After a few hours of sleep, he opened his eyes. A brightness that split the sky filled the house from top to bottom.
Nine suns, each burning in a different color and hanging over the sky of Obol, greeted Lucian.
Orange, violet, cobalt, gold, and pale white tones blended together and flowed over the walls like liquid.
He had to narrow his eyes. A faint hum moved through his veins. Fatigue pulled back for a short moment and gave way to urgency.
The first thing that came to mind was Lumi. He ran to the room with the mirror. Before his face adjusted to daylight, his lips moved.
In an old, reassuring timbre, he whispered,
"Ash Factoriusy."
The surface of the mirror darkened. Gray vapors tangled together and curled away in lines. When the image cleared, Lucian held his breath.
Lumi was walking. Her shoulders were slightly slumped.
There were long, thin cuts on her arms. Blood stains on her back. A path wrapped in mist, broken stones, and a faint light in the distance.
There was no expression on her face, yet there was purpose in her movements. Lucian leaned toward the mirror.
His eyes searched as if reading between the lines. A cold blue text burned at the upper right of the mirror.
[Quest: Trace of the Soulstone]
Progress: 23%
Status: Active
A small sense of relief spread across his face over the unease that had risen within him. The quest was progressing faster than he had thought.
He had seen the cuts on her arms and the blood on her back, but he knew her body would not be harmed.
Still, she needed to be careful. He ended the spell. The mirror returned at once to an ordinary glass surface.
He needed to send Lumi a message. Time was running short. He went straight to the desk.
He gripped his staff and murmured a short summoning rite.
A small vortex formed. A black eagle, its feathers woven as if from shadows, appeared in the room.
It beat its wings once. Lucian brought his hand to the eagle's head and leaned toward its ear.
First he whispered the magical words. "Velith'aar nox, serium thal veyr, lun'kael droven, esshar marith sol.
" Then he gave his message. "Lumi, continue your quest, but move within the darkness. I know your body will not be harmed, but they must not see you. I am sending four Kargul to accompany and protect you where you are going. Finish the quest with them and return to our home."
He carried the eagle to the window. He felt the wind with his palm.
"Go."
The eagle dropped into the open air. Under the mingling light of the suns, it became a shadow and shot toward the horizon.
The sound of its wingbeats faded away completely after a few heartbeats.
Lucian turned his head. He looked at the Karguls standing silently near the door as if on watch. There were four of them.
The slight bend in their knees was the quiet sign of their obedience.
Their skin was pale, their eyes dull, and a cold stillness pouring from their shaved ribcages shaved the warmth from the room.
For a moment before he approached, the weight of having raised four dead bodies settled on his shoulders. Still, he did not waver.
"Go," he said in a calm yet sharp voice.
"Find Lumi's trail. Protect her no matter what. Finish the quest and return to me."
The Karguls bowed their heads at the same time.
They moved toward the door with silent steps. In the future he might have a Kargul army of his own, he could control them.
They vanished among the dust motes glittering in the sun.
Lucian felt the weight of solitude for a moment.
A deep silence settled over the table, the walls, and the shelves. On average, in half a day the Dark Council's hunters would come.
He could not help wondering what awaited him.
He set his staff on the table. He poured the whiskey left at the bottom of the bottle into a glass.
He closed his eyes and took a sip. The sharp taste burned down his throat. Then he reached for the journal. The black leather cover cooled his palms.
When he opened the book, a familiar scent of magic spread into the air. From between the old pages came a faint smell of ash and damp. His fingers traced the lines, moving slowly.
The content was heavy. Mostly demon summoning rituals, variations of revival, and dark forms inscribed upon body and shadow.
Notes sprinkled between them, drawings, and old typefaces. Some pages trembled as if whispers were rising from beneath them.
As Lucian turned the pages, his eyes snagged on a formula heading.
Power-draining rituals. A title that caught his attention. He set the glass gently on the table, his shoulders straightened.
Without leaning back in the chair, he drew the page closer and began to read.
According to the text, certain organs of certain animals had to be prepared in a rite, and those organs sealed with chosen words and signs.
Then they were to be consumed in the manner required by the ritual.
Then the animal's distinct advantages would pass to the mage for a short time, full time, or under conditions.
Speed, scent, sight in the dark, leap, and endurance. In some drawings there were small runes near the jaw, sigils placed under the tongues, and spirals drawn upon the breastbone.
Some spells even directly taught transforming into the animal's form.
There was a warning to the side. Side effects. An increase in corruption.
A short overlap between the human trace and the animal trace in the body.
Walking the border of consciousness. A small sentence had been wedged beneath the warning.
The way to reduce Corruption was to complete quests.
This, it said, was taught to every mage in the first lesson. Lucian frowned.
So quests were not only simple steps of the system but also the scales that lightened the weight of taint.
To possess the power of an animal and turn into its form. As a possibility, it sounded frightening and alluring to his ear.
He did not open a notebook. Instead, he drew a small circle in the air with his hand. He murmured the key word he used to access his mind vault.
Every sign on the page, the sequences of the rites, and the lists of required materials turned into fragments of light and drifted in the air. Then one by one they drew into his pupils.
They piled up like a repository deep in his eyes. They were sealed in a way that could not be erased from the mind. Now there was no way he could forget.
He did not have enough materials at hand. Nor the chance to attempt the ritual. A stir rose within him. He made a plan with impatience.
First he would go, receive his training, and become specialized in his work.
But now he had to use time well. As the suns cast lines of different colors into the house, the hours melted away in silence.
The texts layered over one another, the diagrams clarified in his mind.
Then the direction of the light that filled the room changed.
The brightness on the walls dimmed. Lucian felt the inner clock that worked like a private calculation give way to an indescribable unease.
Time was running out. He rose quickly from the chair. He reached for his staff. His hand moved by habit. He recalled the small rhythm of the hiding and protection spell.
He closed Lumi's journal. With a touch as light as Aerus, he sealed the leather.
A faint lock sign was drawn on the cover. It became visible, then slipped into invisibility.
He moved toward the hidden compartment at the back of the house. In the bookcase there was a narrow panel concealed between two thick volumes.
He hooked his fingers under the panel and pulled.
The hollow opened. He placed the journal inside. When the panel settled back in place, no trace remained.
Just as he reached the door, the shadows coiled. The hunters of the Dark Council were there. Two figures. Their masks swallowed the light.
Where their eye sockets should have been, there were dark hollows.
"We have come to take you," they said. Their voices were like dry stone.
They neither rose nor fell. They ran in a single line.
Everything was about to begin. He could feel it.