short laugh.

“Don’t you worry about me, my girl; I can handle two demons any day. Why, when this is over I’ll tell you about the time I battled four at once!” Her face grew serious, and she looked at Jeanna almost sadly. “Though I must say, it is lamentable that a junior like you should have to confront a demon. I hoped the newer generations would be spared the horrors of the Dark Days.” She turned her horse towards the river, calling back over her shoulder. “Well, give it a good pounding, you hear?” And with that, she rode off, galloping out onto the bridge.

“Now then,” said Andel, tapping the map in his hand. “Since the situation has changed, we need to have a little talk.”

They stood by the side of the road as Andel imparted some final advice to Jeanna, reinforcing important information and offering his opinions for the upcoming battle. The shadows inched along the ground, and the faint hint of a breeze tickled their cloaks and hair, carrying the scent of rain. Dark grey clouds, reddening in the evening sky, slid lazily in from the north. After a short while, Andel folded the map and pocketed it.

“We should get moving,” he sighed, and looked at her gravely. “We will reconvene here when it’s over.” She nodded solemnly, murmuring agreement, and he placed a hand gently on her head. “Remember your training, Jeanna, and you will be fine. Trust in your strength. Good luck.”

Withdrawing his hand, he turned and departed down the road towards Little Gallity, striding away quickly. Jeanna watched him for several long moments; and then, with butterflies in her stomach, she spun and vanished into the trees.